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#trust that if and when i get to the oscars sometime in the future ill be liveblogging it. i promise
carcarrot · 2 months
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i lied i did watch the oscars
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razorblade180 · 4 years
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interdimensional Dads 3
Jaune:Alright, you’re up Blue. Tell all about a world where we manage to get our Beacon crush. That’s how I know you aren’t lying when you say there’s magic in your Remnant again.
Jaune:Magic had nothing to do with it! It’s called time and life. Also I told her I was going to cut my hair and she felt appalled so I didn’t. She told me how much she loves it a little shaggy.
...
Jaune:What?
Jaune:(Did cutting my hair really change my life that much?) It’s nothing, continue.
Jaune:Okay? Well, where to start? I guess the magic is as good of a place as any. Not much on the surface has changed. The climate seems to be a bit more intense though. The gods are back as well, but no one knows exactly where.
Jaune:It’s not on any map?
Jaune:No, apparently it’s constantly changing. Those who get close to finding it usually get turned around by something. Even Oscar doesn’t know.
Jaune:Oscar is still himself? Oz didn’t take over?
Jaune:Why would be? We saved the world and he got to move on. Oscar does however still have all the memories and experience. Not to mention the one hell of a fighter. Though these days he prefers using all that knowledge for counciling.
Jaune:Good for him.
Jaune:He’s a therapist? Huh, yeah he’s definitely been through hell and back in all of our lives. I never really stop to think how crazy it all was.
Jaune:He’s also married to Penny.
Jaune:Penny is back!?
Jaune:Your world is kicking my world’s ass.
Jaune:It’s pretty wild for sure. Yet it feels vaguely normal. Most of my time is spent still doing huntsman work. I take bodyguard missions mostly these days since they normally aren’t as dangerous. Saving towns from grimm is something I have to leave to the others like Ruby. Weiss gets a little anxious otherwise; even more than the kids do these days.
Jaune:Now for the good part, gushing about your kids.
Jaune:*smiling* Nicholas and Summer Schnee, my little Twin Snowflakes. Both sixteen and quite the handful.
Jaune:You know of any of us needed to have twins, I’m glad it’s the one who married into wealth.
Jaune:Well you’re sorta right. However, Weiss was cut off for years until her father wrote her back into the family on his deathbed. So she’s become financially savvy from having to live in Argus for years. That includes the kids when they were little and even a pet dog. I’d like to think we’ve both grown up through the years but she’s definitely changed more than me.
Jaune:I think that might be true for all of us.
Jaune:Hehe, I got a feeling you’re right.
Jaune:Yeah my Weiss has gone through some shit and took it strides as well.
Jaune:Anyways, being rich is nice but we did pretty fine before it. Yeah we had to work constantly but it’s not like there wasn’t anybody we couldn’t ask for help. I say by far the craziest thing about my world is team RWBY is now a connected on the family tree and then some.
Jaune:Wait...that would mean- who married a Schnee besides you! Qrow married Winter and that’s it right!? Right!?
Jaune:*smiling* Is someone a little jealous of thinking about a world where Ruby married Whitley?
Jaune:...A little.
Jaune:I guess I can spare you those details then. Just know they’ve done some real good for Remnant.
Jaune:That, I didn’t doubt for a second. It’s just a little weird hearing she isn’t with me.
Jaune:You named your kids after Weiss’s grandfather and Ruby’s mom?
Jaune:Nick is the future heir and Summer got her name because....sigh
....
Jaune:It was the right thing to do.
The other’s didn’t probe that avenue any further. Without saying anything, they already knew.
Jaune:Ruby must really appreciate that.
Jaune:Yeah. She might not realize it but she shows a little bias to Summer because of it. Not that Nick particularly cares. I think he might enjoy not being on someone’s radar for once.
Jaune:Let me guess, Mr. Popular?
Jaune:President at combat school, runner up in regionals, gold in figure skating, future heir, master of promoting various events and hosting parties. Kid has it made, and yet...
Jaune:He doesn’t seem to be having fun? I think we might’ve found a similar thread between our kids.
Jaune:Makes sense. Nick has the same problem I still have sometimes.
Jaune:Overthinking?
Jaune:Taking the blow for others?
Jaune:Burdening himself for no reason.
Jaune:Yes....
Jaune:Oh...
Jaune:He’s the kind of kid who finds a way to finish work quickly so he can finish other work faster; in a never ending loop. All for the sake of making others lives easier. This also causes him to tunnel vision sometimes and not really ask what that person wanted in the first place. That, or he puts himself in a position where he doesn’t get to enjoy being a teenager. It’s partly the reason why Weiss and I don’t give him too much slack whenever he does something for the fun of it.
Jaune.Even in a time of peace, someone like him is taking a lot of responsibilities. Not sure if that’s an Arc thing or a Schnee thing.
Jaune:Trust me, it’s both. He seems to be handling it well though. Weiss really gets on him about taking time to just be himself. Honestly it feels like there’s a couple times he’s even trying to put on a face for us instead of cameras. Fortunately people like Valerie and Veronica seem to cut through that act.
Jaune:Oooh, lady friends?
Jaune:Valerie is Ren and Nora’s kid. He has a giant crush on her but I sort of think he tries too hard and should consider looking elsewhere.
Jaune:That’s ironic coming from you.
Jaune:That’s how you know it’s bad. Me, the guy who wrote a terrible song just to get a date to the dance. To be fair he’s not that bad but I feel like he’ll end crushing his confidence. I mean Veronica would be nice. Blake and Yang’s daughter has a thing for him that’s just as obvious for his crush on Val.
Jaune:(Huh, that’s two sets of different kids from the same parents now. I guess some relationships are harder to change than others.) Nick sounds like a fine young man. I bet things will workout. He seems bright.
Jaune:Yeah, I just hope nothing blows up in his face. As for Summer, she’s practically the spitting image of her mother except with my eyes and light blonde hair. She’s pretty timid and a really kind girl. Smart as a whip too! Definitely got that from her mom; as well as her singing.
Jaune:She performs?
Jaune:Yeah, Atlas loves her music. She has good range, learned guitar from yours truly, tops the charts sometimes in other kingdoms, and genuinely seems to enjoy the life of a singer.
Jaune:But she’s timid?
Jaune:Yeah. Off the stage, she tries to get by life like a background character, but still wants to hang around Nick who’s always in a spotlight! When she was younger she got into a incident with dust that severely injured her. Thankfully she lived but now Summer has several scars over her body that she can’t stand. Also...that wasn’t all she got. Scars are least of her problems. The dust mixed with her cells in unexpected ways.
Jaune:Over exposer, did she get some sort of chronic illness or deficiency?
Jaune:Honestly, we don’t know what to call it. Whenever she gets too cold, Summer changes. Her hair goes white, eyes look like mother, and her personality does a 180. More than that actually. It’s more like she’s been possessed and what’s nothing more to rule everything. We call it Shiva. We have it under control mostly after ten years of dealing with it but there’s still scares now and then. Whatever Shiva is, she’s strong and capable of terrible things. Thankfully no casualties yet, but plenty of close calls and extra scars for almost everyone involved. The mental strain it puts on Summer almost seems crippling. I...don’t really know what to do about it at this point. She’s been distant, and I feel like she isn’t telling me something.
Jaune:....
Jaune:Well...you haven’t lost anything yet right?
Jaune:Huh?
Jaune:Don’t look so bummed. Ten years and nothing too tragic to show for it. Maybe it’s luck, or everyone is way stronger than this problem after all. Including your daughter. Trust me, daughters are way stronger than what father’s give them credit for.
Jaune:Ha, you know he might be on to something with that. You heard my story. Yujin was keeping things together for a long time. That being said, they’re still our little angels and can only go so far. Eventually they’re gonna wish to see someone like their dear old dad to to lean on. That’s our job after all.
Jaune:Yep. You’ll figure it. Like you said, you’re not alone.
Jaune:I might have a daughter but I know a thing or two about distant kids. Take it a step at a time, and let them know you’re always there.
Jaune:...*smiles* Thanks guys.
Jaune:No problem!
Jaune:I wonder what’s up with those two right now? Probably training for their tournament no doubt.
xxxx
Training is putting it lightly. The cold Argus air is filled with smoke as a fire burns in the forest. Nick kneels with his sword stabbed int ground. His body trembles from exhaustion and sweat runs down his face while his hands still grip the blade handle til his palms bleed. Surrounding him is Apathy as pale as ghost with ghastly blue eyes that make them look like they’re right out of horror movie.
Though he’s tired, he manages to lift his head up and see his sister on her hands and knees, not as roughed up as him but more drained from the grimm. Summer looked at her brother with eyes that constantly flickered between shades of blue before turning the shade of their father’s. Summer fell forward, all motivation to move taken away.
Nick:You okay...?
Summer:Y-Yeah...thanks. Sorry.
Nick:Next time....we’ll bring Ruby just in case.
He found the strength to walk towards his sister and carried her on his back. The summoned Apathy keeping a certain range around them like a dome as he walked. Summer found whatever strength she had to raise her right hand up and snapped her fingers. A cool wind came off her finger tips and snuffed out flames before it got out of hand.
Summer:Can’t have this place burning down right?
Nick:You’re gonna get cold again.
Summer:She’s tired...and I’m spent. Even if she comes out, my body can’t move so...zzzzz
Nick:Sigh, saw that coming.
Nicholas walked as fast as his body let him. Abandoning both of their swords in favor or retrieving them later. They’d gotten lucky, the sun was out and he had handled the situation before Shiva could find her stride. Warm clothing also did its part.
He felt Summer shift around on his back and started moving faster. He hated this part.
Nick:I don’t wanna talk to you.
Shiva:That’s no way to treat family.
Nick:But an icicle to the leg is?
Shiva:How else was I supposed to slow you down? You’ve gotten stronger, dodging it the way you did. How unpleasant for me. I’ll aim higher next time, I’ll make sure not to rough up that money maker of yours though.
Nick:Next time I’ll throw you in the fire so you’ll be too tired to talk. Your days are numbered. It must be a pain dealing with me and trying to keep control. Sooner or later you won’t be able to do anything but lose until Summer snuffs you out. Then you’ll be nothing more than a bad dream.
Shiva:....Hmmm aha!
Shiva:I’ve decided then. I guess I’ll just have to kill you first before that happens.
A chill went down his spine as he could feel her ice cold breath hit his ear as she whispersed...
Shiva:Let’s see if I’ll be a bad dream them.
Nick looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but his sister’s sleeping face. Not a sign of anyone or anything else; just peaceful slumber. The boy continued walking in silence. He was still sweating, still trembling, but no longer from the cold. Exhaustion crumbled to adrenaline. He started going back to the sight of their training to grab his sword. After all, who knows what could happen on the way back?
Part 2
Start reading Twin Snoflakes?< Part subzero
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zintranslations · 3 years
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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 54
Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations
Chapter 54: The Sixth Door
A few months later, Lin Qiushi was to face his own sixth door.
He thought that like last time, Ruan Nanzhu would have him pass it with Cheng Qianli, who was on door six himself. However, Ruan Nanzhu intentionally separated them this time.
Though he didn’t know why, Lin Qiushi didn’t ask further, trusting that Ruan Nanzhu had his own logic.
With about ten days left, Cheng Qianli received his own clue. Typically, everybody helped to research the clue, but this time was an exception. Cheng Qianli’s clue was kept secret from everybody in the mansion, known only to himself and his brother.
Cheng Qianli became rather cheery after he got his clue. When Lin Qiushi asked what he was so giddy about, Cheng Qianli replied, “hehehe, my brother told me not to tell.”
Lin Qiushi, “...” Even though Cheng Qianli was foolish sometimes, he still listened to his brother about important matters.
Once Cheng Qianli was done giggling, he said to Lin Qiushi, “After I come out, I’ll tell you in private. Have you gotten your clue?”
Lin Qiushi shook his head, “not yet.” Ruan Nanzhu had yet to give him anything, and seemed to be contemplating something.
Cheng Qianli, “you got Ruan-ge with you, so don’t worry, nothing’s gonna happen.” 
“Mh.” Lin Qiushi nodded. “Good luck to us both then.” 
“Good luck.” Cheng Qianli just kept grinning in shameless glee.
A few more days passed before Lin Qiushi finally got the clue to his own door. This time the clue was simple: the slender shadow. 
“What’s this?” Lin Qiushi asked upon first receiving the clue, confused, “some kind of legend?” 
“It’s a foreign urban legend,” Ruan Nanzhu replied. “People also call it Slenderman, have you heard of it?” 
Lin Qiushi thought a bit before nodding, “vaguely.” He thought he’d seen a movie of the sort.
Ruan Nanzhu tossed him a file.
“Take a look first. There's not a lot, but it’s better than nothing.”
Lin Qiushi began looking through the file.
The file recorded in detail this slender ghostly shadow. It was a Western urban legend about a kind of humanoid monster with long thin limbs and no face. With spindly arms and legs, this monster looked somewhat like a human spider. It appeared in rural spaces or small towns and preyed primarily on children left on their own. Of course, it attacked adults as well. The children it targeted simply disappeared, but the adults would start manifesting odd symptoms, like nosebleeds, nightmares, and even seeing their own worst fears.
The file continued to describe Slenderman's distinct methods of killing, such as spearing people on tree branches and bleeding them to death. They also liked removing people's organs and putting them in plastic bags… Regardless, urban legends like these were terrifying enough in real life, for more faint-hearted people, not to mention inside the world of the doors.
Lin Qiushi quickly finished reading and thought that was all the prepwork needed. To his surprise, Ruan Nanzhu suddenly said they were going shopping for clothes. 
Lin Qiushi, bewildered, “for clothes? What clothes?”
Ruan Nanzhu smiled, “clothes for you to wear inside.” 
Under the pitying gazes of everybody else in the mansion, a still-befuddled Lin Qiushi left for the mall with Ruan Nanzhu. The first few items were still normal men's clothes, but then they came to the women’s section…  
Ruan Nanzhu, who was obviously used to this, announced he was buying clothes for his girlfriend. His gaze, however, surveyed Lin Qiushi.
Lin Qiushi didn’t understand at first, and asked like a fool, “Nanzhu, you have a girlfriend?”
Ruan Nanzhu, "no."
Lin Qiushi, “then why are you buying women’s clothes?”
Ruan Nanzhu, “I’m not buying, you are.”
Lin Qiushi, “but I don’t have a girlfriend either…”
Ruan Nanzhu, walking up front with a few bags, turned.
“It’s for you to wear. What girlfriend.”
Lin Qiushi’s brain bluescreened for three whole seconds. When he finally comprehended what was going on, shock and fear entered his eyes.
“Me? Wear?"
Ruan Nanzhu, "yes, you."
Lin Qiushi, “But— Can I wear them when I look like this—”
Ruan Nanzhu’s expression went strange, “what do you think you look like?”
Lin Qiushi, “just a regular guy."
Sinking into silence, Ruan Nanzhu’s gaze on Lin Qiushi went stranger and stranger. Goosebumps rising from that gaze, Lin Qiushi forewent further questions and obediently followed him back to the mansion. 
Three days later, Ruan Nanzhu plucked Lin Qiushi out of hiding from his room and made him change his clothes. 
Lin Qiushi, who had been an office worker for some time, couldn’t be said to be particularly fit. He had an average male physique, with features that were nonaggressive and clean: double-lidded eyes that weren’t too big with a pretty smile. Ruan Nanzhu sat Lin Qiushi down and began taking out makeup tools.
Lin Qiushi’s eyes went wide with trepidation. “Nanzhu… Can we talk?”
Ruan Nanzhu, “talk about what?”
Lin Qiushi asked faintly, “can we not do this?”
Ruan Nanzhu was expressionless. “Didn’t you ask if I really liked crossdressing so much? Rather me explain, why don’t you just experience it yourself?” His eyes narrowed with a fake-looking smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you once we’re inside.”
Lin Qiushi nearly cried. 
He knew none of the makeup items before him, and felt only Ruan Nanzhu rubbing and patting all these things on his face. So much time passed that he was nearly asleep when Ruan Nanzhu finally straightened and patted off his hands. "Done." 
Lin Qiushi, "....."
Ruan Nanzhu handed a mirror to Lin Qiushi.
“Take a look, then pick a hairstyle you like.”
Lin Qiushi took the mirror, and was a bit dazed by what he saw: a woman’s face. “She” wasn’t astonishingly beautiful, but was certainly attractive enough to draw the eye. This face was gentle and the expression ill-treated, inspiring pity and sympathy.
Lin Qiushi couldn’t help himself, and declared, fuck.
“Dirty mouth on a lady,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Do you like long or short hair?”
Lin Qiushi, “long…” He meant he liked long-haired girls, but Ruan Nanzhu just picked up a wig and began putting it on him.
Lin Qiushi, "....."
Once that was done, Ruan Nanzhu began finishing up the last details. He probably planned for Lin Qiushi to wear a dress at first, but upon seeing Lin Qiushi’s expression of utter terror—he looked on the verge of fainting—relented on this kind of shock for Lin Qiushi’s first time. The end outfit was fairly unisex.
Once it was forced onto him, Lin Qiushi only wanted to turn and run—he’d learned his lesson about running his mouth.
Everything was finally ready, and Ruan Nanzhu examined the person before him with a satisfied expression. Lin Qiushi wasn't the chiseled sort of handsome, but rather a mellow and personable sort, which meant makeup could easily smooth out the more discordant details. Paired with Lin Qiushi's gentle nature, it actually all came together quite finely.
"I have to wear this?" Faced with the big man himself, Lin Qiushi couldn't exactly express a temper. He could only attempt to pitifully plead, "Nanzhu, I know I was wrong. Can't we..."
Ruan Nanzhu lifted a brow.
"No."
Lin Qiushi, "....."
Lin Qiushi, "but I don't know how to speak in a fake voice." Ruan Nanzhu's voice inside the doors was slightly unisex, but definitely did not ping as boy.
Ruan Nanzhu, "so practice."
Lin Qiushi, "I only have ten days or so..."
Ruan Nanzhu's insincere smile: "Take your time, there's no rush. We have plenty more opportunities in the future. This time though, if you can't talk, you can always pretend to be mute."
Lin Qiushi, "....."
Ruan Nanzhu tapped his finger against the table. "A frail and fragile mute girl, isn't that an interesting character?"
Lin Qiushi, "....." Tan Zaozao, come get the man for your entertainment circle, and the next Oscar was sure to go to China.
After saying what he did, Ruan Nanzhu still provided Lin Qiushi a "generous" second option: if you don't want to play a mute girl, you can always play a man with a passion for crossdressing.
In the end, Lin Qiushi, not wanting to field odd looks, still opted to play mute.
Because of the outfit, Lin Qiushi had to bear the ridicule of others in the mansion.
"Hahahaha Lin Qiushi, so you've come to this too." Cheng Qianli was the most impertinent. "But you actually look good like this, much better than Chen Fei."
Lin Qiushi, "hah?"
Chen Fei glowered from the side. "Fuck if you're one to talk, Cheng Qianli. Looked in a mirror recently?"
Cheng Qianli, "hmph, I'd be drop dead gorgeous as a girl."
Ruan Nanzhu, "oh yeah?"
Cheng Qianli, upon hearing Ruan Nanzhu's voice, did a full-body shudder. "No no no, Ruan-ge, I'm only kidding."
Ruan Nanzhu peered once at him, then sat down at the table. "How are preparations with your brother then?"
Cheng Qianli, "good, actually." He took a bite. "This next world seems pretty easy."
Ruan Nanzhu only hummed in response, and didn't ask any follow-up questions. He seemed confident enough in Cheng Yixie—Lin Qiushi just didn't know what the argument he overheard on the rooftop the other day was about.
Considering his personality, no matter what, Cheng Yixie didn't seem the type to easily get into arguments with people.
But in the end, Lin Qiushi didn't figure any of this out, because the time to enter the door quickly arrived.
Ten odd days later on a random afternoon, Lin Qiushi had been snacking in the living room with Cheng Qianli, but after eating and eating, he turned around and suddenly found Cheng Qianli gone without a trace.
His first thought was to wonder if Cheng Qianli had gone to the bathroom. After a while without Cheng Qianli returning however, he realized Cheng Qianli had probably gone into the doors.
About half an hour later, Cheng Qianli suddenly reappeared on the sofa.
His face was awfully pale and he clutched at his chest, sucking in deep breaths. Seeing him like this, Lin Qiushi quickly asked, "are you alright? Qianli?"
Glancing once at Lin Qiushi in panic, Cheng Qianli bolted for the stairs without a word.
Seeing him so distressed, Lin Qiushi hastily followed.
Cheng Qianli went straight for Cheng Yixie's bedroom door, twisting the knob without bothering to knock.
The door opened to reveal Cheng Yixie, having just returned as well, sitting on the bed. He was still mostly expressionless, looking up at the agitated Cheng Qianli.
"What?"
"Ge—" Cheng Qianli threw himself onto Cheng Yixie, clutching on for dear life. "I thought you didn't make it, I thought you didn't make it—"
Cheng Yixie didn't reply, only patted at Cheng Qianli's back with a gentle hand to calm his brother.
Cheng Qianli seemed to have been well and truly terrified; his face was still colorless, and looked much worse off than Cheng Yixie.
The brothers stayed in the embrace for a little while, until emotions have settled. Slightly embarrassed, Cheng Qianli wriggled himself out of his brother's lap and scratched his nose. "I'm hungry. Gonna go eat something."
Cheng Yixie didn't stop him, and watched him go.
Once everything seemed fine, Lin Qiushi made to leave as well, but Cheng Yixie's voice suddenly came behind him: "Lin Qiushi, if anything happens to me, will you help Cheng Qianli?"
Lin Qiushi startled.
"Never mind," Cheng Yixie said. "Go on."
With that he closed the door, not giving Lin Qiushi an opportunity to respond.
Honestly, the usual Cheng Yixie didn't seem anything like a sixteen year old. He tended to be cool and calm, a lot like Ruan Nanzhu. Perhaps this sixth door really had been a close call, to have provoked him to say something like that.
Lin Qiushi felt an inexplicable ache in his chest.
Back in the living room, Cheng Qianli had started on the snacks again, but he didn't seem to be enjoying them at all. He looked thoroughly exhausted.
Lin Qiushi asked after him for a bit, and found out the world they'd gone into this time was a medieval post-war battlefield. There really had been some close calls.
Fortunately, they'd managed to escape in the end.
"My brother and I both have a genetic disorder," Cheng Qianli spoke as he snacked. This was news to Lin Qiushi. "We can't do sports, and when it's really serious, we can barely walk. The doctor says neither of us will live past eighteen."
Lin Qiushi listened.
"Then my brother entered the doors first," Cheng Qianli said. "His illness got better… Then I went in too." Scratching his head, he laughed, "sometimes I think, that the doors aren't really scary at all. Without them, we wouldn't have been able to lead normal lives, or live at all. We've already got more than our fair share."
Lin Qiushi said, "don't think like that. There are more days ahead of you."
"Yeah, more ahead." Cheng Qianli's gaze suddenly seemed lost. "And I don't know at all how I'll end my life."
This was hard to listen to. It was in this moment that Lin Qiushi fully realized that everybody in the mansion was dying. Some were emotionally prepared, some weren't, but there was no exception—they'd all caught on their breaths the scent of death.
"Good luck on your next door." Cheng Qianli stood. "I'm going to rest for a bit, I'm exhausted…"
And when he yawned, Lin Qiushi nodded and watched him go.
Probably because he had nothing in particular to cling to, Lin Qiushi could enter the doors with relative calm; he would take death, but he'd also happily welcome each rebirth.
Lin Qiushi's door and Cheng Qianli's weren't that far apart; the midnight after Cheng Qianli returned, Lin Qiushi started awake in his bed, left his room, and walked out into the hallway with those twelve metal doors once more.
The first five metal doors were sealed off, and the seventh onward all could not be opened. Only the sixth door allowed Lin Qiushi to pull it open with ease.
After the familiar spinning, Lin Qiushi found himself on a paved pathway. It was empty all around the path, with only a black sign pointing forward, on which was written the blurry text: Throughwaters Village
It was chilly, and Lin Qiushi wrapped his clothes tight around himself before starting forward. The path was wide and swathed in thick fog. After about six to seven minutes, a human silhouette finally came into view. The figure was familiar. Lin Qiushi's eyes lit up the moment he saw it, and called out, "Mengmeng—"
The person turned. The face was a stranger's but the disposition was not. He asked, "candy?"
Lin Qiushi, "love it, can't get enough. I like mint and strawberry flavored ones."
He replied, "I don't like them, because I've got an ache in my fourth tooth."
With the secret signal and each other's identities confirmed, Lin Qiushi could finally sigh in relief. He said, "I didn't think we'd find each other so early… Hang on, why are you dressed as a guy?" His eyes went wide.
Ruan Nanzhu replied, "did I say I was going to dress up with you?"
Lin Qiushi, "....."
Ruan Nanzhu put a finger to his lips and smiled. "A mute person can't speak so much."
Lin Qiushi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Can't I…"
“No." Ruan Nanzhu already knew what he was going to ask and heartlessly refused. "Be a good girl now."
Lin Qiushi, "....." Giving his hair a tug, he discovered that the wig did in fact become real hair, and for some reason, his height inside the door this time was shorter than usual.
"Come on, let's go find the others first." Ruan Nanzhu scanned their surroundings. "This fog's all kinds of irritating."
So the two headed onward.
Walking behind Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi discretely snuck a glance inside his pants. He exhaled in relief when the important bits were all still there.
Thankfully, it was only the hair that changed and nothing else, or he’d have found himself gone catatonic about it.
They kept going ahead, until finally different scenery grew visible: a ragged little town emerged from the fog before them. This town had clear Western influences, but most of the signs were still in Chinese.
Suddenly curious, Lin Qiushi asked, "have you ever ended up somewhere foreign?"
Ruan Nanzhu, "sure, aren't we in one now?"
Lin Qiushi said, "but the signs are Chinese."
Ruan Nanzhu, "they probably factored in people's standard cultural knowledge and figured sticking with Chinese was best." He glanced at Lin Qiushi. "After all, some people can't even read that."
Lin Qiushi knew Ruan Nanzhu was teasing him for pretending to be illiterate in the last door, and could only mutter awkwardly, "those were extenuating circumstances though…"
They walked into the town and found a group of people gathered in the small village square.
With a single sweeping glance, Ruan Nanzhu was able to count, "eight."
Lin Qiushi was already getting into character, and didn't reply.
Emerging from the fog, the two drew some attention. Some eyes fell on the stunning Ruan Nanzhu, but some even fell on Lin Qiushi.
The current Lin Qiushi had long hair and, due to being shorter, an apparently frail frame underneath the clothes. He was also pale and seemed a bit frightened, looking up at Ruan Nanzhu with dark eyes wide with helplessness—or at least that's what it looked like to outsiders. The reality was…
Lin Qiushi: fuck, fuck me, they're all staring at me.
Ruan Nanzhu: let them stare, what's the harm.
Lin Qiushi: what if they discover I'm a guy?
Ruan Nanzhu: whip the big guy out and scare them all to death.
Lin Qiushi: .....
And after the above transpired through nothing but meaningful eye contact, Lin Qiushi knew there was nothing more he could say.
Somebody was approaching. Probably because Ruan Nanzhu seemed harder to get along with, the person's attention completely targeted the poor, weak, and helpless-looking Lin Qiushi.
Before Lin Qiushi even had time to react, Ruan Nanzhu extended a hand to halt the person in his tracks. "Yeah?”
"Nothing." He was a handsome young man in his twenties, clad in a stylish outfit, and he seemed very interested in Lin Qiushi. "I just wanted to ask if you two needed some help."
"I don't think she can talk." Staring the guy down, Ruan Nanzhu blockaded himself in front of Lin Qiushi.
"Can't talk?" That person seemed even more interested now, and said, "Hi, I'm Wang Tianxin."
Ruan Nanzhu, "Lu Meng."
Seeing Ruan Nanzhu's protectiveness, Wang Tianxin smiled.
"Do you two know each other then?"
Ruan Nanzhu said, "no, but meeting the moment we entered feels a bit fated, doesn't it."
Lin Qiushi fished out his phone and typed: I'm Yu Qiuqiu, it's a pleasure to meet you both.
They both read the text on Lin Qiushi's phone screen, and Wang Tianxin said, "oh, so you're called Yu Qiuqiu. That's a cute name." He was a bit shorter than Ruan Nanzhu, and bent forward now with a friendly expression. "I'm Wang Tianxin, and if you'd like, I think we can try to be friends."
Lin Qiushi pretended to be a bit frightened, and ducked slightly behind Ruan Nanzhu. To be so solicitous without cause, the man was sure to peddle treachery or crime; Wang Tianxin's eager friendliness toward complete strangers obviously had ulterior motives. And though Lin Qiushi wasn't scared, he also wasn't stupid enough to step right into some kind of plot.
Ruan Nanzhu also didn't bother to be cordial: "she seems scared of you. Why don't you stay away from her."
Wang Tianxi looked at Ruan Nanzhu, but then actually turned and walk away.
Lin Qiushi didn't anticipate him giving up so easily, but Ruan Nanzhu let out a cold laugh—he seemed to have guessed Wang Tianxin's intentions.
The team of people for this round gradually gathered.
There were two newcomers again, both male this time. One appeared steady enough, but the other had completely broken down, crying and wailing the whole way here.
Fortunately, aside from all the crying, the new guy didn't do anything too extreme.
After giving up on Lin Qiushi, that Wang Tianxin quickly found himself another girl. In just a short amount of time, that girl and Wang Tianxin seemed to have grown very close, chatting and laughing with good cheer.
Lin Qiushi peered at Ruan Nanzhu.
Ruan Nanzhu knew what he wanted to ask, and replied under his breath, "there's always that kind of people inside the doors. They like finding teammates. Of course, the teammates aren't just good for teamwork, and can be good for something else as well."
Lin Qiushi: such as?
Ruan Nanzhu just watched him. His smile was meaningful, but he said nothing further.
Lin Qiushi was shocked into understanding by that smile.
Wang Tianxin was clearly an expert of this way, and found his targets with precision. Upon gathering, he approached delicate-looking women with care and concern, easily winning their trust.
And Lin Qiushi, a woman with a disability, was even more clearly his type. It was only because Ruan Nanzhu got in his way that he had to change targets.
Ruan Nanzhu said, "you better follow me closely, and don't get hoodwinked by others."
Lin Qiushi shot him a glare, and thought so what if he was hoodwinked, he'd only have to whip off the skirt and compare sizes a bit...
Author's Note
Ruan Nanzhu: there's no way we're not getting a show, if I don't act someone else has to.
Lin Qiushi: .....
[Ch. 53] | [Ch. 55]
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back-and-totheleft · 3 years
Text
“I’m not sure I’ve modified my thinking”
“It’s a strange place, England,” Oliver Stone informs me at the start of our Zoom call. “You’ve managed to make it worse than it was,” he says, speaking from his home in Los Angeles. “You’ve turned it into World War Two with your attitudes over there. The English love punishment, it’s part of their make-up.”
You sure know how to break the ice, Mr Stone. It’s a slightly galling accusation, given that he has hitched his wagon to Russia, hardly a paragon of enlightenment. The New York-born writer-director has never shied from ruffling feathers, though. Stone has taken on the American establishment to thrilling effect in his movies, from Platoon to Born on the Fourth of July, JFK to W, Salvador to Snowden, and still emerged with three Oscars. And he has admiringly interviewed a string of figures whose relations with Uncle Sam have rarely been cosy, including Fidel Castro, Hugo Chávez and Vladimir Putin. Those had more mixed receptions, as has his support for Julian Assange.
Yet at 74 he is still a thorn in the side of the military-industrial complex and is set to remain one for some time, having just had his second shot of Covid vaccine. This being Stone, he got his jab in Russia. A recent trial showed the Sputnik V vaccine he was given to have 92 per cent efficacy and he’s palpably delighted. Angry too, of course. “It’s strange how the US ignores that. It’s a strange bias they have against all things Russian,” he says. “I do believe it’s your best vaccine on the market, actually,” he adds, sounding weirdly Trump-like.
If his bullishness is still intact, Stone reveals a more vulnerable side in his recent memoir, Chasing the Light. The book, which he discusses in an online Q&A tonight, goes a long way to explaining his distrust of government, society and, well, pretty much everything. There are visceral accounts of him fighting in Vietnam, and fighting to get Salvador and Platoon made. “The war was lodged away in a compartment, and I made films about it,” he says. “Sometimes I have a dream that I’ve been drafted and sent back there.”
The crucial event in the book, though, is his parents’ divorce when he was 15. Stone realises now that his conservative Jewish-American father and glamorous French mother were ill-suited. Both had affairs. What really stung was the way he was told about their split: over the phone by a family friend while he was at boarding school. “It was very cold, very English,” he says. “I say English because everything about boarding school invokes the old England.” He’s really got it in for us today.
With no siblings, he says, “I had no family after that divorce. It was over. The three of us split up.” His world view stemmed from his parents being in denial about their incompatibility, he writes in the book: “Children like me are born out of that original lie. And nobody can ever be trusted again.”
That disillusionment took a few years to show itself. “All of a sudden, I just had a collapse,” Stone says. He had been admitted to Yale University but his father’s alma mater suddenly felt like part of the problem. He felt suicidal and sidestepped those thoughts by enlisting to fight in Vietnam, putting the choice of him dying into other hands.
The Stone in the book was described by one reviewer as his most sympathetic character. “It’s true probably because it’s a novel,” he says. Well, technically it’s an autobiography, but it’s a telling mistake. Fact and fiction can blur in his work, from the demonisation of Turks in Midnight Express (he wrote the screenplay) to the conspiracy theories in JFK.
Writing the book allowed him to put himself into the story, something he says he’s never been able to do in his films. He has tried. He wrote a screenplay, White Lies, in which a child of divorce repeats his parents’ mistakes, as Stone has. “I had two divorces in my life [from the Lebanese-born Najwa Sarkis and Elizabeth Burkit Cox, who worked as a “spiritual advisor” on his films] and I’m on my third marriage, which I’m very happy in.” He and Sun-jung Jung, who is from South Korea, have been together for more than 25 years. They have a grown-up daughter, Tara, and he has two sons, Sean and Michael, from his marriage to Cox.
White Lies is on ice for now. “It’s hard to get those kinds of things done,” Stone says wearily. Will he make another feature? It’s been documentaries recently, the last two on the Ukraine. “I don’t know. It’s a question of energy. In the old days, there would be a studio you’d have a relationship with, and they’d have to trust you to a certain degree. And that doesn’t exist any more.”
He thinks back to the big beasts of his early years. Alan Parker, who directed Midnight Express; John Daly, who produced Salvador and Platoon; Robert Bolt, who taught him about screenwriting. “Those three Englishmen had a lot to do with my successes,” he says. I think he feels bad about all the limey bashing. “John was a tough cockney, but I liked him a lot.” He liked him more than Parker, whom he describes as “cold” with a “serious chip on his shoulder.” He smiles. “Sure. Alan did a good job with Midnight Express, though.”
You wonder if Netflix could come to Stone’s rescue. They have given generous backing to big-name directors, from David Fincher to Martin Scorsese, Stone’s old tutor at NYU film school. Surely they would welcome him? “Well, that’s why you’re not in charge! Netflix is very engineering driven. Subject matter such as [White Lies] might register low on a demographic.”
Isn’t he also working on a JFK documentary, Destiny Betrayed? That could do better with the Netflix algorithms. “I’m having problems with that too. Americans were so concerned with Trump, I don’t know that they wanted to hear about some of the facts behind the Kennedy killing. They don’t recognise that there’s a connection between 1963 and now, that pretty much all the screws came loose when they did that in ’63.” He smiles. “I know you think I’m nuts.”
Well no, but you do wonder at his unwavering conviction that there was a conspiracy to murder Kennedy, probably involving the CIA. JFK is a big reason why a majority of Americans believe in a conspiracy and, according to Stone, led to the establishment of the Assassination Records Review Board, which he claims is “the only piece of legislation in this country that ever came out of a film.”
Yet several serious studies, including a 1,600-page book, Reclaiming History, by the former prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi, conclude that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. That book accused Stone of committing a “cultural crime” by distorting facts in JFK. “I feel like I’m in the dock with Bugliosi. I didn’t like his book at all,” Stone says. “Believe me, you cannot walk out of [his forthcoming documentary] and say Oswald did it alone. If you do, I think you’re on mushrooms.”
Stone knows whereof he speaks regarding psychedelics. On returning from Vietnam he was “a little bit radical” in his behaviour, he says: drugs, womanising, hellraising. He recently took LSD for the first time in years. “It was wonderful,” he says. He hallucinated that he was “moving from island to island on a little boat”.
What was radical in the Seventies can be problematic now. He has been accused of inappropriate behaviour by the model Carrie Stevens and the actresses Patricia Arquette and Melissa Gilbert. “As far as I know I never forced anyone to do anything they didn’t want to do,” he says. Has he modified the way he behaves around women? “Oh sure, no question.”
At the same time, he is disturbed by “the scolding going on, the shaming culture. I don’t agree with any of that. It’s like the Chinese Cultural Revolution. It scares the shit out of me. I do think the politically correct point of view will never be mine.”
He’s not a slavish follower of conspiracy theories — QAnon “sounds like nonsense”, he says, as was the theory that Donald Trump was “a Manchurian candidate for the Russians. That was a horrible thing to do and it hurt that presidency a lot. I’m not an admirer of Trump by any means, but he was picked on from day one.”
What does he make of Joe Biden? “I voted for him, not because I liked him, but as an alternative to Trump’s disasters. He’s got a far more merciful humanitarian side. But he also has a history of warmongering.” Fake news, he says, has “always happened”, in the east and west, on the left and the right. “I mean, back in the Cold War, the US was saying Russia was lying and Russia was saying the US was lying. Each one of these wars the US has been involved in was based on lies.”
It sounds as if Stone has been on the Russian Kool-Aid himself. He is making a documentary, A Bright Future, about climate change that advocates pursuing nuclear power in the short term, and has visited some Russian nuclear plants. They are “very state-of-the-art,” he says. “The US is not really pursuing the big plants, the way Russia and China are. I believe in renewables, but they’re not going to be able to handle the capacity when India and Africa and all these countries come online wanting electricity.”
Putin liked the interviews Stone did with him in 2017, he says. “I think they contributed to his election numbers.” Wasn’t he too easy on the Russian leader? “That’s what some say. But I got his ire up. I did ask him some tough questions about succession. ‘I think you should leave’ — that kind of stuff. The pressure that Russia is under from both England and the US is enormous,” he adds. “Unless you’re there I don’t know that you understand that. Because you take the English point of view, and they have been very anti-Soviet since 1920. You talk about fake news — I feel that way about MI5 and MI6.”
You can’t help but admire Stone’s conviction. If he’s modified his behaviour that’s probably a good thing, but as he says, “I’m not so sure I’ve modified my thinking. I express myself freely. I don’t want to feel muzzled.” Whatever you think of him, be grateful he hasn’t been.
-Ed Potton, “You talk about fake news. I feel that way about MI5 and MI6,” The Times of London, Feb 8 2021 [x]
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chockfullofsecrets · 4 years
Text
RWBY: Dinner and a Smile
(Read on AO3)
Rating: Gen
Summary:  Ironwood needs dinner and a break. And he'll get them, if Qrow has anything to say about it.
Wordcount: 2382
A/N: Hey, it’s been a while! I feel a little bad that this isn’t BNHA fic, but I was having so much trouble getting back into the swing of writing that I eventually decided to try a new fandom to shake things up. Thank you for all your patience and well wishes, and hopefully there’ll be more fic in the near future!
Also - there’s just not enough platonic RWBY tickle fic. So if you have any prompts, feel free to drop them in my ask box!
Sometimes, James wondered if there was a time when he would have considered filing paperwork at 10 in the evening a late night at the office - certainly not in the last year. Maybe not in the last five. There were no late nights anymore, only a dwindling amount of precious time before Mantle went critical, before Salem gained too much power, before she showed up again in his tech and in the cities he was supposed to be able to protect. 
Brothers, it had been a long time since he’d ended the day without a headache and a gnawing sense of unease. And it seemed like the streak would continue, even with the influx of additions to his inner circle.
His office door chimed. James glanced over at the appropriate screen, then tapped the door open. “Ah, Qrow. Glad to see you got my message.’ He paused. ‘And responded in a fairly timely manner, even.”
Qrow smirked, his jewelry glinting even in the dim office lights as he propped himself lightly against the doorframe. “Aw, Jimmy, a compliment? I guess you really were happy to see me.”
“Of course I was.” James frowned. “I said so, didn’t I?”
“I’ve heard you say nicer things to all kinds of people,” Qrow said, shrugging himself upright and ambling towards the desk. “You military types are real good at buttering people up. Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever it takes to get a promotion, sir.” 
James was halfway to saying something that was probably going to end with broken windows when Qrow reached his desk and huffed out a laugh, looking almost apologetic. “I’m not trying to start a fight. It was hard to believe at first, after everything that’s happened, but you’ve been good to us. The kids are really enjoying their licenses.”
“Oh.” James cleared his throat, regaining equilibrium at the sudden loss of tension. “They’re certainly making good use of them. I’m glad it was something I could do.”
Qrow cocked his head, birdlike - as always, the unconscious action was at least a little funny. “Sure. Now, you said you needed me to verify a report?”
“Yes.” Another tap, another screen, this time facing Qrow. “This is your report from wall patrol three days ago - can you confirm this is the right sector? If it is, we’ll have to log another breach report.”
Qrow grimaced at the hologram, pulling out his scroll to reference. “Yeah, it’s right. Shit, that’s not good.”
“I’ll send Penny down tomorrow to estimate how much material repairs will take,” James sighed, minimizing the screen. “Alright, that was it. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Qrow didn’t move, a dark smudge in the corner of his vision. “Hey, if you keep doing that you’re going to fracture your nose.”
“What?” Oh, he was pinching at the bridge of his nose again, this time with his prosthetic hand. Stupid headache. “It’s fine. Atlas prosthetics have the best pressure control in the world-”
“Don’t care,” Qrow interrupted. “What are you doing with the rest of your evening?”
James looked up, surprised - that wasn’t like Qrow at all. “I’ll - be here, I suppose.”
“Right.” Qrow slid his scroll back into his hip pocket, completely ignoring the compartment in his new vest that was meant for the thing. “Come on, the kids got dinner for tonight. Nora can spare an extra person’s worth of food for you.”
He thought back to some of the looks he’d gotten from said kids in recent history - distrust, something ranging from fear to outright anger. They were in his inner circle, but he certainly wasn’t in theirs. Even beyond that, the awkwardness of showing up unannounced - “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Better than yours, though.” Qrow was suddenly looming over his desk, making use of his lanky arms to reach for the power button. James swiped reflexively at the intruding hand - he set everything to save automatically, of course, but Qrow didn’t know that -
Qrow smirked insolently even as his wrist was caught, neatly reversing the hold and bracing his other hand on the desk as he heaved James upright.
James wavered a little on his feet, staring dumbly as his headache spiked. He reached for the bridge of his nose with his free hand, but Qrow caught that wrist too. They stood there, reaching to each other, the warmth of contact nothing short of intoxicating. 
Qrow’s head was cocked again - okay, it was a lot less funny when Qrow was analyzing him - and his voice was almost unbearably gentle even through that low rasp it had. “Trust me, I get it, but food will help.”
Sure. Sure. He could spare a couple minutes. How bad could it be?
^^^
He was an optimist, apparently. 
RWBY, JNR, and Oscar were holed up in a common area near their assigned dorms, and every single one of them fell silent as Qrow and James walked in. Normal enough on the occasions he showed up to deliver a speech, but he could take the hint.
“Um,” he said eloquently. “Hello. I’m just going to-”
Qrow grabbed his arm before he could back away. “The general needs some food, and I figure we have enough casseroles to spare thanks to Tall, Blonde, and Good with Children over there.”
The blond boy - Jaune’s -  ensuing blush was enough to pinpoint the target of the comment. “Uh, congratulations?” James offered. “It sounds like you’re making quite an impact.”
Jaune’s red-haired teammate burst out laughing, a few of the others following. “He sure is!” she crowed, elbowing the poor boy in the side - James could almost see his aura take the hit. “Just make sure you don’t do any impacting on the job, huh?”
“Stop it, Nora!” Jaune yelped. “Uh, thank you, General Ironwood.”
That seemed to break the ice sufficiently, the kids restarting their conversation, and soon he and Qrow were sharing a couch next to a table strewn with takeout and casseroles. 
Qrow sank into the cushions, eyeing his straight-backed posture disapprovingly. “What, does your spine not bend?” he sniped.
“I’m surprised you haven’t offered me something to take the edge off,” James sniped back, smiling a little. He’d barely finished the sentence when the shrill voice of Qrow’s youngest niece rang out.
Both their heads snapped around. “UNCLE QROW,” Ruby yelled, dashing to her uncle’s side with what looked like a rapidly destabilizing takeout box. Qrow’s attention turned fully to her, but James’ gaze stopped on a coldly glaring Yang Xiao Long. 
She caught his eye, making a fist with thumb and pinky extended, then tipped the sign toward her lips. Drink. She then slashed a finger across her throat, eyes flaring red. Drink and die, then. 
Come to think of it, Qrow hadn’t taken out his flask in all this time - 
He’d quit?
It made sense - the improved behavior, his sudden concern about people taking care of themselves - 
He’d quit, and here James was, baiting him - 
Yang appeared to take his wide-eyed horror as understanding, nodding curtly and turning back to the Belladonna girl. 
“James?” Qrow was looking back in his direction, takeout box apparently rescued. “What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” he said. It was too hasty - Qrow raised an eyebrow at him as he shoveled a forkful of casserole into his mouth.
He sat awkwardly, gaze locked on a gently steaming box of takeout. He didn’t know enough about them. He didn’t know enough about anything. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t - 
He was a functional, competent adult who was in charge of massive amounts of people and weaponry, but the knowledge of just how much he was doing wrong was still enough to knock him right on his ass.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, embroiled in a morose staring contest with the gleaming white of the takeout box, when Qrow shifted closer and nudged at his left side firmly enough to make him jump.
“Relax,” he insisted, poking James again and making him jump even more. “Come on, do I have to feed it to you?”
“Qrow, I’m just not - Qrow!” The other man was looking more and more mischievous with every reaction to his poking, and James nearly groaned as he realized what was about to happen. One single night of drinking too much, a single ill-considered confession of this particular weakness, and he’d spent the better part of two decades paying for it as Qrow decided to exploit his knowledge whenever it suited him. 
“Whoa, whoa! Careful, you were almost smiling there for a second. Better get it under control, or you’ll ruin your whole-” Qrow gestured vaguely, a lazy roll of his wrist, “image”. 
Qrow pressed even closer, leaning in as James cringed away from the sensation of wiry fingers palpitating his side. His whole chest tensed in retaliation, but even that couldn’t stop his lips from curving traitorously up, or the strangled laugh pushed out of his thrumming lungs. He sucked in a breath. “Qrow, I will shoOT YOU-”
“Oh, you will? But you hugged me and everything...” Qrow withdrew a little bit and hmmed, seemingly considering. The glint in his eyes, the way Qrow was still very much in his personal space, told James that this consideration was a complete lie. “Well, at least it’ll be quick.”
Qrow pounced, knocking James back against the not-quite-soft arm of the couch. James’ spine (partially prosthetic, and it did bend, thank you very much) clicked a little as it tried to help him back up, but Qrow was already perched atop one of his legs, knee neatly pinning his right arm at the elbow and fingers reaching deftly under his coat to tickle at his hips. The prosthetics didn’t really translate ticklish well, but his left side was more than enough to trigger a wave of desperate laughter even as he flushed an embarrassed red at the surprised cries of the kids somewhere to the right.
James swung his left arm wildly, trying to jostle Qrow off. “Hey!” Qrow complained, still grinning like the imp he was as he rebalanced effortlessly and pinned the offending limb to the back of the couch. His free hand stilled briefly at James’ side before spidering ever-so-slightly upwards. “Hey, Jimmy, this still your worst spot?”
“Ngh - ha - get ohohoff! Ihi - Qrow, I mehehean it -” He was fighting to keep his voice stern, but it was so hard to be even remotely dignified when Qrow insisted on tweaking every single rib he had on the way up his torso. 
Qrow massaged lightly at his highest rib, far too close to the sensitive hollow of his trapped arm, and any composure James had left dissolved as his protests lapsed into helpless giggling. Qrow smiled down at him, obviously pleased with this reaction, and James squeezed his eyes shut to escape his gaze. “Yep, looks like it’s still pretty bad,” Qrow teased. “And what about here?”
James tugged futilely at his arm as Qrow’s fingers strayed further north, still points of pressure at the very edge of his underarm. “Well? Got anything to say?”
Still giggling, it was all James could do to shake his head. 
“Okay, then.” That strange softness again in Qrow’s voice. James opened his eyes just in time to slam them shut again as Qrow tickled mercilessly under his arm, fingers brushing over what seemed like every last nerve he had left. He was laughing so hard it hurt, wrenching at his trapped hands in a desperate attempt to get just an inch more of protection against the onslaught. He couldn’t think, couldn’t worry. 
Not the worst feeling in the world, actually. An entirely different kind of helplessness from what he’d felt at Beacon. He’d have to ponder that later when he wasn’t busy fighting for breath.
After an endless minute, his left arm slipped free and he swatted Qrow with it, using the instant of relief as Qrow laughed at his pathetic attempts to yell Qrow’s name in protest. 
Qrow finally let up, moving his knee off James’ right arm, and even before he caught his breath James reared up and punched Qrow in the shoulder hard enough to sting.
Qrow rocked back, still half-laughing, and all but pouted at him. “Ow! I didn’t punch you!”
James relaxed back against the couch arm, gulping in air until he could manage a full sentence. “Well you’re not ticklish, you ingrate, so what else am I -”
“What do you mean, ‘he’s not ticklish’?” Yang interrupted. They both froze, heads swiveling to face their spectators. 
James’ heart rate was already rising as he scrambled for any way to regain control of the situation, but his panic abated somewhat upon seeing the children’s faces. They looked amused - happy, even. He’d thought that the Faunus girl - Blake’s - ears had a permanent pained twist to them, but there they were, poised comfortably as she smiled at the two of them.
Yang and Ruby were both examining their uncle, arms crossed. “Yeah, Uncle Qrow is super ticklish!” Ruby said, grinning. “Every time we’d have tickle fights at home, Dad would-”
“Hey!” Qrow snapped, clapping his hands over James’ ears. James swiped at him again, and this time Qrow’s knee slipped right off the couch and took the rest of him with it. He knocked his elbow on the table, and half the kids sprang up to protect the food before Qrow’s semblance could break something. 
James sat up properly, and didn’t even feel a little bit bad about planting a boot atop Qrow’s back to keep him down. “Oh? Tell me everything.”
The group cringed a little - right, those secrets they were keeping - but Ruby perked right back up and launched into a description of Qrow’s most embarrassing defeat at the hands of his brother-in-law. 
When she had finished, James let a considerably less arrogant Qrow up off the floor. “I won’t act on that tonight, I think we all deserve a quiet evening.” He fixed Qrow with a stern look. “But you should be… careful.”
Qrow rolled his eyes, completely unbothered, and grabbed a random container of food to shove at James. “Shut up and eat something.”
He accepted the food gratefully, noting with considerable surprise the distinct lack of headache. 
An evening well spent, then.
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praphit · 4 years
Text
Horse Girl: What happened to white Darren?!
So, I had someone else pick the movie. Whenever others are involved, you gotta have them pick, so that if it's bad, you can blame them. That's how we come to "Horse Girl"!
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I went into it cold. All I knew was that Alison Brie is in it, and I'm here for all things Alison Brie. 
With a name like "Horse Girl", I thought there was a slim chance that it might end up being a superhero flick. Alison is finally getting her own solo comic book hero franchise. Perhaps she'll have powers similar to Aquaman, but instead of sea creatures, she talks to horses.
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I thought that perhaps she'd have the power to turn into a horse; kinda like that movie "Tusk". Have any of y'all ever watched "Tusk"? 
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Yeah, don't watch that movie; it's awful. 
In retrospect, I still don't know why this movie is called "Horse Girl". There is a horse in the movie, but... idk. Plus, shouldn't it really be "Horse Woman"? I do believe that Alison Brie is around my age. But, maybe it's a PR move. Spider-Man, in many adaptations, is really a teenager, but referring to himself as a man. Which is good, cuz I don't want to be rescued by a "Spider-Boy"; having a teenage boy flick things out of his body in order to save me? - I can't get behind that.
"Horse Girl", I can work with, cuz I'm thinking she's fresh to the hero game, unjaded, and has a real future in front of her... maybe one that involves a better code name. 
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(Look how happy she is... a real go-getter. I question her horse selection though, but she’ll learn. That horse has def been into the stuff.”
"Horse Woman" has already made her bad choices. She's used up. Frankly, I don't have a whole lot of confidence in her.
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The beginning of this movie is very girlie. Do I mean that in a bad way? - not necessarily; it's just a fact. Kinda like, um... "Jane the Virgin". 
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Nothing wrong with that show (I guess... I’ve never seen it), but I can't imagine a group of men getting together to watch it.  "Yo, y'all ready to watch a lil Jane the V?! Maybe she gonna pop that cherry tonight, man! She might just pop it! Yeah!"
Is that what the show is about? Her trying desperately each week for love or lust, and neither ever coming her way? What a sad show. But, I hear it's good, just girlie.
Meanwhile, I'm enduring the girliness of Alison Brie's fabric store, zumba sessions, bracelet making time, crying in the shower time, and upbeat convos with girl friends. I'm thinking to myself "When is she going to have her superhero origin moment?" Where's the vat of toxic waste that she falls into? 
Have a radioactive horse gnaw on her! Where's the villain?! Where's the fight?! Let's go!
She does have a bitchy roommate and her tool of a boyfriend. Apparently, her roommate thinks that Alison's life style is pathetic: working at a fabric store and home to watch her favorite supernatural cop show (every day). Every now and then, she pesters some horse, its caretakers, and some young girl who rides the horse (I know what you're thinking - “Maybe this young girl will end up being the legendary “HORSE GIRL". Nope. Again, I don't understand the choice of title for this movie). Her bitchy roommate's judgmental pestering does lead to a fling for Alison. A man by the name of "Darren".
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He looks more like a "Dave" to me. Or a “Ken”.  I wish he had a different name; he probably wishes the same. White Darrens... just... no.
A nice guy, but he's one of those people who should really end their thoughts in convo a few paragraphs earlier. Socially, he’s like a quicksand of blah. A cake with “meh” icing - I blame his name, mostly for this.  And his dancing... goodness gracious! He dances like he’s being attacked by hornets.
Though Alison's dancing isn't anything to brag about either. She dances like she’s riding a bull.
But, you can't be a white Darren and dance like that; you've either got to get lessons or make a promise to humanity to never dance. Alison's beautiful. Pretty women can get away with being horrible dancers. In fact, I think it might make them more attractive. 
"You know, Alison, you're a 10. I didn't think I had a chance with you, until I saw you dance."
So far, I don't know what type of movie this is. Is it a romantic comedy? - not really, though it has funny moments in it. Superhero flick (I know that was a long shot)? Nope. 
It's too quirky to be a drama. 
Horror? There are some moments where Alison is sleep walking. I kept hoping that we'd get a scene where she's in the shadows holding an ax. Yes, Alison! Kill! Kill them! - but again, no.
The movie starts going in a mental illness direction. Alison Brie's character slowly starts to lose her mind. We learn that it's possibly something that runs in the family. Those of you who know me, know that I'm a big advocate for mental health care & mental illness awareness. I probably would have really connected with this movie on that level, if it was directed better. There's just too much artsy, wackiness smeared over this movie. I love the idea of this film and I love what the director was going for in many parts, but... idk.
There's a great cast here. Not only Alison Brie, but Molly Shannon... or do I have those two fist names backwards?  You know her... "Superstar".
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Wait... that’ not right - that’s what popped up though. To my knowledge she has never played Jesus Christ in a musical.  Back in the day, she starred in a comedy from... wait a sec...
- you know what?? - it doesn’t matter. Maybe you don't know her anyway.  She's good in this; though it's a minor role. 
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Aaaah, there she is.
Got my man Paul what's-his-face up in here! That’s my main man!
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Who... um...  y’all probably don’t know either. To be honest, I barely know these people. What am I doing?
I’m trying to say that the acting talent is here! - regardless if you know peeps like Paul what’s-his-face or not. And the bitchy roommate and her annoying boyfriend really made me hate them, so that's points for their acting, I suppose.
This could have been a thoughtful drama about mental illness, with comedy sprinkled in, and making a point. The movie/Tv landscape needs more stuff like that (especially these days, with people losing it, during this pandemic).
It seems like the director was going more for "creative genius" acclaim. Unfortunately, he missed the mark, by a lot. Again, I saw what he (I'm assuming it's a he - I don't actually know) was going for, and there are some really creative parts here, but... the message is a bit muddy, and the pacing is rough at best (not unlike this post).
. You know what, I'm going to go ahead and say it's a man who directed this, because there's a nude scene from Alison Brie that doesn't really need to be there. The director is trying to show the mental collapse of this woman, and... you know... when people lose their minds, they tend to walk through their place of business naked. I'm sure that most male directors would have all main actresses have a similar scene, if they thought that they could get away with it. Picture "The Avengers" director -
"I really think that Scarjo needs to be nude in this scene.” 
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“Maybe she's in the shower, when her team calls for help. She's so dedicated that she doesn't have time to put on clothes. It'll be a powerful scene. Trust me. Really zoom-in. Annnnd ACTION!"
That scene with Alison Brie is not terrible. Maybe I'm nitpicking.
It would have been a better use of Alison Brie's acting chops to have her walk in looking rough (maybe scantily clad... or in her underwear, if you must), but here could have been some of those artsy shots while she's walking around the store in a bit of a fugue state (if you do that butt-neked, it'll seem gratuitous). But, maybe have her say and do some things that have been building up through the movie, for an Oscar-Nudging climax, and emotional scene of her losing her grip on reality. But, far be it from me to be a backseat director. I'm just a rambling praphit. Just have her jiggle in, cry, and jiggle out. That's better.
Grade: an interesting D 
I'm glad that I watched it, because there are a lot of good ideas here, but... you know.
Of course, maybe she's not crazy after all. Things go super wacky towards the end. Something about aliens and clones. Oh, and she does technically get a superhero outfit.
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Looking like a Power Ranger for some reason. 
There’s also a scene where she (as a Pink Power Ranger) gets it on with white Darren... like out of nowhere. But, did that even happen? Idk.
Was it all in her head? Was the reality of the sitch, that she broke into white Darren’s place, wrapped in pink fabric, and tried to dry-hump white Darren, while he was sleeping? Then, IN HER HEAD, he thinks that’s hot. She only THINKS that they got it on. In reality, he refused her crazy advances, and as a result, she kills him. She beheads him... with a spoon or something. The director is strange, so why not?? Or maybe she takes him (or his head) away as some alien sacrifice. It’s really weird, because after their “ sexy time” the movie just kinda moves on from him. It’s very awkward. 
What happened to white Darren?! What was real?! Who knows??
Things get crazier and crazier, until... I don't even know what happened. I guess they're leaving it up to the audience to decide whether or not it's all true or she’s crazy. It's hard to tell, sometimes, whether you've got a clever ending on your hands or a lazy director, who decides "Hey, let's do something really weird in the last scene
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and then just... kinda... end."
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tehkatie · 5 years
Text
Skam France season 3 has come to a close and I have a lot to say. So buckle up. I’ll start with the fact that I’ve learned to give a show and it’s showrunners a chance before I start hating and bitching. I remember that I once said that none of the remakes could emulate the level of perfection that Skam OG season 3 had to me when I saw it for the first time. I said that if I had it my way none of the remakes would be able to touch season 3. Beyond that I showed Skam France so much hatred at the start. I said I hated the girl squad, I said I disliked Lucas and Yann, I said I had issues with the casting and acting, and I gave up on it. I’d personally like to kick my own ass. Like me now and past me can square the fuck up.
I should’ve given them a chance because Skam France season 3 is without a doubt one of the best pieces of teen media that I’ve seen in my life. That’s a big statement and I want y’all to know that I don’t say it lightly. This is coming from someone who’s watched most of the teen shows available for me to watch since I was a teenager myself. I don’t give a shit what anyone else says, this lived up to the OG in every way possible. And they truly proved me wrong. Like I was fucking wrong. Y’all don’t understand how negative I was about Axel playing Lucas. I was like he can’t act and there’s just no way he’ll pull me in like Tareji playing Isak. I didn’t even want to watch season 3 and I truly was not going to until I stumbled into the tag on the day the ‘call your girlfriend’ clip dropped. I caught up and holy shit. Bitch I was beyond wrong.
This season of Skam France will forever have my soul in a tight ass grip. It was so tonaly different than OG. It’s like it turned the dial from a 10 to a 100. I feel more than comfortable with calling this a reimagining rather than a remake. Lucas was not Isak and Eliott was not Even to me. Sure they had the same choices but also vastly different mindsets that led them to those choices. And even somewhat different results at times. Because of that it became its own entity for me and that’s all I ever wanted from these remakes. As each episode passed it became impossible for me to personally keep comparing it to OG beyond trying to predict when clips would come. Although it was a similar story the important thing is that nothing felt exactly the same.
The France team took this story and tailor made it for their characters, their country, and the message they wanted to communicate. I was so scared that this remake in particular wouldn’t take any big risks but they did. They changed some personalities drastically, reworked storylines, upped the dramatic feel while keeping it realistic, added and rearranged clips, changed up the roles everyone played in Lucas’s life, and made the symbolism fit their own story. It was so beautifully done. Once I saw Vendredi 20hr27 1 and Samedi 9h17 I began to think this was one of those very rare cases where gold was struck twice. My thoughts were confirmed with the rest of episode 5 to episode 10.
Because of the way they made me feel with each clip drop I will always revel in the fact that I got to watch this one truly live. I came in pretty late for season 3 of OG during hiatus week. I missed all the actual tension, the back and forth, generally most of the struggles other than the MI storyline. But this time boy did I feel everything. Like I said before I came in to this one at the ‘call your girlfriend’ clip and couldn’t stop daily checking the tag until this last clip. I legit felt what Lucas did and for a show to give me emotions like that when I’ve ‘seen it’ not once but twice before....I don’t have words y’all omg. This whole season was painful, powerful, beautiful, and brilliant. My heart still hurts.
Now I’m going to touch on the hate briefly y’all. Stick with me. Though I personally loved every choice David and Niels made with this season, they couldn’t please everyone. People wanted to yell bad writing when something didn’t go their way or how they thought it should’ve. There was no trust from some. Even when we all know exactly how this show works. Of course characters were going to say and do stupid shit because guess what? They’re 16. They also didn’t react the same in every situation either which real humans wouldn’t. So nothing was ever OOC to me. Just like people, the characters changed through each experience and I adore them for keeping that aspect of life. It was truly so amazing to see everything happen in real time and see how these characters developed day by day. Every character had some sort of development even if Lucas was the focus. I’m sitting here in tears yet again just so amazed and so grateful that we got this remake and the chance to meet all of these amazing characters. I adored the relationships between Lucas and his support system aka le gang & le crew & le coloc. I fell in love with the characters of Lucas and Eliott, and their love. But most of all I fell in love with the story of Lucas and his journey to accepting and educating himself.
I also loved the fandom because man y’all we are some passionate messes. With all the theories, meta posts, clip reactions, gif sets, memes that were made to brighten everyone’s moods, David Baguette, THE HUNT FOR ELIOTT’S INSTA, the running gag of Eliott being a ghost lmaoooo, THE CLOWN MAKE UP, us wanting to give Axel an Oscar, loving Maxence to death, WANTING TO FIGHT AXEL FOR POSTING THEN DELETING PICTURES IN 5 SECONDS, religiously watching Maxence’s lives, Ouba and Brian, Axel being a meme, the bunny hat from Maxence’s live, TRAJEUDI AND VENDREADI, and overall just everything. It was the most fun I’ve had watching an emotionally taxing show. When it made me cry, y’all made me laugh. So thank you. Ready for round 2?
Now I’ve got to talk about the cast & crew. I can’t even put into words how proud I am of Axel, Maxence, David, Niels, and everyone else in the cast & crew. Like they all made this season something that I’ll never forget. I’m going to be rewatching forever and showing anyone that is interested in a journey of acceptance and understanding. David and Niels went in with a vision and I saw it in all its beauty. They truly went there hardcore. Sometimes it was hard to even rewatch clips because it was so aligned with certain parts of my experience. I remember when watching OG and Italia I saw myself in Isak and Martino and I was so scared that I wouldn’t have that with Lucas. But I did and I’m forever grateful for that.
Axel truly made me feel everything and if I could personally say thank you to him I would. I’d also like a second to apologize to him for any doubt I had in the past. Of course he won’t see this but still. I’m beyond sorry. I truly couldn’t imagine anyone but him playing Lucas anymore. He knocked it out of the park and I hope he’s as proud of himself as we are of him. And Maxence, first acting job? Sorry I call bullshit. His portrayal of Eliott was one of the most amazing debuts I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m insanely proud of him. He’s one of only a small handful of people that I’ve seen portray bipolar disorder so well. Like to the point where actually diagnosed people felt represented. That’s so beautiful to me. That they got to see themselves represented in a character that was handled with the utmost care. I’ll end the praising on this note, casting Axel and Maxence was one of the best decisions ever made. Trust me when I say no matter how much we love Elu we’ll likely never love them as much as those two do.
Okay in conclusion, Skam, Skam Italia, and Skam France are the types of stories I wish would’ve been out there way before now. I’m so happy that the teens of these days that are struggling with their sexuality or mental illness will get such realistic, heartwarming, and amazing stories like these. I can’t believe this is the final clip we’ll have from Lucas’s perspective but I’m so happy his journey has come to a ‘to be continued’. He’s been to hell and back over the course of these two and a half months. Even though there will be no true ‘happy ending’ there’s definitely a bright future ahead for him, his support system, and for the love of his life Eliott. In case the cast and crew ever foolishly forget, I’ll never not be thinking of them. Ugh love them and love y’all. Now onto our French queen Imane!! Viva la France!!
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finefeatheredfriend · 5 years
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Genocide! (the book. not like. actual genocide.)
Okay so it’s been a while since I posted one of my EDA reviews, and it’s been a while since I read this particular book (because I’ve been at a place where they don’t have wifi for about two months now so I couldn’t post it (since for some reason I always post these from the laptop but yeah ANYWAY.)) but here is another one of my weird reviews/liveblog things! 
This time, it’s Genocide! And I think, if I remember correctly, I liked this one. Well. I mean. Jo is in this one, so of course I liked it. Anyway! I’m gonna read these reactions I had while reading this book now (cause my memory is awful and I literally remember nothing except that Jo was in it lol) and then maybe I’ll be able to tell you how I liked it!
As usual, here are my favourite bits of reactions/quotes/scenes/impressions from when I read this, and the full liveblog will be under the cut! Enjoy my rambly thoughts!
AAAH the Doctor’s pretending he got his outfit from 1893 but Sam saw the label and knows it’s from a costume store I’m screaming
I love that Sam made a scaling system because every single situation with the Doctor is dangerous so the question is no longer ‘is this situation dangerous?’ but ‘how dangerous is this situation’ hahaha i love her
‘We all have to be daleks sometimes. It’s just a matter of knowing when you really don’t have a choice’ - Doctor (ooooh I love this line) 
“Do you know what it's like, Doctor? To watch them die, to hear them die, and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it?” STOP IT of course he knows!!! now I’m crying :(
[Cliff] LEFT JO???? who would ever want to leave JO??? I mean. now she’s finally free to marry sexy yates instead so I guess that’s fine BUT WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND
I know this was before storm warning came out and probably references something entirely different but still, THE UNCREATOR
wait a minute did jo just go and lift rowenna and is now running while carrying her??? uh she’s... strong
oh god how I hope there’s an easier alternative in which no species gets killed off :( ....... eileen this book is literally called genocide
“So you are human.' 'No, not exactly, but that doesn't matter.” Doctor... what... ‘not exactly’?
Jo and Sam have been alone for 6 days??? I mean, 5 and a half hours were bad for Rose, sure, but that has nothing on being stranded without the Doctor 2 million years in the past, in Africa, for six bloody days omg
aaaah the Doctor can hear Jo’s screams from millions of years in the future (Doctor x Jo confirmed)
I can’t believe Jo of all people would kill all those aliens! like... that’s genocide. just. I don’t believe it. not Jo. she’d never
Okay, so here’s my thoughts about the book: I loved it! The fact that we’ve got a non humanoid species here (that I at first thought were Nimons - imagine my disappointment when I found out they weren’t) is so interesting, learning all about them (they have a smell alphabet?? that’s so cool) is so... interesting (yeah, this book is interesting, I know I say that a lot lol). And Jo. asdfgdasflgadgs. I love her. Having her there definitely made the whole book better, though in my opinion I would have really enjoyed the book so much even if she weren’t in it. The only sad thing is that we didn’t get to see her off. She was just gone suddenly! But I loved the book nonetheless.
Okay, you know the drill. Under the cut you’ll find my unabridged reactions that I wrote down while reading! I bolded what I put in the highlights reel. 
okaaay this is interesting
I’m confused but it’s interesting
and I love that framing story line they’ve got going with that alien and the Doctor in what i think is a cell of some sort..?
ok I spoiled myself that jo is in this one (I was bummed that it wasn’t a surprise BUT I’m more excited that she even is in this book so I don’t care AAH MY WIFE IS IN THIS!!)
ok :/ so the aliens aren’t nimons :/
UNIT!!! I mean I don’t know what the alien’s plan is, but they mentioned UNIT!!
“more of his stuff was fake than he was generally prepared to admit” jfjdhdhdg
AAAH the Doctor’s pretending he got his outfit from 1893 but Sam saw the label and knows it’s from a costume store I’m screaming
aaaaah they mention my boy oscar wilde!!
“When he got there he looked over his shoulder and flashed her a smile. 'Guess.' No good, thought Sam. I've been out-cooled again. But I'll get him, one day. If it's the last thing I do.” jdhdhdhgd i love her (and him)
aw no his shoes being sucked into the swamp and he got really sad because grace gave him those shoes and now he wants to repair them at all costs!!
“Something was usually wrong. It was really a matter of scale. Sam had started to rate them in scores out of ten: for instance, (1) the Doctor had misdirected the TARDIS, (5) he'd landed them in the middle of a war zone, or (10) he'd accidentally destroyed the universe.” hahahaha and the situation they’re in is a 2.5, that doesn’t sound too bad haha
“Get back inside!' ordered the Doctor. 'I am inside,' said Sam simply. 'You're not.” Doctor i love you
okaaay we’re slowly raising the danger score point by point and are now at 3.5
hm ok so Sam determined that they are on earth where the invasion had already happened and humans are extinct just by seeing a river and thinking ‘oh yeah, could be the right size to be the thames’ like ??? how do you think you can say all that for sure from guessing that maybe that river you see there is a similar size to that of the Thames
‘even simplicity itself is never as simple as it seems’
oooh I wouldn’t want the Doctor to tell me off I couldn’t stand to have him be disappointed in me
‘We all have to be daleks sometimes. It’s just a matter of knowing when you really don’t have a choice’ - Doctor (ooooh I love this line)
“Wine's bad for your liver, you know.' Rowenna grinned at Julie. 'So are candy bars.' 'I ate a slice of pizza first!' 'Case proven.” I snorted
MY BABY
THEY’RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT JO
wait Rowenna was one of those people in the green death living with cliff????
flying lizards?? flying lizards????? you mean dragons??
earth reptile... a Silurian??
I love how this book is about non humanoid aliens, we rarely see that
“Do you know what it's like, Doctor? To watch them die, to hear them die, and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it?” STOP IT of course he knows!!! now I’m crying :(
JO
MY BABY
SHE!!!!
she’s here
finally
she has a son!! I mean we know she’s got a lot of grandkids but still!!
wait
“leaning across the cold sheets that she'd probably always think of as Cliffs side of the bed” this sounds like he died
he LEFT
he LEFT JO???? who would ever want to leave JO??? I mean. now she’s finally free to marry sexy yates instead so I guess that’s fine
BUT
who would leave jo??????
Cliff gave her an anniversary present AFTER HE LEFT HER??? what
BENTON
“ "Kilgai, Tanzania. Incident class N",' she read. 'What's class N?' 'They divide incidents up into Y for "Yes, it does immediately threaten the existence of the human race" and N for "No, it doesn't".” BENTON you... joker
oooh that’s a an interesting kind of book, these aliens have a smell alphabet? and read by sniffing or tasting the different scents..?
and the Doctor can read those books as well omg
the uNCREATOR
I know this was before storm warning came out and probably references something entirely different but still, THE UNCREATOR
wait but in storm warning they weren’t called tractites right
oh no those were triscele or whatever
oh I hate this
why do the tractites have to be so nice :( I don’t want them all to die :(
then again it’s a nice change away from the usual ‘these aliens are bad and that’s why we need to kill them’ that happens in all the other movies or shows
oh Sam can read those books too so apparently it’s not just a special power the Doctor has
please sam do NOT try to stop the Doctor from setting history right
yes those aliens are nice
but please
“A galaxy long, long ago and far, far away.” aaaah
“She wondered if she was walking into a trap. She'd always been good at that.” you’re surprisingly self aware jo
this is SUCH an interesting story?!?? like... kitig has to decide whether to kill the Doctor because he might destroy them all (which tbf the Doctor is actually planning to do) BUT THEN he decides to help him when he gets ill!!!
“Jo turned round, said calmly, 'Shut up, I'm talking to my friend,' then turned back to Rowenna. 'Don't worry about him, he's nobody. Have you seen the aliens yet?” Jo I fucking love you jsdjsjsggs
wait a minute did jo just go and lift rowenna and is now running while carrying her??? uh she’s... strong
oh god how I hope there’s an easier alternative in which no species gets killed off :(
eileen this book is literally called genocide
stop pretending everything is going to be fine
Jo is badass in this one and I love her
ARE THEY GONNA MEET NOW
I need the doctor and jo to meet
AAAAAH they really are heading for Africa too!!!!!! THEY’RE GOING TO MEET
the Doctor is wearing a white cloth sun-hat ahahahah
ok so both Sam and Jo are walking around the desert now and I’m guessing those two are going to meet first
aaaah the Doctor found rowenna and Julie!!!!
TRUST ME I’M A DOCTOR asdgdhhsgs why does he always have to say that haha
Awww he’s so happy that Jo is around there too
NOOOOOO ROWENNA
NOOO I was like ‘oh that’s jo saving Sam from the homo habilis right?? Hahaha!’ BUT IT’S THAT DICK JACOB
aw the Doctor buried them in the butterfly room
“So you are human.' 'No, not exactly, but that doesn't matter.” Doctor... what... ‘not exactly’?
“the floppy Indiana Jones hat and the purple striped pullover that looked ten years out of date, even for someone of Jo's advanced age” that sounds so like jo haha
“Yes, sorry, I do look a bit of a wreck. Don't worry, I can control the pain. Old Gallifreyan technique.” ooh another interesting bit of info about gallifreyan physiology - that is, if the Doctor isn’t lying to reassure Kitig he’s fine
Noooooo not the TARDIS!!!!!!
Jo and Sam have been alone for 6 days??? I mean, 5 and a half hours were bad for Rose, sure, but that has nothing on being stranded without the Doctor 2 million years in the past, in Africa, for six bloody days omg
Ha Sam, that teaches you to underestimate the absolute angel that is Jo Grant (don’t judge her by her clothes, Sam. this woman has lived on campsites and faced off aliens and is just overall an absolute angel.)
oh god I hate Jacob. but he’s surprisingly self aware (‘if humankind are all like me then no wonder their world will fall apart,’ he thinks while literally drinking an antelope’s blood directly from the neck)
NO JOOOO pls be alright aaah she just fell down the cliff????
aaaah there’s Sam and Theta written into the rock!!!! THETA!!!!
NOOOO SAM
don’t die please
I mean I kind of know you’re not going to die because I know you’ll be there for a bit longer
BUT STILL
DON’T DIE
oh no!!! the TARDIS is like she was in Father’s Day noooo
aaaah the Doctor can hear Jo’s screams from millions of years in the future (Doctor x Jo confirmed)
no
the TARDIS changed????? but she was perfect like that :(
oh wait hahahaha that was just Jo’s point of view it’s still the same thank god
and the vw beetle is just parked right there in the console room hahahahaha
“Outside, the Doctor was running down a grassy slope, fire exploding to the left and right of him. 'Usual situation,' said Jo wryly, running for the door.” jshajsghshsdha I love them
Noooooo axeman!!!!
Oh god Sam no
what have you done
Don’t just kill :(
oh no not Jo as well
I’m crying oh god JO
I can’t believe Jo of all people would kill all those aliens
like... that’s genocide
just. I don’t believe it. not Jo. she’d never
hehehe the empress reminds him of Davros
I love how he just whispers with Sam while the empress is speaking and clearly looking at them lol
aw kitig saved the world from the time tree
Sam you have to tell him!!! and not when he’s asleep!!! (what is it with people telling other people important things while that person is unconscious ugh!!)
wait what happened to jo?? we didn’t get to see her off!!!
And that’s all! Hope you enjoyed this!
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duckbeater · 5 years
Text
Some Notes on A. S. Hamrah
A lifetime ago, I thought it’d be rewarding to teach A. S. Hamrah’s “A Better Moustrap” to first-year students struggling through their second semester of basic comp. I wanted to wow them with Hamrah’s heedless deployment of unsettling theses, argued crisply and irreverently, in an essay that supplies a plausible solution to its concerns (a rarity among most rhetorical appeals, whose authors left my students stimulated but empty-handed). Very in the vein of “A Modest Proposal,” “Mousetrap” confronts a social ill—fetish videos where women crush small animals to death under their Stilettos—yet proposes a non-ironic salve: “crushies,” where “the must-have plush-toys of the Christmas rush will be smashed underfoot.” Most of my course was based on weird internet shit, which I thought (I still think) mostly anyone can appreciate, especially the young. “Mousetrap” is full of that weird-internet-shit jouissance.
“Reading this is like eating your favorite food,” I told the class. “You’re just gonna shovel in ideas. They’re all delicious. Eh, they’re pretty weird, too. But it’ll be fun.” It wasn’t fun. Nobody read the essay. Moving through its arguments, in front of twenty-five nineteen-year-olds and a few grandmothers, was embarrassing. I had to dissect Hamrah’s great takes on crush video culture, his movements through film history, his appraisals of Mickey Rooney, then his wider and, to me, scintillating prognostications on American adulthood—an adulthood most everyone in the classroom (accepting the grannies) was soon to inherit—totally alone. “Do you watch these videos?” one student asked. “Then what’s your fetish?” asked another. “Bryson fucks books!” became the consensus. (“I fuck your dads!” I thankfully did not say but very much wanted to. I was a coward; this partially explains why no one bothered to complete my assignments.)
Flying solo—or falling sans parachute, as the case may be—through Hamrah’s film criticism and cultural reportage of the last decade has probably been a shared experience among his far-flung admirers. Finding his byline in Bookforum or the obscure domain of the International Federation of Film Critics or mirrored pages from the defunct Hermenaut was usually the result of a periodic Google search. If he appears more regularly now, and more regularly in prestige venues, that’s the fault of n+1, where he’s contributed reviews tri-quarterly since roughly 2008.
Indeed, it was Hamrah’s initial, online-only contribution that inspired so much ardor and devotion. “Oscars Previews” provided bright, bursting capsules—the gleeful bitchery of a best friend's phone call. Apparently this quality was transliterated from its material creation, when he reported the piece to his editor, Keith Gessen, over a phone, after complaining he didn’t have time to write the thing. Each entry in this salvo (none are more than a hundred or so words) lands with a zinger. They have the polish of a joke, featuring a setup, some reinforcement and then a payoff. He even plays some of his capsules against each other as callbacks. The entirety of Hamrah’s entry on Michael Clayton reads: “There was a lot of driving in Michael Clayton. I like driving in movies but after a while Michael Clayton started to seem like a car ad—though it showed how a car ad can be liberal. That’s a message for our times.” The wit is authoritative, hypnotic, dismissive. The taste behind these pronouncements felt sui generis, and the criticisms brief enough to be dispatched verbatim without attribution. I was a senior in college when I first read Hamrah. I had a busy season of parties at professor’s houses and dined-out on his opinions for weeks. 
This is not to say Hamrah only works when you’re young and grasping for style. But I do think it’s evident now that his short forms are the seedbed for his long form successes, paper sketches for the larger canvas. When you read enough of Hamrah’s capsule reviews, you get the sense he’s reporting exactly (or only) what fits into his little joke, sometimes you can even hear him reaching for his beats. When you read a whole book of them, you get the sense Hamrah’s less interested in the works under review than in his performance of reviews, his performance of freedom and audacity.
The Earth Dies Streaming, apart from film writing, is a log of Hamrah’s fascination with his persona, his brand of humor and arch sensibilities. He’s not exactly a curmudgeon—he wants readers to know he’s tried too many drugs to be a curmudgeon (comparisons to acid trips crop up, as does “bad speed”)—and he’s not exactly an academic (despite his Ivy League bona fides as a corporate semiotician)—and he’s not even a movie reviewer in the jejune, crass, sell-out way so many movie reviewer must be in today’s enfeebled, saturated, and deeply compromised market (he tries “to never include anything in [his] writing that could be extracted and used for publicity”). This is where I trot out a gif of Amy Poehler playing a Cool Mom in Mean Girls. Hamrah’s bobblehead offers virgin daiquiris to teenage cineastes. “I’m not like a regular film critic,” he says, “I’m a cool film critic.” The tits, the wink, the velour sweatsuit.
Other irritations. Hamrah’s insistence on the inferiority of animated films and his churlish dismissal of Miyazaki’s contributions to the medium’s history. He’s always on accident catching some part of a children’s movie—on an airplane, in a public clinic—and using these unsatisfactory experiences to comment on the aesthetics and advancements of animation at large. It’s a hobby horse he flays as often as Adorno assaulted jazz, and (to both their credits), slightly adorable for how insistent and under-thought. If only, as he does in “Jessica Biel’s Hand,” he would immerse himself in the backlog of lauded animation from this century and the last, he might, for once, be able to say something interesting about it.
Hamrah’s stance against feature-length animation is nearly as looming and placeless as his stance against other films critics, whom he evidently reads closely but can never be bothered to cite. His essays are peppered with a dreaded sea of bought-off weekly reviewers whose pedestrian tastes frustrate him. This, despite the regularly insightful, playful, and overall helpful criticism of David Edelstein and Emily Yoshida at New York; Dana Stevens at Slate; Manhola Darghis at the Times; Justin Chang in Los Angeles; and the fairly dour takes of Peter Debruge in the industry’s digest, Variety. Hamrah alludes to David Denby’s work in Streaming’s introduction, then names him outright in a later capsule review of Little Children. Otherwise, your guess is as good as mine as to with what critical consensus Hamrah finds his views out of alignment. These are critics and journalists who, obliged by deadlines, report weekly on their film-going habits. That they have new things to say even once a month is a miracle, but that they do so four to ten times a month is frankly incredible. (It must be evident that I’m a fan of movie reviews and film criticism. I work an office job where between menials I find intense delight and distraction in the work of daily reviewers, and I carry around with me an ungainly amount of knowledge regarding box office performances and future releases that in all other ways I have no interaction: I go to the movies maybe three times a month, often by myself, and often I see low-brow flicks. Last weekend I saw the third How to Train Your Dragon movie; the weekend before that, Isn’t It Romantic; a weekend before that, Roma. I saw these movies on the advice of daily reviewers, and Roma only after reading Caleb Crain’s celebration of it.)
I volunteer Richard Brody and Christian Lorentzen as Hamrah’s contemporary intellectual kin, with caveats. Brody’s work is too mystical, too mythical to properly critique his subjects, and his symptomatic readings, which border on the Lacanian in terms of the extraneous and deranged, become hulking apertures that always overtake whatever work is under discussion, squashing them. Also he is never, ever funny in his reviews. Brody is a curmudgeon, and what he criticizes rarely appears in the films themselves but float around the films’ receptions, financing or forebears, and when he ventures into specifics—a film’s lensing, its sound, the actors and their acting styles—his descriptions become ridiculous. Lorentzen, as with his book reviews, writes to a word count. (There is no other reason for the amount of tedious plot summary in a Lorentzen take-down.) If Hamrah sounds like these critics, it may be because all three are careful in their dissents to let the filmmakers know they think they’re complete assholes. When these three do find praise for a work, it’s the entirely appropriate object of adoration, art-house and independent, or, gotcha!, a studio event they appreciate for more correct, more interesting, and more nuanced reasons than everyone else.
What sets these critics apart from the daily reviewers I listed above, may be the daily reviewers’ capacity to surprise and be surprised. Perhaps they saw a movie with a daughter and her friend; they appreciated a family flick in context; they were caught unawares by stray scenes in a larger, unsuccessful work, and appreciated glimpsed wisdom. They have hope yet for a return to better forms. These reviewers are flexible and receptive; they are as likely to be charmed as they are to be chagrined. Even when Brody, Lorentzen and Hamrah are surprised by the quality of a work, they take it as an affront to their sensibilities and bridle, like horses suspicious of an open gate. Why were they not warned? Why should they trust this development? Their reflexive, ingrained annoyance, occasionally flowering into high dudgeon, fills their actual reviews with foregone conclusions. One does not visit their writing for news, or for new takes, for synthesized connections, or revelations of form. One visits for the comforting familiarity of a flagging standard—“a continuity of aesthetics that [has] become an aesthetics of continuity,” if I’m remembering the St Aubyn phrase correctly.
Criticism this entrenched in its own personality ends up toothless. It’s why Renata Adler, for instance, will be remembered for her reporting and not her film criticism. Despite its bite—and it’s quite biting—it rarely leaves a mark. Hamrah never cites Adler—nor do I think he will. His prose and her prose are rather too alike. He must sense the comparison coming, and dislike it, because Adler is not particularly well informed on film and filmmaking. Her amateurish moonlighting grated in 1968, and it grates now, but only for its prosumer-level expertise. Her prose (like Hamrah’s) remains indelible, deadpan, and addictive. When I recall the subhead to Kyle Paoletta’s appreciation of Hamrah, “Always On: A. S. Hamrah’s film criticism is a welcome corrective in an outmoded field,” I consider Adler’s own attempts at the form, as a corrective. And I find them contiguous with other platforms discussing same, places like Slate, Twitter, and The Ringer’s Exit Survey, which preempts the leap from hot take to tweet. (Q: “What is your tweet-length review of Venom?” A: “What if All of Me (1984) but action and also tater tot–loving aliens?”) What I’m saying is this: Hamrah’s form is not novel. His tone is not novel. His writing is, however, very convenient (brief, digestible) and entertaining, and he’s been adding more personal atmosphere of late.
So the named lodestars in Hamrah’s critical firmament: Pauline Kael, Susan Sontag, Jonathan Rosenbaum, J. Hoberman and Manny Farber (to whom Hamrah pens an exceptionally sweet and informative essay). Hoberman, the only critic still alive among these titans, shares Hamrah’s acid tongue and penchant for political excavations, while doing his readers a courtesy by assuming not all of them attend film festivals or live in limited-release area codes. The same semester I taught “A Better Mousetrap,” I taught Sontag on sci-fi movies and Hoberman’s seminal “21st Century Cinema: Death and Resurrection in the Desert of the (New) Real” (later to become his book-length essay, Film After Film). Hoberman can be as tart and irreverent as Hamrah, but he’s not above recounting plot summaries. He’s both a guide and a rebel. I suppose, following my own argument, if in fact I’m making one, this makes Hoberman the better critic—a classification that would not hurt Hamrah’s feelings. (This would hurt very few film critics’ feelings.)   
Very little of the above matters. I had hoped to answer why, then I got bored (then I had to go to work; after that, I had to design a booth for a marketing expo in London; then I lost the thread). When I was in Brooklyn last December, I dropped into the Spoonbill on Montrose. The first book I bought on my second time in New York City was Hamrah’s The Earth Dies Streaming, and I carried it about like an obsessive as I made my way by foot to Prospect Park. I devoured it in a few days. I devoured it again on the plane ride back to Chicago. And I’ve read all the capsules before, and most of the essays—they’re usually posted in front of paywalls. If I quibble with Hamrah, it may be because he’s made me a better writer, and surely a better thinker, yet I found that I disliked my own dismissiveness and superiority, my own rigidity. If I can name my influences, I thought, I can break from them. But this is unso. 
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tmcastandcrew · 6 years
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Hollywood star Simon Baker said he had no acting ambitions at first
April 28, 2018
Thank you  @YohkoTheHunter
Huge Interview ahead >>
He was working as a pool attendant at the newly opened Sanctuary Cove resort. Any spare time, any spare thought, was spent chasing waves on the Gold Coast, and crashing with his surfie mates at their fibro shack which backed on to the beach at Surfers Paradise. It was the twilight of the 1980s and Simon Baker, a carefree school graduate, had no idea, and no real cares, about what lay ahead.
“No, no, no, I didn’t have any acting dreams,” the now 48-year-old father-of-three insists when U on Sunday sits down with him at the plush QT Hotel in Surfers Paradise for a chat about his latest film, Breath, based on Tim Winton’s novel.
It’s about 30 years since Baker lived here. In the interim, his ruggedly handsome face, sharp blue eyes and self-deprecating smile have taken him all the way to Hollywood Boulevard, where he has his own star on the sidewalk; and seen him receive critical acclaim, and an adoring fan base for his movie roles (Red Planet,The Devil Wears Prada and Margin Call) and television gigs (The Guardian, and his most famous role as maverick police consultant Patrick Jane on The Mentalist).
Not surprisingly, this same natural charm led to Baker’s first acting opportunity which came by accident rather than by design. And it happened in Brisbane.
“We were going camping,” he says, setting up the story of how he and a mate were driving up from the Coast when his friend said they had to make a slight detour into Brisbane because he had an audition for a TV ad.
“My friend told me I could wait in the car or come in and hang out; so I came into the waiting room and the casting woman came in with a clipboard and said to me ‘Have you signed in’ and I said: ‘Oh no, I’m just here with a friend’, and she said, ‘why don’t you sign in and go in’.
“I had never done drama or improvisation before. I was used to knocking around with my mates – a bit of jive talk on the beach, on the streets, that’s all,’’ he laughs.
Needless to say he got the gig. Two years later he landed a job on the Australian TV soapie E Street (“I wasn’t trying for it,’’ he again insists) playing fresh-faced Constable Sam Farrell. It was on that series that he met his future wife, Gold Coast-raised actor Rebecca Rigg.
Baker apologises in advance for eating during our chat. His mop of boyish golden-curled hair and grey flecked-stubble is lit with a wide grin, and deep laugh before he proceeds to wolf down a salad wrap and some fruit pieces. He is refuelling after making the most of a rare break from promotional duties at last week’s Queensland premiere of Breath at the Gold Coast Film Festival, to catch up for “a quick paddle with the boys’’.
The boys are Samson Coulter and Ben Spence who play the lead roles of Pikelet, 13, and Loonie, 14, in the film. Baker co-wrote, co-produced and co-stars in Breath which is also his directorial debut.
As a father of two teenage boys himself, Baker has developed a strong bond with his young proteges with Coulter from Sydney and Spence from Western Australia.
Baker’s own family are never far from his mind, and, at an exclusive U on Sundayphoto shoot earlier at Burleigh Heads, he was keen to capture a shot of the stunning beach scene to show his tribe at home. He celebrates 20 years of marriage this year to Rigg and the couple has three children, Stella Breeze, 24, Claude Blue, 19, and Harry Friday, 16.
He says all of his children go for a “paddle now and then’’ but it is his youngest Harry, who has inherited his father’s passion for surfing.
“It’s a great joy in seeing him (Harry) surf and catch waves,’’ he explains. “I like seeing him gain trust and physical confidence in himself; to trust his wits in certain situations, because that is what a lot of what surfing teaches you.’’
Baker explains he tries to find the right balance between encouraging Harry and ensuring he doesn’t pressure his son to tackle challenging waves he is not yet ready for, because “you can’t push them into those things’’. He says it is important that Harry develops his surfing skills at his own pace.
This caring fatherly approach is the opposite pathway taken by his character “Sando’’ in the coming of age film Breath. The adrenaline-junkie Sando is former world professional surfing star Bill Sanderson who becomes like a “guru’’ to his “wide-eyed disciples’’ Bruce “Pikelet” Pike and best friend Ivan “Loonie” Loon.
Pikelet and Loonie, under the tutelage of Sando, learn to surf increasingly bigger and more dangerous monster waves as Sando conditions their minds and bodies to pursue the extraordinary. Pikelet’s parents, played by Richard Roxburgh and Rachael Blake, remain oblivious to their son’s adventures, as Sando lures, even bullies, them on his increasingly perilous missions.
Roxburgh says Baker is a natural director, and an excellent mentor to the young novice actors.
“I was attracted to working with Simon because I’ve always thought he was a lovely bloke, a terrific actor, and I thought he would work really well with the young actors,’’ he says.
Roxburgh says his role as the staid and reserved father becomes a counterpoint to Baker’s risk-taking and larger-than-life Sando.
“My character is part of the domestic backdrop, I’m often at the garden shed, being very kindly and terribly worried about my son’s wellbeing. I know something is wrong, but I cannot identify it,’’ Roxburgh says.
When Sando and Loonie go overseas on a big-wave excursion, an unsettled Pikelet starts spending unhealthy periods of time alone with Sando’s headstrong wife Eva (Elizabeth Debecki), who carries a permanent knee injury from competitive aerial skiing.
“The film is about the anguish of parenting, of being a parent and watching your son moving and shifting away, being pulled away from you in this strong current and the terrible fear that goes with that,’’ Roxburgh says.
It took Sydney-based Baker a year to cast the two leading actors after a social media call-out to competent surfers netted thousands of entries from around the country including many from Queensland’s Gold Coast and Sunshine Coast.
Baker, who did much of his own surfing, is surprised that Winton envisaged him as Sando for the film version of his 2009 Miles Franklin Award winner and much-loved bestseller.
“I suppose I don’t know too many actors who surf, there’s a few that have a paddle,’’ Baker says. “I’m at that point, where it is sort of getting sad, because my body is not keeping up with what my heart and mind want to do, sometimes it’s humiliating and sometimes it’s exhilarating.’’
When producing partner Mark Johnson (Breaking Bad) gave Baker the novel to read in 2015 he was immediately smitten and secretly harboured dreams to direct a film adaptation. Baker has directed several episodes of his television shows, including The Mentalist, over the years.
“We started meeting with a few different directors and started developing the script and at one point Mark turned around and literally said ‘has it occurred to you, that you should direct this film’ and I said ‘Yes’,’’ Baker says.
He did have doubts and he worried about time constraints, but then his seven-year contract on The Mentalist ended.
He has devoted several years to bringing the film to the screen including extensive scouting of the Western Australia coast, where the novel is set, and finding the perfect locations on the southern coastline at Denmark and Ocean Beach.
Baker enlisted “colourful’’ Brisbane-based screenwriter Gerard Lee (Top of the Lake) to help with the film script.
“I knew I had to reduce it down to certain key thematic moments and hone in on those and the story, I had to let go of the book in a lot of ways,’’ he says.
Tasmanian-born Baker sees some similarities with his own childhood, growing up in Lennox Heads, on the northern NSW coast, and spending plenty of time at the beach with his surfing buddies. The former Ballina High School student admits he was more like the reserved and restrained Pikelet than the confident and thrillseeking Loonie or Sando.
“I grew up riding around with a pushbike with my mates, discovering the ocean and surfing,’’ Baker says. “There are a lot of parallels there with the book but there are obvious parallels with a lot of people who grew up in Australia.’’
Roxburgh agrees: “Tim Winton can really write about water, especially about the nature of water: what it is; what it does for us; and what it is to be with it; and to live with such a passion for it.’’
It was while growing up that Baker first developed a love for going to the movies.
“As a kid I would go to see a movie and I would be instantly transported by the story and characters. You go, ‘oh wow, I would like to do that one day’,’’ he says.
The 1957 American classic Old Yeller, about a young boy and his ill-fated dog, profoundly affected him as a Year 3 student.
“It’s funny because I watched Old Yeller with my kids 10 years ago and they were saying ‘why are you making us watch this?’,’’ he says. “It’s so heartbreaking and powerful. I can track back the emotional impact that cinema has had on me over the years to that point.
“I still get so excited about going to the movies, getting a choc-top, sitting in that dark room and letting a film take me away.’’
Baker grew up as Simon Denny – the name of his stepfather – but changed it to Simon Denny Baker after reuniting with his birth father as an adult. He later dropped the Denny part.
In 1993 he won the Logie for most popular new talent and then appeared in Home and Away (as James Hudson: 1993-1994) and Heartbreak High (as Tom Summers: 1996).
Baker and Rigg – who married in 1998 after five years of living together – decided to try their luck in the US, which became their base for 18 years.
Soon after arriving, he landed a role as troubled gay actor Matt Reynolds in the Oscar-winning LA Confidential (1998) and a couple of years later snared the key role of lawyer Nick Fallin in the television series The Guardian (2001-2004).
But it was his role as the cheeky and sharp-minded former conman Patrick Jane on The Mentalist (2008-15) which saw an astronomic popularity rise, especially among women. It was rumoured he signed a contract that delivered a payment of $US30 million for his role as Jane. Some 17 million watched the final episode of The Mentalist in the US alone.
His rising profile also led to contracts promoting prestigious French perfume house Givenchy as well as Longines watches.
“I take my hat off to Simon, and others, who have moved to America and have achieved over there,’’ Roxburgh says.
For Baker, his focus is not on the past but on the future, and that continues to look bright with the actor recently optioning Winton’s latest novel The Shepherd’s Hut.
“You should read it,’’ suggests Baker, flashing that trademark winning smile once more.
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4thingsyoucanfeel · 3 years
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thanks for tagging me cutie @sapphicinephile
what’s your name? not your given or chosen name, your REAL name:
lula
what were you born as?
a mistake!
design your own coffin:
i want my future spooky goth wife to have me stuffed and mounted to my favorite chair in our gothic living room, so that when she brings new suitors to visit they have to look me dead in the eye.
describe your current mood using an acrostic poem of your shadow name:
love
under
lost
art
what fandoms are you part of, and why is it so humiliating?
i’m unironically in the oscar wilde fandom, i love that funky dead dude so much. but in all honesty the only fandom i ever felt embarassed to be in was taylor swift’s music, but that was just the internalized misogony.
use this space to scream your little heart out about whatever is frustrating you right now, no context needed: 
i hate covering up how mentally ill i am for other people’s comfort. i cant count the times someone’s told me they want to support my mental health, but the minute it’s a bigger issue than “i’m just sad sometimes” they bounce. like sorry my brain doesn’t function correctly, but it’s not my job to pretend it does so that you can feel like a good friend. ahahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck.
what/who is the reason for you trust issues?
my dad, my mom, the people who have sexually assaulted me, every man i’ve ever met, myself, this list could go on for fucking forever....
ramble about something you’re passionate about, take your time baby, we’re listening:
FOUND FAMILY!!! 
the concept that we as a species can form such deep bonds with people is!!! and the power that comes with realizing you get to choose who you let into your life, and that you get to CHOOSE who you can LOVE!!!!!
what’s your marvel hot take?
pepper potts pegs tony stark 110%
i’m tagging:  @whore-for-charlynch @sleepymoron @lilyyalicee and whoever else wants to do it <3
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I did this... It's an embarrasing number5xreader
Title: That's bullshit in any Language.
(I don't mean to be rude. It's a line Five says to the handler. Ill put un this post part 1 and 2.)
So. This is Five living his life with the Sparrow Academy, and you are an editor that wants to publish his story. It's a few years After you came back to 2019... And it might have some of my ideas on time travel and the comission. Nothing canon or comic canon because i haven't had time to read it yet. Sorry for the grammar.
Chapter 1:
There are plenty of your reasons that I don't understand. Why did you come back? Was it really because of your family or was saving the world that matters? Did you came back just to help them? or because you love them?.-
Those words hit the brain of your interlocutor like a gold lingot adorned with a lemon peel. Effect only achieved by the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, which was very far from this part of the universe.
-What do you mean by that?-. He replied annoyed, you were sitting next to a window, in front of you there was a young adult. You were wearing a white blouse and ankle-length skirt. -Well, if you have powers that go beyond reason, and you are capable of leasing with the physical laws that bind everyone else, shouldn't you understand that these are simply events that had to happen in a certain order so that your brothers and everyone else should simply disappear? .-
-What?- He said sissing, with a very pissed off look. You had spent the afternoon listening to his fantastic story. As an assistant to the chef editor at a science fiction publishing house, you thought the young man was trying to sell you his story. Mostly because of the effort he made to make it seem real, he probably wanted to give it a transmedia approach. You thought that perhaps it could work, uploading an internet page, a video game for smartphones and several Facebook pages would sell well too, you saw the future and it was probably easily adapted to the cinema or to a series, you even thought about the fanfiction. If you hadn't detected so many narrative problems… Which on the other hand gave realism to these misfits.
The expression on Five, the pseudonym under which he introduced himself, made it clear that he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But that's how new artists are, they live in their stories, their delirium. And it's understandable. You began talking again. -What Mr. Reginald told Diego, seems to me, it's true for everyone. But at least he's honest about it. In all their actions, these guys are all marked by their father, it’s really their main drive to act.-
You felt a slight guilt, someone so fanatical about their own creation had to put a lot of himself into it, so probably Diego, Klaus, Vanya and all of the others were just a human personification of a hurt part of his adolescence. -Excuse me for telling you this but even with fifty-something years you went to your father for advice. A man who was not older than you in his timeline. Even in the middle of all that conspiracy. You chose to believe in him. -
The young man seemed somewhat nervous, he was sweating a bit and his eyebrows were narrowing in a strange way. -Are you from the association?- he said sweating - Is this a new kind of psychological attack?-. These clarifications gave you a bad feeling, but you decided to joke: -Do you see me with a briefcase?-. It didn't seem to work as you liked. His face showed a terrible aversion and you felt fear. You took your things and left enough money to pay for your coffees, on the table.
-I think it is an excellent work of fiction, Mr. Five. But I think you should solve your problems and calm down a bit before you want to publish it. I don't know what had happened to you to come up with all this but it seems to me that with a good medication and a correct edition you could go far. You are still young and you could even have a great future as an author. But I can't work with someone in your current state.- You took your card out of the bag and gave it to him somewhat shakily. His face changed from rage to disbelief and you left a bit angry and scared.
He scrutinized the white card, it was made with a fancy paper. It had “Dark Horse Books" printed in black. -In my dimension these are "comics" instead of books - he smiled. He hit his head on the table "> your last name <,> your first name <",> phone number <,> office address <.
He realizedrealizado were just a smart girl. -She's probably right. Maybe in all this time I have just lived as a scared child under the table of a man who is not even my father, but the one from Sparrow Academy. After all, even the idiot Luther decided to make his life of his own in this world ...-.
Five called Diego. -Hello brother, another Apocalypse? - Five heard a tone that wanted to be playful but actually sounded concerned. -None, I just want to chat. Are you available for dinner? .-. Five had started college not long ago. Mr. Hargreeves had gotten the adoption papers of Five just as he would have been one of the boys he previously adopted. So everyone was amazed when that young man who looked about 20 "was actually 34".
When you were at home doing office work, you were surprised to know that your appointment for that day had been canceled and that you had stayed all afternoon listening to a poor schizophrenic or drug addict speak.
Chapter 2:
The uneasiness of the meeting with the boy passed and a few weeks later you had time in your schedule for a new interview with the young man who was supposed to arrive on that occasion. You have had coffee and the middle-aged man left.
Nothing out of the ordinary. More stories about zombies and society, it would be edited because it was an acquaintance of the manager. You were beginning to rethink working with that strange young man and his story. You remembered that sometime in your teens you heard about some babies that were born a without their mothers having been pregnant. And a kind of low-profile superhero league that most people took as a hoax to divert attention from things like Watergate, the White House affair among other things.
Probably if the boy was right you were looking at an excellent informant. And it could be an amazingly revealing book ... Especially with all the mythology surrounding JFK. You turned to the window and the young man was watching you from the other block. That again, gave you the chills. You saw him cross the street. It was fortunate that your cup did not have more than the sip you took or you would have spilled it all over yourself.
The young man sat in front of you, the husband of the owner of the cafeteria asked the young man what he wanted. The boy looked stunned. "HAZEL?" The man looked at him for a moment, because that was his ñame but the man was no acquaintance of him. "Excuse me young man, I don't remember meeting you." The boy laughed. -Don't worry, you reminded me of a friend, but it can't be you. It's good to see you anyways.- The man served their coffee somewhat puzzled and walked to talk to his wife, the woman turned her head the table and denied knowing him. Ultimately, neither of them knew who the young man was. This definitely raised several questions but you didn't know which ones. Mostly mportant, what would the young man talk about now?.
You were silent for a while. Five had his hands in his pockets. And you kept looking at the street. You saw how the steam from the coffee made waves above the cup. Again you wear a shirt and skirt. This time a white one with polka dots. Nothing that you could know of but the boy had been a bundle of confusion the last few days. He was not very enthusiast about human company, but he decided to separate from all his previous life experiences and for this he began studying economics. So meeting you at that moment in those clothes made him really dubious about why he was talking to you. Was he really addicted to the apocalypse as you and Diego said?.
Tired of the silence, you asked him a question that seemed uncomfortable for both of you. -The previous time, you only told me your nickname, Mr. Hmmm.- The man looked at you with surprise and smiled at you. -Francis... Reginald, Hargreeves.- you raised your eyebrows. Behind all that delirium, the young man did not look like a Reginald, although on a second thought he dressed like an upper-class young man. He was probably one of those rich young men whose excessive education, gets them a little upset with the world before they should be done with it. -You can call me Frank ... or Five. My siblings, they usually call me Five. So as not to be confused with my father. - The young man seemed somewhat annoyed.
-Oh, it's okay Frank. -, -What do you think of the proposal? . Despite the trust that the young man had placed in you, there was something that prevented you from treating him as a young man of his age. He obviously was not over 23. You didn't know if it was his story, where he is over 60 years old, if it was perhaps his possible mental illness or the aura of presumption that accompanied him.
-Ohhh. I discussed some of that with some of my siblings. They do not agree.- You imagined him sitting at an empty table like the last supper. Except he was just talking to himself. -I see you still don't believe me.-, the young man took out his phone and showed you a picture of him with his family. You could see a huge man, a condecorated policeman, a renowned violinist, an underground model who had worked for several covers with your publishing house, an actress who had just won an Oscar and the little brother. Now that you saw him next to all his family, his story was starting to make a little more sense. Besides, they were all obviously different. Now you thought that the young man could not be more than 21 ... And that it must be difficult to be good by the side of those successful siblings.
The young man seemed to guess your thoughts or maybe it was the pious look you gave him. -Whatever you are thinking, is not the case. I just study for fun. I actually work in a government agency. And believe it or not, for a couple of years I have been in therapy for the post traumatic stress that living so many years alone caused me. Stranded at the end of the world Dolores!-. The young man clapped his mouth quickly, that seemed to hurt. He turned completely red. You didn't know if it was because of the hit or if he had said something embarrassing. While he was telling you his story, his subconscious was quite careful to hide all the details from you about his wife, named Dolores.
And that was. Curiously, the point that he had discussed earlier days with his psychologist, apparently he had not understood (or had not wanted to understand) that the talk he had with you reminded him of his Wife. Only this time, it was really a person outside of himself who answered him with such sharpness and intelligence. And he wasn't going to accept it.
Not knowing all that internal debate, you took another sip of the coffee. "My name is in case you are interested." You said upset. He lowered his hands from his face, it was completely red. -Yes, I know , I just remembered someone while talking to you. - There was no going back after that statement. "Thank you for taking an interest in my story and for listening to a complete stranger say nonsensical things." He now seemed like a completely different person. This boy's range of emotions is a carnival.
-Don't worry, it's part of my job. To tell the truth, I confused you with a young writer and I was quite tough because he is a recommended person to whom we must publish.-. You smiled at him. Apparently the young man liked your comment. -Wow, I must be flattered then.-, -Pretty much actually. We are a very famous publisher present all over the world.-, -And timelines ... it's a joke.-. The young man said when he saw your expression. -For such and such a reason. I look very young. But I think there is something that is not clear to you ... I am also 34. I am not really a young person.- Five had decided to start living according to the age of his brothers. Since he had that opportunity.
You had a pleasant talk, and exchanged phones with the young man. Since the one he had was your work phone number. Probably something good had come out of this confusion. It had gotten quite late, and you had to be on the other side of the city. To finish a part of the work you needed to get up early the next day, a taxi would cost you a lot. The young man saw your concern. -I can take you home, if you want,-. He said with a mischievous smile. You didn't know what he was planning. But you accepted, and walked with him to a parking lot, while you were walking, he asked your address and places near your house, -Oh! I understand, near <>> and that <<< >>>, of course I do know what building you are talking about.- He said while rubbing his chin and doing some imaginary calculations in the air. Being quite far from people, he asked you to take him tightly by the arm. You took it and suddenly you felt something pull you back. You closed your eyes. Next, you were in front of your building.
"What had just happened?" You saw him up, he was a little taller than you and he had a mocking laugh. -I'm sorry that teleportation is not a gift that everyone has. But at least you already tried, right? -. You felt how your intestines took their place again and you got a bit nauseous. You ran to some nearby bushes but you were lucky that you weren't as sick as you thought. You wiped yourself with your sleeve. And you thanked him a bit puzzled. You saw him inquisitively. You had so many questions, but none seemed prudent to be the first. He laughed. He actually seemed like he was quite nice and smart when he wasn't an arrogant know-it-all. If all the things he said to you were true, then he probably did know a lot more than your average citizen.
He accompanied you to your door, said goodbye to you with a kiss on the cheek. He disappeared in front of you with a beam of blue light. Now you had an existential crisis knowing that the world had already ended twice in a past and a future that were actually the past of the present that you lived. And that was nothing at all digestible. After seven years working without missing a single day due to illness, you decided to take a week of unforeseen rest.
I had this posted here too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520721/chapters/64640455#workskin
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