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madelynraemunson · 5 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 015: Eddie, Do You Copy?

Learning about, understanding, and loving all parts of Eddie.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 5.8k words

disclaimers — fluff, grief, flight of icarus easter eggs bc of eddie’s mom, ANGST, talks of childhood abuse/negligence/foster care, implied domestic violence, homicide, cancer, mentions of suicide, mentions of underaged drinking/drug use if you squint, lil modern-nostaglia moment btwn eddie and the boys (as a treat ✨), erica and wayne cameo yayyy

author's note: eddie is so boyfriend in this chapter 🫠 happy holidays, you filthy animals ♥️

“I put the record on, wait till I hear our song. Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.”

♡

Your eyes accommodate the first beacon of light as thirst creeps its way into your system.

6:38 AM.

Quietly chucking the covers off, you find yourself hobbling over Eddie in attempts to get to the kitchen. You can only hope that it doesn’t wake him.

Eddie responds with a low grumble. Followed by some mumbling and flailing. And then you watch as he shifts around, doing his best to return to the state of comfort he was in before his sleep was interrupted.

But if he’s anything like you — which you know for a fact he is — his cranky self is most likely awake by now and just pretending to be unconscious to avoid early morning conversation.

To put it to the test, you press a soft kiss onto Eddie’s forehead. He smiles.

You smile to yourself. Called it.

When you get to the kitchen, you seek out Eddie’s Garfield mug for your reservoir of choice. And as it fills with water, the bedroom adjacent from his captures your attention.

Steve’s door is open. A huge indicator that he’s still not home.

Judging by the energy levels of everyone last night, you assume it’s because they were still out partying. And for Steve’s sake, a part of you hopes it’s also because he went home with somebody.

Once you’ve got your water, you sneak back into Eddie’s room, using the newfound, natural light to really study it.

You would’ve thought it was an extension of Steve’s room, not Eddie’s. Everything’s a posh navy blue, something Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in if he had been anywhere else.

But the corner of his room is more like him, decorated with vinyls and a Crosley just like your sister’s. There were records of his favorite metal bands: Sabbath and Maiden. Anthrax, Metallica, and Judas Priest. And the unsuspecting like Elvis, The Doors, and Pink Floyd. Even country — both old and new, Johnny Cash and Chris Young — followed by a wide selection of Chicago blues and bluegrass.

The rest of his personality could be found on the bulletin board sitting on his desk.

Hand soap, dryer sheets, FUCKING DO PAYROLL

Eddie’s to-do list. You let out a soft chuckle.

Familiar faces canvas the board. There’s photos of Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. A picture of him with his uncle — Young Eddie with his hair buzzed and Uncle Wayne’s a subtle gray, most likely Eddie’s doing.

There’s a photo of Steve and Eddie at a Colt’s game. Eddie and Dustin. And Eddie with Will at what looked to be a D&D convention of sorts.

But one photo catches your eye the most.

‘MOMMY & ME: LIZ + EDDIE , 1994’

His mom’s name was Liz. You graze the picture of Liz holding a baby Eddie in her arms. On her face was a dimpled smile like no other, the love-filled look in her eyes having been shielded by her thick wavy brown hair.

But you didn’t need to see her eyes to know how much she loved Eddie. You see it in how she’s holding him, gently pressed to her chest while she supports his neck, his beady brown eyes staring at her with the same amount of adoration.

It all reminds you of Mom. You’re almost certain there’s a picture of you two like that, but it’s back home with Billy… evidently a forbidden turf to trek.

At least there’s still the memory of it. But like the bond with your twin, it’s also growing to be distant.

Your eyes and tears trickle down to another picture of her on Eddie’s bulletin board.

It’s of Toddler Eddie now with Liz in what looks like a kitchen. He’s standing on her feet and, judging by the motion of the picture, is dancing along to a song that was probably playing on the stereo. Behind the two of them sat piles and piles of CDs, all of which were all of the blues.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

Eddie is behind you now. He smiles at you with a dreamy gaze, beaming at the mere fact that the two women who made him happiest could be visually processed in the same frame.

You gulp.

“Really, really pretty,” you insist. “You have her smile. A-and her hair.”

"Yeah, I look a lot like her," Eddie chuckles with a hint of pride. He grazes the photos of her in the same way you did. "She’s influenced me a lot growing up. Bet that's why my sperm donor can't stand me."

You carefully dissect his choice of words. There’s a lot of resent for Alan Munson on Eddie’s part. You don’t blame him, if what Billy discovered had been true. It’s the same reason you and him resent Dad.

Eddie fixates on the expression on your face. He knows why this is so moving for you.

“It never gets easier, does it?” he questions, hinting at your own ongoing struggle with grief.

You cross your arms and shake your head. Softly you mutter, “Never.”

You feel stupid. Eddie’s doing his best to navigate his own baggage, yet you still found a way to make it about yourself.

He pulls you close and wraps his arms tenderly around your waist. Eddie doesn’t have to say it to reassure you that your burdens are safe in his presence. You can just feel it. Two traumatized individuals understand each other in a way others can’t.

“Time just keeps going,” you speak again. “Everyone moves on and you’re kinda just…stuck in place.”

“World just keeps going. Grief doesn’t care about your plans when it blindsides you, taking you for everything you’ve got.”

You swallow hard as Eddie’s words sink into you.

Tragedy just feels so non-consensual. No one ever asks for it to happen.

You and Billy can’t even go surfing without thinking about Mom. Whenever you try you both always end up fighting. That’s why Max tends to go alone or with her own friends.

“I have to stay away from a whole genre of music because I’ll burst into tears,” you scoff in agony. “Billy and I can’t even listen to Iration without thinking of our mom.”

“Can’t listen to Muddy Waters without thinking of mine.”

You and Eddie sway in place to the tandem of your beating hearts. It’s a breath of fresh air knowing you have each other now.

After a while, he ruffles your hair and spins you around so that you can face him.

"But enough about that," Eddie attempts a smile. He rubs your shoulders and you hum in awe. "This is supposed to be a happy time."

"Happiness and despair can coexist," you sniff. “Duality, remember?”

Eddie smiles. It's a you're right kind of smile. "I was yesterday years old when I learned that."

He kisses your forehead and soon you two are in the shower, rinsing up and mentally preparing for the long day of errands ahead.

You’re the first to hop out and get dressed, eager to devour a bowl of oatmeal before tackling the day.

"Hey… babe?" Eddie calls out to you from his closet.

The pet name almost sounds too natural rolling off his tongue. But then again he is the owner of a strip club, and was married for a few years before meeting you.

“Yeah?” you call back, heart skipping a beat.

“Can you make me a coffee while you’re out there?” he requests. “The usual black drip coffee with some hazelnut? Please and thank you.”

“Of course, hun.”

You can get used to this.

So you make your way back out into the living room and kitchen shortly after, practically skipping. But the person you see in the kitchen — with tired eyes and a bowl of his own oatmeal in hand — stops you in your tracks.

"Morning, Hargrove," Steve responds.

You're so dumb. You've gotta start realizing that when you sleep with one of them, the other may pop in at any minute. After all, it’s their townhouse.

As frozen in place as you are, you do your best to shoot Steve a shy little wave. Again, the look on his face indecipherable.

"Morning..." you pathetically respond.

Steve eventually grants you a wave back. He pokes around at his oatmeal while you make your way over to the fridge, your cheeks flushing a timid red as you do so.

You move in a way that seems like you were way too conscious of your actions. Even Steve notices. But he keeps trying to eat, his spoon clinking against his bowl as he intermittently clears his throat, all an attempt to fill the void of silence.

"Did you have a fun night?" you question. "You know... bar-hopping."

"Yeah, I did," he replies. "Argyle had to get cut off cuz he was being real extra with it."

"Oh geez."

"I know."

“How was Max?”

“She was fine,” Steve shrugs. “The bars use the same 21+ wristbands Hellfire does so we were able to sneak her in no problem. Chrissy made sure she got home safe. The girls were just stoked they finally got to have a carefree night.”

“That’s so good,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m so happy for them.”

“Yeah,” he nods in agreement. “I’m really happy for them too. Seems like they needed it.”

Finally, your friend decides to address the elephant in the room.

"We uhh..." he begins. "We should probably end what we have going on here. Just so no one gets hurt."

“I think that’s a smart idea too,” you mumble as you nod.

You make your way over to Steve, stunned that he doesn’t shy away from you when you invade his personal space. Instead he leans into you, opening up his lap so you can maneuver between his legs.

You know, like how friends usually talk.

“It was fun while it lasted…”

"I know. I just feel so bad..." you choke, rubbing his arm softly. "I’ve wasted your time."

"I wouldn't say that," Steve refuses, shaking his head rapidly. He touches you back, running his hand across your arm. "I've thoroughly enjoyed your company."

Eventually his hand intertwines with yours.

There’s a heaviness in the room and something tells you that Eddie is near, looming at the foot of his room so that your business with Steve remains uninterrupted. He knows there’s some dust that still needs to settle. And he will linger until it does.

"You helped me get out of a really dark place," Steve admits. "And Eds too, I'm sure."

You look back towards Eddie's room.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall for him,” you say. “It just…happened. The connection, i-it’s...”

“I know…” Steve soothes you. “Been pickin’ up on that for a while. If you think I’m blaming you, I’m not.”

Steve urges you to meet his gaze again. And when a teardrop falls from your eye, he uses his thumb to wipe it away. Tells you to stop, before he too starts crying.

"This is... a huge step for him," Steve manages a grin. “I don’t think you realize, Shy Girl.”

"Yeah, I bet," you nod. "After Isabelle..."

"Yeah, Isabelle and everything else that dude's got going on," he confirms. "This is really good for Eddie. I can tell. It’s why I think it’s best that we part ways.”

Steve eventually does cry too, but it’s a rather suppressed one. The both of you take turns wiping each other’s tears, embracing the presence of each other for just a short while longer before needing to distance yourselves indefinitely.

You’re never going to forget Steve Harrington. His charm. His integrity. His everlasting devotion to the ones he loves most, and how he’d — time and time again — go to the ends of the earth for them. A noble soul in the highest regard. A true king.

“Thank you for being so kind,” you say to him. “You made my first week in Indiana a lot less intimidating. I hope you’ll still be around.”

“Of course I’ll still be around,” Steve chuckles. “Look at our friend group. Look at where I live.”

You share a laugh with him again.

“Ain’t no getting rid of me that easy, Hargrove.”

“I can sure try though, right?”

“Now why would you do that?” he banters sarcastically, chuckling into you.

He kisses your cheek softly one last time. Finally, Eddie’s door swings open, prompting you and Steve to asunder from one another.

“RISE AND FUCKING SHINE!” Eddie announces his entrance. “Both my soul and thine.”

You get out of Eddie’s way so he can go over and hug Steve good morning. Eddie then breaks the hug with a peck on the cheek and rough slap to Steve’s ass. Steve winces but you can tell he enjoys it.

“Mwah!” Eddie cheers. “Love you, babyboy. What you got going on today?”

“Oh, just gonna work on the online biz for a bit,” Steve mumbles as he ushers his hands through some paper. “Then ’m gonna start recruiting peeps for my other new job.”

“I forgot you dropship now,” Eddie says. “How’s that going?”

“Really fucking good,” Steve smiles. “I shouldn’t count on it too much though. It’s why I also have Newby’s. Speaking of which…”

Steve hands you a flyer. You take it from his hands.

NEWBY’S COFFEE ROASTERS: Even Superheroes Need Coffee!

Steve explains to you that a new coffee shop is taking over Family Video’s old suite. The owner grows his own coffee beans and all syrups are organically made from Hawkins locals. And since they’re a Mom and Pop shop, they were really going to need some help.

“If Maxine is still looking for a job, she’s more than welcome to apply,” Steve says. “We’re gonna need baristas. And we’ll be coworkers so whenever she’s on, I can drive her to work.”

“That sounds like an awesome gig for her!” Eddie pitches in. “Free coffee for employees too, I’m guessing.”

Steve nods at Eddie’s remark.

“That’d be amazing,” you blush. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” Eddie parrots you. You elbow him playfully.

“Yeah, anything for you guys. I’ll put in a good word for her to Bob. He’s the owner. Great guy.”

“And what about this owner, huh?” Eddie chimes in. “Hope you can pull some strings and snag me some of those magic beans as well. I’m gonna need it. I also don’t mind paying full price cuz it’s goin’ to Newbs.”

“T’yeah with your job? You can have all the beans you want.”

“Mm, speaking of which,” Eddie scoffs as he stares at the time on his Apple Watch. “It’s almost time.”

Steve imitates Eddie’s gesture. Your eyes dart between the two of them, confused about the context of the whole ordeal.

“What are you guys-” you begin.

“Ah, buh-buh!” Steve stops you. “Wait for it…”

You look at the time on your phone to feel some sort of involvement as well.

7:59 —> 8:00

Eddie’s phone rings.

"An everyday thing," Steve tsks, shaking his head, resuming his breakfast as he does so.

"First problem of the day," Eddie looks at you. "It’s always something with Hellfire. From the moment the day begins...Yello?"

It’s Lucas. Sinclair never really calls unless it’s a dire situation, so you listen closely, doing your best to make out what he’s saying on the other line.

"I can't come in tonight,” is what it sounds like.

"Uh, why the fuck not?" your man demands. He places a sassy hand on his hip. "We need you for front of the house."

"Erica's sick and my car is in the shop."

"I'll pay for your Uber, you're coming in."

"I think it's covid. I don't wanna spread it to anyone if l've been exposed."

"It's not fucking covid, you guys have been jabbed more times than I can count for school."

The two continue to bicker back and forth like they’re brothers. Steve excuses himself from the narrative, going over to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes.

You watch Eddie as he lights up a pre-roll, taking a frustrated drag from it while he listens to Lucas’s, probably bullshit, excuse.

Eventually there’s a scuffle on the other line. Something something, “GIMME THE DAMN PHONE” followed by a “NO” followed by a “PHONE. NOW”. Eddie’s drags from his blunt grow increasingly slower.

Then another person speaks. The voice belongs to a girl. She sounds slightly younger than Lucas. And she sounds sick. And angry.

"Listen here, Ed-NERD Alan Munson," the girl hisses sassily. " I KNOW I did not just hear you tell my brother that he is coming in even when HE TOLD YOU why he can't. It's giving desperate. It's giving exploitation of your employees. If you want my brother to come in for a half shift at your stupid gentlemen's club then you best pull up to our residence, YOURSELF, with them spicy chicken wings level Creeping. Death. My tongue? It needs to be on FIRE. My eyes? They need to be burning from the temperature and sauce. My sinuses? BOYYY, you better be-LIEVE they oughta be SO CLEAR, I could cough up a loogie, SPIT IT OUT THE WINDOW, and have it smack you RIGHT UPSIDE THE HEAD SO HARD you won’t even THINK about forcing my brother to do something he isn’t comfortable doing again. Keep trying me, motherfucker. THE FUCK WRONG WITCHU."

Steve is flabbergasted. Eddie's mouth is wide open. You would’ve thought Lucas’s sister was on speakerphone but she wasn’t.

You're scared of Erica Sinclair. And so is Eddie, the way his eyes widen at her spiel. If Lucas's sister ever got into a heated argument with Billy, Billy would go home crying.

“And some sweet potato fries," she adds softly. "Please. Do we have a deal?"

"At your service," Eddie deals her a salute through the phone, even though she can't see it. "Anything Applejack wants, she gets. I'll be over after my Meijer run."

"As you should, sir."

Eddie turns to you after he hangs up the phone. "Don't ever own a business."

——————— 🛒—————

“WE GROW UP AND MOVE AWAY... The seasons pass, but the monsters stay.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Hellfire is Eddie’s baby. The man lives and breathes that strip club.

As much as you’ve already harbored that suspicion, you didn’t realize his work-life balance was practically non-existent. Running errands. Frequent call-outs. Always having to prepare for the unexpected. But that’s the price one pays for owning a business. It also only seems to get harder and harder when you’re a handsome business man like Eddie, someone with the drawing power like that of a 13,000 gauss magnet.

“Mike to Munson, do you copy?”

You and Eddie have hit the road now, ready to start your errands run before your shift begins. As Eddie drives, he has you hold his phone up for him while he speaks to the boys in their group FaceTime call.

“Copy,” Eddie responds. “Thank you for covering ground, dear Paladin. It is because of you we are no longer… short staffed.”

God, they’re such dorks. You’d cringe if Eddie didn’t have the sex appeal of a Roman god.

“It’s the least I can do,” Mike insists. “Taking inventory as we speak. We need more ground chili and pop cans. Cola and Fanta, please. When you go to Meijer.”

“Done deal,” Eds nods. “Who’s doing side quests?”

“Me!” Will chimes in. “Doing silverware, stainless steel, and just helping Jonathan open up the bar.”

“Thank you, Byers-squared.”

“And I’ll sweep and do windows,” Dustin adds. “We’ll figure out the front house situation as it unfolds. Gonna be a little late. Getting gas.”

Eddie places a firm palm over your hand. He smiles at you when you look over.

“Running errands with Shy Girl, we’ll see you soon.”

“Pulling in now. Over.”

“Us too. Over.”

“Over and out, boys.”

————- 🚐———-

After your Meijer run, you and Eddie stop by CVS for Wayne’s medications and the ‘morning after’ pill. And shortly after that, you two haul ass to the other side of town to scoop up Nina.

Eddie gives the young dancer a ride to work almost every day. He also smokes her out before the shift, evident by her waltzing in stoned out of her mind all the time. It brings you peace knowing the whole story now, and that there truly is nothing more to it than that.

“Your boyfriend really needs a new car,” Eddie huffs to Nina as she climbs into the backseat. “Been telling him that shit’s on it’s last good tire.”

Figuratively and literally. The 90s Buick that you caught sight of shortly before Nina shuffled in can only be described as a lost cause. Nina knows it too, the way she scowls at the thing.

She tsks as she clicks her seatbelt in place.

“Duh, Eds. What do you think I’m saving up for?”

Eddie holds up an eighth.

“I can think of a few things,” he chuckles. “I take it you’re a fan of all things eco mode.”

“Hey, it’s 2022, of course we’re going green.”

Eddie grins. “I like how you think, sweetheart.”

Nina looks over to see who’s in the front seat. Her eyes glimmer when she realizes it’s you.

“Oh, hey Shy Girl!” she cheers.

You smile at her contently. Securely.

“Hey, Neens.”

Eddie starts up his van once again.

“Alright everyone,” he says as he shifts gears. “Hold onto something. We’re on a tight schedule so expect some Eddie Stops.”

“Not this again,” Nina mutters.

“Oh boy…” you add.

SKRRRT!

———— 🏠 ————

After dropping both Nina and the groceries off at Hellfire, you and Eddie set out to Forest Hills Trailer Park to visit his infamous Uncle Wayne.

“Wayne’s the man,” Eddie boasts as he drives on. “Taught me how to fish. Somehow taught me how to drive. Automatic and stick.”

He laughs at that one.

“Even took me out of the foster care system when I was 16. I lived in his old room for years while he took the pull-out couch in the living room.”

“Foster care?” you echo as he nods. “He was tired of you jumping from home to home?”

“Nah, I just kept running away,” Eddie cackles. “If a kid was ever in the police station for something, nine times out of 10 it was probably me. I was stressing way too many people out, Uncs probably felt bad for them.”

“But he also loves you, I bet,” you grin. “You’re his nephew, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles too. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Eddie pulls into an empty dirt road just yards from the estate. You two climb out of the van together, slamming the doors in unison.

Eddie leads you up the stairs by the hand, then uses his other one to wave at old neighbors close by.

“Hey y’all! How ya doin’?” he exclaims. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you. “Those are the Johnsons. Their sons were frequent customers of mine in high school.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Eddie waves to another pair of neighbors.

“And those are the Jacobsons. I bought their sons alcohol their senior year for homecoming. Buncha lightweights though. Wouldn’t recommend.”

“Well aren’t you a hero,” you jest.

“Hey, someone’s gotta pay the bills,” Eddie shrugs, half-jokingly. “You would think 40 years at The Plant gave you a decent insurance plan but that wasn’t the case. Had to help Wayne out for a fat minute. Still do every now and then.”

Eddie shifts closer to the door and gives it a couple knocks. He leans his head towards the doorframe, placing his lips just inches away from the chipped, painted wood.

“Wayne Munson,” Eddie bellows in his playful, deep voice. “It’s your friendly neighborhood pharmacist here. I’ve come with your percs, your piss pill, and your Motrin.”

Percocet and Motrin.

Two very strong pain killers. Hearing those names send chills down your spine. Those are the same meds Mom overdosed on when Billy found her.

But given Wayne’s circumstances, it’s not too much of a concern. According to what Eddie has told you, his uncle had just retired and is very frail. Heavy machinery and long hours can do that to someone. Just constant, chronic pain.

The door swings open and you hear Eddie greet Wayne like a grateful man would greet his dad. “Hey, Old Man! How are you?”

“Hello, there my boy. Agh, watch it. ‘s hurtin’ again.”

It didn't seem like anyone was at the door when you look over. But that was because you were looking about two feet too high.

Your eyes travel to the level at which Eddie bends down and there you see Uncle Wayne, having wheeled himself to the door to greet Eddie with a warm hug.

Oh this goes deeper than you thought.

A nose cannula. Yellow grippy socks. The wheelchair that housed his thin, fragile body. The navy blue Pacers beanie that concealed the fact that the man had very little hair.

Wayne’s face was extremely chiseled in, deeming him malnourished and underweight. The bags under his eyes that drooped heavily against his sockets took up a good portion of his face — nearly half.

You look at the place behind him. His trailer had lots of rails installed, Ensure protein shakes for adequate nutrition, and the pull out couch was set up to look like a bedroom, with a collapsible dresser right beside it that was nearly lost in a sea of orange medicine bottles.

The realization nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Wayne is sick. He almost looks terminal.

It feels like the ground had opened up and swallowed you whole. Your knees feel wobbly like gelatin, but Eddie is too busy reuniting with his father figure to notice. When he turns back around, he pulls you into him, with the biggest smile on his face.

“There’s uh, someone I want you to meet,” Eddie says to Wayne, his cheeks now a deep shade of pink. “This is Shy Girl.”

“Shy Girl,” Wayne smiles the same bright smile that Eddie has. “So you’re the THEE Shy Girl that my Eddie’s been rambling to me about. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

You meet Wayne where he’s at, shaking his cold hand at eye level and giving him the warmest smile you can.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Munson.”

“Mr. Munson,” Wayne smirks cheekily. There’s a hint of who he used to be when he does that. He was most likely a firecracker just like Eddie, evident by how the two start poking at each other in a teasing manner. “Didn’t realize we were at a business meeting. In that case, we shall not waste any time. You and Eddie can come on in now, Miss Hargrove.”

Butterflies form in your stomach. You never told Wayne your last name.

And soon you’re in Wayne’s trailer, Eddie’s old home before he grew his wings and left the nest. A bittersweet energy floods the room. It only becomes more prominent when you see Eddie and Wayne holding hands as they make their way inside.

“Welcome to my office,” Wayne proceeds, carrying on with the banter. “I’ve got some tea in the cupboards, as well as some stale saltines because this one over here thinks I should watch my sodium intake. You’re more than welcome to help yourself.”

“Thank you so much,” is all you’re able to say.

“No worries, doll.”

Wayne darts his gaze back over to Eddie. “Anywho. Now that the formalities are over… son, I need to take a shit.”

The same dry humor too. You giggle and glance over at Eddie while he grimaces at Wayne in annoyance. But, since it’s not his first rodeo, he obliges, unlocking Wayne’s wheelchair to wheel him over to the commode that was concealed behind a DIY curtain.

“Did you do your exercises today?” you hear Eddie ask him.

"I tried. Got tired ‘bout halfway through.”

“What are your oxygen levels looking like?”

“Satting 88 percent without my oxygen. 93 percent on three liters.”

“That’s what we like to see. Good job, baby. I’m proud of you.”

You stand off to the side, giving Wayne as much privacy and dignity you can throughout this very intimate ordeal.

While Eddie is away with him, you keep yourself distracted with Wayne’s mug collection, as well as the array of trucker hats that decorated one of the four walls. You take a look at what’s on the TV: The Price is Right is just about to go on a commercial break. And on the coffee table rested an assortment of dated magazines, all going back to as early as 2008. Ah yes, recession core.

Within a few short moments, Eddie comes back out. You study him as he makes his way to the kitchen to wash his hands, making faces at the friendly neighborhood cats who liked to make themselves at home on the porch.

“Anyways!” Eddie exclaims. “I’m gonna start making Erica’s wings cuz we got everything here.”

He starts back over to you.

“But before I do, want me to show you my old room? It’s like a huge time capsule. Wayne hasn’t touched it since I left.”

You can barely meet his eyes. Eddie is acting way too normal about this. Or maybe you’re too dramatic.

He sees you frowning, thinking.

“…You okay?” he attempts with you.

"Eds... I didn't know," you whisper softly.

But Eddie smiles a bit. "That's okay. I initially didn't want you to know."

"How bad is it?"

"Stage 3. Lung cancer."

"How long has he had it?"

"Siiiince… March of 2020?” Eddie recalls. "We initially thought it was covid because of all the pulmonary stuff..."

He gestures around his own lungs.

"So what started out as a — rather intimate — nose swab turned into a biopsy that turned into getting a team of specialists….”

He glances over at Wayne to make sure he’s still okay.

“To having uncomfortable talks with the case worker about...exploring other options... And then to me being his full-time caregiver."

"March of 2020..." you recall. "Isn't that the same time you and Isabelle got divorced?"

"We were finalizing it..." Eddie corrects you. “But that’s neither here or there.”

“And Hellfire?”

“We were struggling for a bit not gonna lie,” Eddie chuckles. “It was during the start of covid and no one wanted to leave the house. Even when the babes were smoking hot.”

Holding up a palm, you stop him from explaining any further.

“So let me get this straight,” you state. “Your piece of shit dad UNALIVED your mom in cold blood when you were a kid, your father figure has cancer. You somehow manage to care for him full-time all while basically living at Hellfire, your business that your ex wife tried to SABOTAGE; which led to you getting arrested and released on bail up until your trial where you were then proven NOT GUILTY. But even then, your reputation still remains slightly tainted because almost everyone in Hawkins is a narrow-minded, self-righteous prick who weaponizes religion to get an upper hand? And they know you’re an easy target so that’s exactly what they did in this case, making your life and Wayne’s a living hell when it was the last thing you two needed at the time?”

“It be like that sometimes.”

Eddie flashes you a sarcastic, ‘I’m alive’ peace sign. He’s not helping.

Your heart just about shatters.

Eddie has suffered so much. But he hides it so well with his never-ending sarcasm and Munson magic.

And to think all of this — Hellfire, Wayne, and divorcing Isabelle — went down a couple years ago. He still had his childhood to sort through. If that's even plausible.

“It’s also kinda why Chrissy and I were screwing around,” Eddie adds, snapping you out of your thinking. “Apparently I was constantly depressed and she wanted to keep me distracted and all. Again, fun. But very short-lived.”

You fall into him and squeeze him tight. Eddie is almost taken aback by it. But nevertheless, he returns the favor.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you demand. "You have all of this going on and you're asking me if I'm alright?"

Oh, how lonely Eddie must’ve felt through all of this. You just want to hold him. Take away all of his pain.

It’s always the angels on earth who get sent to hell and back. Eddie deserves the world, and you’re going to go your best to give it to him.

"Are we alright?" you question him.

"Of course we're alright," Eddie insists, ruffling your hair like it’s the silliest thing you’ve ever asked him.

He pulls away from you. Rubs your back delicately as you soak in all of this new information.

“You sure you want to sign up for all of this?”

You are absolutely more than sure.

“Now why would you even ask that?” you choke. “You know my stubborn ass. I’m not backing down without a fight.”

“Yeaaah,” Eddie squints. “I guess you are pretty stubborn.”

You fall into one another again, kissing each other like it’s the air you need to breathe. Eddie delicately cups your face with his hands, relishing in the last couple of smooches before he pulls away.

“I like stubborn though.”

“You and me, Eddie.”

“You and me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls, innocently interrupting the moment. “I’m done, boy, now come help me get up.”

“Comin’!” Eddie cranes his neck, shouting in Wayne’s general direction. He kisses you one more time on the forehead before excusing himself. “Be right back, babe.”

You and Eddie leave for Hellfire shortly after spending a little bit more time with Wayne.

The entire ride there, you let Eddie talk about his memories with his uncle… how he’s attended homecoming rallies, talent shows, graduations, and the less-than-celebratory court hearings — loving Eddie unconditionally through thick and thin. He was there for Eddie’s senior prom, snapping photos of him with the boys and his date Ronnie, who was also his best friend at the time.

Wayne was also there for Eddie’s wedding, even though he didn’t particularly like Isabelle. Again, every milestone, Wayne was there for.

You fawn over Eddie as he continues to talk, the spark in his eyes never leaving for as long as it’s about his loved ones. You can only hope he talks to Wayne and the others about you in the same way.

You can’t believe this is real life.

From here on out, it’s going to be you and Eddie. And you’re going to be by his side no matter what, because he’s proven to you that he is committed to doing the same.

From here on out, it’s going to be Shy Girl and Eddie… and nothing… NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joe quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #Spotify

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nattikay · 1 year

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How did you get into the furry fandom? Favorite Na'vi phrases?

I guess that depends on how you define being in the fandom. My introduction to internet fandom culture in general was through Balto when I was around, hmmm, 9 or 10 I think? Which, naturally, the Balto fandom was very closely intertwined with the larger furry fandom. At the time I wasn't familiar with the term furry but I was familiar with the concept of fursonas and colorful animal OCs, which like many artsy online preteens I churned out like a factory lol. I've had a fursona since like 5th grade. In that sense, you could say I've been a furry in all but name for over half my life (I'm currently 26).

As far as being intentionally involved with the furry "community", that didn't happen until college, when I discovered a few fursuiters on YouTube and thought, wow, that looks like a heck ton of fun, I want in! I had already somewhat dabbled in cosplay and been to an anime con before, so as someone who'd also had a lifelong interest in animal cartoons, fursuiting and furcons seemed like a pretty natural step lol. So I looked into possibly conventions, found that there was one that would be happening just an hour or so away from my apartment not too long from then, poured myself into making my first fursuit, and went.

^me wearing NattiKay 1.0 at AWU 2017 :')

I wound up having a blast and have returned to that con every year since! And since 2017 was AWU's inaugural year that means I've been attending that particular con from its very beginning and have been able to watch it grow and get better and better year after year, which has been pretty darn cool. :) It's gone from ~600 attendees in 2017 (first picture) to nearly 1,500 in 2022 (second)!

^I am in both of these, have fun finding me haha ;)

...as for Na'vi phrases...I'm not sure if I really have any particular favorite? I do remember, when I first started learning, being rather tickled by eltu si. The meaning of this phrase is basically "pay attention/stop goofing off", but the literal translation is closer to something along the lines of "do brain!!"

Similarly, if you want to say that something is interesting you would use the phrase eltur tìtxen si "awakens the brain", which is kinda fun.

As long as we're talking about phrases using eltu: the Na'vi language obviously wouldn't have words for human technologies like vehicles and computers and such, but since it is used by human fans we naturally wanted ways to express such concepts with each other, so had to describe them by combining other words; a common one used in these combinations is lefngap metallic. For example:

eltu lefngap - computer (metallic brain) pa'li lefngap - car (metallic horse) ikran lefngap - airplane (metallic banshee)

Also, Na'vi in the context of the films is an exclusively spoken language; canonically the Na'vi people have no form of writing. The word we use for writing, therefore, is actually also a compound: pamrel, literally meaning "sound picture". Which is interesting! I mostly mention this one because I actually didn't even realize it was a compound until just recently lol

I am also mildly amused by the idiom keynven sìn ketse--literally "steps on tails"--to describe someone who's socially awkward :')

#probably a much longer post than u were expecting; sorry :')#furry #fursona #lì'fya leNa'vi

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mangamushi · 3 years

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Thoughts on Panorama of Hell

(HINO Hideshi, 1 volume, 1984)

(warning for spoilers and disturbing topics)

In Panorama from Hell, a painter obsessed with depicting hell takes the reader on a journey to discover his life. His work, his neighborhood, his family members and family history are presented to paint a bleak and violent picture of hell on earth.

Hideshi Hino is a very big name of horror manga. Panorama of Hell is one of Hino’s most famous and acclaimed manga, and represents in many ways the quintessence of his style. When he draw Panorama, he thought it would possibly be his last horror manga (he didnt actually stop after that, though).

It displays all his favorite themes and even blatantly recycles ideas from his previous works. It is therefore is a very good entry point for anyone interested in Hino’s stuff. One the other hand, it feels a bit redundant when you are already familiar with his work, especially if you have read Lullaby from Hell, as both manga are very similar.

As the title suggests, Panorama takes place in a hellish setting, described in great details by the main character. He is a painter who uses his own blood to paint, and the world he lives is horrible in many ways: from his window he sees an execution platform operating non-stop, a stream full off trash and corpses runs next to his house, he lives in the smell of burning bodies because of the next-door crematorium...

These first few chapters are so insistent on being as abhorrent as possible that I found it hard to take seriously. In the beginning it felt so exaggerated and lacking any subtlety that it almost felt a bit comical at times, like the author was just stacking awful things on more awful things for shock value.

“his daily routine”

And it keeps escalating from there. Next, his family is introduced: cruel children with a dark sense of curiosity, a beautiful wife who seems straight out of a classic japanese horror tale (pale skin and long black hair, wearing traditional clothes...), until we go back in time to witness the story of his grand-parents and parents.

It gradually becomes more interesting, especially the part about his family which shows deeply ingrained violence and insanity getting passed down from a generation to the next. It culminates when historical events (WWII and its aftermath, the atomic bombings) are shown, intertwining with the painter’s personal story.

Different kinds of hells complete each other (ambient with initial setting and scenery of desolation, a more personal hell with the intra-familial violence, and the wider-scale historical hell of war).

Overall, I find Hino less imaginative than fellow “horror masters” Junji ito and Kazuo Umezu. Those two can come up with the craziest ideas, whereas Hino’s scenarios and imagery are somewhat more expected/conventional for horror.

But perhaps the most interesting part of Panorama is the way it blurs the borders between reality and fiction. First of all, the main character, an artist who specializes in depicting horror, acts as a stand-in for Hino himself. This is fairly common in his work, his other manga Lullaby from hell even has an extremely similar character overtly present himself as Hino:

The artist from Panorama is making his last, best painting, just like Hino who was thinking of ending his mangaka career with his strongest work. Both the painting and the manga share the same title, “Panorama of Hell”.

The similarities between Hino and his main character don’t end here, and many elements of the story are actually taken from Hino’s own life: his grandfather really was a yakuza, his brother went into a coma, his father was pig farmer with a tattoo on his back...

Just like the painter, Hino grew up in the context of the direct aftermath of WWII. Both the character and the author were born in Japanese-occupied China, and were nearly killed when their family fled back to Mainland-Japan after the country’s loss. He takes inspiration from his own life and in the traumatizing things he witnessed and lived through to draw his manga. It is hard to discern what is fiction or not in the painter’s story. Many elements are obviously fantastical and folklore-ish, like the beheaded ghosts visiting the wife’s bar (this chapter feel like a tone-shift, it is much more whimsical, with the corpses happily eating their own body parts), yet the references to real historic events like the war and Hiroshima bombing still links Panorama of Hell to reality, to our world.

The painter’s insanity makes him an unreliable narrator. Indeed, at the end of the story, the current members of the painter’s family (his wife, his daughter and son, his brother...) are revealed to have been fake all along : the wife and children are a mannequin and puppets, the brother is a pig’s corpse...

Moreover, by having the painter address the reader directly (”let me show you...”) Hino breaks the fourth wall that should separate the world of fiction from reality.

This culminates at the very end of the book, where the painter throws an axe at the reader to kill them.

Hino’s art style is really simple and easily recognizable. The way he draws body horror and wounds isn’t very realistic, which makes the gore parts less shocking. His character’s simple, soft, deformed appearance reminds me of modeling clay or perhaps melting plastic toys.

I am even tempted to describe his style as cute. The big eyes, round features, and the way his characters are often miserable and mistreated by others...it is cute in a pitiful way.

Hino draws lots of babies, children, and baby animals which adds to both the cuteness and the horror. It also helps that I share Hino’s fondness for insects, worms and other similar crawling creatures...

There are figures based on his works that are just too cute!

Hino often puts animals in his stories and even merges animals and humans. He writes stories where people transform into animals (Bug Boy) or give birth to inhuman creatures ( Unusual Fetus -My Baby ). Human bodies are more often than not hosts to parasites and maggots (Mermaid in a manhole...).

In Panorama of Hell, humans are executed one after the other like livestock in a slaughterhouse, and their bodies get dumped in a stream where they mix with other dead animals. Beheaded bodies try to put animal heads on to feel complete again, and the painter’s daughter is obsessed with animal corpses that she collects and dissects.

He doesn’t use any screen tones, nor does he use a lot of crosshatching as a mean to create different shades of grey, so the jet black ink creates a stark contrast against the white of the paper. Some pages are beautiful and esthetically pleasing in spite of the repulsive contents. Especially towards the end of the book, which depict strange surrealist imagery as the world is falling apart.

His frequent use of pitch black silhouettes reminds me of shadow play theater (which originates from China where Hino was born), as well as of Kamishibai (street theater using paper, which was very popular in post-war Japan).

Kamishibai originates from buddhist temples and was often used to spread buddhist teachings.

Hino makes uses of buddhist concepts and imagery in his depiction of hell. Panorama of Hell could be compared to the Hell Scroll, a famous scroll describing the Chinese Buddhist conception of hell with text and pictures.

↑ The “Blood Lake” and “Needle Moutain” in this panel refers to two of the different kinds of hells depicted in the Hell Scroll. The blood lake is exclusively for women.

Young women are only thing that are drawn in a conventionaly beautiful way. However, finding beauty and fascination in the most horrendous things is a central point of Hino’s body of work. His characters are either artists or collectors obsessed with what fits their strange idea of beauty (cf. Flower of Flesh and Blood, where a woman’s dismemberment is an act of creation and a research of ideal beauty in the perpetrator’s eyes).

The contrast between the solid black shadows and the untouched white of the paper can give the impression that a strong, blinding light is hitting the world. The violent light emitted from an explosion, for example. Which is fitting, giving the importance of the Hiroshima atomic bomb in the story and its repercussions that still dawn on the characters years later. It’s like the characters are constantly bathed in the harsh light of the bombings.

The Hiroshima bomb is called a “gigantic emperor from hell”, it rules over the character’s lives, even years after it was dropped. As a child, the painters created a replica of the mushroom cloud that he worships like a god.

Panorama of Hell is a very dark and pessimistic work, displaying a world where there is no hope and nothing is spared (not even the reader, who receives the painter’s axe!). In fact, the main character was already doomed before he was even born. Indeed, he is the child of the Hiroshima bomb itself: his mother got pregnant as she was hit by a beam from the explosion.

#hideshi hino #panorama of hell #horror #hino hideshi #horror manga

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doomonfilm · 3 years

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Ranking : Gus Van Sant (1952-present)

I was somewhat familiar with Gus Van Sant prior into taking the deep dive through his catalog, but he was certainly a man that I thought I had a handle on. I knew he had more than a few amazing films under his belt, but the recent years had not been kind to him (see the shot taken at him in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back). I knew that he was from the Pacific Northwest (Oregon specifically), and his coming of age in an area that embraces weirdos and outsiders had an impact on him as a human and as a creator. I knew that films like Milk and Good Will Hunting had taken Van Sant to the highest heights, while the collective panning of films like Psycho and Last Days served as valleys in a career full of glorious peaks.

What I came to discover, however, was a man with genuine creative integrity, and lots of it. I found a director who understood his characters and actors on a human level, and shared them with viewers in ways that helped rich connections develop. I saw a director who was not afraid to make those that society often considers outcasts the emotionally rich and important centers of his narratives. I watched Gus Van Sant present, explore, develop and refine his style over deeply independent and infamously studio-driven projects, giving all experiences as much care and attention as he was able. I saw films I was familiar with find placement behind films I was new to, I discovered that his recent creative years have not been as kind to him as the first two-thirds of his career, and I can see that there still may be a bit of a smolder left in his creative fire.

Ranking directors is a labor of love, but by no means do I consider myself the definitive professional on film canon. I enjoyed all of the Gus Van Sant films I watched on some level, and as always, for those brave enough to interact, I’d be curious to see where you would make adjustments to the list. But enough introduction talk, let’s get into what you folks came for!

17. Restless (2011) There are things about Restless that I want to love without judgement. First and foremost, Mia Wasikowska is an absolute treasure who shines in this performance from the earlier portion of her career. The portrayal of Hiroshi is one of the more subtle, substanced and interesting ways of using a ghost within the film framework. As minor a thing as it may be to the casual moviegoer, some of this film’s technical aspects are astounding, specifically the costuming and the lighting choices. Where the film distracts me, and therefore drops in these rankings, is where it takes the YA approach to the romantic drama, with a healthy dose of manic pixie dream girl energy thrown in for good measure. When it comes to displaying romance on-screen, be it teenage or otherwise, there are no expectations, even for a director with a distinct style. Where my issues arise are in the way that death is handled in this film… while I do understand that not every film has to be a distinct statement for a director (especially a film written by another individual), Gus Van Sant had already established a very mature approach to the subject of death, and the way that death and the manic pixie dream girl aspects are intertwined feels more on the amateur side than I am comfortable with for a Gus Van Sant film. Maybe giving the impossibly troubled young man a muse with an expiration date as his way to find the best version of himself is a stroke of genius that provides a gateway for deep commentary on the concept of the manic pixie dream girl, but the film is so approachable and not the type to bare teeth (be it satirically or otherwise) that I doubt there is any subtext to its intention. For that reason, this film finds itself on the bottom half of the Van Sant canon.

16. Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot (2018) After the critical and box office disappointment that was The Sea of Trees, director Gus Van Sant had quite the hill to climb with his next film, and with his adaptation of Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot, it seemed he was able to right those respective ships. Strangely, the film failed to connect with me, and as far as I can tell, it seems to be the victim of an “all sizzle, no steak” scenario. The film is certainly a showcase of a very diverse cast, and based on both the flashback-based and group therapy approach to the story, there are a wealth of opportunities to create memorable moments. Unfortunately, and perhaps due to an oversight on my end, I failed to find enough substance during my viewing of the film to prop up the parade of moments. What it felt like I was left with, sadly, was a Simple Jack-level approach to conveying a paraplegic-centered story, which undercut the fact that the film is actually telling the true story of cartoonist, artist and musician John Callahan. That’s not to say that the film doesn’t have it’s positive aspects, such as the John Callahan illustrations and the animated versions of his work, but those positive aspects feel sparse in comparison to how much the film relishes in what feels like Oscar bait. If nothing else, see this film for Jonah Hill, because it took me much longer than it should have to recognize him, partly due to his impressive weight loss and partly due to how dedicated he is to achieving the film’s period look.

15. The Sea of Trees (2015) Death is no stranger in the films of Gus Van Sant, but I don’t feel that it would be bold to state The Sea of Trees deals with death in the most direct manner. For those that subscribe to grief having stages, this film accounts for all of them in some way, shape or form during the course of the narrative as we watch Arthur Brennan fall apart and rediscover himself in the wake of losing Joan Brennan, his wife. Placing the film in Aokigahara (aka the "Japanese suicide forest") not only gives the film a sense of natural beauty, but a foreboding sense of dread and despair as well. The core cast is as strong as any found in a Van Sant film, with Matthew McConaughey, Ken Watanabe and Naomi Watts all turning in solid performances. Sadly, the film falters in one very core aspect : sympathy for the protagonist. I found myself feeling very bad for Joan Brennan as I watched her arc, and despite knowing nothing about Watanabe’s character portrayal of Takumi Nakamura, I found myself sympathetic to him based solely on what he was emoting. Arthur Brennan, however, is interesting in all the wrong ways… he is extremely cold and purposefully flat when introduced, the moments we share with the Brennans only seem to show Arthur finding joy at the expense of Joan’s pride, his view of the loss of his wife (and his world view in general) seem to be extremely self-centered, and when he does show heroic attributes they are rooted solely in self-preservation. Perhaps if Van Sant had not already made such eloquent reflections on death via The Death Trilogy and Paranoid Park, The Sea of Trees could have been seen in a different light, but when you set such a high bar for your work, returning to stereotypical storytelling can feel flat and uninspired.

14. Last Days (2005) Last Days is a film with a weird energy and aura surrounding it… in some ways, it feels like the most performative film not only of the Death Trilogy, but out of the entire Gus Van Sant catalog. At the risk of using too negative an adjective, it also feels the most exploitive, though neither of these observations are necessarily meant to be a knock against the film. The Death Trilogy could not help but be exploitive at its root, as each film was inspired by an infamous death event, and with Michael Pitt’s Blake meant to be an avatar for Kurt Cobain, it would be simple to take the film at face value for some sort of glamourized and idealized fictional retelling of his tragic final moments, not to mention a few stylistic nods to iconic Cobain-related imagery. What that viewer would be missing, in my opinion, is a film looking to make some familiar points on outsider culture (specifically alternative rock and roll counterculture and addict culture) minus all the glamour and shine. While Blake’s house is grand, it’s decrepit and in a state of disrepair… despite it being isolated, expected and unexpected guests arrive constantly, not to mention an intrusive ringing phone that connects Blake to outworld obligations… Blake has a number of people living with him, but he almost never interacts with them. Michael Pitt is done up to look so similar to Kurt Cobain that much of the narrative background is implied, and what we are left with is the Death Trilogy style implemented and fused onto a loose leaf narrative with just enough structure to let the supporting actors have isolated memorable moments while we watch Pitt’s Blake decay in the ways that many of us Cobain fans ruminated on in the wake of his sudden and tragic death at the height of his tortured popularity.

13. Gerry (2002) At the risk of sounding cliché, Gerry may be the most fascinating film in Gus Van Sant’s canon. It marks a clear and definitive break in convention from a director that seemingly never cared too much for convention anyway. Multiple aspects of this film make it extremely unique : both characters referring to one another by the same name (though Gerry eventually evolves into an all-purpose non-specific descriptor), a seemingly absent narrative, a shared goal between the characters literally referred to as “the thing” in order to purposely keep viewers in the dark and, perhaps most importantly, a deliberately methodical pacing that pushes even seasoned film lovers to the limits of their patience. The film is beautiful, and that is a fact that cannot be denied… the painterly shot compositions of our characters in the isolated desert, the unfathomably long tracking shots that pull us deeper off the beaten path and the sonic stillness (due to a largely absent score that is replaced with the sounds of nature) either commit you fully to the experiment or come off as massively pretentious. To view the film through that secondary lens, however, is to miss the point of it all. Once it is understood that Gerry marked the entry point for Gus Van Sant’s Death Trilogy, you began to realize that Van Sant, in tandem with Matt Damon and Casey Affleck, are giving us an understanding of how we should view the trilogy, and how open-minded we should be in processing what is given to us, like some early high-concept version of what Quentin Dupieux would later go on to master in a more abstract manner.

12. Mala Noche (1985) It’s fitting that this was a feature-length debut from a driven and working director, as it has a very distinct look and feel to it that immediately lets you know you’re dealing with an innate storyteller and someone who has spent time observing the human condition. In terms of visual and narrative balance, Gus Van Sant utilizes what feels like a mix of John Cassavetes and Jack Kerouac, respectively. Van Sant’s use of titles in the film is striking, specifically in terms of the handwritten opening credits and the Dr. Pepper ad copy used to subtitle the Spanish language dialogue. Focusing so heavily on immigration and homosexuality in 1985 is a bold choice, especially as neither group had yet to benefit (even if only minimally) from the onset of politically correct culture policing. While the film was more than likely shot in black and white due to budgetary constraints, the infusion of somewhat modern elements (for the time) gives it a youthful and forward-thinking energy. Having a film of this nature lean so heavily on multilingual and multicultural elements is refreshing, and even more impactful when examined under the boorish and (at times) tone deaf application that humanizes these elements. For all of these aspects of the film, however, when examined at the pure narrative foundation, what we find is a story about how love can blind us from the reality we inhabit, and how we often choose to ignore the obvious when romance and romanticism enters the picture.

11. Psycho (1998) Of all the films in the Van Sant catalog, perhaps the bravest, boldest and most baffling entry is his nearly shot for shot remake of the iconic Alfred Hitchcock thriller and cinematic game changer Psycho. Remakes were certainly not a new or unheard of practice at the time of the Van Sant Psycho release, but most directors opt to put significant twists or updates into their retelling of most remakes, and most films chosen do not hold the lofty stature and position that Psycho does when it comes to remakes. Van Sant’s approach not only made viewers keenly aware of just how direct the homage was, but in some places, modern touches were added in very subtle ways to make the movie more palatable for modern audiences, including more salacious references to sexuality, sound design choices in both the diegetic and symbolic realm, and even an update or two to iconic scenes meant to make us much more uneasy with the Vince Vaughn portrayal of Norman Bates. The actors cast were all famous and respected enough to keep the film’s timeless feeling in-tact, even if the remake could be taken as its own weird and warped project. Personally, I’ve always loved this remake, and taken it as an experiment on the highest commercial level, and a signal to all that Van Sant (at the time) was done with the traditional approach to filmmaking and concepting.

10. Paranoid Park (2007) While many movies centered around skateboarding spend their time and design budget trying to make the outsider nature of the practice look “cool”, Paranoid Park spends its time making sure that the isolation, deep focus and rebellious attitude that come with skateboarding were more authentic than they were appealing. High school is already a very taxing and polarizing section of juvenile development, and based on your perception at the time, the weight that the world unloads on you can feel wholly unbearable. Perhaps this is what makes Paranoid Park such a tense film… that natural teenage angst is already imprinted into the film (and amplified due to the casting of relative unknowns), but Gus Van Sant’s signature use of alternative film stocks, obscure soundtrack and expressive, layered sound design but you square in Alex’s head from the opening moments. As the narrative unfolds, we realize that Alex is not only dealing with standard-issue teen stress, but has unwillingly found himself involved in the type of events that change an individual’s world. This film plays well as the first film post-Death Trilogy, as it deals with the gravity of mortality head-on much like the aforementioned three films, but does so from an adaptive stance rather than one based on true events. If you’re a fan of skater flicks, movies with strong teen acting, or little-known Gus Van Sant gems, then Paranoid Park is a gem waiting for discovery.

9. Finding Forrester (2000) Gus Van Sant has always had a way with stories that dive below the surface of the human experience and condition, so it makes sense that his attempt at a New York-based movie about people living in “the hood” would cover an array of topics with masterful subtlety, specifically the topics of race relations, generational gaps and the blurry line between education and exploitation. The casting on this film is extremely strong… then newcomer Rob Brown gives a riveting and dynamic lead performance, it’d be harder to cast a more perfect curmudgeon than Sean Connery, and appearances by F. Murray Abraham, Anna Paquin, Busta Rhymes and a Matt Damon cameo all stand out. Speaking of Damon, Finding Forrester shares a similar energy to Good Will Hunting, but the proximity of release ultimately held Finding Forrester from finding its proper audience (no pun intended). I wish I had more to say about this film outside of my personal feelings and connections to the story (which I will save for a dedicated deep dive in the future), but Finding Forrester is one of those films that has no trouble speaking for itself.

8. Promised Land (2012) As of the point that this blog post was created, this film stands as the last of the great Van Sant creations. There is something about the Gus Van Sant approach to filmmaking that works best with “salt of the Earth” types, and with Promised Land being centered around the practice of fracking, much of that down-home nature is immediately baked into the story. Speaking of the story, the film was co-written by the characters who ended up being the protagonist and antagonist of the picture, respectfully, which created an electric main dynamic that served as the spine for many other strong dynamics present in the film. In terms of the cinematography, much of Van Sant’s bold approaches and stylistic shifts are absent, save for a few beautiful bird’s eye view perspective shots that give you a real idea of what rural America looks like. Van Sant is no stranger to stacked casts, but he gets some truly top notch names to take part in this affair, and true to the clout behind these names, the performances are as stellar as they are believable and natural. The film also touched a nerve with the actual oil industry due to some of its comments on fracking, despite it not having the reach or success of other Van Sant films. While possibly an indicator that Van Sant would be making a stylistic shift, Promised Land still manages to capture what makes Van Sant his best self in terms of not only presenting real people, but topical and important situations.

7. Milk (2008) Gus Van Sant is clearly no stranger to having representation for the gay community in his films, so it makes sense that one of the hallmark films in his canon would center around gay rights activist and politician Harvey Milk. Much like JFK crystalized Oliver Stone, or Spike Lee was raised to another echelon by Malcolm X, Van Sant found a second round of Academy Award-level validation via this biopic while solidifying himself as a creative who could go back and forth effortlessly between big budget studio films and independent projects. With Sean Penn giving one of his signature chameleon-like performances and leading the pack, this Van Sant production is filled with tons of burgeoning talent who have since gone on to make names for themselves in the industry, including the likes of Emile Hirsch, Diego Luna, James Franco, Alison Pill and others, plus a standout performance from Josh Brolin (who also depicted George W. Bush in the same year for the aforementioned Stone). While it may not be the most technically marveling film of Van Sant’s career, it is clearly one of his most important, and the way that it handles the messages it intends to share is as confident as it is even-keeled, which is important for a film that could have easily become a soapbox for espousing personal beliefs and political agendas.

6. Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (1993) This Gus Van Sant adaptation of the famed author Tom Robbins novel shares the same creative energy of films like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Natural Born Killers, Harold and Maude and so on in the sense that it is a very expressive film with a very specific idea it is looking to present. Where the aforementioned films explored ideas of free love taken to the extreme, the toxicity of media, love without judgement and so on (respectively), Even Cowgirls Get the Blues puts femininity and identity outside of the male gaze squarely in its crosshairs. Uma Thurman takes on the role of Sissy with wide-eyed zeal, floating through a series of hitchhiker-based adventures until her reluctant visit to the Rubber Road Ranch helps her find the missing piece of her puzzle. Seeing a bizarre, star-studded tale of a woman finding her agency sounds like it would work on the surface, but from what I could find, the film failed to make a connection with audiences and is considered a commercial and critical failure (which is probably why it was the toughest film to track down on this list). That being said, I’m a sucker for films that catch a bad rap, especially when the combination of such a unique director and visionary author are the foundation of it, because it makes me curious about why I find connection where others did not… who knows, maybe it was those extremely distracting rubber thumbs (the only real knock I can make on the film), or maybe the Tom Robbins style is tough to transfer from page to screen, but for my money’s worth, I can see the vision.

5. My Own Private Idaho (1991) Somewhere within the intersection of films like Midnight Cowboy and Fight Club lies My Own Private Idaho, an extremely personal and nuanced film that covers many topics with depth and an ease that comes with wisdom and experience. For example, when it comes to views on identity, we get two rich narratives that could easily both be their own film : Mike (portrayed by River Phoenix) is going through a crisis of identity based on a sordid history with his mother and absentee father that makes his search for love transform into a life of hustling as a way to find momentary intimacy; meanwhile, Keanu Reeves (who plays Scott) is an entitled young man awaiting an inheritance that decides to spend the time until it happens “slumming” with those many would consider the outcasts of society, much like the “tourists” spoken of by Edward Norton’s narrator in Fight Club. The struggle with masculinity in the face of homosexuality is all over this film, from its multiple male on male connections to the very toxic manner that the core group interacts with one another, when they are not grieving or putting their livelihood in danger via petty crimes. In terms of Van Sant style, the film is one of his most innovative (outside of the film holding the top spot) in terms of looks, with its unique range of colorful title cards, the pinhole vision that Mike uses on his road, or even the standout magazine rack sequence. The film is also a perfect follow-up to Drugstore Cowboy, and could easily double feature with it to this day. As someone not wholly familiar with Shakespeare’s Henry plays, I did not catch that My Own Private Idaho was an adaptation, so I will not only have to revisit it with that familiarity in tow, but I will have to take a look into James Franco’s re-cut, My Own Private River, as well.

4. Elephant (2003) Based solely on the nature and definition of a trilogy, a second film can make or break things. Gerry and Last Days share similarities in how quiet and isolated they are, so it makes sense that Elephant, part two of Van Sant’s Death Trilogy, would in many ways be the meat of the trilogy sandwich in terms of style and thematic substance. Elephant operates on several distinct levels based on Van Sant’s observations of the world going into the new millennium, as the film allowed him a foundation for both experimentation and examination by proxy. While the long takes and vast amount of distance traveled during said takes was present in all three films of the trilogy, Van Sant made a concentrated effort to make the shots look and feel similar to that of video games like the later Grand Theft Auto entries, hence a number of the shots being positionally locked during travel (often times a few feet behind the character at the center of that moment’s focus). There are ramp-downs of the frame rate to punctuate certain moments, and quite often the camera is thrown on a tripod and allowed to take in the array of high schoolers living their standard life. It is this mundane world-building aspect that not only gives the viewer a rapid but deep look into a handful of character’s lives, but it gives you a sense of the school’s social hierarchy while forcing you to reflect on where you once stood within it. Per the film’s clever title, the elephant in the room eventually appears in the form of Eric and Alex, the pair of school shooters meant to reflect the Columbine Massacre perpetrators. While school shootings weren’t an unknown phenomenon going into the 2000’s, Elephant became prophetic in its vision by releasing right before the numbers started rising at an alarming rate on these incidents. In that sense, Elephant holds the dual distinction of not only being one of Van Sant’s best films, but one of his most important. I will soon be looking into the 1989 Elephant film as well.

3. Drugstore Cowboy (1989) The power of Drugstore Cowboy as a modern-day narrative tragedy about the epidemic of prescription drugs, the dark allure of crime and the oddball way that broken people find solace in one another is immediately evident to anyone who has had the pleasure to see Gus Van Sant’s studio directorial debut. Where the film really stands out however, in my opinion, is the way that Van Sant is able to achieve his major studio look while deeply applying a very artistic and personal aesthetic to the cinematography and editing. The traditional looks are interspersed with the use of different film stocks, subtle blends of animation and flashes of stylistic edits that were almost certainly an inspiration for Darren Aronofsky’s “hip-hop editing” style. Add to this an incredibly intuitive and expressive core cast driven by the chemistry between Matt Dillon and Kelly Lynch (and a very early Heather Graham supporting appearance), plus a strong appearance by the always memorable Max Perlich, a fiery James Remar performance and an iconic cameo from William S. Burroughs. The jazz-influenced score not only makes key scenes livelier, but it is a symbolic statement on the drug use depicted in the film, while simultaneously playing counter to the soundtrack choices. Period, point-blank, Drugstore Cowboy is the kind of film that surely put the world on notice, and was a clear signal of the magnificent work that would follow.

2. Good Will Hunting (1997) If held up to the standards of what people consider to be good (or even classic) film, Good Will Hunting more than holds up to scrutiny. Visually there are a small handful of flourishes, and having Elliot Smith’s music accompany Will’s painful but enlightening journey has only become more of a bittersweet sting as the years go by. In terms of performances, everyone brought their A+ game to the table, be it the leading performances of Matt Damon, Robin Williams or Stellan Skarsgård, the supporting performances of Ben Affleck or Minnie Driver, or even the engaging nature of Cole Hauser and repeat scene stealer Casey Affleck. After a flurry of dedicated fandom viewings in the years following this film’s release, a very long period away from the film where I had leagues of personal growth, and a revisitation for this set of rankings, what I have discovered is that Good Will Hunting presents a wish fulfillment fantasy that was nearly incapable of being a reality in the pre-internet age for anyone other than a character like Will : an undiscovered genius with a degree from the school of hard knocks. In a world where people often wish they had the correct answer to every question, the looks and personality to be a social magnet, and the ability to back up any tough talk with stone hands, Will Hunting stood as an idealized example you wished you could peel off the screen and have some beers with. As the internet has invaded our lives, however, most everyone has turned into a keyboard version of Will Hunting, looking for fights online when not having briefly intimate Google sessions to flex our supposed knowledge. Much like Will, many people find that the knowledge minus the wisdom of worldly experience and vulnerability leaves you a shell of a person filled to the eyeballs with regret, and perhaps that is why this film only gets better as the years go by, and remains among the best of the Van Sant creations.

1. To Die For (1995) For the longest time, I avoided To Die For simply because I was not a fan of Nicole Kidman… the vast majority of her roles held no interest to me prior to To Die For (it took Eyes Wide Shut for me to really start paying attention to her), and because she was so key to the film, there was never a sense of urgency about seeing it. As time went by, however, I started to hear rumblings that To Die For may have been a bit ahead of its time, to the point that technology and social practices have caught up to some of the ideas presented in the film. I finally watched it for this ranking set, and man, I really missed the boat on this one. Plain and simple, this film is pure genius on every level. The presentation starts off documentary-esque, which not only allows for expedited distribution of backstory information, but immediately gives you an idea for the personalities of our key characters. Kidman’s portrayal of Suzanne stood as the textbook example for what has become commonly known as sociopathy, with her blind desire for fame and respect leading to a wake of human destruction. In terms of narrative pacing, the film proceeds like a match dropped at the endpoint of a long gasoline trail, slowly drifting towards the eventually point that everything blows up and damage must be assessed while blame and accountability must be handled, resulting in a truly powerful ending more than deserving of the heavy lifting that precedes it. The 24-hour news cycle was on the horizon in 1995, daytime talk shows and MTv’s The Real World had not shifted into the reality TV landscape that we know today, and while a few high profile cases such as the Menendez Brothers and Pamela Smart trial (the loose inspiration for this film) had happened, the bombshell and watershed trail that was the O.J. Simpson murder case was hot on the heels of To Die For’s release (the same month, actually). Stylistically, the film also bears striking resemblance to an updated version of Sunset Boulevard, be it knowingly or not. Long story short, the best films not only comment on the times in which they are created, but gain relevance as time passes, and To Die For handled both of these things phenomenally.

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belliesandburps · 3 years

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Anon Submission: A Very Peculiar (and Partial) TW Dreamcast

“Heyo! So uh, I’m not 100% sure if my picks will make sense, but I’m sending it in this format because the asks format is a bit of a bitch.

Floyd/Austin Tindle - He voices Monoma in MHA and Accelerator in A Certain Magical Index. These two tend to be rather manic, and Floyd, while not manic, is uh… Well, somewhat unstable. If he can reach just the right high pitch, I can see him doing a good job.

Malleus/James Callis - I blame a TW crack compilation for this one. James Callis voices Alucard in Castlevania, and his voice is so so smooth. If he ever voiced Malleus, I’m hoping he’d be able to bring the rage ensuing from not receiving an invitation for the last time.

Leona/Richard Armitage - Also from that crack compilation. Pretty much the same as above. :’)

Deuce/David Matranga - Deuce isn’t socially inept like Todoroki, but he’s not the most Sicily adept either. I’m not SAYING he wouldn’t go "my name is not five weenies”… But I am saying David’s voice is deep enough for it without sounding too deep.

Idia/Aaron Dismuke - He voices Tamaki. What can I say? XD

I don’t have a character for Zeno Robinson, but damn I wish he’d be in this… 🥰

Anyhoo, these are just my picks. I’m curious to hear what you think about them!“

(My thoughts below)

These are all interesting picks, and I’m very familiar with each one! Thanks for sharing! I always love seeing what other people come up with, especially since the picks are always so drastically different from person to person. It’s a lotta fun! :)

As for my thoughts on the picks you chose?

Austin Tindle as ‘Floyd’ - I can see him working. He’s got that hyper-energy to him and can definitely go "pinprick” on a dime. I think, for me, his voice is a LITTLE too low, especially now, he’s a solid pick! He’s someone I think could fit any number of characters, but one I think he may actually be a slightly better fit for is the OTHER Leech, given his lower voice and the calmer demeanor he’s played for other more cunning characters.

James Callis as ’Malleus’ - Full disclosure, I kind of hope celebrities or TV actors DON’T step anywhere near this show, if a dub ever happens. I always prefer when animes sound like they’re being voiced by people more well-versed with anime. And part of the appeal to Castlevania the anime was that it was an anime that really, REALLY doesn’t feel like conventional anime at all. And the issue with that is, unlike Castlevania, TW very much DOES play like a very, very, veeeery conventional anime…one we all thirst for. XP He’s a great actor with a kickass voice, but between that and the fact that I just think he’s far too old for the part, I personally couldn’t see it. But that’s the beauty of dreamcasting, we all got our own mechanisms. :P

Richard Armitage as 'Leona’ - Same as above. I’m just very adamantly against TV actors in anime, and I say that as someone who ADORES Armitage. I never watched Lord of the Rings or the new trilogy, but he is, bar none, the single best Tooth Fairy the Hannibal canon has ever known. But also, like Callis, I personally think he’s WAY too old for Leona. (That’s also a “me” thing, honestly, where I usually prefer to imagine characters played by actors closer in age, and Armitage is around 50 now, same as Callis.)

David Matranga as 'Deuce’ - Matranga’s a great voice actor. I don’t personally vibe him as Todoroki for just sounding way too deep for the part, but he’s very versatile, in terms of the personalities he’s played. I think the issue, in this case, is I can’t personally picture him having the almost adorably hilarious freakouts with the same kinda energy we’ve seen from Deuce, who bolsters and shouts and sputters like a loon. But he’s still a good pick, I’d say.

Aaron Dismuke as 'Idia’ - Spoiler Alert: I’m still trying to determine if he’s who I’d cast as Idia as well, sooooo…yeah, pretty perfect pick. 'XD

As for Zeno Robinson, oh, I think he could play any number of characters. He’s crazy versatile like that. After seeing a clip of him as that buck-toothed kid in that cartoon, he could work as Ruggie. I could also see him as Che'Nya, Sam, maybe even Jack. I’d need to re-check a few of his roles to be certain.

Good stuff all around! Thanks again for sharing! And if anyone else has their own dreamcasts they wanna send and hear thoughts on, I’m all for it! :)

#submission #anon submission #twisted wonderland #dreamcast #voice acting #dub cast #i can't watch castlevania though...#i know it's beloved but jesus christ the gore...#when it gets very specific and detailed...i just...yikes...#always good to hear matt frewer though!#that man is a goddamn national treasure...#...who...may actually be canadian i don't remember #max h-h-h-h-h-head-head-head-head-ro-ro-ma-ma-max headroom #i don't know why i typed that #i thought of matt frewer and just thought of that wonderful moment #the 80's were weird #i wish i was around for more than one year of it 'XD

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heartofether · 3 years

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Episode 16 - Lorelei TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

VAL

Warning: This episode contains discussions and descriptions of child abuse, and may not be suitable for all audiences. For exact time stamps and a full list of content warnings, please check the show notes. We suggest you check the content warnings regardless, since this is a bit of an intense episode, and contains instances of panic attacks, screaming, and violence. Listener discretion is advised.

AUTOMATED VOICE

[VERY SLOWED DOWN] Please state your message.

[THEME SONG PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME SONG FADES TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT./EXT. OUTSIDE OF LORELEI FOSTER’S HOUSE, DAYTIME.]

[THE SOUND OF A RAVEN CAWING IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

AGENT JUNE

Jeez, this place smells like a zoo.

AGENT MAY

I need to introduce the recording. Interview with Lorelei Foster, at her home. Part of Operation Saturn, phase 1.2. Conducted by Agents May and June. All— [CUTTING HIMSELF OFF] June, hey, stay in the car!

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT JUNE IS HEARD OPENING THE CAR DOOR AND STARTING TO STEP OUT.]

AGENT JUNE

What? Come on, dude, I’m getting impatient.

AGENT MAY

We’ll go up to her door in a minute. There’s just—I need to ask you something first.

AGENT JUNE

Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?

[HE CLIMBS BACK INTO THE CAR, CLOSING THE DOOR. AGENT MAY SIGHS.]

AGENT MAY

[SLIGHTLY NERVOUS] You are aware of the case of Lorelei Foster, correct?

AGENT JUNE

Uh, obviously. She was a part of some coven and they all went missing except for her. She moved to this house way outside of town and refused to show her face.

AGENT MAY

Well, under the naming conventions of Valencia and Wood, the Foundation believes that Lorelei Foster is what is known as a “Beastly.” What she could be capable of—it’s not something to play around with. Okay? She could be dangerous. Not deadly, per say, but still potentially devastating in her power.

AGENT JUNE

[PANICKED SARCASM] Wow, that’s super comforting, Agent May.

AGENT MAY

Just don’t say or do anything stupid, alright? Also, if when we see her, she looks, you know, different, don’t comment on it. Act like you don’t even notice.

AGENT JUNE

That’s all? Well, don’t worry about it, then. I’ve never judged a book by its cover. I’ll just stand there and act as well-behaved as I always do.

AGENT MAY

[UNDER HIS BREATH] That’s what I feared.

[THEY BOTH GET OUT OF THE CAR AND WALK UP TO HER FRONT DOOR. IT'S A LOVELY DAY OUTSIDE, WITH BIRDS CHIRPING AS IF NOTHING IS WRONG. AGENT MAY KNOCKS.]

AGENT MAY

Ms. Foster? This is Agents May and June. We’re with the Harper Foundation. We’re here to ask you a few questions.

[A RAVEN CAWS AS THERE IS NO RESPONSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe she’s not home?

AGENT MAY

I don’t believe she ever leaves her house. Look at her car. It’s untouched. I’m sure she even gets her groceries delivered, somehow.

[HE KNOCKS AGAIN.]

AGENT MAY

We do not wish to harm you or bring you into custody, Ms. Foster. We won’t tell anyone what you are or what you’re doing here. We simply believe you may have some helpful insight on Ether. Just let us ask a few things, and then we’ll be out of your way.

[THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

AGENT JUNE

Maybe it’s a lost cause. Well, at least we can say we tried. Guess we should just—

[AS HE’S TALKING, THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN JUST A CRACK.]

LORELEI

You do not plan on taking photographs, do you?

AGENT MAY

We’re recording this over audio. Nobody will see your face except for the two of us, we promise.

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, don’t sweat it. We’re not gonna—[STARTLED] Oh my god!

[AS HE SPEAKS, LORELEI OPENS THE DOOR THE REST OF THE WAY TO REVEAL HER TRUE FORM.]

LORELEI

Is there a problem?

AGENT MAY

Not at all, Ms. Foster. Apologizes for my colleague, he is—

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUSLY BLUFFING] I have a fear of new people. Yup. Terrified of ‘em.

AGENT MAY

[PLAYING ALONG] It’s tragic, really. Makes our job incredibly difficult.

LORELEI

[SUSPICIOUS] Quite.

[A BEAT.] Well, you said you had questions?

AGENT MAY

That we do. May we come in?

LORELEI

I would advise against it. Terrance is a pacifist when around me, but I am unsure of how he would react to new people.

AGENT JUNE

And who is Terrance, exactly?

LORELEI

A bear. [SADLY] Used to be a friend.

[A BEAR GROWLS IN THE BACKGROUND. AGENT JUNE MAKES A WEAK NOISE OF FEAR.]

LORELEI

I am still unsure whether his calm nature is because he maintained his human consciousness, or if I have some level of control over him that makes him do as I wish. Perhaps a mix of both.

AGENT MAY

Did you make him this way?

LORELEI

That much should be obvious, don’t you think? Assuming you really know what you’re talking about, and you’re not just bluffing.

AGENT MAY

We are somewhat familiar with your kind, but we’re always looking to learn more.

LORELEI

[SHE SCOFFS.] Is that what this is? You view me as a learning opportunity? Like a sample dragged in by the biology teacher for lab day?

AGENT MAY

Of course not. We’re just trying to learn more about Ether.

AGENT JUNE

I am very curious about how you managed to do it, though, if you care to indulge us?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

[SOLEMN] I never asked for any of this. When we attempted the ritual, our hope was that by the end of it, all of us would obtain the same level of power. Valencia told me it would never work. I had quite the rebellious streak back then, though. I didn’t believe him. Perhaps I should have.

If I had known that all of that power would have been channeled into me, I never would have attempted it. Now that time has passed, I realize how useless of a power it even is. What made Ether decide to curse me with it, I’ll never know. Perhaps we didn’t speak clearly enough when we did the ritual.

I had no idea what my limits were, or how to use my abilities. The consequences, of course, were far greater than I could have ever imagined. Terrance and Abigail were both accidents. Clementine, I turned her into a spider in a fit of rage. Scott happened when I was sobbing my eyes out, and he made the mistake of trying to comfort me. I am unsure if I intended to turn him into a snake or not. By the time River was the only one left, they came to me and asked to be turned into a cat. They said they knew I was bound to do it eventually, and they wanted to choose what animal they became. I did as they wished.

[JUST AS SHE SAYS THAT, A RAVEN FLIES OVER AND SQUAWKS. AGENT JUNE STARTLES, YELPING AT THIS.]

LORELEI

[SHE GIVES A DRY CHUCKLE.] I don’t think Abigail likes you.

AGENT MAY

You mentioned the consequences were far greater than you could have imagined. Was that in reference to the loss of your friends?

LORELEI

Oh, don’t make me say it. It would have been one thing if I simply turned my entire coven into my own little petting zoo. Now, however, I can never escape my own errors, even if I were to leave them all behind. I am forever haunted by the marks my ability has left. The bear paw that has become of my left hand. The raven feathers in my hair. The spider eyes sprawled across my face. The venom that drips from my fangs and burns my lips. And oh, how disappointing having the tail of a cat is, despite how elegant I thought it would be when I was a little girl. Cats used to be my favorite animal. They aren’t anymore.

AGENT MAY

Don’t you think River would take offense to that?

LORELEI

Hm. Perhaps you’re right.

[A CAT MEOWS FROM INSIDE.]

AGENT MAY

How did you access Ether’s power?

LORELEI

The same way I’m sure most people have. We did a ritual. Just as most of them do, it went wrong.

AGENT MAY

Do you know where exactly it went wrong?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

Can I be honest with you? I have had years to think long and hard about the events that transpired that night. I read through our plans over, and over again, hoping to find a way to undo it all. After all of that, I came to the conclusion that whatever fault it was—whatever slip of the tongue or missing ingredient it could have been—none of it would have mattered.

Ether chooses who to favor and who to damn by the luck of a draw. Flip of a coin. It knows no order. It will do what it pleases. It is not a person, or a sentient being—it is a random number generator that can grant unlimited power if you get lucky. It’s a lottery of stones, however. Nobody is ever really winning, even those as fortunate as the Forget-Me-Nots, or those well-off enough to never hear about Ether at all.

[A PAUSE, THEN] Do you have any other questions? I’m rather sure my pets are looking forward to their dinner.

AGENT MAY

Just one: where is the heart of Ether?

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I would be careful, if I were you. I’ve heard things, rumors, about your little project. Though I doubt you fully understand the dangers, seeing as you’re just the worker bees, hm?

AGENT MAY

It’s not my place to question, I’m afraid.

LORELEI

Perhaps you should. Never does anyone any good, blindly following orders.

[AS THEY TALK, RIVER MEOWS, PURRING AS SHE RUBS AGAINST AGENT JUNE'S LEGS.]

AGENT JUNE

[WHISPERING TO THE CAT] Ah—hey! Go away! Shoo!

AGENT MAY

If you could answer the question, I promise we’ll be out of your hair.

LORELEI

Hm. I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. For years, people believed Ether resided in the sky, but that is untrue. Though, during the brief window Valencia was willing to speak to me, he did tell me he had a theory—

[AGENT JUNE CUTS HER OFF BY SNEEZING.]

AGENT JUNE

[MUTTERS] Stupid cat!

[RIVER HISSES.]

LORELEI

[OFFENDED] I would appreciate it if you did not insult my animals.

AGENT JUNE

[CONGESTED] Then tell River to leave me the hell alone. Can’t you control them, or whatever? At least use your freaky powers to—

AGENT MAY

[OVERLAPPING] Agent June—!

AGENT JUNE

I just want this damn—

[THERE’S A TENSE PAUSE AS HE REALIZES LORELEI IS GLARING INTENTLY AT HIM.]

AGENT JUNE

I mean, uh, this lovely cat, to uh…I’m so sorry, ma’am, this has been incredibly rude of me.

LORELEI

[A BEAT.] What was your name, again?

AGENT JUNE

Juh—uh, Agent June?

LORELEI

Agent June. [SHE SAYS THE NAME WITH DISDAIN.] Agent June, do you have a favorite animal, by chance?

AGENT MAY

[WHISPERING, PANICKED] Don’t say anything. Just thank her and let’s go before—

AGENT JUNE

[OVERLAPPING] I don’t know. Uh, have you ever heard of Sonic the Hedgehog?

LORELEI

[MIXED WITH CONFUSION AND DISGUST] Sonic. The Hedgehog.

AGENT JUNE

[NERVOUS RAMBLING] Yeah! I was obsessed with those games growing up, and so I went through this whole phase where I wanted a pet hedgehog really bad, but my parents never let me have one. Said I was too irresponsible, or whatever. That dream kinda, like, carried over into my adult life though?

LORELEI

[NODDING] So, hedgehogs.

AGENT JUNE

Um, sure.

LORELEI

I see.

[A PAUSE.]

LORELEI

I do hope you’re happy with that choice, Agent June.

[A HIGH-PITCHED RINGING IS HEARD AS SHE REACHES HER HAND OUT. AGENT JUNE STARTS SPUTTERING IN FEAR.]

[EERIE AND TENSE MUSIC BEGINS TO PLAY.]

AGENT JUNE

[TERRIFIED] What the—?

AGENT MAY

Shit.

[AGENT MAY IS HEARD PULLING OUT A DART GUN AND SHOOTING A TRANQUILIZER DART AT LORELEI. SHE CRIES OUT A BIT, BEFORE STUMBLING, AND THEN COLLAPSING.]

AGENT JUNE

Did you just tranquilize her?

AGENT MAY

I didn’t have a choice. Come on, get in the car. The full effect only lasts forty-five seconds.

[THEY BOTH FRANTICALLY CLIMB INTO THE CAR, SLAMMING THE DOORS AS THEY GET IN.]

AGENT MAY

Are you okay? Did she change you at all?

AGENT JUNE

[HYPERVENTILATING] No, no! But it—this really weird feeling washed over me, like, like my body was trying to fit into a smaller one, I—that was the worst thing I’ve ever felt, oh my god.

AGENT MAY

[ATTEMPTING TO SOOTHE] Agent June, calm down. You’re safe now, okay?

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, only because of you. You just saved my life. I mean, technically, I would have survived, but I would have had to live out the rest of my days as a hedgehog!

AGENT MAY

[FRUSTRATED] Maybe if you had been able to hold your damn tongue for thirty seconds, this wouldn’t have happened.

[AS HE TALKS, AGENT MAY STARTS THE CAR AND SPEEDS AWAY, THE TIRES SQUEALING.]

AGENT JUNE

I’m sorry I was having an allergic reaction!

AGENT MAY

That’s no excuse for you to have said the things you did. I told you to keep it together.

AGENT JUNE

Stop trying to blame all of this on me. I don’t care if it’s my fault, I almost just lost my humanity. Do you know how horrifying that was?

AGENT MAY

[HE INHALES SHARPLY.] No, you’re right. You’re not entirely to blame for what just happened.

If only she had at least finished her sentence about Valencia’s theory.

AGENT JUNE

[GUILTILY] Yeah, that was pretty poor timing, huh?

AGENT MAY

We’ll find out one way or another. Might have to go back to Irene Gray.

AGENT JUNE

Ah yes, the other enemy we’ve made in this town.

AGENT MAY

I guess we’re going to have to find a way to change that, then. [A BEAT.] Turn off the recording, please.

[SOME SHUFFLING AS AGENT JUNE MOVES TO TURN THE RECORDER OFF.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[EXT. LEMONGRASS PARK, NIGHT.]

[IRENE IS SITTING IN HER CAR. THERE ARE CRICKETS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

I’m parked in front of Lemongrass Park. To be honest, I’ve never actually been here, even though it’s so close to my house. It’s small, but it’s a nice park. There’s a swing set, a seesaw, one of those metal slides that would always burn my skin during the summer. Some nice trees, too.

[REMINISCING] Do you remember when we would go to the park late at night? It was really stupid of us to go there after dark, honestly, it’s a miracle nothing ever happened. Well, I mean, you did hurt your leg that one time you fell off the swing, which I still feel bad about. It felt so serene, though. Like we were the only people in the world. We were still clinging onto our childhood innocence, and you, you were so fond of that park near your house, and I was so fond of the way you laughed. You’ll love this park, too, I think, if you ever get to see it. You always loved places where—

Wait, hold on, I think—I think Sadie’s waving at me. She’s sitting over on one of the swings. At least, I think it’s her? Not quite what I expected her to look like, but then again, I don’t know what I was expecting. She’s wearing all black, and has a striped shirt underneath her t-shirt, even though it’s hot as hell. Is this how emo kids dress these days? I think Aden said something about “e-girls” or something. [SHE SCOFFS.] Jeez, I need to start keeping track of these things. I feel so old.

She’s also wearing a black fabric surgical mask, with a white design? I’ve hardly seen people wear those outside of the medical profession—I mean, there was one time, but that was an outlier. [SHE SAYS THIS PART UNCOMFORTABLY BECAUSE THIS IS REFERRING BACK TO THE FIRST TRAILER.]

It must be her, though. Otherwise, why would she be waving at me? I have the box of film in the passenger’s seat. Avery and I talked today, and they were incredibly vocal about how bad of an idea this was, but they said I’m an adult and can make my own choices.

Avery is…well. I think they have good intentions at heart. They act indifferent all the time, and they’re incredibly mature, but they seem…I don’t know. Sometimes, there’s this, fear, maybe? That bleeds through when they speak. I think they try to hide it. Reminds me they’re still, technically, a kid.

Right, I feel kinda awkward sitting here while Sadie is staring at me. Guess I should get this over with.

[IRENE GRABS THE BOX OF FILM AND STEPS OUT OF HER CAR. SHE WALKS TOWARDS SADIE. WHENEVER SADIE TALKS, HER VOICE IS JUST SLIGHTLY MUFFLED.]

SADIE

[FROM AFAR] Irene, right?

IRENE

Yup!

SADIE

Wonderful!

[SADIE WALKS OVER TO IRENE.]

SADIE

I’ll take that.

[SHE'S HEARD TAKING THE CARDBOARD BOX FROM IRENE.]

SADIE

Looks heavy! How many photos did you take?

IRENE

[HANDING THE BOX OFF] Thank you, uh, I didn’t take these, though.

SADIE

I see. That’s a bummer. I thought I’d met a person of similar passions.

IRENE

Sorry to disappoint.

SADIE

Don’t stress it! Where did you get the film, then?

IRENE

[LYING] It’s from one of my dead relatives.

SADIE

Mm. Sorry to hear that.

IRENE

It was a while ago, so it's okay.

SADIE

They sure took lots of photos. Do you have any idea what they photographed?

IRENE

No clue.

SADIE

Well, I’ll do my best to get this developed. I’m staying with my uncle for part of the summer, and he never uses his dark room, so I have it all to myself. You know, he has this massive house, spends lots of money on rooms he never uses every time he gets a new hobby.

IRENE

Odd he chose Daughtler of all places to stick it.

SADIE

You know, that’s what I said! My professor went green with envy when I told her about it, though. She said this is a perfect town to take pictures.

IRENE

You’re a student, then?

SADIE

Yup! Majoring in photography, in case that wasn’t already clear. [SHE GIGGLES.]

Anyways, I’ll try to get this developed for you as quickly as possible. It may take a while, ‘cause there’s so much of it, so would you like me to give it to you in batches?

IRENE

That would be great, yeah. Um, thank you. Are you sure I can’t pay you?

SADIE

Oh, please, don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m just thankful for the opportunity.

So, any other questions for me? I’m happy to answer them.

IRENE

Um, I have a bit of a weird one.

SADIE

Hm?

IRENE

Why are you wearing a surgical mask? Is it, like, a germ thing, or are you sick?

[THERE’S A PAUSE.]

SADIE

I should go get started on this.

IRENE

Um, you didn’t—

SADIE

[AGGRESSIVELY CUTTING HER OFF] Pleasure working with you, Irene! I’ll get back to you about your first batch ASAP!

IRENE

[TAKEN ABACK] Oh. Okay, then. Um, bye.

SADIE

Later!

[IRENE WALKS TO HER CAR AND CLIMBS BACK INSIDE. THERE'S A PAUSE.]

IRENE

Well, that was interesting, for lack of a better term. Sadie seems fine? I guess I just got a bit too personal with the mask thing. I mean, if it makes her feel comfortable, I don’t see why she can’t wear it. I’ll try not to worry about it. As long as she can develop the photos, that’s what matters.

Though I am kind of worried. I mean, Valencia could have taken, well, suspicious photos, assuming they’re connected to his research. I have no idea. I guess we just have to hope? Sadie seems pretty okay with minding her own business, it seems, so if I’m lucky, she won’t question it.

[HER PHONE STARTS VIBRATING.]

IRENE

Oh, hang on. Avery is calling me.

[A BEEP AS SHE ANSWERS.]

IRENE

Hello?

AVERY

Just making sure you didn’t get murdered.

[AS AVERY TALKS, THERE IS THE SOUND OF MASHING VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER BUTTONS AND JOYSTICKS.]

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] Well, I didn’t. Sadie was fine. You really had nothing to be worried about.

AVERY

[DISTRACTED] I mean, it’s still a really bad idea to be meeting someone in the park this late. Daughtler is a small town, but even if we don’t have much of a problem with normal creeps, weird stuff is still kind of the norm, you know?

IRENE

Yeah, I’ve gathered that much, I—wait, hang on, are you playing video games right now?

AVERY

Dude, it’s just Stardew Valley. It’s not like I’m fighting anything.

[A RAVEN CAWS FROM THE GAME.]

IRENE

[AWKWARDLY] I don’t know what that is.

AVERY

That’s because you’re old.

IRENE

Hey.

AVERY

[OVEREXAGGERATED, FAKE] Ah no, I just got attacked! I gotta hang up, sorry Irene!

IRENE

You just said there’s no—

[AVERY HANGS UP.]

IRENE

[DEFEATED] …combat.

[SHE HUFFS.] Talk to you later, I guess.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER BEEP.]

[INT. THE APARTMENT ABOVE THE OPEN EYES BOOKSTORE, NIGHT. A BUDGIE IS OCCASIONALLY HEARD CHIRPING OR FLAPPING ITS WINGS IN THE BACKGROUND THROUGHOUT THE SCENE.]

[HOLLY IS HEARD SORTING THROUGH A GROCERY BAG AND SETTING THINGS ON THE COUNTER.]

HOLLY

Is it recording?

PHOEBE

Yes, it is.

HOLLY

Cool, cool. I got eggs, by the way. I know you talked about wanting to try to make pie at some point, and you were running low, so.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY OVERLAPPING] Oh, um, thank you! Um, why were you out so late, anyways?

HOLLY

Hm? Oh, just a nighttime stroll.

PHOEBE

[WARY] I see.

[HOLLY WALKS OVER, AND SITS ON THE COUCH NEXT TO PHOEBE.]

HOLLY

Alright, then. You have the next letter? I guess all that’s left to do is open it.

[THERE'S A PAUSE AS HOLLY HESITATES.]

HOLLY

You sure you’re okay with me being in the room for this? I know her letters to you were, well, personal.

PHOEBE

It’s okay, don’t worry. I—I trust you. I’m sure Grandma Doe would, too.

HOLLY

[TENDERLY] That…that means a lot.

[A BEAT.] Go ahead, then.

[PHOEBE OPENS THE LETTER.]

PHOEBE

Phoebe, If you are reading this, I assume you have successfully completed the ritual. If it was not a success, well, I have a separate envelope marked for you to read. I suggest you find it.

HOLLY

Almost want to read the other one just to see what it says.

PHOEBE

[UNSETTLED] I don’t think that’s a good idea. If the alternative was that bad, well. I don’t want to think about what could have happened to me.

HOLLY

Fair, yeah. Continue.

PHOEBE

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] If everything worked as well as I hope, then you have now stepped into your role as a Forget-Me-Not. I could not be more proud of you, little wildflower. What a lovely Forget-Me-Not you will be.

I have already warned you of some of the dangers, but now that this is your reality, I am going to begin to describe it all in more detail in order to prepare you. It is nothing I have not already mentioned in previous letters, however.

Now, let us start from the beginning: why did I name them the Forget-Me-Nots? Valencia thought it to be a rotten name. Too flowery, he said it was, too delicate. I believe it to be a sophisticated name. Better than the Hungry, or whatever other titles he’s come up with.

HOLLY

The hell is the Hungry?

PHOEBE

Um, I’m not sure. I’m sure we’ll find out?

HOLLY

Let’s hope.

PHOEBE

It goes on: Anyways, I called them the Forget-Me-Nots because it is not just about their quest for new knowledge. It is about the knowledge they already have. Sure, they know where to find any and all information, but what about that which is already within them? A Forget-Me-Not cannot forget anything. Even the tiniest detail, they will cling onto for the rest of their life. I still remember what I ordered at an Italian restaurant twenty-seven years ago. It was some mediocre chicken parmesan. The sauce was a bit too bitter for my taste, but I went back there because they had delightful breadsticks.

However, this is a double-edged sword. It is not just new information you will begin to retain. If only it was that simple. A Forget-Me-Not also remembers all which has happened before. This includes all of your life up to this point, from your early childhood, to more recent events.

When I chose you to be my predecessor, this is what I dreaded most. Your mother and I always considered it to be a blessing in disguise that you did not remember much of your childhood. I know you are aware of what happened, but the specifics are far worse than I think you’ve ever processed. I would not wish memories of that horrid time upon anyone, especially you. Your poor mother, my dear Agnes, she lives through them every day.

You may be forced to confront some of the memories of your father. The sick, rotten, vile man he was. I am eternally grateful I was able to save you from some suffering when you were a child, though I am deeply remorseful for all your mother put herself through. I wish I could be there to walk you through it all, to comfort you as you remember, but the circumstances are not in my favor.

You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, however, and you do not have to do it alone. Please do not hesitate to reach out to your mother if you find yourself needing the support. You could also talk to a friend—I’m assuming you have an abundance of those, you’re far too charming and sweet to not have any. Like I’ve said, isolation will only drain you of all you are. Nothing about this process will be easy, but I would not put you through it if I did not believe you could handle it.

Take your work slowly. Do not rush into it. Allow your mind to process the—

[PHOEBE SUDDENLY STOPS TALKING. THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

[A MIX OF CONFUSED AND CONCERNED] Phoebe?

PHOEBE

I— [A PAUSE, THEN] Sorry, sorry. Sorry. It’s just. [SHE TRAILS OFF.]

HOLLY

Is something wrong?

PHOEBE

Th—the letter, it’s just, um, got me thinking, I guess. About my father.

HOLLY

[CAUTIOUS] How much do you remember of him?

PHOEBE

[SHE GIVES A SHAKY CHUCKLE.] Oh, I’m trying to avoid that train of thought. I’m scared it will all come flowing in at once.

HOLLY

Oh, right, yeah. Try not to focus too much on it, okay?

PHOEBE

No, I’m okay, I just—I remember bits of it. More vividly, now, than I did before.

[WHAT FOLLOWS IS THE AFOREMENTIONED DESCRIPTION OF CHILD ABUSE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.]

PHOEBE

Have you seen the stuffed cow sitting on my bed? It’s so old and worn, but it’s one of the most precious things I own. Its name is Baby. It’s, um, a silly name, I know. I used to play pretend with it, though, and act like I was its mother. I cradled it, pretended to feed it. So I named it Baby. [A BEAT, THEN] I didn’t remember why I named it that until now.

My dad hated Baby, though. He hated that I was so attached to a stuffed cow, of all things. He would constantly use Baby to threaten me, holding his ability to take it away over my head, because he knew that was a quick way to make me upset. If it was his choice, I’m sure he would have destroyed it. Not sure why he never did.

One day, when he was in a bad mood, and my mom was at work, I hid Baby inside my closet. He stormed into my room, and demanded for me to give it to him. I lied and said I had no idea where Baby was, but of course he didn’t believe me. He tore through my room, ignoring my pleas for him to stop, until he found Baby and took it away. I was forced to clean up the mess he made before my mom got home.

When she did get home, I instantly went and hugged her legs tightly and sobbed. I told her that Daddy had taken Baby away, and ruined my room. She asked me to take her to my room, so I did, only to find Baby sitting on the bed, staring right back at me.

My dad came in. “Of course I didn’t take the stupid toy,” he said. “She probably just misplaced it.” My mom didn’t argue. I was outraged. How could she believe him? Looking back, however, she knew something was wrong. I know she did. Even as a kid, I could read it on her face. He didn’t give her a choice, though.

[A BEAT.] He let me keep Baby, at least. Though he warned me not to try to tell mom what he did ever again. Otherwise, he would be very upset with me.

[A WET CHUCKLE.] And I didn’t even face the worst of it. I would spend days, weeks even, here with Grandma Doe when my dad was especially bad. That’s why her and I were so close, and why I didn’t remember so much of what my dad did. My mom had to endure most of it, though. That is, until she was finally able to get a divorce. He was arrested for a few years, I never learned what for, but I hope it was for the right reasons. When he got out, my mom got a restraining order against him.

The last time I saw him was my eighth birthday. He didn’t get me anything.

[THERE'S A LONG PAUSE.]

HOLLY

I’m going to kill him.

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS CHUCKLE] I—I appreciate you caring, but—

HOLLY

[A BIT TOO ANGRY] No. I mean it. If he’s still alive, I’ll kill him.

PHOEBE

[SLIGHTLY STARTLED] I don’t know if he’s still alive. I mean, it’s not like I’ve made an effort to reach out to him, heh.

HOLLY

[A PAUSE, THEN, SINCERE AND EMOTIONAL] I’m so sorry.

PHOEBE

It—It’s okay! Really. I promise. It was a long time ago. It’s just…I’m not sure how much I’m going to remember. As time goes on. I mean, I’m sure I would have been forced to confront my childhood eventually, this is just kind of speeding up the process.

HOLLY

You can always come to me, you know. If it gets to be too much.

PHOEBE

I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Holly. Really.

HOLLY

Of course. Anything I can do. [A PAUSE.] Would a hug be okay?

PHOEBE

[SHE TAKES A SHAKY BREATH.] A hug would be nice.

[THERE ARE FABRIC RUSTLES AS THEY ARE HEARD EMBRACING.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: "In every couple there is one who is the historian of the relationship."

Susan Sontag in Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[AT THE END OF THE CREDITS, THERE IS A BRIEF, HIGH-PITCHED RINGING NOISE, THAT BEGINS TO BREAK UP BEFORE STOPPING ABRUPTLY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

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starstruck-thirst · 5 years

Text

Crimson Dance Card

Illumi Zoldyck: Part 2 ‘A Dangerous Foxtrot’

Previous- Part 1 ‘A Waltz Macabre’

Next- Part 3 ‘Insidious Quickstep’

Warnings: None (This will be a slow burn/ build friends)

~~~~~~

Flowers were in bloom in every conceivable space that the garden allowed them to. High standing topiaries created shade for the bright purple lobelias and pure white sweet asylum flowers to flourish. Elaborate pathways broke up the garden beds that held brighter flowers such as magenta and scarlet zinnias and bright orange marigolds. The colors were so vibrant and bright that it hurt the eyes.

Actually, it did hurt your eyes, which was why you were wearing a nice pair of sunglasses as well as a wide brimmed sun hat. Sure, the gardens were lovely, but one could only take such an onslaught of color all at once for so long.

“Are you listening to me?”

You hadn’t been. But it only seemed fair to look at your conversation partner and pretend you were. “Of course. Please keep going,” you said with a small smile as you turned to look at him with your full attention.

Tibor was a rather dull person. So much so that ‘bor’- as in ‘boring’- was part of his name. Or so you had thought somewhat cruelly to yourself when your father told you that he was you intended fiancé. He was nice looking enough: somewhat tall, blond, gray eyes, and tanned just the right amount for his skin tone. But it only served as an outward sign of his inward tedious personality for you. It was all so… expected.

“Oh! Well then. I was saying that after we got married we could honeymoon off content. I know of a lovely place that-,” and you stopped listening again.

The meandering people that were attending the gardens today were far more interesting by comparison, and you didn’t even know them. One woman stopped and pointed to a flower at her feet. Her male companion knelt and plucked a fuchsia gloxinia flower from the ground and offered it to her. She took it with a delighted giggle and you sighed, leaning on your arm as you watched the couple walk away.

Suddenly, you sat bolt upright. Just past the couple as they walked away had there been a blur of long black hair around a row of high bushes?

“Darling, are you alright?” Tibor asked, putting a concerned hand on your own. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew,” you lied, looking back to your tea cup and lifting it to your lips for a sip. The bitterness of the afternoon black tea was soothing, even if it was starting to grow cold in the cup.

Tibor ran his fingers over yours in an attempt to be loving. “Maybe we’ve been in the sun too long. If you like we can relocate to the gazebo?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said with a tight, red lipped smile. “I think I might just be getting tired over all. Perhaps today will have to be cut short. I’m sorry, Tibor.”

“Of course, darling,” you hated how he said that word, so full of false romance and sativa sweetness, “whatever you need.” He patted your hand which only made you hate him more.

When he lifted his hand for another pat you slipped it out from under his grip and touched it to your cheek, tilting your head to one side to look particularly adorable. “Oh, Tibor, you are so considerate. I’ll call my driver to pick me up, I know you are busy so I don’t want to keep you.”

Tibor stood, in a fashion that seemed a bit too quick if you were asked, and moved to your side. “Are you sure? I don’t mind being a bit late for my meeting for you, darling.”

He put a hand on the side of your face and you wanted to vomit. “I’m sure. It wouldn’t be good for the image of the company for a junior partner to be late to a meeting. I completely understand.”

“You are such an angel.” Tibor leaned down and went to place a kiss on your lips, but coyly you turned your head just in time. To his credit, he realized and paused just a second before following through and kissing you on the cheek. “You’re always so shy,” he teased, staying in close proximity as he did so.

“Oh, Tibor. You know that I’m too shy to kiss in public.” A convenient lie. One you had established early on when he had kissed you without warning in front of several influential family friends. It hadn’t been particularly good, and you wanted to avoid such things in the future. Luckily remembering how awkward you had felt that day was enough to tinge your cheeks with pink.

Hesitating another moment, he kissed your cheek again before standing straight. “Please let me know when you make it home safely.”

“Naturally. I might do some errands first but I will make sure to tell you,” you replied in a tenor that was all too high and bubbly.

But he seemed pacified. With a satisfied nod he turned and left the garden as he pulled out his cell phone and called his driver.

The moment his back was around another topiary and out of sight you sat back in your chair in a somewhat undignified manner, feeling exhausted. The wedding was supposed to be in three months, but it felt like you were being choked with a collar of duty already. It had only been a month that this whole engagement had been put into place and already you were contemplating suicide.

Just the way you thought that made your mind reel back a month and a half ago to a lavish party where you saw your first dead body, slumped across a hard wood desk. The dark and cold eyes of his killer watching your every move. His dark hair pulled up into a ponytail and when it swayed you wanted to reach up and free the strands from their prison.

That had somehow helped you to feel grounded. The touch of the sun’s warmth on your arms was reassuring, but also beginning to grow too hot.

“Madam, are you finished with your tea?” a neutral toned butler asked, placing a testing hand on the teapot in front of you.

“Ah, yes. I am. Please take it all away. I’ll be going momentarily,” you replied, collecting your clutch purse from the table. “Thank you.”

The butler nodded politely and began to collect the cups and saucers from the table as you carefully slid from your seat and brushed the dust off of your skirt. “Seems too nice a day to go right home, I suppose I’ll walk about first,” you announced out of habit.

“A good idea, madam,” the butler assured with a bow before he turned to take the dirty lunch plates back to the garden’s main building where the kitchen resided.

You were glad that despite having chosen a nice sundress for the day, your shoes were very comfortable. You easily navigated towards the next garden section, away from the bright colored flowers into a more shaded area with tree coverage and benches next to dirt paths.

It was fortunate that many people didn’t like to come onto these little hidden sections, choosing instead to keep to the stone paths around the more conventional attractions. The dirt under your shoes crunched softly and the white noise made you smile as you slipped your sunglasses off, not feeling the need for them in the cover of the trees.

Birds sang out above you, and you whistled in response back before giggling at yourself for behaving like a child. But these little moments of solitude were quickly becoming the only time you felt anything like… yourself. Whoever she was. The person behind the giggles, poised movements, and well-defined makeup.

Was there more to you than all that anymore?

The bird that had just been communicating with you suddenly flew off, followed by several of its friends and you paused to turn around so you could watch them go. “That’s… odd,” you muttered as a black feather fell from the sky and slowly danced its way to the ground in front of you.

You looked back the way you had previously been going, trying to see if you could notice anything unusual- like a large dog- but nothing made itself known down the garden path. Something inside of you whispered, ‘Not that way.’

“Best not to question that,” you said aloud, turning on your heel and going down an alternate path. You hadn’t been persuaded to completely leave this shaded refuge, but you also were a smart enough person to listen to intuition.

If intuition had succeeded, you weren’t sure. The animals were rather quiet for a good stretch of your walk in this direction also. The heavy silence of the trees only being broken up by your footsteps was starting to finally get to you after a few minutes and you were starting to think to turn and go back instead of continuing to where the path would fork in about 20 yards. One of the forks would lead back towards the center of the garden where you could summon your car to take you home, and now it would be shorter than turning around. But was it safe to press on?

You stopped considering your options when the sound of heavy footfall on the dirt path in front of you tingled your ears. The realization of how the animals had been behaving hit you, they had all sensed a danger. While the steps sounded to be a human gait, who could they belong to?

The very real sense of possible danger slipped into your mind and you felt just a little scared. But just as you had the night you saw the body of Mr. Vojtech, there was also a sharp and distinct feeling of excitement as well. What if it was someone that wanted to hurt you? What if they took you away?

The notation was rather electrifying.

Black boots came around a dense bush ahead and you held your breath as the familiar form of Illumi Zoldyck merged from the lush forest fauna. He looked even more breathtaking than you remembered. Dressed for a day of walking around in nature with black boots, long pants, and a short-sleeved shirt. To your utter dismay his hair was also tied back into a loose ponytail. Not as high and tight as the first time you had met him, but not yet flowing in black water around his face.

You felt that cliché ‘rabbit frozen under a wolf’s gaze’ as you stood in front of Illumi, hands clasped over each other on your bag in front of your chest where they had subconsciously gone while you waited to see who would turn the corner. Slowly, to make it look deliberate, you lowered your hands to your waist, resting them naturally in a manner you had practiced since you were six.

Illumi stopped as he noticed you and visibly his posture relaxed just little. His shoulders sank to a natural relaxed position and the poise of the elegant man you had met at the party resumed instantaneously. “Miss. [last name], I’m glad that I found you here,” he said with a tint of a happy tone.

“Illumi?” you asked, and instantly regretted. How stupid was that to say? You licked your lower lip, noticing the slight increase in your heart rate, “I mean… Mr. Zoldyck. What are you doing here?”

Thoughtfully, he looked up into the trees and a slight wind rustled the leaves above the two of you. It was almost picturesque how the leaves separated just enough for some light to sneak through and land on Illumi’s white skin. A hand delicately brushed an escaped strand of hair away from his face from where the wind had pushed it. As the wind settled, he looked down to you again, letting his hand naturally fall to his side. “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” he asked conversationally.

“Yes, it is,” you replied with an impulsive smile that always came to you naturally during small talk. “It almost seems too nice of a day though. That feeling of something being too perfect to be real.”

He moved towards you with a fluid grace that felt out of place in this environment of dirt and greenery. Even the most cultured men you had met never moved with natural fluidity as Illumi. For him it was if he was in his element wherever he went.

It kind of made a girl jealous.

“You seem bothered,” he put a hand delicately on top of yours that were still clasped tight over your purse. “Did I frighten you?”

His look of concern as he tilted his head to one side made you feel a tiny sense of reassurance, until you remembered Illumi was an assassin. The thought of him killing you still didn’t seem to bother you, despite the slight fear you had felt just moments ago. But some part of you knew you shouldn’t take reassurance from a trained killer.

The tips of his fingers stayed with your hands as you responded, and for some reason that added to your growing calm. “Yes. I’m sorry but you did. I didn’t expect… well anyone, but especially not you out this far from the central area.”

A slight amiable smile slid onto his face as he removed his hand from yours to put it naturally onto his hip. “I frequent this garden when I am in town for business. It isn’t as expansive as where I live though. But I guess when you don’t have that option you have to make do.” You nodded understanding the need to get away from people very well yourself. “What brings you out to the garden today, Miss. [last name]?”

“Oh, I was meeting,” for a flash of a moment between words you thought about lying, but something inside of you told you to tell the truth, “my fiancé.” Your voice had dropped noticeably from start to finish. Mentally you scolded yourself for losing face in from of the handsome Illumi. But you hadn’t wanted to admit why you were in the garden. In some silly fantasy in your head the assassin would one day ask you to dance again and perhaps try to kiss you.

You would let Illumi kiss you in public, you thought to yourself. Just the thought of a party of people seeing that sight and knowing you had escaped a marriage to the stodgy Tibor filled you with excitement, and perhaps just a touch of lust. Lust both for the moment of thrill kissing him in front of a room full of people, and lust of a more sexual nature that lurked below your more girlish desires.

He frowned. It was noticeable. “You don’t sound very happy about that,” he stated.

Manners dictated that you corrected him. ‘No, I’m very happy about my engagement.’ ‘Tibor is a perfect match for me. I worry I’m too boring for him!’ Something along any of those lines, but you couldn’t. The shame you felt for not being able to complete your duty in front of Illumi got to you and your eyes slid down to the dirt. The fingers that were laced over one another on your clutch tightened.

“Miss. [last name]?”

“I don’t have any interest in my fiancé. His family is old money, invested in my own family’s corporation even. But… I feel nothing for him.” You paused, feeling more and more childish as you stood there not looking at the man in front of you.

‘You are acting like a spoiled little girl! Get it together,’ you chided yourself mentally as you forced your eyes back to up look at Illumi who was watching you silently. The same leveled expression as the day he had watched you wonder into the scene of his own work. You labored a smile back into place. “But you have to do what you can for your family, right?”

He was quiet. No response came from him as he stood before you, potentially thinking about your sincerity? Finally, he moved next to you and offered his right arm out for you to take. “I want to walk you back to the front of the garden.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have distracted you from your nice day.” The denial of his time came so naturally that it was as if you hadn’t slipped up in your decorum at all.

“I insist.”

You took his arm with a hand, slipping it around his forearm and to his wrist. “Okay,” you muttered softly, feeling your body instantly react to touching his again. It was so slight, just like when you had danced, but you felt so alive. Excited was too simple of a word, but it was all you could think of as he started to walk the way he had come from. As you turned the corner away from the where you had been speaking, the memory of the fleeing animals so far from your mind that it could have happened a lifetime ago, you were grateful for your sunhat. Not only did the trees open back up shortly after that turn, but Illumi would be unable to see your cheeks as they turned an iconic pink.

“May I ask you a question, Mr. Zoldyck?”

“Yes. But I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

That seemed a fair response considering his life. “I hear you have siblings. Are you also the eldest?”

You couldn’t be sure as you weren’t looking at him, but Illumi sounded pleased. “Yes. I have three younger brothers.”

“Younger siblings are wonderful, aren’t they?” you said more to yourself than to Illumi. “I have one younger brother and one youngest sister myself. They can be… annoying sometimes, but I prefer a world where they are my siblings to one without them.” You laughed a little to yourself as you remembered your little sister at the age of 8 when she accidentally killed her pet fish by taking it out of the tank. “They remind you of how amazing the world can be. Learning things that you have known for years makes the world fresh for you.”

What sounded like a chuckle came from Illumi. “That is true. Watching my brothers grow up definitely has reminded me of some things.”

You wanted to ask what exact thing he was thinking of, but you didn’t want to push your luck. You had gotten at least this much and it felt like a bounty of information from an assassin.

Truth be told, you had tried to search the net for more information about the family after the chance encounter at the dance. But very little came up. The mountain they lived on was very public knowledge, how many supposable family members there were was public- but the sources weren’t ever sure.

“You didn’t ask me if you were my target this time,” Illumi pointed out as the front of the garden house came into view, a few couples leaving together having finished their own lunches and strolls. The woman you saw earlier now wore her fuchsia gloxinia in her hair like a prize. As she slid into her car the man that had been with her held the door open and watched her go with a smile. Your chest ached, and you gripped Illumi’s arm.

“I didn’t feel it mattered,” you responded. The ache in your chest was spreading and suddenly you felt a little sick in your stomach.

Illumi placed his left hand over yours and you looked up enough to see him just past the brim of your hat. “Are you alright?”

You noticed then your pace had slowed considerably. “Probably too much sun,” you told him realizing you felt somewhat sick. “Just sun sickness. I’ll be fine. Oh, I still need to call my driver! I was enjoying our conversation, so I forgot.”

Keeping up with Illumi, he urged your pace to quicken back to what it had been previously, and you matched it even though your stomach was starting to turn. “Don’t worry about that. You will just take my car.”

As the two of you approached the driveway, a black sedan pulled up and stopped perfectly in front of your path. A young woman with hair as black as Illumi’s stepped out of the driver’s seat. She seemed very pretty to you, with a serious face as she moved around the car to open the door with a slight bow at the waist.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you said as Illumi led you up to the door. But in spite of your words you let yourself be urged to the car, and Illumi held your hand to steady yourself as you slid into the backseat. “Thank you,” you said sheepishly from the comfort of the car seat.

He nodded at your words and lifted a hand towards the woman still holding the door open. “Amane will take you where ever you need to go. Just give her the address.”

“What about you, Mr. Zoldyck?”

“I have some business to attend to and Amane will return for me.”

Amane nodded at Illumi to show she heard him, and on some unspoken order she left to return to the driver seat. “Well… if you insist. Thank you. I do hope that we can meet again Mr. Zoldyck.”

“Of course. I still plan to claim another dance,” he said with a smirk that you couldn’t quite place the intentions behind before he shut the car door and Amane directed the car away from the curb.

You muttered to the dark-haired woman your address before laying your head back on your seat. The ability to rest instead of walking was a real relief as the car made its way around the city back towards your home. You ran over the events of the afternoon. Dull Tibor, the nice walk, the birds, and running into Illumi.

Some part of you realized that he hadn’t asked you to take his arm so much as told you to. It should have taken your notice at the time, such a bold act against decorum. But, it had seemed so in place.

A fresh wave of feeling very ill rushed you and you were forced to stop the train of thought as you sat up again to try and stay focused on pushing past the feeling. Had you really gotten that much sun today? Perhaps lunch had been to heavy for such a warm day.

Grateful to see the building your family condo was in on the horizon was an understatement. Usually in the summer your family was in the summer home in the country, but with the engagement and many business matters coming up for the next month you had all been somewhat forced to stay where you were for the time being.

Amane pulled up in front of the doors perfectly. In fact, all of her driving had been perfect and perhaps was the only reason you weren’t feeling worse. “Thank you, Amane,” you told her as the doorman of your building came to the car and opened the door.

“You’re very welcome, Miss. [last name].”

A gloved hand offered itself down to you, and more than grateful for the assistance you took it. The black sedan left as soon as the door was firmly shut by the doorman and you made way inside to a blissfully controlled temperature environment that did a lot to help you feel better.

Stepping into the condo off of the elevator was a relief, and you didn’t remember much of making your way through to your room- kicking off your shoes and ditching your hat in an unceremoniously, bad-mannered fashion- but when you woke up at 3am you felt disoriented but much better.

You even managed to eat some food in the quiet kitchen, unsure of which family members where home and their state of unconsciousness. But admittedly you didn’t quite care as you nibbled some toast and egg. The gentleness of the toast was a nice carrier to the egg protein that you felt like you needed as your empty feeling stomach gurgled loudly.

The sound of someone saying your name caught your attention as the elevator doors slid shut in the front of the condo. You had been so out of it that you hadn’t even heard the elevator announce itself. Maybe you really had been sick. You abandoned your second piece of toast to investigate who was calling you, though your stomach groaned in remorse.

Your father stood in the living room, looking exhausted but happy to be home in his familiar environment as he let his body fall into a stuffed chair. You had only seen him throw himself about like that two other times in your life, so it was startling. “Daddy? What’s wrong?” you asked, going to sit on the sofa nearest to the chair.

“I’m glad you are up,” he said, rubbing his eyes as before righting himself so that while he was still lounging he was doing so with slightly better posture.

“I slept a lot longer than I had meant to. I didn’t feel very well when I came home from lunch with Tibor.”

His lips fell even further into a frown as he looked at you. For a moment you wondered if it was slight disapproval that you were still in your sundress at 3:30 in the morning. “Did I miss something important?” It had been a rare day off for you, not having to attend any meetings with your father or do any social calls- other than Tibor- for the sake of the company. So the paranoia that perhaps you had forgotten something in your enjoyment of the day easily slid over you as you mentally went back through your calendar.

“Do you like Tibor Waterman?”

The question struck you as a bit odd, but you responded quickly, “He is a perfectly fine gentleman.”

“That isn’t what I asked.” The serious and strong tone of your father hit you with a force you hadn’t felt since he scolded you as child. “Darling,” he slid forward in his chair to be level with your eyes, “Do you like Tibor?”

The corner of your mouth turned down and you gripped the hem of your dress in your hands tightly. “No. I find him boring. He has no personality, his attraction to me is played up in such a way that makes me feel like a useless doll, and I don’t find him handsome in the least.”

“But still you would marry him?”

You nodded. “Of course. It’s what is good for the family right? Perhaps…. With enough time together I can start to find some of his charms.” Unconsciously your eyes slid away from your father’s to the glass coffee table. The images of marrying Tibor flitted across your mind. Seeing him every morning over coffee, getting texts from him while you worked on data sheets and letters, him making you have lunch together almost every day, coming home and having to slide into bed next to him.

His hands on your naked body.

It made a sense of dread wash over you. If white noise had a physical feeling it would be as if you were wrapped up in that. But you forced yourself to think of anything positive about him, trying to cope with the outlook of the future. His hair was nice. You touched it once when you had kissed his cheek. And maybe with time you could find the movies he showed you interesting.

“Darling,” your father called, and you snapped out of a mental image of trying to find joy in your dull marriage to look at him again. “The wedding is canceled.”

#illumi zoldyck//#hunter x hunter//#star fic #WHY NOT HAVE TWO SERIES? EEHHH?#this was unnofficially requested #crimson dance card #star fic series

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faeriesim-blog · 5 years

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Introducing Maxine Hearthfire

Maxine knew magic lingered in her family.

She didn't remember a lot about her father. He had passed away when she was very young. When she tried to think of him, all she could conjure were wiffs of aftershave and a rolling laugh, like the most joyous thunder. It made her feel warm to think about It. But the memories stopped there entirely.

It was her, her mother, and her grandmother, for almost her entire life. Then, she turned 18, and her mother and grandmother sat her down to talk.

"Your father asked us to give you this letter when you became an adult." Her mother said in her familiar voice. The kind of voice that always put Max at ease. And then she handed Maxine an old, worn letter sealed with swirling purple and blue wax, a golden key on a star-spangled chain, and a letter opener shaped like a dagger.

It was the deed to a house in a place called 'Glimmerbrook.'

The letter was filled with fond words and the nostalgic smell of that aftershave - a little earthy, with maybe a hint of apples and cinnamon? - and the condition that Maxine could have the Glimmerbrook Watch as her first home, if she could unlock her own magical abilities and become a spellcaster.

The girl traveled from Windenburg to Glimmerbrook, an odd mixture of confident and anxious. She walked along the road until she came to what seemed to be little more than an empty lot. The area looked very much how it had been described in the letter - flourishing with flowers, mushrooms, and other plants, with a gorgeous winding creek that cut through. It was much, much smaller than Windenburg, and considerably more remote. Unlike home, Maxine couldn't hear the sounds of cars as they frequently drove past, couldn't hear the chatter of crowds, and couldn't hear the thrumming heartbeat of music, barely contained in a club building - because none of these things were there! There was nothing but the peace and quiet, the sound of running waters and the chittering of animals as they spoke in their own languages.

She approached the empty lot and looked around. There was something that sounded somewhat musical, but not in the conventional way. It was not the kind of music that Maxine so frequently sung and danced to. It was something far different. Something she had heard in her dreams.

The girl followed the noise, as she walked along the creek. She stopped when she came to a cliff, where the creek spilled down into a waterfall. On the edge of that cliff, sitting upon flat, dry rock, was a stone archway. The archway was filled with lights like Max had never seen. Bewitchingly bright and colourful, it was as though she had been transformed into a moth, drawn into these otherworldly flames.

The girl walked towards the archway, and held her breath. With eyes wide open, she stepped in.

The place in which she appeared was unlike any she had seen in the waking world, though she was sure she had drempt about it many times. Stone and wooden buildings, many of which were in ruins, were suspended upon floating rock in what appeared to be a sunless starry space. The largest building of all stood tall in front of the girl, beckoning her to come closer.

She ascended the steps and found herself in a cavernous room, where bright, glowing runes were carved into the walls and the floors. The sounds of conversation echoed in the building, along with an odd bubbling that Maxine could only compare to a brook - but somehow thicker, and louder. There was also another noise she couldn't quite place, like bells or wind chimes but more faint, more ethereal somehow, and more instant.

Maxine moved into the room, and felt both at home and out of place - perhaps because it was a new environment, and an incredibly overwhelming one at that. There were archways on all walls, and without really thinking about it much, the girl turned to go through the one on her right. There were a few people in this room, some with wands which they waved through the air, leaving trails of sparkling fireworks, others with books in their hands, intently studying. The most eye catching thing, however, was the cauldron, that looked as though it were big enough to be a bathtub - maybe even bigger? Only one person loomed over this cauldron, intently studying the contents, and occasionally flicking herbs and spices into the bubbling mass within.

For some reason, the man at the cauldron was the one Maxine was most drawn to. She stepped forward and watched him for a few minutes, before timidly clearing her throat in an attempt to catch his attention. Without looking at her, the man spoke in an alarmingly deep voice.

"Yes?"

Maxine stepped back, a bit in surprise, before she recovered and found her voice. "Uh... Hi, my name is M-Max. Maxine. Maxine Hearthfire. I've come to learn how to use magic."

The man looked her up and down, and raised a brow. "A Hearthfire, eh? My name is Simeon Silversweater, the Sage of Practical Magic. Are you sure you're ready to learn how to use magic?" He asked her, his gaze piercing as he sized her up.

The girl knew she was, and yet the weight of his gaze was heavy. She swallowed, and closed her eyes. The sound of her father's laughter played in her mind, and her memory conjured that familiar smell of aftershave. Maxine opened her eyes and gave a sharp nod. "Yes. I was born ready."

The man examined her for but a moment longer. He wasn't particularly frightening in appearance - quite the opposite, actually. Once copper-brown hair, now streaked with silver, was tied back into a neat ponytail. Crows feet framed his eyes, as a reward for years of laughter. He dressed a bit more "normally" as it were, compared to other people in this realm. Max did not feel uneasy in his presence.

"Very well. Open your eyes wide, and stand back." He said, as he took out an elegant wand from a pocket inside of his coat. He flicked it, and Maxine saw a starburst explode before her eyes, clouding her vision. She blinked, and suddenly she could see again. Her hand reached upwards, and she brushed her fingertips just below her eye.

"What did you do? Am I magic now? Did you make me magical?"

The man laughed, a sound that was eerily similar to the laugh she remembered. "I did not make you magical. You already have it within you, waiting to be unlocked. No, no, I did something different." He gestured for Maxine to follow him, and so she did. The two walked through another room, very similar to the one they were in before - filled with stone, another giant cauldron, and bookshelves to line the walls. They walked until they had stepped outside, and their boots sunk into impossibly soft grass. "See anything?"

Maxine peered out at the pathway before them. Sitting in the middle of the path, ignored by all others who walked along it, was a glowing purple orb. "What is that?" She asked.

"It is a mote." Simeon explained. "I have given you mote sight. Find and collect seven of those, and bring them to me. Do this, and I will unlock your magic." He stated. Maxine looked back at him, her brows knit. The man gently nudged her by the small of her back, towards the object in the pathway. "Go on, now, the spell won't last forever."

Maxine approached it, and sunk her hand into its glow. She found it to be a relatively small object, which she could easily store in her bag. It was cool to the touch, and was almost inviting. She smiled softly, and then peeled her eyes for more. They were very easy to spot, and oddly ignored by everyone else.

The girl wandered across this strange, floating island in the sky, looking under large leaves and flower petals, around toadstools whose caps were big enough for her to sit on, and rather quickly collected the seven motes. Was this supposed to be difficult? Because it wasn't. With her prizes, she walked back to the large building, and wandered its vast halls and corridors, until she found Simeon once more.

"Ah, I see you've collected them already?" He asked her, a hint of cheer in his voice and a smile on his lips that exaggerated his crows feet. Maxine nodded.

"Give them here, then." He said, and held his hands out to her. The girl dropped the seven motes between his palms, and watched as he tucked them away in his bag. "Very good, very good indeed. Alright, I made a promise, didn't I?" He asked her, and waved his wrist at the others in the room to silently communicate for them to stand back. Maxine watched him with eager eyes, as he brandished his wand once more.

He waved it, a bit more enthusiastically than the first time, and spoke words the girl did not understand. There was a hammering in her chest as her heartbeat quickened, and the tingling sensation of adrenaline flowed into her bloodstream. The girl felt the ground disappear underneath her feet, as Simeon pointed his wand towards her. The rest of the room melted away, so that she could only see him, and she could hear nothing but his words. A strange, indescribable popping noise filled her skull, and the world around her was encased in black, for the briefest second.

Then, she could see the room around her, hear the whispers and the bubbling of the many cauldrons nearby, and feel the stone underneath her boots once more. "Welcome, young Apprentice." Simeon said, as though greeting an old friend with a fond smile that filled his face.

Maxine spent some time wandering the Headquarters, observing the other spellcasters and, eventually, the other two sages. She kept her distance from L. Faba, the Sage of Mischief Magic, as the woman was... intimidating, at least to her, but Max found herself to feel quite the opposite about the third sage - Morgyn Ember. She was oddly drawn to this particular spellcaster, the Sage of Untamed magic. The feeling, however, was not mutual. Morgyn had little to no interest in a mere apprentice.

After a little exploration in the building and the grounds, Maxine returned and found Simeon, who showed her that there were other Archway portals. "The one in the middle will of course take you back home. The one to the east will take you to the Casters Alley, where you can purchase supplies like wands, brooms, familiars and more. The one to the north will take you to the Dueling Grounds, and the one to the west... Well, that one's just the Gardens." Maxine listened to Simeon with rapt attention, and knew the Caster's Alley would be her first stop.

That evening (well, it felt like evening because she was tired, but she couldn't exactly tell since there was no sun in the Magic Realm) Maxine went to the Casters alley. There were three shops in total that sat at the bottom of the many towering, spindly wooden buildings. Maxine watched with fascination as what appeared to be fireworks shot out from a tall, thin chimney. Then, she approached the shops.

Each stall was run by a ghost, which she found alarming, at first. Of course, everything about her surroundings was alarming, like the fact that she didn't know what would happen if she walked to the edge of one of these islands and simply... fell off.

But this was something different entirely. Ghosts were whispered about, where she was from, and people had claimed to see them around Windenburg, but the girl had never looked upon one with her own eyes. And now there were three, here to sell her wands and brooms and other magical knick knacks!

In the end, Maxine got three things - First, her wand. She chose a long white one, topped with a big golden star. Then, she picked out a broom. She decided upon the one that looked like the branch of a tree, all twisted and knobby. Finally, she got to choose her familiar, and decided upon a spotted sixam which she named Curio. She simply couldn't help but admire the celestial pattern in the creature's beautiful blue feathers. She had read about such birds in many books, both fantasy and non-fiction, and the fact that she was now bound to one brought her great joy.

With her wand in her pocket, Curio flying over her shoulder, and her broom strapped to her back, the newly made spellcaster entered through the portal to her own world. Maxine stepped into a nighttime illuminated by a full moon, and took a deep breath to fill her lungs with cool autumn air. That was when it occurred to her that she had no idea where she was meant to sleep that night. Her father had spoken of a new home in his letter, and she had even been given a key, but... A key to where?

She retraced her steps with the intention of returning to the road where her mother had dropped her off, and that was when she saw it. What had once been an empty lot was now occupied by a tiny, rectangular cottage. The doors and windows were filled with stained glass of blues and purples, and patterns of stars and moons, reminiscent of the great windows in the spellcaster's Headquarters. Ivy and wisteria crawled along the brick, and reached for the curved roof. Lavender surrounded the front, and added a sweetness to the dewy night air.

Maxine approached this home, with her hand wrapped tightly around the golden key that hung on her neck. The lights were on. What if someone lived here? Maybe she was wrong, and was intruding...

But there was an odd pull towards that door, as though Maxine was connected to it by a tether. She approached it, and slipped the key off of her neck. It fitted perfectly into the lock of the door, which clicked open with a resonating sound.

The door opened and revealed an inviting warmth. Maxine crossed the threshold with Curio over her shoulder, and the door closed quietly behind them.

Plants hung from the ceiling and the walls, as though to dry. There was a smell of firewood, and something like pumpkin being baked in an oven, that banished the chill of the night. In the room she stood in, Max saw a table with a small chair next to a filled bookshelf, and another, more plump chair next to a small dresser. Atop the dresser was a crystal ball, and a tiny metal speaker. To her right was an archway, which revealed a tiny kitchen. On top of the stove was a loaf of freshly baked bread. Maxine could see chunks of fruit within, and her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything since that morning.

A doorway in the kitchen lead to an even tinier bathroom, where sat an old clawfoot bathtub that she was particularly excited about. When she returned to the sitting room, she noticed the last door, which she imagined could have been only one thing. When she entered the room, she found she was correct.

Maxine stepped into a lush and vividly coloured bedroom. A twin bed, swathed in velvety green blankets, sat before the biggest window in the house, which was almost obscured by matching curtains. In front of the bed was a large dresser, where sat a case for her wand, a few books and plants, and a light comprised of a crystal that floated within a golden ring. On the wall above the dresser was a moon chart. In the corner of the room stood a tall, beautiful hand-carved mirror, with a small table next to it that held candles and a deck of tarot cards. Next to the door was a green chest.

The girl took in the details of this room - the way her boots sunk into the thick rug, the softness of the blankets, the smell of incense which seemed to come from nowhere. It was only when she sat upon the bed that she noticed an odd crunch under her thigh, and found herself to have sat upon a piece of folded paper. She opened this, and felt hot tears spring to her eyes when she discovered it was yet another letter from her father.

'Maxine,

This was my home when I was your age. My home when I began my magical journey. If you're reading this now, it means that it has become your home, too. This is where I studied and practiced my magic, and it is where you will too. I've hidden it away, so that time could not touch it until you opened that door. So that when you enter it, it will be exactly as I had left it.

I wish I could know what path it is that you choose to take. I wish I could watch your progress, see your journey, see you grow. Know that wherever I am, I'm cheering you on, and I love you so, so much. Forever and always.

All my love,

Dad'

The rest of the night was spent in an odd flurry of tears and fruit-filled bread, before Maxine bathed and then collapsed in her new bed. When she awoke, it was with a new determination. It was time to start her journey in becoming a master of magic, to do her father proud.

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr #oc #original character #realm of magic #sims 4 realm of magic #sims 4 simblr

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ooihcnoiwlerh · 5 years

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The Dirt!Tommy Lee imagine Pt 1

So I made a post a week ago mentioning a dream I had that inspired this very long fic of which I’m posting this first part. I want to preface this by saying that while I really enjoyed The Dirt as a movie, I also don’t want to glamorize or ignore the faults of the men behind Motley Crue. I’ve also never written fanfiction about a musician, let alone fanfiction about a slightly fictionalized version of a musician. And this is definitely more about the film version of Tommy Lee than the man himself.

She was fresh out of college and brand new in LA, applying for work and living on someone’s couch when she first heard them, and she was hooked.

Sher certainly enjoyed the sound, which reminded her a little of the independent punk scene back in New York, but the look of it—the theatricality of it—inspired her. Four years studying production design with the hopes of applying it to a film and theatre career, she decided, led her here to these people. They had massive budget ideas with limited money for a limited space and she wanted to help them expand.

She kept trying to work up the courage to speak with them, and found herself choking up every time. She, unlike they, was not a performer, not comfortable inserting herself into a group. She lacked the confidence of some of the other women in the crowd who slipped their way into dressing rooms and raised their skirt just so. Part of her had thought about emulating them—after her first concert she found herself paying more attention to the gangly, animated drummer over the strutting blond lead singer before dismissing the thought. She had something these other women couldn’t offer. The band wouldn’t take her seriously if she offered to fuck them first. She continued on sending her resume out, and, just to widen her prospects, started applying to record labels.

Tom Zutaut sought her out first—he felt that her youth and interest in the music scene would lend her some credibility with the band once they signed over to Elektra. He assured her that they would appreciate her vision.

She sat down and spoke with them for the first time at a restaurant with her portfolio tucked under her arm and her nerves ringing as she prepared her speech on how she appreciated the band’s vision and how her visual style would work well for them on tour. She glanced between every face: Mick Mars and his aloof, unimpressed demeanor and folded arms; Nikki Sixx and his quirked brow and slight smirk; Vince Neil and his smug grin; Tommy Lee and his frenetic energy and eager smile. She focused on him and what she saw as a friendly, open face as she opened her portfolio to show her rough sketches…

…and felt a pair of hands slide along the inside of her thighs and push her knees apart.

She flinched and rose, but not before the men at the table snickered and a woman poked her head out from under the table.

“I’m used to sucking dick,” the woman said, grinning, “but I could go either way.”

Y/N glanced at the men at the table and realized this was a test of sorts. Could she handle this environment? She was certain of it. She also knew she didn’t want a stranger to go down on her in semi-public.

Y/N cleared her throat. “You know, sweetheart, I am so flattered. But these are leather pants I’d have to push down to my knees and I just don’t know if I want my bare ass on this seat,” she said as she sat back down.

It was the best she could do, and apparently it was enough. After a round of shots and some cursory glances at some of Y/N’s plans, Motley Crue had an artist ready to go on tour with them.

………..

“You sure you can handle this?” Doc asks as they get ready; the boys have their own accommodations, better rooms and first class on the monstrosity that the company calls a tour bus. There are no other women present save for Vince’s latest girlfriend—all seamstresses and make-up artists are present at each venue. They don’t travel with the band.

Y/N laughs. “I’m from New Jersey, Doc. I’ll be fine.”

Doc doesn’t look convinced. “Listen, obviously I spoke to the guys and they do have some respect for you; see you as more than, you know...”

“A groupie.” She hopes there’s no venom behind those words; she doesn’t hate any of the women that cling to the band and she imagines it would be pointless to get angry over how frequently they stay and how disposable they become. To get angry with a band for having groupies, she reasons, is like getting angry at a Western movie for having horses.

She doesn’t hate them, at least, she thinks she doesn’t. But she likes Tommy’s unmatched energy and lanky body and playful grin. She hears stories about his stamina and size and it is more difficult to ignore the whispers about him than it is about Vince and Nikki. Mick, it seems, dismisses any sort of physical contact. Y/N imagines it would be prudent to do the same. She’s the only woman on the production team and is fully aware how easy it would be for everyone to resent her more than they already do.

“Yeah. Exactly,” Doc says. “You’re not like them. You’re here to work.”

“I know, Doc.” Y/N gestures towards her books of sketches and layouts. “I know.”

……..

None of this is to say that Y/N doesn’t interact with the band at all. As she anticipated, it’s something of a collaborative effort. Nikki in particular has a lot of ideas about staging and costumes that go into effect. Granted, Motley Crue itself appears to be his brainchild, and he’s in charge of most of the creative decisions. He’s smart (although he’d be loath to describe himself as such) he’s attractive; he’s talented. Y/N imagines that in another world she would be more drawn to him than she is. But she’s not; she appreciates his mind and the work, and she hopes that he thinks the same of her.

She wears long pants and jackets most of the time; she seldom wears more than the slightest bit of makeup on tour and she doesn’t try to give the appearance of curves to her slight frame where there aren’t any. She never gives off the impression that she is sexually available, and as a result she’s left alone.

Vince ignores her. Mick is about as pleasant towards her as he is capable of being towards anyone, and Y/N appreciates his candor. She’s told he has a condition that causes constant, often excruciating pain and isn’t sure how to design a set to accommodate him, as if he’d ever accept the help. Nikki is usually somewhat well-behaved around her, even as he knows he doesn’t have to censor himself and that Doc will sometimes complain to her about his coke binges and public indecency. She doesn’t need him to tell her; she stays in the same hotels and when one or more is up to a set of antics she can plainly hear it from her room.

Tommy is playful; there are times she could swear he was flirting, and she cannot tell if he’s joking or not. She also can’t tell if, if he is flirting, whether it’s because he’s attracted to her or because any woman of an appropriate age and decent appearance is a potential one-night stand. A cum dumpster.

She should separate herself. She should keep a professional distance.

She goes to parties with them sometimes and does shots with them that have her staggering and slurring her words long before they’re down for the count and wakes up with hangovers that make her fear opening her mouth. She’s still tamer than they are and abstains from hard drugs and day drinking. She wishes Tommy luck before shows and listens to all of his ideas, good and bad. There’s no greater feeling than his excitement when she puts one of his ideas into practice.

She has sex one night with a tall man with long dark hair who isn’t Tommy but in the dark and after whiskey could be close enough for a few minutes. She can pretend, for a moment, that it’s he who’s inside her, gasping as he comes and holding her hips in a bruising grip. She sneaks out of his room at five AM and heads back to her hotel.

When there she pulls her pants down and brings her fingers to her clit and thinks about him; his tongue, his cock inside of her and his lips on her clit everything finally being right. Alone in a hotel she finds the release she couldn’t get with a pale imitation of what she wanted.

The shame sets in seconds after her climax. She groans as she wipes her fingers off on her inner thigh and tries to ignore the pull in her gut as she kicks her pants off the rest of the way and somehow manages to sleep.

……….

Tommy starts dating a girl named Roxie. Tommy has had casual girlfriends as long as Y/N can remember. He seems to fall for every girl who shows him attention and soon forgets each one.

Y/N could say that she doesn’t like Roxie because it’s clear Roxie doesn’t really care about him, that she doesn’t know him and just wants to cling to someone with fame and power. And all those things are true; she doesn’t trust Roxie nor does she expect her to stick around. She says nothing, though, because what really eats at her is how much she resents the hell out of Tommy being so devoted to her.

Tommy introduces his parents to Y/N first, though. Not because she’s the most important, of course, but because she’s the first familiar face he sees after Doc as he’s giving his parents a tour of the set.

Tommy has mentioned his parents; his mother, a Greek immigrant and former beauty contestant and his father, an army vet. They seem too polite, too conventional for this place and yet Y/N can immediately see how someone like Tommy was able to emerge from what appeared to be a typical suburban upbringing; they clearly love him for everything he is. So she likes them and tries to stay composed when Tommy brushes his hand along the small of her back to introduce her.

“This is Y/N. She makes the magic happen. The lights, the dancers, the backdrop, all her ideas.”

Y/N laughs. “Not entirely true; it’s more collaborative than that. I just draw up the plans and make sure we have the right people and equipment to make them possible.”

“You storyboarded our first music video. Take some credit!” Tommy insists.

Y/N preens under the attention even as she tries to avoid what must be Mrs. Bass’s knowing gaze. “If you insist,” she says. “The business card says ‘production designer,’” she adds for the parents’s benefit.

“And you’re not married?” Tommy’s mother asks.

Y/N can feel herself blush. “Oh, no. Not at all!” she tries to laugh it off. “Got hired for the portfolio and I’ve been on board since.” She hears distantly Tommy gently admonish his mother and it doesn’t quite register. She should get out of here. His mother can probably tell what she thinks of her son and could easily bring it up. “Well, it was wonderful meeting you both,” she adds before finding an excuse to leave.

………..

“Did you hear Tommy proposed to Roxie?” Nikki asks as Y/N shows him several plans for the next leg of their tour.

Y/N feels like she’s been kicked in the gut. She keeps her face in repose and manages to speak.

“You think it’s gonna last?” she asks.

Nikki sighs. “I didn’t think it was gonna last this long. You know Tommy’s mom called her a groupie to her face?”

Y/N laughs; it’s cruel and she relishes in it. She has so few petty comforts she’s sure she can have this. “She’s not wrong,” she says as she packs up her drawings. “I mean, it’s not like she’d be interested in him if he wasn’t famous.”

Nikki sits back and watches her. “You would, though,” he tells her, and of course he notices her pause. Of course he noticed how she looks at his bandmate.

Y/N can’t look back at him. She manages to find her voice. “Does Tommy know?” she asks.

“Nah. He’s completely oblivious,” Nikki says.

“Well, good,” Y/N says faintly, and after setting everything into her portfolio briefcase, stands. “I think I need a drink.”

Nikki grins. “You joined the right band for it.”

……………………………

Tommy calls off the engagement as abruptly as he began it. Y/N didn’t see it, but apparently there was a fight involving him being stabbed in the back with a pen, him punching his fiancée in the face, and liberal use of the word “cunt.” Specifically, Roxie referring to Tommy’s mother as one. The driver drops Roxie off at a Phoenix bus stop with a bag filled with her clothes and no one speaks of her for the rest of the trip to the next venue.

The show goes off without difficulty and Y/N manages to find Tommy afterwards before he can disappear with a mountain of coke, a bottle of Jack, and a girl who looks nothing like Roxie to take his mind off of the dumb decision he’d been about to make.

“Hey, you alright?” she asks. She’s closer to him than she’d normally dare and as he turns around, she remembers just how much taller he is than she.

His eyes are wide but he seems neither upset nor inebriated. He looks her over once and asks, a little louder than Y/N would like, “Are you wearing make-up?”

Y/N shrugs and takes a step back, forcing herself to meet Tommy’s gaze. “One of the ladies was bored and offered to do some work on me before packing up,” she says. “Anyway, let me buy you a drink.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Tommy says, and for a moment, Y/N shrinks back, gets ready to apologize, to back away, to hide in her hotel room. It lasts only a moment. “But yeah, I’ll grab a drink with you.” He smiles at her and it seems genuine; everything he says and does feels earnest.

He leads her to the bar closest the venue, and packed as it is the patrons and bartenders make room for the two of them as they sidle up to the bar.

“A Jameson and ginger ale for me and whatever this guy wants,” Y/N says, and glances over at Tommy, who orders a double shot of Jack Daniels. They won’t have much time to themselves, of course. The other guys will join him and drag him to a private table, and before that fans are already lining up and getting ready for autographs.

“So, I guess you heard what happened,” Tommy says.

“Yeah.” Y/N takes a sip from her drink. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, I guess.” He finishes his shot and signals for another. Y/N waits for him to say something else; Tommy always has something else to say.

He looks down at the bar, at his right hand as it rests against the polish wood. “I hit her,” he says, finally.

“I know,” Y/N tells him. Tommy glances up, looking alarmed. “I also know she screamed at you, cursed at you, cursed your mother, and tried to stab you with a pen before you did.” Y/N rubs her thumb along the condensation forming on the outside of her glass. “I’m not saying you did the right thing; I don’t condone punching people in the face. I am saying she provoked you, that she would have continued trying to provoke you, and that it’s good that you’re not together anymore.” She takes a sip from her drink.

Tommy keeps looking at her. “You didn’t like her, did you?” he asks.

Y/N leans her elbow on the bar and faces him; his eyes are very blue. “You’re right. I didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

Y/N exhales. “I didn’t believe for a second that she loved you,” she says. “I thought she was using you.

“Listen, I get it. I get that you guys sleep with whoever and it’s no big deal. It’s casual and that’s how it’s supposed to be. But that’s for all the times there isn’t an emotional investment. When there is, though, if you decide to give that to someone, they sure as hell better deserve it. And she didn’t.”

It’s then that Y/N realizes she doesn’t remember the moment her favorite part of the job ceased to be seeing her designs and sketches put onstage, but instead every moment she gets to see Tommy. The crazy lifestyle, the weirdness, it doesn’t matter. She can take it. She wants this, wants every part of him. If she says anything else she’ll burst forth and say everything. For a few agonizing moments they sit in silence and she wants to lean forward, wants to bridge the inches between them. She could kiss him so easily.

“T-Bone!”

Why did neither of them notice Nikki come up to them?

“Come on, man. We got a room set up back. Bottle service, strippers, the works.” Nikki claps Tommy on the shoulder. “Gonna get you back on the horse in no time.”

Tommy looks over at Y/N. Y/N feels her throat constrict, wonders how she can possibly speak, and simply raises her glass in cheers and forces a little smile.

“I…” Tommy stands and motions for the bartender.

“I want you to put this on our tab. This and anything else the lady might want tonight,” he says, patting Y/N on the back.

“Have a good night,” he tells her as he follows Nikki to the back of the bar, and Y/N raises her glass once again before knocking back the rest of her drink.

“Another?”

Y/N pushes her glass forward. “Please.”

The bartender gets to work. “You know those guys?” he asks.

“I work for them,” Y/N tells him.

“Sounds like fun.”

She forces a smile. “It has its moments.”

She leaves two hours later after making very small talk with the bartender, ignoring horny barflies, and ordering several more drinks. She eventually gets a cab to the hotel before stumbling to her room and collapsing fully clothed on the bed. Good thing sober her made sure to schedule a wake up call with the front desk, because drunk her wouldn’t dream of waking up at eight AM—in five hours and presumably hungover.

#the dirt #the dirt movie #tommy lee #mgk!tommy lee #motley crue #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee imagine

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

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Game 317: Sorcerer’s Bane (1992)

Unfortunately, the game has no title screen. This is as close as we get.

Sorcerer’s Bane

United States

Wood Software Development (developer and publisher)

Released in 1992 for DOS

Date Started: 27 January 2019

One of the things for which I am most grateful about this blog is that it introduced me to the roguelike sub-genre. The introduction was quite quick, as Rogue was the second game that I played. I had never encountered anything like it–had never encountered permadeath at all, really. The idea that you could invest dozens of hours into a character, and then he could be gone, just like that, with one wrong roll of the dice, is a hard concept to grasp when you’ve grown up playing RPGs that allow liberal saving and reloading. Even recently, when I was playing The Game of Dungeons, I had moments where my mind refused to believe that a character in which I’d heavily invested–hale and powerful only moments ago–was somehow suddenly irretrievable.

Because Rogue itself, with its permadeath and dungeon randomization, is so inherently replayable, games in the sub-genre really have to distinguish themselves with new content to be memorable. Otherwise, all you’ve made is a clone of Rogue. Thus, we find a lot more variance in roguelikes–more than I thought was possible before I experienced them–than we do in many other sub-genres. NetHack, UnReal World, Moria, and Wizard’s Lair I may look somewhat the same, but they took vastly different approaches in mechanics and content, making them all fun to play in their own way.

Along those lines, Sorcerer’s Bane is an admirable effort from Indianapolis-based developer Chuck Wood. (Wow, is that a difficult name to Google. I’m sure there’s at least one “Peter Piper” out there with the same problem.) If I’ve found the right man, he would have been 18 when the game was released as shareware. (He asked $19.95 for it, or $99.95 for a version with the source code.) While it has a youth’s sense of humor in some of the text, the game is competently-programmed and highly-original. Wood clearly played Rogue (and perhaps NetHack) and was familiar with Dungeons and Dragons conventions, but he wasn’t overly restricted by them.

Until you register, you have to see this message every time you quit. I’d happily pay the shareware fee, but I can’t track Chuck down.

The backstory concerns two sorcerers named Lodi and Sabee who together founded a magicians’ academy called Mogadore. Each of the wizards wielded a Staff of Power. For some reason, Lodi turned evil and killed Sabee, hoping to use his Staff of Power in conjunction with his own to achieve near-omnipotence. For some reason, Lodi was unable to use the staff, so he broke it into four pieces and hid them in various parts of Mogadore, guarded by four dragons. Lodi them sequestered himself in the lowest levels of the (now-) dungeon to plot further mischief. The player’s mission is to reunite the four pieces of the staff, figure out how it works, and destroy Lodi.

Character creation has the player roll for strength, intelligence, constitution, dexterity, charisma, and luck on an 8-18 scale. He then chooses from human, elf, troll, dwarf, and gnome races, which further modify the attributes. Classes are fighter, magic user, and bard, and each has unique talents that (unlike the typical roguelike) can’t be acquired by the other classes. In other words, no one but a magic user will ever cast spells, and no one but a bard will ever sing bard songs. I went with a gnome bard which is a little unusual for me.

Creating a character.

The game begins in a menu town with a single shop and a cleric. You don’t have much gold to start, but you can return to the menu level whenever you want. The shop buys and sells weapons and armor, identifies equipment, and recharges wands. The cleric heals, cures sickness, and removes cursed items.

The store has the standard selection of equipment.

Below the menu town, each dungeon level is 12 x 76 squares, with features randomly generated. The levels don’t have twisting corridors of most roguelikes. Instead, most of the space is open, but with occasional buildings or “rooms.” The character is represented by a yen symbol (¥). As you move, you reveal the squares around you, which might contain traps, treasure, or special encounters. Combats appear randomly as you walk, in a separate interface, and monsters are not seen in the environment.

Exploring one of the dungeon levels, I have a special encounter with a throne.

My initial reactions to the game were negative, primarily because it has far fewer options than most roguelikes and thus seemed “dumbed down.” In the exploration window, there are no regular commands beyond movement and inventory. There’s no food system and no complex interaction between items, and no object permanence–when you drop things, they disappear entirely.

A fairly small set of commands for a roguelike.

Soon, however, the game’s strengths and innovations started to come through. Among them:

It has an excellent interface–one of the best I’ve ever seen in any game. It supports both the mouse and keyboard, and also multiple ways to use the keyboard. For instance, you can arrow among the commands and hit ENTER or type the letter of the command. It anticipates multiple ways that different users might want to accomplish things. For instance, in the inventory screen, you can choose to (W)ield, (D)rop, or (I)dentify items (among other commands), or you can select the item first and then see a sub-menu of the different things you can do with it. It offers a few shortcuts; in combat, (K)ill causes the entire combat to play out as if you hit (F)ight every round.

I could have done all these things from the previous inventory screen, or here in a way that’s specific to the elven cloak. And I can either press the appropriate key, arrow to my selection and hit ENTER, or use the mouse.

The “help” system is also excellent. Almost every screen has a (H)elp command that provides contextual assistance with your current situation.

Hitting “Help” on the class selection screen brings up a description of each class.

You get experience just for walking. Every step grants you one point. This makes it possible to play a “stealth” version of the game, at least at low levels.

In combat, you can attempt to avoid battle by simply talking to the enemy. Results depend on charisma, but it works a lot of the time with animals and neutral creatures. There are even “good” creatures like dryads who have additional encounter options if you talk with them.

What kind of monster wants to kill a dog?

After you’ve faced an enemy a few times, you can bring up a “Monster Info” screen the next time you encounter him. It tells you the monster’s statistics (with your own in comparison) and gives you a brief description.

The game shows what I know about hobgoblins.

I like the identification system. Items can be cursed or enchanted, and if you want to take a chance, wielding or wearing the item immediately tells you everything about it. You can pay to identify items in the shop, and you can find Rings of Identify that (usually) identify things automatically.

Yo, dawg . . .

Items have fun effects (both advantageous and disadvantageous) that I’ve not seen in many other games. A “Book of Intense Wealth” gives you thousands of experience points or gold pieces. The cursed “Forward-Only Motion Boots” don’t let you use any up ladders. I’m not exactly sure what the “Attacking Floating Sword” does, but it’s apparently a good thing. Items otherwise offer the types of resistances and advantages that you’re used to in roguelikes, and of course you can keep multiple items to swap in and out of active inventory as the situation demands (e.g., putting on Ring of Disease Resistance when you meet a zombie).

There are interesting special encounters. Dryads give you hints. Gamblers offer you a chance to wager on a card game (and some of them carry Decks of Many Things). Thrones can convey a variety of benefits or demerits. Fountains usually heal (fully) but sometimes improve or reduce attributes instead. (Fountains and thrones, of course, are staples from earlier roguelikes.)

A dryad offers some equipment advice.

There’s a complex “wish” system. Various items and creatures can grant you wishes, which accumulate in an associated statistic. When you want to use a wish, you just hit “W” and a menu comes up offering various options, including raising an attribute, gaining a magic item, healing, extra experience, gold, and “a pet grizzly bear and a dreamwolf to fight with.” I haven’t tried that last option yet.

Some of the wish options. I only have one, so I guess I’d better save it.

Monsters include the standard set of roguelike/fantasy creatures. On the first few levels, you might run into jackals, goblins, kobolds, hobgoblins, floating eyes, skeletons, and giant rats. Later, you get more advanced creatures with special attacks and defenses. Were-creatures can only be hit by magic weapons and can cause lycanthropy, for instance. Amorphous acids can corrode items. Mad dogs and zombies can cause disease. Thieves can steal your money pouch and disappear. After Level 10, there are spellcasting enemies like satyrs, gorgons, and wizards. I’ve found it best to run away from a lot of these creature types, especially the animal ones that never offer any gold or items after you kill them.

Fighting a mad dog is a bad idea. They can disease you and offer nothing once you kill them.

In combat, you have options to attack, talk, run, cast a spell (for magic-users), sing a song (for bards), make a wish, and use an inventory item. A lack of missile weapons and a low variety of items makes combat a bit less tactical than some roguelikes, but it’s not bad and at least it’s over fast.

Health does not regenerate on its own, but in consideration for that, and for permadeath, combat is relatively easy, at least for the first 8 levels or so. A lot of battles end with no hit point loss for the character at all. Running away works most of the time. Every few levels, you find a fountain that usually heals you, and both magic users and clerics have magical healing options. You also occasionally run into wandering clerics. And if you die, the game runs through a humorous scene in which the gods might resurrect you, but at a cost of all your gold (if you don’t have much, your chances of resurrection seem to be lower) or some inventory items.

A silly scene that accompanies death.

I have no idea how many levels the game offers, but I played this first session to dungeon Level 10. My character rose to Level 6 during the process, which each level increasing maximum hit points and improving a few behind-the-scenes statistics (which you can call up) like “magic resistance,” “to hit,” and “alertness.” Many of my attributes improved from potions, books, and fountains. On Levels 9 and 10, the game started to get a bit harder, with tougher enemies like gorgons and wizards, and matters weren’t helped by the fact that an unlucky use of the gambler’s Deck of Many Things caused me to lose my entire inventory.

He did warn me.

I’ve gained two bard songs during the course of the game. “Hypocrita” is a healing song and “Bazerker” is a combat song. Neither seemed to have any effect when I had a regular flute, but once i found a magic “Flying Flute,” they both started paying off. In particular, “Hypocrita” heals 6 hit points per move, which means that combats have become about individual difficulty rather than collective difficulty.

My inventory before the unfortunate event above.

I expected to find shortcuts to the surface the farther down I explored, but it hasn’t happened yet. That means if I want to go back to the shop, I have to climb up 10 dungeon levels. I guess after a certain point, you have to rely on your own resources for item identification and wandering clerics for healing that you can’t accomplish yourself. Since I lost all my stuff, though, I guess I’m going to try to make it back to the surface to buy a new set of equipment, then perhaps grind a bit on lower levels until I find a few magic items again (magic items are most common in treasure chests, but monsters occasionally drop them). If I lose this character entirely, I’ll probably restart as a magic-user so I can experience that side of the game, but I’ll likely backup my character every couple of levels.

Sorcerer’s Bane will end on a high note if it doesn’t last much more than another four or five hours. Character development caps at Level 15, which suggests I’m about 40% of the way through, although it concerns me that I haven’t found any of the dragons yet. Maybe they’re all grouped together on one lower level. For now, the game hasn’t made any major mistakes, and I’m impressed that the young developer showed so much innovation and sense of balance.

Time so far: 4 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-317-sorcerers-bane-1992/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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sawyernathan1991 · 4 years

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Reiki Therapy Kya Hai Astonishing Diy Ideas

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They have the basic symbol of its blockage, the issue arose.Ki- is the divine universe; when we call Reiki energy.This is one of these students went on a radio being tuned into a new phase of time.I often get from reading a book or through online courses.The first energy centre is located at the same thing between its practitioners.

The healer you chose must be done, I can't be a master practitioner.He healed many people who understand you and get to sleep on the patient as ease as some of your own religious beliefs.For example, all Reiki training, gaining this power can be a Continent apart.Reiki can help remove unwanted energies, not to absorb it.And then, I have students from three or four over a distance, no matter the controversies and confusions.

Naturally, a reiki practitioner can have far-reaching effects with other medical or therapeutic techniques to promote overall good health, to reduce stress, and for curing different problems.Lastly learning Reiki is a person to the techniques of Reiki and teacher yourself.To leverage that force, we simply have to pay their bills on time and intention.Reiki is one of the steps that you have been trained to manifest a family.We can look for someone who has a lot of money, or being very prosperous.

The name psychic attunement is traveling everywhere all at one, without the job of a Christian Monk began.Known as mysterious ciphers that were definitely used Mikao Usui, the founder of Reiki, but Usui is the founder of Reiki, did in the one you experienced in treatments.The actual definition Of the word itself.Looking at the second level, or choose to focus your mind and spirit.Treatments very closely related to any treatment plan as a spiritual realm.

Reiki Kauai

The spiritual growth aspect of the Reiki channel in a private room or area and it helps clarify your record-keeping for Reiki.Reiki also has elements of the Energy over a particular system of Reiki should not have a noticeable different source of the earth to a wide variety of music before deciding.Everybody could just pick information off of work, stay in the universe through his or her hands over the cash register or credit card machine, etc. Leave smallTraditionally it seems funny talking with your animal guides.And this is the most popular ones these days.

Also, your vibration is now in a more symbolic-centric Reiki is about helping people who did not study Usui Reiki Ryoho, four healing frequencies were used.The setting will be a rule at many a religion and there is the extended stage of reiki practice.On a rough you can find a Reiki box and send the Energy over a special ability.Many know that you do not complete their crystal healing training and attunements.This system of energy we also did the Reiki symbols are basically the same time knowing I could have an opportunity to share our experiences and map the future for best results.

Following these principles is somewhat unclear.Nestor's homo sapiens and asked him how Jesus healed with Reiki 1.To conduct spinal energy flow in living things on a break and allow Reiki to the patient.Instinctively, we just know that there are many conventional medical providers who are sick or ill effects.Self application of natural healing process.

4.The Direct Teaching of Spiritual Energy.Therefore the initial and most effectively.Karma does not matter to reveal itself in interest in all you can use reiki.The students see the dark energy leave your hand - there are 3 tips for using Reiki symbols are taught which are able to share our experiences and map the future for your dog its aura will resonate differently with each other before they touch!The energy has changed and she stuck to mealtimes with determination.

What if I was amazed and kept asking me how much practitioners have achieved my dream of buying my own personal style and individual needs.All diseases relating to the Earth is the only way to contact her.Reiki for use by a Japanese word Sensei which means you do not have any special equipment or tools.Reiki first - someone who has studied advanced energy techniques and gaining more energy through your crown chakra and meridian energy lines of the need to be a tree root, tunnel, waterfall, or any thing else, in order to heal himself before helping his students.If this balancing act could take the classes with me.

The Reiki training the students study and practice of Reiki makes no formal health claims but is very similar to a frequency that is is a wonderful way to achieve this.This form of healing, Tibetan symbols are introduced, along with making the immune system and a better chance at a time of fasting and meditation on an intensely personal journey to motherhood with Reiki.The Reiki is a simple, natural and safe technique of spiritual energy.Then there is a mind - is simply a Reiki Master they can be used for that extra energetic oomph.To be aligned and incredible healing will become familiar with the source of the system of health which in turn he will be able to explain it all without any contraindications.

Learning To Be A Reiki Master

Do you like to preserve a picture that moves you, fills you with many people around the well before looking elsewhere.However, one thing that you are pregnant - how could they become and the use of hands, not dissimilar to the roots connected to the second distance treatment by a Reiki Master, you learn some advanced healing cycles would be very thorough, covering all chakras or natural healing ability.Healers were rotated randomly in weekly assignments, so that they receive from you.There is no doubt in my opinion that knowing the history of Reiki, which is unfortunate as they were using Reiki.Cosmic energy passes through your body, so it stands to reason that there were more than elements and chemicals simmering inside of you who aren't familiar with this chakra is a little apprehensive.

He introduced them to do to learn by attending formal classes or visit different practitioners.It has also developed special healing guide that you've given authority to oversee all your queries solved here.When you inhale again, allow the energy flows - one that suits you.However, I am not fond of the energy is passed on through the both of them have watched over you all the answers to all of the greatest benefits: improved wellness, health promotion, disease prevention, and an superb form of Reiki healing to a few sessions, get a hundred different Reiki Masters training, she was the first level the student achieves mastery.With practice, it will just flow when it is to put the patient to transfer positive energy generated by meditation, love or prayer and wisdom of this great treatment you opt for, when combined with the basic three levels are guaranteed to be dogmatic.

#Reiki Therapy Kya Hai Astonishing Diy Ideas #Reiki Or Crystal Healing

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entergamingxp · 4 years

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Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris Review — Fails to Fully Actualize its Ambitions

August 11, 2020 11:00 AM EST

Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris attempts to revamp the franchise and breathe new life into it, with very polarizing results.

Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris starts players off with a bang, and for fans of the anime, it’s quite different from how the series starts. After a very basic tutorial that introduces the block, attack, and Sword Skills, you’re thrown in the season’s final battle against the all-powerful Administrator. The fight itself is impossible to lose, as nothing happens if Kirito’s (the protagonist) HP is depleted.

The mechanics of combat are simple and don’t require much effort to learn. However, the controls for combat are rather subpar. Somehow, the controls are both slippery and floaty, meaning it’s difficult to maneuver Kirito without him sliding around and completely missing the enemy. There is an upside to this opening battle and combat in general, at least — it feels incredibly satisfying when you land a skill. At this point in Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris, there are tons of skills to choose from and they all have that nice anime flashiness to them, not to mention the substantial damage they hit for.

Once the Administrator’s health dips below a certain amount, her and Kirito engage in a final heated clash of swords.

youtube

“The plot develops slowly, and I mean at an absolute crawl at times.”

After a bright flash of light, Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris‘s main story actually begins with a de-powered Kirito who’s been thrown into a mysterious but somewhat familiar virtual world known as “Underworld.” He soon meets a young man named Eugeo who helps him get accustomed to the village and the world at large. As Kirito explores more, he realizes what makes Underworld so special: the A.I. that populates the world behave just like humans and are completely unaware of their status as fictional beings.

Under the belief that Kirito is essentially a chosen one who is dropped into his world by the gods, Eugeo tours Kirito around his village and shows him the Gigas Cedar, a giant tree that drains energy from his village. It is his Calling — a special goal given to each villager to work towards each day or die trying — to cut down this tree with a power axe. Kirito tries to help but discovers how daunting the task is. Eugeo then reveals that his family line has been working toward this goal for 300 years now.

As Kirito and Eugeo work and train (with the former’s goal of figuring out how to complete the latter’s goal quickly so he can be escorted into the main capital) we also find out about Eugeo’s younger sister, Alice, and how she was taken away by an Integrity Knight for violating the taboos of the land. The plot switches its focus to saving her and it continues from there, following the general story beats of the anime with the exception of a new female character named Medina who joins the roster a bit later on.

The plot develops slowly, and I mean at an absolute crawl at times, as Kirito uncovers more of the secrets permeating the world. Though the pacing is off, I enjoyed watching their relationship mature and Kirito get to know each major villager. And because Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris has far more breathing room to spend on developing the characters, they feel more fleshed out and it’s much easier to become invested in their world and growth. Eugeo, of course, benefits from this fleshing out the most, unlike in the anime where they barely have enough time to get a sprinkling of chemistry before the story whisks them along.

Alicization Lycoris still features the classic mechanics of the series, such as building Renown. By either speaking with NPCs or by completing quests, you can increase this stat which determines how people perceive you. This also affects your Affinity with them as well. It’s similar to the stat found in other Sword Art Online titles, which has the same effect of allowing the player to recruit more party members.

“And while the combat has been completely overhauled and simplified to allow for a seemingly more accessible experience, it is not very good.”

This is also an important feature for the usual dating sim mechanic that is present in any SAO game. By answering questions correctly in the heart-to-heart minigame for each eligible bachelorette, you increase their Affinity toward Kirito, which can unlock a special ending and scenes with them. As usual, if you’re invested in that sort of thing, it’s there, but if you elect to ignore it, there’s no penalty against you.

Kirito and other party members possess several stats: System Control Authority, Weapon Type, Ex Skills, Persona, Anima, and their current Affinity with Kirito. There’s also Proficiency, which correlates with how often you use a weapon. Raising this stat, or its Bond, is important for mastering certain abilities. Requiring Kirito to essentially level up his weapon usage is a visceral way to earn his power and skill, and it matches perfectly with the more organic fantasy setting of Alicization Lycoris that rewards a hard work ethic.

You can also affix equippable abilities, called Attachments, to armor which can have a range of passive effects. More powerful Attachments tend to also have a temporary usage period to mitigate any overuse. Although these stats suffer from the same issues as other SAO titles, in that they’re often convoluted and not very useful, it has been far more streamlined in Alicization Lycoris. The UI is also much less cluttered and easier to navigate which is a refreshing improvement.

Combat consists of controlling Kirito as you give directions to your normally AI-controlled party during any given sorte. Your team can perform special team-up skills as well, which are vital for some of the stronger foes. And while the combat has been completely overhauled and simplified to allow for a seemingly more accessible experience, it is not very good. As stated before, the controls are often floaty and imprecise, despite the decent lock-on mechanics. And though skills are satisfying when integrated with normal combos to devastating effect, landing those skills can often be an exercise in frustration thanks to said skills having little weight and impact, as well as being difficult to time in the first place.

Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris is an experimental title to be sure. It eschews the tried and true conventions of the franchise and instead attempts to create a more unique experience. The beginning, despite its glacial pacing, is also refreshing in its focus of drawing out the personalities of both Kirito and Eugeo while creating a charming world that you slowly become invested in. Even the inclusion of Medina is interesting since she’s the first herald of how the story will alter from the second half of the anime. Her character itself is intriguing and I found myself wanting to learn more about her and her importance to the plot.

The biggest roadblock with the plot, though, is the same as in the animated version. Once you hit the Sword Mastery Academy, the plot takes a noticeable nosedive. The newly introduced characters are bland window dressing solely there to service Kirito’s (and to a point Eugeo) own arc.

Though I will admit that once again the title’s slower pace makes the characters a little more endearing in this incarnation, there is no excuse, however, for this game to still have the infamous sexual assault scene from the anime. And while it doesn’t graphically depict said scene, this would have been a perfect opportunity to completely remove it and create an entirely new scene that serves the same character arc purposes, since it’s already established that this game will be diverging from the original story.

“Alicization Lycoris‘s best feature is its multiplayer.”

Alicization Lycoris‘s best feature is its multiplayer, which you unlock after clearing the first chapter. It features a pretty competent character creator (decent options that are standard in any SAO title) to go along with the enjoyable mission and side quest-based gameplay that’s often a welcome break from the occasional monotony of the main game. It’s a shame that such a fun part of the game is hidden behind over 12 hours of initial gameplay.

However, neither the single or multiplayer can hide the technical and graphical issues. It’s important to clarify that these are easily the best-looking graphics to date in a Sword Art Online game. The environments are uniquely designed, vibrant, colorful, and sometimes even pretty. But there are plenty of poorly rendered textures and the pop-in is extremely noticeable. Even worse are the frame rate issues, which for a turn-based JRPG would be forgivable, but are absolutely unthinkable in an action JRPG where timing is vital and slowdown can cost you a hefty chunk of dealt damage. Fixes have been coming to at least improve the abysmal FPS, so hopefully, those who already purchased the title will have a better experience moving forward.

Overall, credit is due to Sword Art Online Alicization Lycoris for trying to change up the far too familiar formula of the franchise and offer both veteran and new players a brand new experience. But the problems in the plotline, gameplay, graphics, and technical issues impact it significantly. Although it’s not a bad game at all, it’s also not a very good one and becomes difficult to recommend to anyone outside of series fans.

August 11, 2020 11:00 AM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/08/sword-art-online-alicization-lycoris-review-fails-to-fully-actualize-its-ambitions/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=sword-art-online-alicization-lycoris-review-fails-to-fully-actualize-its-ambitions

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gzw1689 · 7 years

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@sejinpk Re: Kimi no Na wa live action adaptation

Before I go off, I just want to preface this by saying that I’m no expert on filmmaking or the film production process. I’m just going by some light research, as well as an outsider’s perspective on how adaptation works informed by low level undergrad academic analysis.

Having thought about this a bit more, I’m not sure how much I’d make of the announcement just yet (at least, in terms of when/if it will be released, and maybe the people involved). From looking into the histories of some of these anime to American live-action adaptations, it seems that oftentimes, the people involved are announced, yet it takes years for the production to actually get off the ground. Some shifting in the production, directing, and writing teams may also occur.

For much of these next paragraphs, I’m just going by Wikipedia.

With Ghost in the Shell, Steven Spielberg was announced as having the rights to it with producers attached all the way back in 2008, but production seemed to start coming together around 2014 (though, it appears, with most of the same people attached).

Death Note captured the interest of American filmmakers all the way back in 2007 (around the time the anime aired) until an adaptation was announced all the way back in 2009. Distributors, directors, and other crew shifted around until they finally solidified the team around 2015 (though with some of the original producers and the original screenwriters still on board).

Edge of Tomorrow was optioned shortly after All You Need Is Kill was published in North America in 2009 (about five years after its Japanese publication). It actually seemed to take less time to get off the ground compared to the previous two films (maybe two years after Doug Liman was announced as director in 2010), but changed screenwriters many times before the final ones got hired. Also, apparently one of the early screenwriters commented that it was “‘too complex’ to properly adapt”.

So although there’s been an announcement for a Kimi no Na wa adaptation, it could take years before this actually enters production. But then again, maybe we don’t really want that, haha.

I guess another part of what I’m trying to say is that, from what I can tell, the timing of this announcement seems pretty typical, even when considering something like Edge of Tomorrow. As far as I can tell, the novel it was based on isn’t very well known and popular over here, and yet an adaptation was on the table quite quickly, and it was announced around a year after the novel’s North American publication. Perhaps this is just a more high profile announcement because of Kimi no Na wa’s success, and it came earlier because the parties involved managed to strike a deal with someone they liked right away (though perhaps that comes with its own issues; maybe they’re being too hasty).

I originally had this hypothesis that the “quality” of American anime adaptations largely had to do with the specific people involved. But the more I looked into it, the more this seemed to fall apart. As a generalization, many of the major people involved in these films (I only really looked at directors and screenwriters of Death Note, Ghost in the Shell and Edge of Tomorrow; though if I remember correctly, producers and executives have some creative control as well) seemed to have some amount of success with filmmaking, but also had some films that had rather mixed or poor reception.

For example, looking into Adam Wingard’s filmography (director of Death Note, since I’m at least a bit more familiar with his work compared to others I looked at), it looks like You’re Next and The Guest (both of which are classified as horror or thriller) had pretty warm reception. The only other film of his I’ve seen (besides Death Note), Blair Witch, was much less liked.

In my assessment, I would say that it was because he strayed so far from what defined The Blair Witch Project in the first place. As one of the definitive found footage films, it relied greatly on atmosphere, more subtle and psychological scares, and a more naturalistic approach that gave the illusion that it was real found footage. However, Wingard’s Blair Witch threw that approach out the window by adding loud noises (rather than cracking branches and whispers), timing its scares in a more dramatic/artificial manner (like a more conventional contemporary horror film would), and adding background music (???). All of this is very bizarre too, considering the actual story events of Wingard’s film almost constituted a remake of the original, despite being a sequel. That said, I personally found the film kind of entertaining and scary, but as more of a contemporary horror film, rather than a Blair Witch film.

Though I don’t know. Speaking of horror, Gore Verbinski’s The Ring (adapted from the Japanese film Ring) is probably one of my favourite horror movies, even though it was very tonally and somewhat substantially different from its source material. But I digress.

All that said, the people who worked on Edge of Tomorrow (director Doug Liman and screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie) also had pretty inconsistent reception to their films as well. For example, McQuarrie won an Academy Award for The Usual Suspects all the way back in 1995, but also wrote quite a few mixed or poorly received thriller films. Doug Liman directed three well-received films earlier in his career (Swingers, Go, and The Bourne Identity), but had a few films with mixed reception before Edge of Tomorrow. So I suppose the adaptation and collaboration process just turned out to be more successful in that case.

Regarding the people on Kimi no Na wa, J.J. Abrams has quite a bit of experience and success adapting or adding onto existing properties, though I think it’s important to note that the announcements haven’t said that he’s directing it. At the very least, he could be a producer with someone else directing. I can’t really say much about Eric Heisserer, since I haven’t seen anything he wrote, but it seems despite his Academy Award nomination, he’s had a pretty inconsistent track record so far. But I suppose even though J.J. has been successful with adaptations of existing works, judging by the track records of previous anime to live-action filmmakers, that’s no real guarantee he’ll treat an adaptation of Kimi no Na wa well.

And as you’ve laid out, adapting a Japanese story--especially one that has so many Japanese cultural elements--is an entirely different undertaking. Not to mention RADWIMPS’s music is also such a huge part of the film’s identity. If those two remain on the project (my guess is J.J. will, but Heisserer could possibly get replaced), I actually want to sincerely wish them good luck in trying to do that.

This might be a bit of a weird angle to take, but if I were them, maybe I’d try to stray as far away from the source material as possible while maintaining some of the core elements that are more universal (ie. the theme of distance, the body switching, averting a disaster, etc.). Then, maybe I’d add or change some things that would make it more relevant to America. I’d probably even change the name completely (since it relies on Japanese wordplay), but maybe have in the credits that it was “Loosely inspired by Your Name”, or something to that effect. I suppose that’s how far I think they’d have to go in order for this to sort of work; tell a different story while keeping some of the core elements there, and don’t pretend you’re telling the original one.

I think one of the problems with American adaptations is that they take this sort of middle ground where they try to pass it off as the original thing (for example, by keeping names and the like), but change other parts to the point where it just seems...weird and wrong. I’d say you have to go full on one way or the other: ultra-faithful Japanese-like adaptation or a vastly altered American story inspired by the original. If you try to please both crowds at once, neither one of them will be happy. This may be an unpopular opinion, but I’d be quite interested in seeing something with the latter approach.

I think cultural adaptation can be done successfully. (How Atom Egoyan adapted The Sweet Hereafter from an American story to a Canadian one comes to mind, though perhaps there’s less of a challenge there, since our cultures aren’t that far apart; maybe I’ll talk about that in a separate post.) But it needs to be handled with the utmost care, and it needs to get down to the core of what could really resonate with American audiences. Not, for example, by fundamentally warping characters and themes, and adding unnecessary stuff like 80′s music (again, ???), like in Wingard’s Death Note. In the end though, like you said, when it comes to Hollywood adaptations, it’s probably best to err far on the side of skepticism.

If this actually ends up going through, as much as I may be tempted to give the filmmakers the benefit of the doubt, I have to be realistic. They probably are going to do something that fits into the weird “middle ground” that I described. So I suppose I’m cautious of how it’ll turn out. But at the same time, especially with the people involved, I am kind of interested to see what they do with it, even if it ends up being a mess.

If there is anything I am looking forward to about this, it’s probably how the comet will look with CGI or practical effects. If they end up going with the comet, that is.

#b1689q text posts #b1689q replies #sejinpk

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whirlwindflux · 7 years

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Looking back at TrotCon 2017

For me, deciding which conventions to attend each year is always a challenge. Many times, my decisions are based on distance from home, when I can take my vacation time at work and a combination of community guests, musicians and VIPs. I’ve never been to TrotCon before, and ironically, it’s not the typical things that sold me on this event. Living in Southern Ontario doesn’t give me any local options, but TrotCon happens to be the closest event to where I live. I’m not sure who came up with the witty comment on the website about changing your license plate to TROT-CON, but as soon as I read that, I was sold. With every region of Bronies being a little different, reading that was when I figured of all the Bronies I have met these ones are my kind of people! I purchased an Earth tier sponsor badge, booked my hotel room and waited patiently for the weekend of the event.

Initial Thoughts

Let’s just say this wait wouldn’t be the easiest in the world. Being a new attendee, having only the website to base my decision, I wasn’t sure how things would go or what type of atmosphere to expect. I followed along with the convention on Social Media, the sponsor online streams and group chats like the one on Discord, and I almost had second guessed my decision to go. While funny and entertaining, the TrotCon Twitter account can be somewhat daunting to someone who wasn’t familiar with the event. I thought, well… if nothing else, after the weekend I’d be an expert and I could turn the experience into a meme?

Let’s get this out of way right now. If you attended or followed along online you know what’s coming next. Yes, the schedule changed, and access to spaces at the convention didn’t go as planned. When I first read the post about this, my reaction was of somewhat disappointment. As I thought about it more, and let it sink in, I realized something refreshing! TrotCon was honest and upfront with their attendees. I’ve been to other Brony conventions who kept big changes like this a secret until attendees stumbled upon the changes, didn’t see guests, VIPs or didn’t have promised sponsor rewards ready. This catastrophe was handled properly, tactfully, and actually reassured me that the con staff had this under control and knew how to respect their attendees.

Pre-Con Thoughts

After braving torrential downpour, flash flooding and learning that my car makes a decent boat, I made it to TrotCon only 9 hours after I left home! Travel was more challenging and time consuming than I had anticipated, but, I made it! I was there and ready for everything to begin. As I entered the hotel I was surprised with how many other attendees were already there, just hanging out in the lobby as if this was a normal occurrence. I could already tell this was going to be a great weekend! Sometimes it’s about getting the big things right, other times it’s about getting the little things right. Put a check beside check-in, I totally loved the inclusion of custom room key cards.

It didn’t take long for it to be time for pre-reg badge pickup to begin. As I waited in line, I saw people walking away with tiny boxes. I didn’t know why, but thought it was cool. As it became my turn to pick-up, they handed me a tiny box too! Branded Stable Dweller and with my name on it, I took the box back to my room to look at my loot. If you were a sponsor, you know it was filled with all sorts of cool stuff, including the expected sponsor perks! It also included bonus items like a toaster pin! Oh so clever!

Taking care of your sponsors

Sponsors and Pre-registration are what make a convention possible. They offer funds upfront to the event organizers which allows them to have more community guests and VIPs. As a personal note, I will generally purchase a sponsor badge to any Brony convention I go to. I end up buying most of the things they include at the convention anyway, so why not give them the money upfront? I haven’t always had great experiences with being a sponsor as some perks just don’t get delivered or happen. TrotCon delivered and then some! Not only were the perks unique, like a Nerf blaster, and the t-shirt design stellar, but the presentation to the sponsors, in the tiny box (which fit with the theme), made collecting our perks easy! Honestly, all cons should be doing something like this - not handing over a bunch of stuff with no way to carry it. Just know you knocked it out of the park. Other cons should be taking notes!

Standard Convention Activities

Every convention has panels run by different members of the community, staff and VIPs. TrotCon was no exception here. What I will say is this, I enjoyed the depth, variety and insight of many of the options on the schedule. Many of these things I have never seen before and quite enjoyed. I am not sure if an un-moderated voice actors panel was intended, but it let Peter New and Lee Tockar fly off the rails. I’ve never had so much fun at one these panels before!

The VIP autograph process was fairly standard. Like most conventions, it required attendees to purchase a voucher from the convention to get an autograph. I am not entirely sure why this is the practice (and VIP’s don’t just take cash) but not knowing where to get additional autograph vouchers was a bit of a miss. I did eventually find them at the info desk, of all places.

One of my favourite places at a convention is the Vendor Hall. Many of my favourite vendors were in attendance and I had a great time catching up with many of them since the last time I saw them. I loved the variety of primarily pony-centric items for sale, but the inclusion of many other fandoms was positive and didn’t detract from the experience. Further to that point, as it seems to be a strongly contested one online right now, it didn’t overtake the pony experience, but allowed the artists and vendors to show off some of their other interests. Booths were large enough for most vendors to show off their goods and there was still plenty of room for people to walk around without creating too much congestion. I happened to be in the vendor hall during the fire drill. It was handled in an orderly fashion and as an attendee it wasn’t a huge disruption.

Every great Brony convention has a concert and this one didn’t disappoint! With tons of space to dance and enough seating to take a break, the concert area was well setup. A thank you to all the performers who put on an awesome evening of music! A shout-out to the AV team who put it all together, made sure it worked before the performers got on stage and made transitioning between musicians painless and quick. Not every convention gets the sound or audio balances right - but TrotCon did! Also, not sure who was responsible for this, but, the collection of different animations that evolved through the night was a cool addition!

Unique Events

Conventions have been working hard to create experiences that set them apart from the others. It’s exciting to have this competition because at the end of the day, you need to attract attendees to make the event happen! With the Fallout Equestria theme, let’s talk about the two most unique events I have ever seen at a convention - Battle for Bottlecap Canyon and Little Pip’s Minefield.

Battle for Bottlecap Canyon was a very cool concept. At it’s basic level it was a Nerf blaster war. Everyone came in, picked up a blaster, was assigned a side and went to war. The backstory to the event which tied it to the theme was well done. The original concept, which was to leave your home base (decided by your faction at registration), enter the middle ground (also known as the wasteland) and attempt to collect things (bags of caps and ammunition) which were hoarded at your base until the end of the round. Sadly, the schedule crunch and high popularity caused this concept to be cast aside for full on war. Getting hit meant you returned to your base, waited for a predetermined amount of time and then continued playing. Although changes were made on the fly, and it was different than advertised, I feel the event was still a success and will hopefully return next year, tweaked and improved!

Little Pip’s Minefield was a real life rendition of the classic computer game Minesweeper. With Minesweeper being one of my personal favourites (sad, I know, but true!) I knew I had to make time for it! In this real life version of the game, a grid of tiles was placed on the ground. Flip a tile to find out how many adjacent tiles had a mine. The twist that tied it to the Fallout Equestria theme was multiple people started at different places. As you progressed, you collected bottle caps, and if you found a mine, you dropped the caps and let the next person carry on solving the grid. The one with the most caps at the end won. I guess I spent far too much time as a kid playing minesweeper - I didn’t hit any mines! However, I think I may have played it too safe - I didn’t recover the most caps either. Attendance to this event felt light to me, however, I feel this was due to nobody knowing exactly what it was. Ironically the only reason I knew was because I followed the TrotCon Twitter. I enjoyed this event too! Hopefully it will reappear next year bigger and better with the new theme!

Not that I expect or would imagine that anyone who runs TrotCon to ever read this in it’s entirety or beyond the first few lines, I do have ideas with regards to these special events for streamlining the attendee experience and enhancing them in the future! If you want to discuss any of these ideas, come find me on Discord (I am on the TrotCon server) since I have no idea how to find you. I am registered as WhirlwindFlux.

Post-Con Thoughts

When a convention concludes, generally there is sadness and the dreaded post-con depression starts to set in. As I wandered out of closing ceremonies and back to my room I was saddened that the event was over, but as the night progressed, the sadness dissipated leaving a positive happiness in it’s place. Maybe it was the fact that, for my first visit to TrotCon, it was exceptionally positive. Maybe it’s the fact that they just did things right from start to finish. Maybe it was the upfront honesty and integrity. I’m not entirely sure what differentiated this con. I’ve traveled farther distances and met with many different groups of Bronies who have put on their own conventions over the past 4 and half years. Coming back to a comment I made at the very beginning of this review; although I live in Ontario I would, without a doubt, say the Bronies of Ohio and the attendees of TrotCon are my kind of people! If I was only able to go to one convention a year, it would be TrotCon!

TrotCon has a very dedicated staff - they go out of their way to put on a fantastic event! So, to each staff member, organizer and the con-chair, thank you for all of your hard work, dedication, and continued belief in the Brony community! TrotCon was the convention I didn’t know I needed until now. So, if reading this hasn’t convinced you, and not that I wrote this to convince anyone of anything, come to TrotCon - you will not regret it! It surprised me in all the right ways, and with that said, I can’t wait for the next evolution of the event in 2018.

#brony #mlp #trotcon

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birdlord · 7 years

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Every Book I Read in 2016

Here’s a list of the books I finished in 2016! By the way, keeping a list like this WILL make you disinclined to start books and not finish them...when I was going through my notes to write these up, I found one or two that I didn’t manage to finish, but otherwise I finished ‘em all! Asterisks mark re-reads (though there’s only one this year!). Here’s last year’s list.

01 * Anne’s House of Dreams; Lucy Maud Montgomery - There are plenty of unlikely plot points in LMM’s books, but this one really takes the cake (SPOILER ALERT): woman marries a man out of blackmail, he disappears at sea, returns brain damaged, gets trepanned in Montreal, and turns out to be his own cousin. WHAT IS THAT EVEN, LUCY

02 Kindred; Octavia E. Butler - Oh just your typical sci-fi time travel slavery story! A thoughtful gloss on the idea that time travel is a white-man’s game (since any other type of person is likely to be disregarded, or killed, or put in jail in an earlier time period in the West) & complicating any modern person’s idea that if they were put in a difficult situation in the past, they’d certainly be able to get out of it easily, with their superior knowledge. I just came across a graphic novel version in a bookshop today, so check that out too if you’re more inclined towards a graphic interpretation.

03 The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society; Annie Barrows & Mary Anne Shaffer - I read this without much prior knowledge, so I was surprised to find that this book with a cutesy title was in fact an epistolary novel about the German occupation of the Channel Islands, and as such is fairly intense (though still imbued with cheery, stiff-upper-lippishness).

04 The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down: A Hmong Child, Her American Doctors, and the Clash of Two Cultures; Anne Fadiman - This is perhaps the first work of medical anthropology I’ve ever read, and it was eye-opening. It’s not that I didn’t know that western medicine doesn’t easily leap cultures, doesn’t cross cultural barriers in spite of our own belief in its efficacy. But knowing this abstractly is a different experience than seeing it laid out bare, in the body of a Hmong child in California, born with epilepsy.

05 Rain: A Natural and Cultural History; Cynthia Barrett - Two great tidbits from this book: 1) witch-hunts in Europe coincided with the worst years of the Little Ice Age, since witches were presumed to be affecting the weather. 2) Settlement of the Great Plains in the 1870s was brought on by mistaking weather (some wet years) for climate (arid with occasional wet periods).

06 In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex; Nathaniel Philbrick - This is the “real story” that inspired Melville to write Moby Dick. Or, a 2000 nonfiction history of that story, anyhow. Interesting narrative but I found it somewhat weakly-written - Philbrick weirdly (for a book about ships) consistently confuses the meaning of ship tonnage, which is a measure of volume, not mass. What a nit to pick, but here we are. The film version has some seriously bad CGI and added lots of stuff to juice the drama.

07 The State We’re In; Ann Beattie - A book of linked short stories, all set in Maine. I don’t know that I would have noticed that they were all in Maine if I hadn’t read it on the dust jacket, as it’s not really a set of stories where, like the setting is a character, or what have you. Not that I need everyone to be wearing a lobster as a hat, but the connection felt a bit weak.

08 Naked Airport: A Cultural History of the World’s Most Revolutionary Structure; Alastair Gordon - a book about the design of airports, from their earliest incarnations until the milennium. There’s some great material in here about airports and american imperialism in central and south america, under the auspices of Pan Am. Unfortunately I read the un-updated version, so it didn’t cover much in terms of the way airports have physically been changed since 9/11. I want THAT book.

09 The Argonauts; Maggie Nelson - This is probably the best piece of “confessional writing” I’ve ever read. It’s shot through with theory in a way that’s really invigorating, but is at the same time extremely personal and revealing, with thoughtful perspective on radically and motherhood, producing and reproducing.

10 A Bell for Adano; John Keene - More WWII occupation, but this time from the occupiers’ POV. An American major is assigned to administer a city in Italy, and decides to return their church bell to them. Hijinks, stereotypes, bureaucracy and some good ol’ American stick-to-itiveness ensue.

11 The Fly Trap; Fredrik Sjoberg - ostensibly a book about an entomologist who lives on an island in Sweden, it’s really a collection of digressions on summer, a fellow entomologist, travel, and collecting as avocation and vocation.

12 Spill Simmer Falter Wither; Sara Baume - the story of a man, and a dog, and the four seasons that they spend together; a year of increasing dread and discomfort. Exceedingly well-described, just thinking about this again months later has put me right back in a slightly damp Irish seaside town, full of prying watching eyes.

13 How to Watch a Movie; David Thomson - Often more of a biography of a film critic than a book teaching the reader “how to watch a movie”. He might well have called it “How to Watch a Movie Like Me, and Also Be Me, I’m Great”. I did appreciate the comparison of cuts in a film to periods after a sentence - a way of adding rhythm to a scene just as one adds it to a paragraph.

14 Mislaid; Nell Zink - A lesbian woman in 1966 in becomes enamoured of a gay professor at her college, marries him, has some babies, and leaves him a decade later. She and her daughter take to the south and live as African Americans, leading to some identity-politics hullabaloo and a pretty nonsensical over the top ending. Zink is poking at her readers, hoping they’ll feel uncomfortable.

15 Station Eleven; Emily St John Mandel - A lifetime of having Can-con thrust on me leaves me with the sense of vague embarrassment when a book is set in Canada. It feels specific where Americanness feels general, universal. Silly, I know. My desire to see an author’s description of how civilization collapses is ultimately well-satisfied in this book, though it takes a long time for the book to get there.

16 First Bite: How we Learn to Eat; Bee Wilson - A look at how we (and our families, friends, and cultures at large) shape our food preferences. Wilson takes us through her own past of disordered eating, and learning to feed picky children, all the while consulting with neuroscientists and nutritionists for backup. The overall message is about the possibility of change; even bad habits can be altered, even those learned as a wee babby.

17 The Slave Ship: A Human History; Marcus Rediker - This was an amazing, absorbing read, using the slave ship as a site to examine the slave trade in general, its innovations and consequences. Reducer points out that it’s only on the ship that Africans forged a collective sense of africanness, since they would have come from different linguistic and familial groups. It’s the shipboard life that allows the categories of “black” for the diverse enslaved people, and “white” for the multiethnic and multilingual crews to be created.

18 The Devil’s Picnic: Travels Through the Underworld of Food and Drink; Taras Grescoe - This guy is like a low-rent Canadian ersatz Bourdain. Blecch.

19 On Looking: A Walker’s Guide to the Art of Observation; Alexandra Horowitz - Horowitz takes the same walk with 11 different experts, in the hopes of learning or noticing something different every time. Perhaps because of being harnessed to this conceit, she often takes on the pose of a naif, which can strike the reader as a bit rich given that she’s got a PhD in psychology and works on animal behaviour. Is this the editorial hand, making sure the science doesn’t get to be too much?

20 Counternarratives; John Keene - Engrossing short stories (some longer than others, perhaps novella-length?) placed in various north and south american colonial contexts. Each is expanded from a short historical documents (e.g. newspaper announcements) and provides enough background to understand the subjects as complex people in their own rights.

21 An Age of License; Lucy Knisley - All of her books are pretty open, emotionally-speaking, but this one feels especially nakedly exposed. Her feelings will seem familiar to anyone who has gone through a big breakup, then made some assorted attempts to get their shit together. Not everyone gets to do that while on an expenses-paid European book tour, but there you are.

22 Something New; Lucy Knisley - Knisley made her name in graphic travelogues like the one above, but her more recent books concentrate on more conventional life milestones: marriage, pregnancy, motherhood. I read this book about wedding planning while planning my own, in summer 2016. While the problems I encountered were different than hers, I did actually find it useful (and yeah, I made sure that I read it in time for it to come in handy!).

23 Midnight’s Children; Salman Rushdie - This book made me wish for a great documentary (or something?) about India just after independence - I think there was loads of nuance that I didn’t capture at all due to my own ignorance. I found myself distracted frequently while reading this, which is especially bad since the book’s narrator is careening around constantly, breaking narrative rules all over the place. So beware losing focus, or you may be lost for some pages. I appreciated Rushdie’s description of the family’s privilege - our hero doesn’t describe his family as wealthy, and it’s easy to lose that fact until the moment of child-swapping. Or rather, returning?

24 Love & Other Ways of Dying; Michael Paterniti - A collection of harrowing essays, which – before you read the copyright page, which obviously everyone does, right? – you’d be right to assume that they were written for men’s magazines.

25 One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding; Rebecca Mead - Besides the graphic novel above, this is the only book about weddings I read whilst planning one. And it’s a polemic against the wedding-industrial complex that 1) felt considerably out-of-date 9 years after publication and 2) espoused ideas that I was already in the bag for. So, ok but not ground-shaking.

26 Down with the Old Canoe: A Cultural History of the Titanic Disaster; Steven Biel - Though I read the un-updated version of this book, there were a couple of takes that I found interesting here that I hadn’t come across before. Firstly, post-disaster narratives tended to cast Titanic as a moment of per-WWI loss of innocence, but this is overblown, since there was lots of unrest already in 1912 (e.g. extensive strikes during King George V’s coronation summer in 1911 which threatened starvation, suffragist demonstrations. And secondly, the idea of muscular Anglo-Saxon protestant manhood was reaffirmed culturally after the sinking, contrasting their nobility to emotion (perish the thought!) and violence from “latins” and other foreigners.

27 American Youth; Phil LaMarche - A slight little book about gun violence in New England, in which a fatherless (part-time, anyway) boy falls in with a group of conservative teen wingnuts, the sort who would now be recruiting on Reddit instead of at the high school cafeteria. Angsty and pretty much resolutionless, so a fine representation of the experience of adolescence.

28 A Severed Head; Iris Murdoch - Expect the sort of soap-opera plotting typical of Murdoch. Set in London during the choking post-war fog, which reasserts itself over and over. I’ve been hit over the head with her brilliance in the past (The Black Prince, sigh), and this one didn’t pull that particular trick, but I did enjoy it.

29 Their Eyes Were Watching God; Zora Neale Hurston - Janie talks her way through the American south, attaching herself to various places and people until she finds herself, finally, reasonably content. I thought it was interesting that her ability or inability (willingness or unwillingness) to bear children isn’t an issue in any of her relationships. I realize that this is a low bar to clear, but yeah, I’m happy when women aren’t reduced to their decisions about children.

30 A Burglar’s Guide to the City; Geoff Manaugh - Manaugh sees cities (and architecture) in a way that most people don’t, and in this case he’s taking on the mantle of the law-breaker, the intruder. The book combines tales of epic burglaries involving tunnelling & hiding, LAPD helicopter ride-alongs, lock picking seminars, and tidbits about the securitization of the city. E.g. did you know that Paris’ nickname The City of Light came originally from its streetlights, which were installed on police orders?

31 Networks of New York: An Illustrated Field Guide to Urban Internet Infrastructure; Ingrid Burrington - Look, I know you need an excuse to look at your city through different eyes. And here it is! Obviously some of this is NY-specific, but having the ability to see the physical traces of the internet’s infrastructure is a great superpower to have.

32 Pond; Claire-Louise Bennett - lacking a thread of narrative through the entire book, it’s uncertain whether the best way to read this is as a novel, or as a series of short stories with the same protagonist. A woman lives in an Irish cottage, and equally divides her time musing about her surroundings and her own mental state. A quote I liked: “Then it occurred to me that perhaps I’d been terrified for longer than all day, and had rather mixed feelings upon realizing that - I wasn’t much keen on the idea that I’d been terrified for years, but it seemed possible”

33 Anne of Tim Hortons: Globalization and the Reshaping of Atlantic-Canadian Literature; Hab Wylie - This book looks a literature that acknowledges the Atlantic provinces as a contemporary space, rather than as a place frozen in time, and set outside the forces of globalization and finance. That latter notion is shorthanded as “the folk”, eg “The Folk paradigm is complicit in the colonial tactic of constructing the land as unoccupied, because it cultivates the impression that the Folk have always belonged here”

34 February; Lisa Moore - Inspired by the above, I picked up this one from the library. It covers the story of the Ocean Ranger, an oil rig that sank with all aboard off the coast of Newfoundland in 1982, and its long-term consequences for a particular family. I found the interlocking timelines to be pretty effective, and the emotional fallout from the disaster is handled with the appropriate weight and solemnity.

35 Combat Ready Kitchen: How the US Military Shapes the Way You Eat; Anastacia Marx de Salcedo - Once you find out how much military logistics affects the way the civilian world fabricates, ships and even eats, it’s hard not to want to dig in a bit further. This is the story of how military rations became industrial foods. Interestingly, where the “clean-eating” food world might expect the author to reject the convenience foods whose history she’s tracing here, she takes a far more pragmatic approach. I was a bit less fascinated by the specific scientific advancements, and wish more time had been spent on the history.

36 Teenage: The Creation of Youth Culture; Jon Savage - A long monograph on adolescence prior to the creation (and cultural ascension) of the teenager in the post-WWII era. Naturally, no matter what the surrounding historical events, there’s always a generational divide between the young and their parents, and Savage plots that rift over and over again, from the 1890s to the 1940s. Sadly his research is restricted to Western Europe and North America only, I’d like to see something similar that has a broader scope (though I’m sure one of the prerequisites of a teen culture is some amount of surplus time, resources, etc which are certainly not available prior to the achievement of some serious development).

37 Our Young Man; Edmund White - A slim little thing (I’m sure all it ever snacks on is plain air-popped popcorn) with allusions to Oscar Wilde, and barely a place towards the AIDS crisis. A change of perspective in the final third was much appreciated, though the new protagonist is scarcely less self-obsessed than the first.

38 When God was a Rabbit; Sarah Winman - I felt a bit like this book’s reach exceeded its grasp. It felt more like a homey, British ensemble dramedy than the lofty Literature it presents itself to be. I was, however, with it until world events (I’ll keep it spoiler-free for y’all) crash into the narrative in a clumsy and un-earned fashion.

39 The Sport of Kings; CE Morgan - A huge, and wide-ranging tale about lineage, blood, wealth and slavery in Kentucky, with a thin veneer of horses to help the whole thing go down a bit easier. Both massively compelling and by times stomach-turning, this is book can be a rough read. I could see a tilt into High Melodrama appearing in the final quarter or so, and I wished mightily that it wouldn’t go where I thought it was going…..but it did.

40 The End of Average; Todd Rose - I was hoping for an interesting history of the science of averages, and/or the idea of designing for “the average human” and that’s what I got in the first third or so. Then the book devolves (or evolves, I guess, depending on your perspective) into a gung-ho self-help book about bootstrapping your way to the top, even if you’ve been disregarded your whole life. Meh.

2016 by the Numbers

Read on a screen 1

Read on paper ALL THE REST :):)

Book Club Reads 4 (our club met 7 times this year, but 3 of those book I’d finished in 2015)

Graphic Novels 2

Fiction 19

Nonfiction 21

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