#a lot of the emotional devastation is because roman is my favorite but really no matter who your fav is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

safflowerseason · 2 years

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succession 3.08

this episode featured many of my favorite things. the Roys in Europe! the Roys in their vacation clothes! non-corporate landscapes! wedding shenanigans! devastating conversations! exquisite insults!

- this season began with some intriguing power reversals...Logan at his weakest yet, Gerri as CEO, Tom seemed to be on more equal standing with Shiv...but now we’re back to usual status quo. Logan seems more powerful than ever (at least when it comes to Kendall), Gerri’s position as CEO is nothing but a formality and her position has been even further weakened by Roman, and the “love portfolio” between Shiv and Tom seems more imbalanced than ever.

- Harriet Walter has done *so much* with a relatively small part, it’s almost impossible to believe she’s not in every episode...her influence on her children has been as damaging as Logan’s, if slightly less outsized.

- Oh Shiv. Oh honey. You are the dog.

- I honestly don’t have much more to say about Shiv and Tom’s marriage after a season of watching them sink even further and further into total marital misery. obviously this is a show that thrives on exploring the nooks and crannies of an emotional status-quo, but at this point I feel like something has to break between the two of them...a baby or a divorce? Although I suspect the show will go with something less traditional than either of those choices.

- the siblings/Tom tend to get the bulk of the acting praise on this show, but every once in a while I think it’s important to remind ourselves that Succession would literally fall apart without Brian Cox at its center. His conversation with Kendall...his reaction to the reveal about Roman and Gerri...GOD. the way he’s able to convey volumes of emotion with the flicker of an eyelid.

- “what if I want to keep you close?” *screams* the crux of the whole show, right there. Logan’s a horrible abuser and of course will never let Kendall be free of him, but at the same time he has always been very worried that Ken will die too young and that is part of what drives his desire to control Kendall. Logan quite literally kept Ken alive in S2, and we’ve seen in S3 how deeply Kendall ha sunk without his (evil) father’s protection. Ugh. That relationship is soooooooo twisted on so many levels.

- cannot believe this show forced a photo of Roman’s dick in front of my eyeballs. (Kieran Culkin, though...the way he literally contorted himself into a knot when he realized where the text had gone).

- more seriously I liked this twist in the Roman/Gerri relationship, which has been very compelling and even humanizing for Roman but hardly free from the usual toxic power dynamics that shape all Succession relationships. In many of their interactions it has seemed like Gerri held the power--Roman *needs* her, sexually, emotionally, professionally in ways she doesn’t necessarily need him--except for the fact that Roman is a) a Roy and b) a man. Gerri becoming the CEO caused cracks in their alliance, and it’s not a coincidence that Roman has become progressively more of a toxic suitor as Gerri’s attempted to draw boundaries within their relationship--for all Roman’s childishness, he’s still a grown-ass man with a lot of power over her. And now, the relationship has blown up in their faces in a way that can hurt Gerri much more than it will hurt Roman, because she’s not a Roy. Gerri’s whole thing is avoiding mess, and this is messy. She can’t/won’t tell the whole truth, and Shiv (and Logan) now have a tool to use against her.

- the conversation between Shiv and Gerri...*screams internally*. Shiv and Gerri have spent this season quietly opposed to each other’s rise within Waystar, but the gloves come off (still quietly) in this episode. That scene between them was the perfect encapsulation of how different Shiv and Gerri when it comes to their own approaches to power, as well as a miniature master-class on the generational differences within feminism. Like, do we really think this is first time some corporate prick has sexually harassed Gerri? No way. Gerri came up in the corporate world when women only made it if they acted like men, when men like Uncle Mo could harass and abuse women with impunity. In my opinion, Gerri’s stonewalling of Shiv prying for more information was also a kind of rejection of Shiv’s twenty-first century corporate girlboss tactics. (Not that Shiv is particularly interested in Gerri’s actual wellbeing at this point...she’s just eager for anything to take down Roman’s ally). Both actresses played the scene so well. J. Smith Cameron in particular did a great job playing all the many shades of emotion Gerri must be feeling in that moment: she resents Shiv for condescending to her, she can’t fucking believe she’s in this situation in the first place, and she refuses to give Shiv any more power over the situation by revealing additional information.

- related, a sub-sub thread of Succession has been the generational differences between Logan, his old guard (Gerri, Frank, Karl), and his younger children, and how they manifest within the corporate world. It’s notable how Logan, who is (probably) having an affair with his much younger assistant, and who probably wouldn’t bat an eye if Frank or Karl were doing the same as long as the girl in question weren’t related to someone he knows, views Roman’s indiscretion as just totally unacceptable and reprehensible. He can’t conceive of Gerri as a sexual being because she’s older and doesn’t look like Shiv or Kerry; he doesn’t understand that dick pics are a comparatively common form of sexual communication among “the youths” (to Logan, anyone under the age of fifty and proficient with an iPhone). Similarly, Gerri’s total rejection of Shiv’s discussion of Roman’s harassment of her (and it IS harassment, let’s be clear).

- Connor thinks the way to get the press to potentially back off Willa is by marrying her?? *face palm* this idiot.

- I’m assuming they filmed more scenes with Marcia and cut them for time. THIS CANNOT STAND. If I don’t get more Marcia in the season finale I will throw my computer through a window.

#succession #succession season three #succession analysis #succession spoilers #logan roy #kendall roy #roman roy #shiv roy #connor roy #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #gerri kellman #MORE MARCIA #chiantishire

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

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Paper Flowers: one step forwards two steps back

Progress isn't always linear. And the setbacks can feel devastating. But it might still be worth it to try and move forward again.

A cute puppy jumps around excitedly, clearly asking to play, in a grassy field, on a sunny day.

Dad lays his hands to his heart. "Aw so cute!"

The dark Lord has his arms crossed, face partially hidden in the shadow of his pulled up hood. "Pathetic," he scoffs, not even looking.

A cat delicately washes her face. Dad gasps. "Elegant!"

Nemesis rolls his eye. "Obnoxious"

A horse prances around a meadow, hair flowing freely in the wind.

Dad stared on in awe and whispered: "Majestic."

Nemesis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Disgraceful"

Suddenly Dad jumped on a bench and pointed frantically at the ground. "Aaah spider!" he screamed.

Nemesis cooed as he knelt down. "Hello there darling!" He gets up, gently petting a massive spider.

Dad screams in horror once more.

"Well, that was fun," Patton smiled nervously. Virgil looked up at his paternal colleague with a raised brow. The man's body language didn't exactly radiate "I just had fun" energy.

"Plastic spider got you spooked huh?" He mused as he returned his attention to his phone. Thomas just got done filming their character's collab video. Princey's latest very transparent attempt at helping Virgil get along with the others.

"A little," Patton admitted. "But still. I get why Roman enjoys making videos with you so much!"

Virgil suppressed a scoff. There was no real need to point out that it was just Thomas playing caricature versions of them. If Patton wanted to pat himself on the back for this he wasn't going to burst his bubble. So he just shrugged. "I guess," he muttered not noticing how Patton lit up at this small victory.

“Wonderful work you two!” Roman beamed as he entered the commons. Okay, so apparently there was a point in pointing out the obvious.

“Does everyone just forget that it is Thomas who plays these characters? Most we did was toss in a few suggestions. The vine is all you Roman, jeez!” Virgil complained, though he gave Roman the smallest hint of a smile. He wasn’t sure if Roman had started making an effort to give the others credit since they became friends, or if it was just a part of him Virgil only saw now because he spent some actual time around him without shouting insults at each other. Not to say they hadn’t had fights the past… Six months, man time flies. Anyway, their fights could get just as heated as ever. But now after they stormed off to their rooms to cool down, one or the other would eventually knock on the other’s back door with a movie or a snack and an apology. They’d talk things out and make up. It was much better like this. In the past when Virgil’s anger subsided he’d start panicking about… well, everything. Not talking about it afterwards, or even acknowledging that a fight had taken place… Yeah not great.

Roman just rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say Gloom Day. But what did you guys think?” he asked, smile back in place. Roman was already feeling good about today because Virgil had more or less openly complemented him.

“It was amazing Roman! I’m sure the fanders will love it too!” Patton gushed.

Roman gave a little bow. “Thanks padre. Your enthusiasm is appreciated as always.”

This time Virgil could not contain his snort.

“Something funny? Panic at the everywhere?” Roman asked, hands on his hips and a brow raised in challenge.

“Nice one,” Virgil allowed. “It’s just, why even bother asking him? You know he’s going to sing your praises. You can’t sneeze without getting a medal as far as Patton is concerned,” he pointed out.

“That’s not true,” Patton protested gently.

“Well, what did you think then? Oh, sinister one?” Roman asked expectantly, not commenting on the medal thing.

Virgil thought about that for a moment. “I guess it was sort of okay. It was rough on Thomas because Dad and Nemesis have very different energy, but he enjoyed it. The fanders probably didn’t expect the nemesis to interact with other characters,” he allowed, trying to sound reluctant. This time he did see that Patton was beaming. He was really getting too soft around the others.

“Evening everyone,” Logan greeted as he entered the commons. Making Patton get up to get dinner ready and Virgil contemplate whether he’d have dinner in his room or if he could handle a little more social interaction.

“Logan! How did you like today’s project? I am two for two and feeling pretty good, so no need to hold back your criticism,” Roman grinned. Logan cast his eyes to Virgil and then to Patton who nodded, clearly excited to confirm this.

“I see. Well while your intentions were rather transparent, it was a rather good experiment.”

Virgil sat up confused. Did… Did Logan figure them out?

“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” Roman grinned innocently.

Logan sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Fine. You ran a test to see how the fanders would respond to the characters loosely based on our personalities interacting. Anxiety and Patton are an interesting first choice. My character and Patton’s would have a more natural combined narrative, but it is effective none the less. I assume that if this gets positive reviews, you will propose other collaborations as well?”

Roman shrugged. “Maybe.”

Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman had promised to stop pushing the subject after things got to a blow with Patton after the whole ‘Marcus’ incident. He should have known that he wouldn’t intentionally push them together.

“Oh Roman! That’s a brilliant idea! That’ll definitely help Anxiety feel less nervous about the whole thing. Right Anxiety?” Patton asked kindly.

Virgil shrugged as he got up to set the table. Just to have something to do.

“You guys do whatever. I’m still not on board.” He didn’t expect them to get it. They represented what people liked about Thomas. His intelligence, creativity, humor, kindness, passion…

He was… as far as everyone was concerned, what hurt Thomas. And yes, he overdid it, a lot. He had tried to be better, honestly, but he couldn’t help who he was.

“We’ll see about that Doominator. I’ll win you over, just you wait. But what did you think Logan?” Roman insisted, pulling Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Well, until we have more data it is hard to say…” Logan started, but then he stopped to ponder. Roman was actively asking for feedback. He had even stated that he could handle it if it wasn’t entirely positive. Maybe he should reward that effort with some of his own.

“Though while I usually would stick with facts, if it is my personal opinion you are seeking…”

An eager nod from Roman confirmed this. Well here goes.

“You all know I am not most in tune with emotions and artistic endeavors. That being said, you did well. The classic broken pattern and the recurring theme of closing off a video including Anxiety and any other character with some form of screaming will almost certainly be well received by the fans.”

Roman was beaming. He had more or less expected someone to criticize the skit in some way, but they all really thought it was good. Maybe the Sanders Sides series could actually happen!

“Dinner’s ready! Thanks for helping out Anxiety,” Patton said pleasantly.

Virgil looked down at the table and found he’d finished setting for four. Guess he’ll be staying for dinner.

He sat across from Patton with Roman to his right and Logan to his left. Roman was brainstorming out loud while they ate dinner, occasionally encouraged by Patton or redirected by Logan when he veered of topic. Once or twice Virgil even muttered a teasing remark which had Roman pouting dramatically and the specs trying to hide their amusement.

It was nice, almost, normal.

He should’ve known then that something was heading his way.

“What do you say Florida Ghoul? Underrated Disney movie night?” Roman asked as they put away the dishes.

Virgil was honestly tempted. Almost all his favorites were in that category. Which Roman knew. They’d argued about the best movies often enough.

But if he started he might lose track of time…

“I have made you all suffer through enough of me I think. I’m going to head down, see what the others are up to.” Thomas was more or less dozing off in front of the tv, he should be fine going down. Maybe he could ask J for a movie night of their own.

“Night,” he waved as he made his way to the door to below. Suddenly he felt someone tug at his hoodie? He looked back, expecting Roman, but it was Patton, looking at him with big shocked eyes.

“Y-you’ll be back though right? We really don’t mind you staying. You don’t have to…”

Virgil raised his hands. “Wow, calm down. What made you think I was going to go back? Permanently I mean.”

Patton looked away, let go of his shirt and started fidgeting with his hands.

That told Virgil enough. He looked up to Roman and Logan. “What did Deceit do?”

Roman got ready to speak, but Logan beat him to it.

“About a week ago, after we first discussed Roman’s Sanders Sides idea, he made a brief appearance. He implied that he might take you back in if we didn’t do a better job of ‘handling you’. Roman and I already assured Patton that Janus has no such power without our aid, but he apparently has not been convinced.”

Virgil glanced to Roman who nodded to confirm that this was how things had played out.

He let out a tired sigh. “I can’t belief this guy. I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could say anything he rushed down the stairs. His thoughts racing. Was this the first time Janus had tried to guilt the others into being his friends? Had Roman… No… No he couldn’t start down that path. Not yet anyway.

“Janus!” he called out as he entered the living room.

“Virgin!” Remus greeted excitedly. Virgil gave the chaotic gremlin he’d grown up with a quick wave.

“Leave us for a sec Remus,” he growled, not looking away from the yellow clad side.

Janus walked up to Remus, looking at Virgil with confusion.

“Why don’t you go hunt something for breakfast Remus,” Janus suggests. Remus didn’t need any more prompting than that. A second later they were alone.

"Virgil, what's the matter?"

Virgil worked a brow. "What do you think? Why could I possibly be mad at you?" He asked, wanting to give Janus a chance to fess up himself.

Janus took in his body language and expression. This was not the fury he'd expect if he'd somehow discovered Janus had been in his room when he wasn't there.

So that left... "Did the lights really tell on me?" He huffed trying to hide how worried that made him. He had no clue about the context. What did Virgil think happened?

"No. I said I was planning on hanging with you guys tonight with plenty of my usual self deprecating humor and Patton was worried I was planning on staying away. I figured you had something to do with that. Logan told me what happened because I asked," Virgil clarified.

"Now I want to hear your side. The truth J. Please." He really hoped the explanation wouldn't be as heartbreaking as the one in his head.

Janus took in a deep breath. "Okay, bit promise we'll stay on topic. No evading, no beating around the bush." Virgil nodded in agreement.

Janus studied his face for a moment until he was satisfied with what he saw. "Okay. Virgil you have been disappearing. I tried to check up on you a few times the past few months and you were just gone. I allowed you to go upstairs because I thought it would be better for you. But if they are erasing you... I needed them to at least try to keep you. I didn't know what else to do..."

Virgil groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to skip over the fact that you obviously entered my room while I was our, for now." He took a deep breath. It wasn't a surprise really. Janus and Remus both always just appeared in his room when they wanted to speak with him. So of course Janus had occasionally popped in to find it empty.

"I was probably in the imagination," Virgil confessed.

"The... why? How?!" Janus asked shocked.

"Roman gave me a little meadow to relax. Like 5 months ago I think. Not too long after the prince vs nemesis video's started. I go there when I need a break."

Janus stammered for a few seconds before letting out a utterly perplexed: "Why?"

That hurt a little. Was it that hard to belief?

"He only said he felt like giving me something. Maybe it was because I gave him some constructive criticism earlier and he wanted to try out positive reinforcement. You know he always overdoes everything," Virgil explained. There wasn't a single lie in his statement, so Janus believed him.

"But... he's not supposed to know..." Janus collapsed a hand in front of his mouth, realizing he said that out loud.

"What is Roman not supposed to know?" Virgil growled.

Janus took a small step back. "I... before I sent you upstairs I told Patton and Logan what I was planning and why. I wanted to be sure they'd look after you."

Virgil nodded. That made sense. "Why was Roman not supposed to know that?"

Janus couldn't look at Virgil. "I... told them I was worried what it would do to Thomas if you didn't move to a less stressful environment. I wasn't sure if Roman would be helpful or even more wary of you. So I blocked even the thought of telling Roman about our conversation from their minds."

Virgil was silent for a few moments. Somehow he felt a lot better about everything now. It all made so much more sense.

"Unblock it then," he muttered as he turned around.

"Virgil..."

"Unblock it. I'll see you guys next week or something. Maybe..." J had meant well after all... right?

"Virgil!" Janus called after him, but he was already halfway the upper commons.

When he walked in Roman, Logan and Patton were standing there waiting for him.

"Janus lied. So you don't have to pretend anymore. And you should be able to tell Roman," he said. Hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the doorframe. His old walks back in place. It was better that way.

"Anxiety... kiddo no. You..."

"Just drop it!" Virgil hissed in his tempest tongue, the briefest glimpse of his feral form was enough to make Patton stagger backwards into Logan. Roman was reaching out though. He was still on Virgil's side.

"I was getting sick of all this sappy family stuff anyway," he scoffed before leaving for gos room.

Roman stormed into the meadow ready to break down Virgil's door if he had to. Virgil hadn't knocked not even once. But he couldn't be left alone with his thoughts now!

He was barely two steps inside when he spotted Virgil sitting there, a crown of purple daisies in his hand.

"You came," the anxious man breathed in relief.

Roman sat down next to him careful to keep enough distance but also be within reach.

"Of course," he said gently. They both knew ge wanted to defend Patton and Logan. To assure Virgil that they never did what they did because they feared he would be pushed to the edge and hurt Thomas in the fallout.

Virgil had explained to him that his discomfort around Patton was due to feeling like the moral side saw him as a ticking timebomb.

The reason for that was painfully obvious now. But how to make Virgik see that Patton was more distant than he wanted to be instead of more welcoming?

"I knew it was all too good to be true. The bubble was bound to burst... I told myself not to get too attached, cause it would end up hurting... I didn't realize... not until earlier. My room is almost back where I started Roman. I litterally pushed them away. And I thought... I thought I'd pushed you away too." Roman could tell Virgil had been crying.

"Preposterous. I'm much too stuborn to get rid if that easily," he assured Virgil. The darker side cracked a smile at that.

"I'm glad I was wrong about that..."

Roman nodded. Virgil had told him how much he hated being right.

"Did I ruin movienight?" Virgil wondered tensely.

"Well I don't know about Logan and Patton. But you and I are going yo watch all those tragically underrated movies."

And with a wave of his hand Roman set out an out doors movie theatre complete with snacks. The sky darkened and Virgil was handed a movie menu.

He smirked as he looked it over. Roman really did have to overdo everything. Including distracting him.

It was appreciated though.

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @riverdoesbadart @vpow @apinkline2715 @frida43 @tired-yeetling @firegirl156

Later Virgil would discover that his room was moved just a few feet closer to the upper level again.

Next: adjusting

#sanders sides #fic #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #ts virgil #ts roman #paper flowers au #patton sanders #janus sanders

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death-himself · 3 years

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I don't know if you do prompts, but if you do, I was wondering if you'd ever consider adding a part in the Bogeyman!Virgil verse where the family has a fight.

Kids at that age are so temperamental, and they say things they don't mean to their family when they're so young, expressing hatred a lot. It's bound to happen, and siblings especially fight so often.

I could imagine one of the kids screaming at Virgil that he's a monster, not their real brother, that they hate him, that they hope they never see him again. It's pretty standard for a child, but I doubt Virgil would know that, and with his past of being unloved, I could see him immediately being heartbroken and devastated.

Love your work!

Sorry it took so long to get to this anon! The one-shot I wrote for this one actually ended up being like twice as long as usual :) I can imagine all of the kids, especially Roman or Patton getting upset with him pretty easily. And maybe this would also work for Thomas, I mean a single father of four kids would probably end up getting mad at them and hurting their feelings unintentionally every once in a while.

Anyway here’s the fic, I added Remus and Emile in just because (warnings for angst, fear, and Roman being an asshole at the beginning)

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to break it. He would’ve never broken one of their toys on purpose. He stared blankly at Roman’s plastic sword, the blade bent at a very noticeable angle. Roman’s eyes widened as he gazed at the damage, snatching the sword from Virgil’s hands to get a closer look. His eyes filled with tears instantly, big drops falling onto his broken weapon.

Virgil bit at his lip, guilt filling his stomach as he crouched down in front of him. He put a hand on Roman’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “I’m sorry Ro, I didn’t mean—” Roman shoved his hand away with a whimper, smacking him as hard as he could with his sword. Virgil flinched, despite the kid’s blow not causing him any pain. “I’m sorry, okay? We can get you a new one.”

“No! I liked this one!”

“Well...then maybe we could—”

“No!” Roman shrieked. “Go away! I hate you!” Virgil’s heart sunk into his stomach.

“Y-You don’t mean that Ro.” Virgil tried to put his hand back on Roman’s shoulder, but only got another smack from his toy sword.

“My sword was broken by a meanie monster.” Roman muttered angrily. As he stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, Virgil stayed crouched, watching him leave with glazed over eyes. It had been so long since he had been called a monster, he had forgotten how much it stung. And now it hurt much, much more.

He took a shaky breath, gaze shifting to the ground. Roman did tell him to go away...

Okay. He’ll go away.

Thomas had heard Roman screaming and ran to the stairs, just in time to see the kid in question storming down with tearful eyes, and Virgil melting into the shadows and leaving. In Roman’s hands was his favorite toy sword, now bent beyond usable. “Oh Roman, what happened?”

“Virgil broke it! He’s a big meanie!” Thomas glanced up the stairs, where Virgil had disappeared. Not hearing Patton talking to him in the living room or Logan asking him questions in Virgil’s room meant he probably wasn’t anywhere in the house. Of course of all the sons to disappear after an emotional outburst it just had to be the one who could teleport.

“Were you two playing and it broke, or was he mad and broke it?”

“We were playing, and he was holdin’ it, and then he smacked it against the wall and it broke!”

“Do you think he meant to break it?” Roman huffed, wiping at his eyes before crossing his arms.

“...No, but he still broke it.” A bit of relief filled Thomas at that, but he would never tell Roman. Son or not, he wasn’t sure if we would know how to calm down an angry bogeyman that intentionally breaks his adopted brother’s toys.

“Do you know where Virgil went?” Roman blinked, the question breaking him out of his anger for a moment. He looked back up the stairs, eyes glancing around for a moment, surprised at Virgil’s absence, before huffing and turning back around.

“...No, but good riddance! He broke my sword!” Thomas took a deep breath. Okay, so Virgil could be anywhere. Now he just had to hope he was somewhere with a stable connection; maybe he could call him. If not, he might’ve just lost a son. His heart began to pound at that, but he hid his worry before Roman could see.

Right, he had to deal with Roman first. He slowly took the broken sword from Roman’s hands, rubbing gentle circles into his back. “I’ll see if I can fix this. If it can bend without breaking, I might be able to bend it back. Why don’t you watch some cartoons with Patton while I give that a try?”

“But what if you end up breaking it more?”

“Then I can get you a new one. We might even be able to get you a new one today if you want.”

Roman whimpered. “But I like mine.”

“I know you do, bud. But sometimes...things break and have to be replaced. Nothing lasts forever.” Thomas glanced up the stairs, hoping to see Virgil returning. Still missing. “I’ll need you to apologize to Virgil later, okay? You said a lot of mean things to him, and probably made him feel really bad. And he’ll have to apologize for breaking your toy. Sound good?”

Roman was still clearly upset, but he nodded anyway, staring down at his feet as he thought. Thomas ushered him into the living room to distract him with the TV, then sent a text to Virgil’s phone, hoping he would get it.

Virgil had gone back to his cave. After officially moving in with his dad and brothers, he had expected to never want to—or feel the need to—come back here. But it was just as cold as he remembered. He sat with his back against the wall, staring through unfocused eyes as the shadows on the other side of the cave seemed to taunt him.

Maybe they were. Maybe they were thinking “what an idiot, caring for humans. It’d never work out in the end. Something always goes wrong.” At least that was what he was thinking. He knew how quickly humans could turn on other humans, it would make sense for them to turn on him much quicker.

His body was still weighed down by guilt. He broke Roman’s favorite toy, of course he would be mad. Virgil knew if one of them had broken something of his, he would probably be pretty upset. His words still rang in his ears, though.

He’d stay in the cave until things might have settled down. Then maybe he’d go back and talk to Dad.

Virgil was gone for two days by the time Roman felt just as much guilt and fear as the bogeyman himself was feeling. Thomas was trying his best to stay calm, knowing Virgil was fully capable of taking care of himself, but that fatherly panic was beginning to take over.

Virgil had told him about the cave he used to live in, and Thomas assumed that he had gone to stay there. But he had no clue where it was. As far as he knew, Virgil could be in some sort of Floridian cave less than a mile away or a cave all the way in Australia. He kept texting and calling in hopes that he would answer, but the chances of him having wi-fi in a cave was slim to nil.

He told Remus about Virgil’s disappearance, hoping that the only other person with demon children would know where his cave was. What he got as his answer was Remus putting him on hold for a whole hour, then coming back to say a terrifyingly serious “I’m on the case” before being hung up on. Whatever Remus was up to only made him more worried.

Virgil hadn’t expected to start his third day in his cave being tackled by two other bogeymen. He let out a startled curse as the two slammed into him and shoved him into the shadows, taking him with them back to their home. He growled, glaring at the two kids and preparing to fight back, before realizing where he was.

Remus bopped his head with a rolled-up newspaper, Emile grinning eagerly behind him. “Hey there Vee!” Virgil sighed, his heart rate beginning to drop back to normal.

“Hey...”

“Uncle Thomas has been real worried about you.” Remus spoke, looking the newspaper over in his hands as if it were a weapon.

“He has?” Virgil tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

“Well fuckin’ duh! He wouldn’t have called me of all people if he wasn’t!”

“Did he ask you to get your kids to kidnap me?”

“No, that was my idea.” Emile responded happily, bringing Virgil over to the couch and giving him a cup of hot chocolate. “I thought it’d be funny. Sorry if it scared you.”

“It’s fine, I guess.” Virgil watched as Janus stuck his tongue out at him, a grin on his face as he ran off down to his bedroom, Remy following soon after. Remus kicked his feet up on the coffee table, looking at him expectantly.

“So you gonna teleport back home, or do ya want one of us to drive you there like a human?” Virgil couldn’t answer. It was nice to hear that Dad was worried, but he was more concerned about how Roman felt. Emile seemed to sense his unease, ruffling his hair a bit.

“Thomas told us what happened, and Roman’s really sorry. This sort of thing just sort of happens with kids. Kids as old as your brothers get upset really easily and say things they don’t mean.” A warm smile spread across his face, slowing Virgil’s skipping heart and steadying his constantly anxious mind.

“Roman doesn’t actually hate you, especially not because of just one mess-up. Kids’ brains aren’t exactly developed enough to properly respond to things that upset them, anyway, so this is pretty normal.” Virgil nodded slowly, staring down at the hot chocolate in his hands.

Remus giggled excitedly, saying in the most affectionate voice Virgil had ever heard “I bet you could destroy the world with those smarts, Lilo and Switch.” Emile’s cheeks turned red, and his smile was redirected at his boyfriend.

“It’s just basic developmental psychology, nothing but fifteen minutes of googling will tell you this much.” Remus just hummed happily. Emile turned his attention back to Virgil. “So what do you say? You wanna go back now, or wait a bit?” Virgil pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He did miss the house...and his room...and his family.

He sighed, his anxiety failing as he placed down the cup of hot chocolate, stood up, and without another word dropped into the shadows.

Virgil appeared in his room, relieved (and for whatever reason a bit upset) that no one was there. He gulped, debating whether it would be more awkward to walk out and find the others or just wait there until someone comes in. But Dad decided that for him, singing a song from a musical he hadn’t shown Virgil yet as he went about cleaning the house.

Dad stared up at him, expression blank as his brain tried to figure out what was going on. The memory of their first time seeing each other face-to-face played in Virgil’s head—and wow, he looked just as confused as he did back then.

The lightbulb went off in his brain and his eyes widened, dropping his cleaning supplies and pulling him into a hug, letting out a relieved, almost delirious laugh. “Oh thank goodness you’re okay!” Warmth filled Virgil’s heart as he hugged back as best he could, his arms pinned to his sides by Dad’s tight grip. “You were at your cave, right? I really need to figure out where that place is.”

“Janus and Remy know, Emile sent them to kidnap me and bring me to their place.”

Dad pulled away, eyes wide. “They kidnapped—” He stumbled over his words, sounding both alarmed and confused, before going silent. “You know what, I’m not even surprised.”

“Yeah, those guys are weird.”

“How did those kids know where the cave was, though?” Virgil shrugged.

“I think all three of us were formed there, they just never actually lived there. That’s my best guess at least.”

“Well...I’m just glad they found you. We’ve all been really worried.” Virgil heard four small feet running up the stairs and over to his door, two faces peering in. Smiles spread across Logan and Patton’s faces as they practically tackled Virgil to the ground, clinging onto him as if he’d disappear if they let go. Virgil hugged them back, just happy to see them again.

Then he heard another pair of feet run up the stairs, and Roman appeared in the doorway. Virgil gave him an uneasy smile. “I’m...sorry for breaking your toy, Ro, I didn’t mean—”

Roman’s lip began to quiver and tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran to hug Virgil, clinging on tightly as he babbled out apologies until his words were completely unintelligible. Virgil awkwardly hushed him, running a hand through his hair as his incoherent babbling began to die down. “It’s fine, Ro, I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine!” Roman whined. “You disappeared for two days and I was really mean to you and I thought you’d never come back and I’m sorry!” Virgil looked to Dad, hoping he would be able to help. Dad came over and gently shushed Roman, saying “Virgil’s here now, he’s not gonna leave, we’re all gonna be okay, bud.”

Roman slowly calmed down, tears no longer falling from his eyes and breathing beginning to steady. Dad asked Logan and Patton to go back downstairs while he talked with Roman and Virgil. He had to make sure his two oldest kids would be okay.

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marzeline · 4 years

Text

So i heard y’all like religious symbolism in She Ra, so i decided to offer my own knowledge from 17 years spent in a very strict Orthodox household.

I’m gonna talk particularly about one specific moment in “Save the Cat” because I haven’t seen anyone pointing it out before.

When I was first watching this episode, devastated and overwhelmed by emotions, I still felt a bit of a... déjà vu? I have definitely seen these images before, but where? And then it hit me.

Everywhere. I have seen these scenes all my life. Glorified them even. Let me give you a little bit of context...

My family (and my country predominantly) is part of the Christian Eastern-Orthodox Church. The western world is not that familiar with this specific part of the church, but it’s basically presented as Christianity as it was preached in the beginning. In 1054, the East-West Schism happened, when the institution of the Church and Religion as a whole split into the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Churches. It happened from various reasons like changes in the doctrine and political reasons but I will not go into details here.

Since their departure, the Catholic and Orthodox Church developed even more differences - one of them being the decoration of the church.

While Catholics use mainly statues and mosaic, Orthodox practice allows the use of only icons (there is no exact term in English from what I have found, but think Icoană in Romanian or Икона in Russian), which are basically pictures.

And you have probably seen pictures or icoane as well - here is an widely used image in the western world of Jesus Christ

The images that you’re used to seeing have realistic details, but this isn’t what I’m used to seeing. Because in the Eastern Church, we use the byzantine style of art (Greek), the one used in the old times. The artist’s goal isn’t to portray the characters and scenes realistically, but to have a symbolic sketch that dehumanizes them (ig you won’t look at an icon and fall in love with the face, you won’t be distracted by earthly things).

With this out of the way, let me show you what I meant when I said I have seen those scenes before. There are 3 of them, the last one being the most important, and while you can find so many other icons, these are the few that I have selected:

Now here me out: Jesus is Great. My views on religion have changed a lot, but I still think Jesus was the greatest man to ever live. His lessons were revolutionary at the time, and his teachings are still passed on.

In Orthodox traditions, we believe God has three personas that are different and independent, but one in God: The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit. The Church is raising you as a family, with the priest addressing the community as “brothers and sisters (in Christ)” and we pray to our divine Father.

Now let me tell you why I have selected these specific icons: The Baptize of Christ, Jesus saving Adam from Eternal Damnation, The Apostle and Jesus AND the last one that I’m gonna talk about a little bit later.

In scene one, we see Catra coming with the clones. Her hair is wet and later we find out that she has been “purified”. When undergoing this same process, Horde Prime told Hordak that his fault was his pride: how dare he think he is worthy to stand besides Horde Prime, Hordak was a mere clone created “in his image”

“So God created man in His own image” Genesis 1:27

Hordak forgotten who he is. He shall be reminded.

The Orthodox Church has 7 great rituals, but the most important ones are considered the Baptize, the Eucharist and The Ceremony that you undergo at Death.

Let’s talk about the Baptize because they look wildly similar to me. We believe that everyone is born carrying the original sin - that’s why it doesn’t matter how good of the person you were during your life, you go to Hell. But when Jesus came to Earth, He taught us how to be baptized in the name of the Lord. The process of The Baptize reclaims you as one of Lord’s sheeps and saves your soul (doesn’t guarantee you’re going to Heaven either; just opens the possibility). It purifies you of the original sin and makes you reborn, ready to join the big family that is the Church. Sounds familiar?

The Symbol of the Baptize is easy to spot, definetly out there for a reason, a scary, twisting interpretation of a ritual that is viewed as sacred by the community.

Catra kneels 2 times in front of Horde Prime. The second time she does it in Adoration at HP’s altar, when she is brought for Adora to see (see the first image), but the first time she does it when she is brought defiant after helping Glimmer escape. That’s the moment of her Judgement.

In the second image, Prime is holding her hand and Catra lovingly accepts it while being raised from the ground. It’s sickening to see because you know the character, you know her desires and history and holding HP’s hand while being embraced by him doesn’t really hit her persona.

Now let’s look at this in detail again

Here is the moment when Jesus, dead, is lowering to Hell (like I said, before Jesus, no one could go to Heaven) to save the worthy ones (like Abraham and David and Adam - the first man, the one that lived almost 1000 years). Yes, Adam sinned in the Eden, but in the Bible we’re being told that he had lived a righteous life overall. Adam was a good man and he deserved to go to Heaven after he died. But he didn’t, so Jesus could come and free him. He raises him from Hell and saves him. Heaven is now opened for Adam. HP is doing the same for Catra here.

And last, but certainly not least, we have the third image. I have rewatched this episode so many times since its release and I always, always stop at that scene with my blood frozen in my veins. The resemblance it’s terrifying. That frame alone, shows you every Christian’s biggest dream. Jesus and the Apostle. You being saved. God accepting you. Loving you even. It doesn’t matter how much you love God, He always loves you more. How could you not stare in adoration? All your adoration will never be enough for He is just That Great.

Catra does it, the clones do it, and we do it as well - we’re content being in His Graces. I don’t think I will ever be able to explain how much that scene scares me. Because we, as the audience, know that is wrong. That is not Catra. She’s so many people’s favorite character for a reason! She’s obnoxious and loud and mischievous and disrespectful and cunning and fast and mean but caring and she loves Adora! We know that and we expect to see that every time she’s on the screen. Seeing the complete opposite of her... is wrong.

“Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

The last icon: the one where Jesus greets the kids into his arms and promises them heaven and peace. That is how the clones and the ones being chipped are looking at HP. This is what they think they will find under his protection. Spinerella always mentions how happy they are under his rule and Catra?

“My place is with Horde Prime, I don’t want to leave”

“Prime has given me peace. Something you could never do.”

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have access by faith into his grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” Romans 5:1-2

I’m gonna tell you from my own experience: I came out as bisexual to my mother (who is definitely the most religious person you’re ever gonna meet) at 13. She wasn’t mad. She tried to deny it but I stopped her cold. You know what she said? I will pray for you. Everyone has their own stuggles and the devil tempts us in many ways. You’ll have to fight these urges all your life and never act on them, but you’ll be rewarded. You will find peace in God.

For my mother, God is the giver of peace and my attraction to the same gender is what actually troubles me. My struggle is because of my sins.

I’m sure that conversation remained forgotten in her memory, but I will never be able to forget it. For the Church (Horde Prime here representing organized religion) homosexuals are sad, confused and unhappy - because they don’t know the peace of the Lord. No one can be happy, if not in the light of Horde Prime God.

I don’t know if there is ever gonna be a time in my life when that scene won’t terrify me. It’s reminding me of everything that I was for others, for everything that I thought I wanted for myself. At 14 I would wake up praying to be killed just so I can die in God’s light before sinning. Catra is also a victim of abuse, and you could never never never understand what is that about unless you have experienced it first hand. In the episode she is being mind-controlled, not far from others have experienced due to indoctrination. But to be so codependent, to Adora first (and probably always - that’s just how childhood trauma works) Shadow Weaver and then to HP?

This breaks my heart in so many places, but it also gives me hope. You can still get the chip out. You can still open your eyes. And you can still love! There is no fear in love.

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yastaghr · 4 years

Text

Our Skeleton 35

Here’s the latest chapter of OS (wow there are a lot, and still so many more to come!). This chapter brought to you by Flowey.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563223/chapters/58647709

Flowey watched the servants from a distance. They looked panicked in their tight gathering around the front door. He knew that those lousy parent-creatures would be back soon. The looks on the servants’ faces told him that. And those same looks told him they were really worried. For one thing, they all had been trained not to show their emotions with their faces or magic, and all of them were radiating worry. Then there was their hands. Some were clenched. Others were wringing. A select few were fighting with the locks. It was those ones which Flowey was watching closest.

Flowey watched them through the lens of one of the telescopes that the smiley trash bag had left in the Underground. The servants didn’t seem to have any clue what to do to break the epoxy. He rolled his eyes. Couldn’t these idiots see enough to call a locksmith? Geez, what idiots.

He didn’t bother to stick around to see how they solved the problem. He had chaos to report on, after all.

=====

T.N. Roman stared with twitching brows at the devastation that was once his garden. It looked like a tornado had spun through a barnyard and dumped it all in a compost heap. There were battered foliage and flowers. There were piles of poop. There were hoofprints in the gravel and mud. It was absolute chaos, and Roman hated chaos.

He abruptly turned his back on the carnage and snapped his fingers. Instantly the gardening staff, who were arrayed behind him and disgustingly radiating apprehension, stood to attention. He glared at them. “YOU WILL CLEAN UP THIS… MESS. YOU WILL DO IT NOW. I EXPECT FOR THIS GARDEN TO BE BACK TO ITS FORMER GLORY IN LESS THAN A WEEK. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

“Yes, sir!”

All of them said it in perfect unison, just like they were trained to do. Roman let an amused little smile come across his face. He had spent hours getting all his staff to the point where, when they responded, it was harmonious. Chaos could not be tolerated. At least here it hadn’t encroached on his sanctuary.

“VERY GOOD. YOU ARE DISMISSED,” He said with a wave. The only reason they didn’t immediately get to work was because they knew they had to take the time to salute. After that they instantly started working.

Roman nodded and headed back into the house to deal with the rest of this mess. It was so much easier when he could solve his problems with murder. He’d gotten it down to an art form, avoiding being caught. Those pesky dogs back in Snowdin had been child’s play for a monster as accomplished as him. He didn’t bother keeping track of how many people he had killed after the war. At LV 15 it had to be a lot, but no one seemed to bother to check or keep track, least of all him. His wife might, but, then again… maybe not. She could be remarkably scatterbrained.

=====

Coursiva stared at the shredded fabric with puzzlement hidden in her soul. She could have sworn that this was her closet and not the scraps room, but maybe she was mistaken. It certainly looked like the scraps room. She spun on her heel to face the nervous maid (a new hire who was still in training) and asked, “maid, is this the scraps room or my closet? i can’t seem to remember these things.”

“I-I-It’s the closet, my lady,” The Whimsum girl stuttered.

Coursiva frowned. That wouldn’t do. She should be merciful, however. The stars knew her husband wouldn’t be. “go downstairs to see the housekeeper and tell her you have been let go. also, tell her to send up another maid.”

The girl swallowed and bowed in mid air. “Y-y-yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady.” Then, in the space of a few seconds, she was gone.

Coursiva let her face relax into its usual diplomatic smile and inwardly fumed. Why was it so hard to find decent help these days? It seemed like no one knew how to school their countenances anymore, like a certain someone she had- No. She had promised her husband that she would never think of either of them again, and Coursiva hated to break a promise. She might be scatterbrained, but she could remember her promises. She made so few of them that it wasn’t hard.

What would be hard would be cleaning up this mess. Coursiva took in the remnants of her clothes with perfectly concealed anguish. She loved her clothes. She loved to design them, she loved to wear them, she loved to make them, she loved them. Now all her prizes of hard work were absolutely irreparable. If she had been a lesser monster she would have cried. As it was she sniffed disdainfully at the carnage.

That was a mistake. A thread from some dress of hers that had been floating in the air was sucked up into her nasal cavity. She sneezed, and, if anyone had been there to see it, they would have said it was the sneeze of a kitten. Not any kitten, though. No, this was the sneeze of a kitten with an URI, because it sprayed snot all over the room.

Coursiva took the sight of the indigo snot that was glueing the shredded fabric together fast. Then she turned her back on her problems like she always did and headed into the bathroom to take a hot bath in the whirlpool tub.

=====

The smell seemed to permeate everything they did, now. That haunting, rotten stench followed them like a curse. They threw out all the food in the house. It remained. They had the servants clean the house. It remained. They replaced the fridges and freezers. It remained. No matter what they did that smell remained.

It was only when, in a fit of private fury that even the servants weren’t witness to, Roman shattered all the furniture in their bedroom, that they figured out what the cause of it was. Coursiva stared in disgust at the thing that had come out of their curtain rods. She had no idea what it once had been. Now it was a moldy, rotten chunk of grossness that she had no intention of touching.

Roman, too, was staring at it. His face and magic gave off no clue as to what he was feeling. Eventually he said, “WE MUST GET THE SERVANTS TO REPLACE ALL THE CURTAIN RODS IN THE HOUSE. OPENING THEM TO CHECK FOR THIS… SUBSTANCE… WOULD ONLY RELEASE THE SMELL MORE.”

Coursiva nodded her agreement. “i’ve been wanting to replace those rods for a while now. the finial really is too old fashioned for the current design of our house. something more modern would be much more agreeable.”

“THAT IS, OF COURSE, UP TO YOU. I WILL INSTRUCT THE CHIEF OF STAFF TO SEE TO IT. PLEASE PICK THE DESIGN YOU DESIRE AND HE WILL SEE TO IT,” Roman said shortly.

The two of them then turned their back on the lump of dead shrimp and headed off in opposite directions; Coursiva headed to the garage to ask her chauffeur to take her to her favorite furniture design store and Roman walked into the bathroom to take a long, hot bath. He wanted to be rid of the feeling of anger and knew that relaxing would do it. Neither of them cared about the carnage they left behind. The servants would see to it. It would hardly be the first time.

#our skeleton fanfic #flowey #chaos #sansgoriel #yastaghr

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schmergo · 5 years

Text

The Winter’s Tale at American Shakespeare Center: Informal Review

It’s less than two weeks until auditions for the production of The Winter’s Tale that I’m directing this summer, so my friend and I went down to the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton last weekend to get some inspiration and get hyped… and it worked! Ever since, I’ve felt compelled to write one of my little informal reviews, so here goes!

If you’ve never been to ASC, first of all, you should. It’s my favorite place to see Shakespeare’s plays in the entire world. They’re this little recreation of Shakespeare’s indoor Blackfriars Playhouse (fancy people saw shows there in winter months in London), a cozy and intimate place that replicates Renaissance traditions like keeping the lights on through the show and using a small ensemble of actors to play multiple roles. But just because they take Shakespeare seriously doesn’t mean they take themselves seriously. Their shows are always fun, energetic, pleasantly irreverent, and full of creative little surprises in staging. They always pull out the spirit of the show. Another thing that they do is incorporate lots of music into the shows—they present a lively preshow and intermission mini-concert featuring the talented troupe of actors playing instruments and singing folksy renditions of contemporary tunes. My favorite this time was “Mr. Brightside,” sung by the actor who played King Leontes. For those unfamiliar with The Winter’s Tale… well, that song is extremely fitting for Leontes’ state of mind.

The Winter’s Tale is—there’s no doubt about it—one of Shakespeare’s weirder plays. One part tense psychological drama and one part comedic pastoral romance separated by a 16-year time gap, it somehow all comes together in the end with a magical, intensely moving family reunion. I used to dislike this show, and I still think that on paper, it’s not Shakespeare’s best work, but seeing an imaginative production at the Folger Shakespeare Library the other year was a revelation to me: this show could be unbelievably powerful to watch if acted by passionate actors who are truly absorbed in their characters journeys without winking. As one character, Paulina, says in the play’s final act, “It is required that you awake your face.” Even the smallest shred of cynicism can shatter the delicate illusion that Shakespeare creates in The Winter’s Tale. Its plot is as fragile, intricate, and impractical as a Faberge egg.

I’ve seen six productions of The Winter’s Tale. Four of them only reinforced my snarky feelings about it. The Folger’s reimagined, highly original take on it was a breath of fresh air. ASC’s was different. It completely captured and reflected Shakespeare’s play for better AND worse, without doing any rewriting or reorganizing to cover up some of the play’s more awkward moments. It was unapologetic and authentic. All in all, it was emotionally exhilarating yet messy.

The story goes thusly: King Leontes of Sicilia is hosting his best friend, King Polixenes of Bohemia, for a long stay at his palace when he suddenly begins to suspect that his wife, Queen Hermione, has been cheating with his bestie. This is especially worrisome because Hermione is pregnant. Although she is actually totally innocent, Leontes’ paranoia spirals out of control until he tears apart his own family and destroys multiple lives—yet lost family members sometimes come back in the most unexpected way.

The final scene of the play, when done well, is a transcendent moment that brings tears to the most jaded eyes. I always judge a production’s Leontes—and, really, the production itself—on whether that final scene feels deserved, whether I want that happy family reunion for the penitent king. ASC’s Ronald Roman-Melendez completely delivered. I wanted his happy ending so badly that my heart was pounding.

Roman-Melendez took a surprisingly long time to fully inhabit his character, however. In Act 1, he struggled a little with Leontes’ fragmented speech, sometimes seeming not to understand when Leontes’ phrases change direction. Some lines came out disappointingly Shatnerian. “Oh boy, this’ll be a long night,” I thought glumly, anticipating four more acts of this. But I needn’t have worried. When Leontes’ madness hit its full pitch in Act 3, Roman-Melendez crafted an incredibly complex portrait of conflict, sleep deprivation, rage and mental disorientation that was so believable that it was scary—and pitiable. After the play’s time skip, he beautifully reflected the passing of sixteen years of guilt, grief, and pious contemplation, his eyes sad but his voice warm. Leontes is, in my opinion, one of the most challenging roles ever written by Shakespeare, and even the most talented actors often don’t seem to get it. Roman-Melendez is one of the few actors I’ve seen who seem to understand that Leontes’ tyranny is not an expression of strength. He craves control only because he’s completely out of control.

As Leontes’ queen Hermione, Ally Farzetta resembles a Renaissance painting of the virgin Mary, with beautiful long dark hair, pensive features, and a halo-like headdress that seems to hint at her virtuous nature. Her Hermione is both playful and elegant, gentle yet strong. When she tells us in Act 2 that she is not prone to weeping as many of her sex are, it’s not bragging but overly naïve: she has no idea what kind of horrors will befall her. When she later appears bedraggled at her public trial, too soon after childbirth, her husband resolutely facing away from her, she cries. I cried with her. Farzetta doubles delightfully as a ditzy shepherdess named Mopsa before a stirringly emotional turn in Act 5.

The most powerful player in the ensemble was unquestionably Annabelle Rollison, who plays Leontes’ sharp-tongued advisor, Paulina. This may be a little unfair because Paulina is probably the coolest character in the play, with daring one-liners like “It is a heretic that makes the fire, not she that burns in it,” but Rollison takes a role that could be a one-note ‘strong female character’ and makes her utterly real: proud, emotional, manipulative, loving, devastated, hopeful, and much more. Her words feel like a punch in the gut half the time and an encouraging arm around the shoulders the other half the time. She commands the stage in every scene with a confident, stately bearing. (Her shepherdess character is even goofier than Ally Farzetta’s. The character’s name is Dorcas. That’s all you need to know.)

Topher Embrey stole every scene as the adorably gullible Shepherd’s Son, an overgrown child with a sunny disposition and a fondness for the ukulele. Embrey plays the Shepherd’s Son (aka Clown) as unaware of his own strength to hilarious effect and, with his warm voice and wide eyes, is one of the most lovable lugs you’ll ever see. No wonder the two shepherdesses squabble so much over him—that and the fact that he carries more money than is good for him.

As young lovers Perdita and Prince Florizel, Constance Swain and Josh Clark show strong chemistry and energy and wonderful dance skills, as wild and free as you’d expect Bohemian revellers to be. They’re a treat to watch, yet I couldn’t help but feel some elements of their characterization could have been more carefully calibrated. Swain’s Perdita, though utterly lovely, came across as more 'manic pixie dream girl' than regal, no matter how much other characters commented that she seemed too great for her humble surroundings. Clark’s Florizel was a hair more petulant and irritable than I’d like to see in the impulsive poet-Prince.

The rest of the ensemble was good, though some characters (especially wise advisor Camillo) made less of an impression than I'm used to seeing. The energetic Madeline Calais failed to entertain as the mischievous peddler and scam-artist Autolycus, but that's not exactly her fault-- I've never found that character amusing in any of the productions I've seen. The scenes featuring Autolycus dragged even with the presence of audience favorite Topher Embrey.

Jessica Van Essen's sumptuous costumes enhanced every scene. She dressed Sicilia's royals and courtiers in formal Renaissance garb, with Leontes decked out in regal purple, while creating colorful costumes for the foreign land of Bohemia that seemed equally inspired by traditional Turkish, Ukrainian, and Bavarian dress. Plenty of flower crowns, silk jackets, intricate patterns, and a cool turban for Kenn Hopkins' commanding King Polixenes. In Act 5, Leontes appeared in a huge fur cape that seemed to represent the weight of sorrows heaped upon his shoulders.

Special effects were simple, as is common at ASC, but well-timed thunder sounds were often used to dramatic effect. The famous bear, simply played by an actor in furry costume, was nonetheless effective, both brutal and darkly comedic. One more modern touch included an automated pedestal that glided out across ASC's stage in the play's final scene-- a departure from the usual low-tech staging conventions, but magical enough to fit seamlessly into the play. "If this be magic, let it be an art as lawful as eating." I sobbed through the final scene.

Though this may not have been a perfect production of Winter's Tale, it was a wonderful recreation of Shakespeare's charmingly imperfect play. If you get the chance to go down to Staunton, don't miss it!

I can't wait for auditions!

#American Shakespeare Center #asc #shakespeare #the winter's tale #theatre #asc blackfriars #blackfriars

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 6 years

Note

"This is more important right now." for the sentence starters?

Title: Wide Awake

Headcanon: You knowthose random impulses of inspiration you get at 3am? Sometimes when Roman won’tgo to sleep and keeps working, he keeps the others up with his ideas.

Words: 777

Ships: platonic LAMP

Sorry for the wait, anon! I actually ended up using the sentence in the middle of the story, but I promise you that it’s in there. Hope you enjoy!

Patton doesn’t minddreams. He loves them, excluding nightmares for obvious reasons. He’s not justMorality—he’s Thomas’ emotions, his inner child. So of course, dreams likeflying or riding unicorns would bring him joy. It’s only when they invade hismind outside of sleep that they worry him.

He steps outside hisdoor, wearing a pair of blue pjs and his favorite cat slippers.

“You’re awake too?”

Virgil stumbled towardshim with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders in lieu of his hoodie.

“Yup, kiddo, ‘fraid so.”Patton chuckled, placing hands on his hips.

Virgil frowned.

“This is bad. Usually I’mthe only one affected by it.”

“I agree with thatassessment.” A third voice joined in.

The two looked over tosee a very disgruntled Logan standing there in his unicorn onesie.

“We three might as wellgo over and talk some sense into him.” Logan stated, taking the lead.

Virgil and Pattontrailed after him to Roman’s room at the end of the hallway. His door was asolid oak painted white with gold accents. Logan knocked on the door threetimes precisely.

“It’s open!” A muffled,distracted voice announced from within.

Logan opened the door,and the three of them filed into Roman’s bedroom. Papers were scattered throughoutthe room, as if a hurricane had torn through it and in a way, there still was one.Roman sat at the eye of said hurricane, furiously scribbling away.

“Look, whatever it is,make it snappy. I got a lot on my plate right now.”

“Roman, you need to go to sleep, kiddo.” Patton spoke softly.

“I’ll sleep after Ifinish this idea.”

“Sleep is more important—”Logan started

“This is moreimportant right now.” Roman interrupted angrily.

Logan, Patton and Virgil all shared a look.

“It’s 3:00 am, Roman, what could possibly be more important thansleep right now?” Virgil groaned.

“Look, Debbie Downer, you don’t understand—when inspirationstrikes, I heed its’ call!” Roman whipped his head towards his direction, “It’s—it’slike a siren! I can’t ignore its’ illustrious song.”

Roman gestured dramatically with his pen.

“Roman, Thomas’ needs you to be at your best tomorrow. Youcan’t function at your optimal capacity if you don’t get some rest.” Logan pressed.

“I—I know that!” Roman ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll manageit. I just need to finish this idea. If you all would just stop badgering meand go back to sleep—”

“We can’t because you’re keeping us—Thomas—awake with yourideas!” Virgil erupted, glaring from the comfort of his blanket.

“Oh,” Roman muttered, his eyes widening in shock, “I’m doingit again, aren’t I?”

“It’s alright, kiddo, we know you mean well,” Patton pattedhis back, “It’s okay to get excited by an idea, just don’t let it start toaffect your physical health. There’s always time tomorrow to work on it.”

“I—I didn’t mean to hurt Thomas or you guys. I just couldn’tstop—” Roman shook his head, agitated.

“I get it,” Virgil mumbled, offering Roman an apologeticglance, “Stage nerves, right?”

Roman averted his eyes to the ground, hands curling intofists.

“It’s my fault—”

“No,” Roman cut Virgil off with a wave of his hand, “Not—noteverything’s about you, Doom and Gloom. It’s only natural for me to get…excitedabout tomorrow. I thought I could use some of that energy as fuel forinspiration. I did not mean to pull the rest of you into it. I promise I’ll go to bed.”

Patton and Logan shared a look.

“Slumber party!” Patton cheered.

“Wh-what?” Roman spluttered indignantly.

“We are staying here to make sure you get some rest,” Loganexplained, “Unless you think you can trusted to do nothing else but sleep?”

Roman hesitated.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Patton grinned, glancing over toVirgil, “You’ll join us, right, Virge?”

“Sure.” Virgil said, a smile ghosting his lips.

“Oh, alright!” Roman said, “If you really insist.”

Roman acted put out by the whole ordeal, rolling his eyes ashe conjured up a bed large enough to contain the four of them. But the othersall knew it was to save face. They could tell by the way his lips curved upwardshe was grateful for their help. Without them, he’d keep on his self-destructivepath until morning hit.

Patton, though, was always good at coaxing the others’ trueemotions out of them.

“Y’know, Princey, we’ll be proud of you and Thomas no matterwhat happens tomorrow,” Patton said, yawning as he leaned his head againstRoman’s shoulder.

As Patton drifted off to sleep, he heard a very faint voicesay, “Thank you.”

Send me the first sentence of a story and I’ll write a short fanfic!

Tag list:

My fic tag list: @yourhappypappypatton @enderdurant @seas-space-and-stardust

Platonic LAMP tag list:

@sanders-sides-thuri@trivia-goddess@vivimarius@storytellerofuntoldlegends@strangerthings-and-phan@completelyclevername@watch-me-introvert@sarcastic-anxious @piquantdanny@emokittenlikesgore@confinesofpersonalknowledge@fandergecko@urtrashhq@thegirlwiththedragonheart@too-random-for-me@hissesssss@whyamihereohwell@staticmythical@deathbyvenusftw@just-another-transblog@kickassking14@inkyroo@staticsanders@callboxkat@allthemetalsoftherainbow@panicatthefalloutphanficfandom@depressed-alone@theroyalramen@hikariyukino@icbatocomeupwithausername@unknownsandersfan@magicmapleleaf @pieces-of-annedrew@saphirestrike@asalwayss@romanssippycup@virgils-anxiety@redundant-statements-for-400@skylagamingfea@clueingforblogs@ladynikitablack@pastel-patton123@bbcanimefangirl@dibleopard@vampyrsarah@haikyuupaladin @all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2@hghrules@migraine-marathon@samidaboss3@proudhufflepuff@alextheodd@sandersfanders @pansexual-cat@hanramz-the-fander@anastasialestina@darude-sanderstorm@madelynnaa@anarchx-kestrel@kurna-kovite@sanders-sides-shambles@royallyanxious@thestoryofme13@i-will-physically-fight-you@a-blog-just-for-sanders@randomslasher@trashfireiplier@the-optimism-of-the-ostriches@221biotchplease@lacandra@pattonly-absurd@starry-eyed-haiku-dreamer@digitally-analog@my-happy-little-bean@pattykrabbies@shygirl4991@sides-of-a-sunset@musicphanpie-b@superintrovertfangirl@sugarblob0@silversunshine2012@sanders-sides-posts@lockolocka@nightly_illustrator @makemeaplant@today-only-happens-once@spacevirgil@rainbow-sides@koalaaquabear@catsandrandomness@rose-gold-roman@mockingjaysinger@musicsavedmefromdeath@devastate-my-space@anachronistic-cat@heythereprincey

#thomas sanders #sander sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #platonic lamp

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centurionmaiacruz · 6 years

Text

And the Flashback Starts || Leo & Maia

After one of Leo and Maia’s usual “modeling” sessions, an old painting comes to light, leading to a discussion about love lost, family tension, and what could have been.

Pulling her shirt back on over her head, Maia wandered around Leo’s studio, looking at some of his other artwork. Besides the obvious benefits of their arrangement, Maia was always very interested in his work. She didn’t have much artistic ability of her own, so it was nice to see other people succeed in something that was just so creative and freeform. Leo’s art was also an interesting way of seeing into who he was, what he was feeling, where his head was at. Which was something that she couldn’t always see. As she walked around the studio, a painting caught her eye. She was used to seeing paintings of other models, but there was something about this particular one that captured her attention. She was beautiful, of course she was, but there was something else underneath the beauty.

“I haven’t seen this one before. Is it new?” Maia asked, glancing over her shoulder to look at Leo. “Or did you just want to revisit it?”

Leo had been looking for a painting he had done months ago when he has stumbled upon the older painting of Bobbi. It had been a Valentine’s Day where Leo was alone, sad and wallowing a particularly deep hole of ‘what if’. Bobbi was easily Leo’s biggest what if. And so he had tried to pour all of the love he still felt for the girl into a canvas. The end result was Bobbi bathed in light pink light, her face looking down and forlorn. The undertones were blues, as usual of Leo, instead of using skin tones using brighter colors. She was beautiful, but slightly sad. She was quite easily one of his best moments paintings. He sat up to look up at Maia and his face morphed into a mix of soft sadness and adoration. “I did it a year ago. I was looking for a different painting and found it. It’s one of my favorites.”

Regarding the painting, Maia tilted her head as she took in the lighting, the colors. It was a soft melancholy, an emotion mirrored in Leo’s expression. There was something about the girl that meant more than the painting—she wasn’t just an image on canvas. “It’s beautiful.” She said quietly and nodded. “I can see why it’s your favorite.” She replied as she turned to look at him. There was something very quiet about him right now, something to do with the painting. “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Maia commented, her use of the present tense very deliberate. There was something about this girl that still affected him, even now.

Leo was sure he would always love her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get over her. There were moments when he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love anyone else. He avoided romantic involvements specifically for that. “Valentine’s Day is a good day for inspiration.” He sighed, not upset or annoyed but almost tired. “Yes. She very easily changed my life and made me a different man. She was my first love. Bobbi Truman, future lead neurosurgeon of the nation.”

Maia resisted the urge to wince. Valentine’s Day. The day practically dedicated to her father and the chaos he caused among love stricken people. And, of course, those who were hearbroken. “I can imagine.” Maia nodded. Bobbi Truman. “A neurosurgeon?” Any kind of surgeon had to be absolutely brilliant, which honestly made a lot of sense for Leo. “Beautiful and brilliant. What happened to her..?” Maia asked cautiously, not wanting to pry too much. She didn’t want to drudge up the past if it hurt him.

Valentine’s Day was a hard day for Leo. Not only was it the day to represent all love, but It was Bobbi’s birthday. So, of course, he would text her to wish her a good day and often spend the rest of the day looking at that text. “Yep. That was how she introduced herself to me the first time we met. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.” His fingers drummed against his knee. “She went to New York. We were high school sweethearts, we even planned out our move there together. I backed out and stayed here. We broke up. I wasn’t going to make her feel tied down because of it.”

Maia listened quietly as Leo talked. So this was who had broken Leo’s heart. And it made sense that he had fallen in love with her and had been devastated when they went their separate ways. Reaching out, Maia pulled Leo into a hug, holding him tightly. She didn’t know how to support him with words, but hopefully he would understand the gesture. “Do you think she’d ever come back?” She asked, the question a bit muffled as she spoke into his chest. “New Rome has a lot of opportunities for doctors.”

Leo held her tight. He hadn’t told anyone about the fact that he was going to move with her and it shook him to admit it out loud. He was the reason they broke up, he was the reason he was miserable. It was his fault. “I went to a mortal high school. She wouldn’t be allowed in.” From the beginning, he should have known it was a damned relationship. He had tried to put it off. Ignore the feelings, but they just grew and grew and grew. “I would have had to move to the mortal world. It wouldn’t have worked out. Love is kind of fucked up.”

Rubbing his back soothingly, Maia’s heart went out to Leo. Falling for a mortal… a tricky business. And she didn’t blame him for not wanting to leave New Rome. The mortal world was messy and hard. Besides, his family had expectations that she knew Leo had to meet. Even if he went about it in odd ways, he was still a Karavadra. “You don’t need to tell me that twice.” Maia laughed, a bit of a hollow sound. “Love has a way of getting us right where we hurt the most.”

Taking comfort in another woman’s touch… Leo wondered how Bobbi would think of it, then realized that she wouldn’t think it was her place to comment. It was a hollow comfort that she wouldn’t make a comment, even though there was no way for her to know about this. Leo wondered when he would stop taking comfort in a girl who lived across the country. “I was going to go to school at Parsons, I was even accepted, while she did her pre-med program. I’d paint and she’d bring home the real money. She was okay with that. She was happy with me and all my weird things.” He shook his head,“Love as a way of tattooing you. Each one leaves a mark.”

Each one leaves a mark. Maybe that was how it worked for other people, but Maia couldn’t entirely relate. Not unless the gaping hole that her father had left in the lives of her and her mother counted. “There’s still a chance? If she’s still out there, doing amazing things and saving lives...Maybe one day you could go looking for her.” She offered. It wouldn’t be easy, but if she wanted to be a fancy brain surgeon, there couldn’t be too many named Bobbi Truman. And Google was a powerful thing. “And if you felt-- feel as strongly as you do… I think she would too.” Maia said with a small shrug.

Leo had experienced quite a bit of love over his years; platonic love, romantic love, familial love, unrequited love. He had loved friends, he loved Bobbi, he loved his siblings and his cousins, and he had loved his father even when it wasn’t returned. “See, I still talk to her, weekly at least. We were friends before we were anything else, I couldn’t let that relationship go. She’s seeing this guy named Andrew.” He had never met Andrew and didn’t plan on it, but he was sure that he was a good guy if Bobbi had picked him. “She does, but I’m not willing to move. And I won’t ask her to for me.”

Another man… That definitely made the situation harder. Maia couldn’t fathom how much that must hurt, to know that woman you love is with someone else and still being in a position where he supports her? “At least you still have her around to talk to. Even if it can’t be anything more than that at this point in time. And, just because you’re not willing to move now doesn’t mean you won’t ever be.” Maia gestured around them. “All things come to an end. I don’t even know if I’m going to stay in New Rome beyond the Legion now and that’s something I never thought would happen. Things change, Leo. Maybe it’ll change for the better for you two.”

New Rome was his home, almost all of his memories were within New Rome’s boundaries. Leo couldn’t expect that he would be welcomed back with open arms if he left, especially for a mortal. Perhaps his siblings would understand, but everyone else he grew up with? It wouldn’t make sense to them. “Maybe. Moving across the country would be a lot. Especially considering all of my family is here and they probably won’t travel to the East Coast.” It was an old Roman thought that the East Coast would simply bring bad luck to anyone who traveled there. “She’s very happy with Andrew. He’s a pretty high powered lawyer, which is good for her. They’re both ambitious… Which can’t be said about me. I don’t know, as long as she’s happy, I’ll be happy for her.” Not happy himself, but happy for her.

His family. The Karavadras, with all their expectations and graces. Resting her forehead against his chest as she snuggled into his embrace, Maia spoke up, “Sometimes we need to take a chance. I did it when I came here. You never know how things will turn out, but if it’s a shot at something that would make you happy, at someone who’d make you happy…” Maia shrugged. “I’d say go for it.” The other man really did put a damper on things. Maia couldn’t help but be annoyed at this random Andrew guy for coming between Leo and Bobbi-- she didn’t really know the situation, but she knew Leo. And she wanted him to be happy. He was one of those people who deserved to be loved and in love. “Your ambitious, with your art. You do a lot of really unique stuff, you take risks with your artwork.” She said, choosing not to comment on the happiness part. That was a different battle to fight that she didn’t particularly want to get into.

Leo was a man who loved physical contact; cuddling, sex, you name it Leo enjoyed it. There was something so inherently comforting about physical contact to him. Holding Maia like this was nice and calming for him. “I can’t leave my siblings with my father.” He finally admitted, after long seconds of silence. “Without the family disappointment, his negative attentions will shift to them and they can’t risk it.” Both Jefferson and Andrew held Leo back from going to Bobbi. He couldn’t ask her to pick between him and Andrew. He couldn’t force Cat to become the sudden family disappointment because of his departure. “I suppose. Not many people feel that way about it. I think most see art as a rather lazy career.”

The concept of having a family like Leo’s was incredibly foreign to Maia, though she knew of Jefferson Karavadra by proxy. And, though she was never particularly close with Jax or Cat, she could understand why Leo would be concerned for their well-being. Callum was her brother and if he was ever placed in a position where their father… well, she’d do whatever she could to keep him safe from Cupid. “I see. And I can kinda understand where you’re coming from. But, you shouldn’t be the beast of burden all the time.” She said, with a sigh. “That’s because people think that being an artist is easy. I’ve seen enough of your paintings to know that’s not true.” She smiled.

Leo wasn’t willing to let his siblings be the focus of Jefferson’s attention. Even when he wanted to be his father’s favorite, he hadn’t been willing to let them take the blame for anything. Even when they got in trouble, Leo went out of his way to do something worse to make his father mad. It worked most of the time, at least until he was written off as the heir or anyone of real significance. “I’m the older brother, of course I have to.” He said with a laugh, though it wasn’t as genuine as usual. Cat and Jax have their own burdens. This is mine.” He smiles at that,”you’ve also been in enough of them.” Leo attempted to make his style unique, often combining colors in skin tones to portray emotions but still attempted to make the colors natural. Often he ended up with pastel colors. “And thank you. I try to make my stuff good enough for praise like that.”

Maia frowned at that, but, again, she had little frame of reference for understanding the inner workings of the Karavadra family. She supposed that, on some level, Callum might feel that way towards her. But, they were so close in age that it never really seemed like that. “Well, I’m sure that they understand what you’re doing and appreciate it.” She said as she reached up to smooth out stray lock of hair, mused from their earlier activities. “I guess I’m a bit biased.” Maia laughed and shrugged. “You’re very talented, Leo, honest. And you more than deserve praise for your work.”

There was a piece of Leo that wasn’t convinced that his siblings knew that he did anything like he did for them. He was sure they understood somethings, but his craft was one he had mastered over quite a bit of time, the finer details overlooked by most eyes. “They know we all have our place and job in the family. I think Jax is happy that I’m not heir, he’s probably going to be running the bank eventually.” Jax would be good at it, though he wondered if he’d be good at it without turning into their father. “Well, the reason I even have art shows anymore is so I can hear all the ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’.”

“I see.” Maia said as she trailed her fingers up his chest. All this talk of family and bad blood and… ghosts of the past weren’t exactly what she wanted. Which was exactly why she wanted to change the subject back to something a bit more in the present. “Ohs and ahs, hm? I think we could do a bit more of that right here, hm?” She teased, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss at his neck. Maybe this would take his mind off the past and put him back in the here and now.

#leo karavadra #p: and the flashback starts #f&gwriting #//btw this occured several months ago

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extemporaneousmusings · 7 years

Text

There’s this page from a manuscript that’s in LACMA’s collections I’ve been thinking about for a good year. I discovered it when watching a GettyTalks livestream last summer by the GoT costume designer. I kind of forget the context in which she discussed it, but it totally captivated me and isn’t really relevant to the rest of her talk, as she moved on to discuss the more psychological and emotional underpinnings of costuming, rather than original source materials. I was so intrigued that I messaged the Getty tumblr that day to ask for the citation when I couldn’t find the image myself, and it’s just been floating around on my computer for the past year.

15th century Islamic manuscripts are worlds away from my wheelhouse, obviously, but there was something here that clung to the edges of an already fringe concept I had been toying with, that over the past year has become more and more relevant and pervasive.

The idea is hinged upon two major foci. The first is the development of the attribute through time, which is much more central to what I do...The basic synopsis of what I’d like to ultimately accomplish with my PhD is to try and connect grounded, known archaeological assemblages to contextualize and examine them within a more robust and experimental theoretical framework. The discussion of images is often divorced from their context, especially when it comes to more ephemeral objects like vases. (Note, this is the first time I’ve ever really used the word ephemeral in connection with vases, I need to think about this more!) The second is of the extended lifespan of Alexander the Great, both in images and texts, which persisted for thousands of years after his death, and was incorporated into many different cultural narratives.

An attribute, within iconography (which is at its very simplest, the study/interpretation of images and symbols) is an object or a shorthand that gives further information linked to the central character. Dionysos is one of the most attribute-laden lads in Greek art. To name a few, he has a kantharos, which is a specific type of drinking cup, leaves, wine, satyrs, maenads, which all in and of themselves, have nested attributes.

Attic black-figure vase depicting Dionysos and a few of his typical attributes. (Musée de Louvre, MNE 938)

Athena has her owl, and gorgon head on her shield. Zeus has thunderbolts. All of these are small visually represented objects, yet convey a great amount of culturally loaded information. I’m just speaking from the Greek tradition at the moment, but iconography and attributes exist across time and space. Thor has his hammer, which is an extremely potent symbol that conveys a lot more than just his favorite accessory. The Statue of Liberty has a torch and books. You get the point.

Attributes have not remained the same, in terms of what they represent or how they are interpreted, throughout history. Narrowing back down to the Greek world, the Hellenistic period brought about enormous cultural shifts in nearly every arena, and art was one of them. It hasn’t really been explored through such a lens yet, to my knowledge, but the very power and intent behind attributes shifted dramatically. I am super intrigued in trying to find a way to trace the development of the attribute, and see how and when its use began to change.

Here we get to the point of contact between the two ideas. The Hellenistic period is a broad, uneven, inelegant term to discuss a period of time directly impacted by the death of Alexander the Great and the aftermath of his political and military campaigns, but before the Roman Empire became the main cultural and political power. This is, of course, impossible to define, but in reductive academic short-hand refers to the years 323 BC- 31 AD. The Hellenistic period also considers a much broader geographic scope than is usually incorporated into classical scholarship in earlier periods, because Alexander conquered so much land, and Greek ideas were then transmitted in very different ways to a broader swath of people and cultures.

I’ve now reached the point where this gets beyond me, for the moment. I’m not an Hellenistic historian, and the political and military narrative of history during these years is a fucking quagmire. The art produced during this time-period in many ways reflects this time of upheaval and constant change, because it’s experimental, bizarre, and all over the place.

Alexander was a brilliant commander and political thinker. He curated his image and controlled its dissemination. The dude had a whole host of personally commissioned artists at his command who produced sculptures/coins/jewels depicting him that were somehow regulated and presented a unified front, despite the geographical breadth across which they worked and he travelled. (This is precisely why you can always identify sculptures of him, even hundreds of years after his death, because they were all produced using cookie-cutter templates.) He used attributes and his own image to influence politics in a way that hadn’t been done before, and this continues long after his death.* This is picked up and totally incorporated into Roman imperial politics and art further down the road.

At the moment, this is my (utterly unsubstantiated) half-baked axis: I think that the attribute had been developing and shifting in use somewhat, but that Alexander radicalized what it was, and how it was used. THEREFORE, not only can one continue to trace how the attribute continues through and beyond Alexander in Greek&Roman art, but Alexander himself through time and cultures makes a fascinating case study of the attribute. (Maybe??? Or maybe this is just two separate things just barely linked??? I’m gonna try to explain the second branch more.)

Alexander was, obviously, a big fucking deal. He went a bunch of places and did a bunch of shit. As such, he was remembered and mythologized broadly, for many different reasons, in many different ways. His actions were incorporated into the narrative fabric of many cultures and societies. Before I watched this Getty talk I had NO IDEA that Alexander appears in the Quran. Fascinating!!

He appears in the Quran as Dhul-Qarnayn which means “The Two-Horned One” in English. Scholars don’t know exactly why, but have tentatively suggested that perhaps it is because Alexander was sometimes depicted on coins as having curling rams horns. This is super dope, and I totally wanna buy it and argue for it BECAUSE, his use of the rams horns on coinage was a direct attempt to assimilate himself within a blended Eastern/Egyptian mythology. The rams horns were an attribute of Ammon, an Egyptian deity who is often considered alongside/culturally synonymous to Zeus. So, it is possible that his name in the Quran and further Islamic tradition is a direct reference to the way he, and then his followers, manipulated attributes to accomplish political goals.

Tetradrachm of Lysimachus depicting Alexander with the horns of Ammon. British Museum 1919,0820.1

Along with being incorporated into the textual history of these diffuse cultures, he is also depicted visually in a whole host of new and evolving forms. I haven’t looked into the artistic depictions of Alexander once he becomes Dhul-Qarnayn, or Iskander (his Persian name), but I think that’s probably what I should do next. By the time it gets to the way-aforementioned manuscript page he is completely transformed iconographically speaking. In this illumination Alexander/Iskander is depicted (the solo figure on the right) as an official from the Chinese court, visiting the Kaaba. He is, therefore, culturally reborn, depicted as someone from China, interacting with one of the most sacred monuments of Islam. This is so far removed from his original context, and yet one can trace the path of his transmission through time and media to this point.

Iskander at the Kaaba. LACMA M.73.5.462

As I’ve said. I’m not sure how these two concepts (the attribute and ~Alexander through time~) necessarily link up, or if they even productively can. It’s possible they should both be pursued as separate, though theoretically related trains of thought. I was hoping, through the course of writing this, try and figure out some more/gain further clarity, but unfortunately I don’t think any of the resources I’ll need to really dig down on this are readily available online, as I have discovered a rather scanty digital trail, even about Alexander in his extended legendary life.

*27/4/19 this is pretty bold and I'm not sure I'm currently equipped to defend the statement against a critical attack but it still feels right.

If you read all of this, hey thanks! This was an attempt to try and mitigate the fact that I’ve just been crawling up the walls of my own mind and it’s been getting pretty bad the past couple of days. Injuries are really difficult for everyone, but coming directly from a summer of mobility and hiking and freedom in the place I love most, despite the fact that I wasn’t even in the field very much, and being utterly and completely grounded has been a devastating and crippling (pun intended) adjustment. Sitting in one place has never been something I’ve been good at, and I am really only just coming back into my own mind as I ease off the pain meds. SO, this was an attempt, inspired muchly by @post--grad’s fucking brilliant and captivating newsletter to just try and muse and think without any pressure or connected to anything that has any current relevance to my scholarly production.

Let me know what you think, really! Even if you’re someone for whom this is all totally new, bc let’s be real, most people don’t spend their lives thinking about objects and images and The Past. I wanna know what you think! Does it make sense? Is it weird? What was the most interesting thing about this, if at all?

#mine #writing #iconography #some musingsofmaura #if you will

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itsgiannamarie · 5 years

Text

Art Institute of Chicago

I attended the Art Institute last Thursday, the 14th. I entered the museum and went directly into the Photography room. I chose to go here first, not because it was right in front of me, but because I have been so interested and in love with photography since high school. At first, it was overwhelming because it was much busier than I thought it would be for a week day, but after about five minutes or so I became adjusted to the crowd and found it relaxing to wander through the hectic atmosphere.

The first piece I was attracted to was Andy Warhol’s Mao (1972). I was attracted to these photos because of the vibrant colors used. Warhol used the same portrait of Mao Zedong and used different variations of color for the skin, shirt, and background. My first thought was wondering why he used the colors he did, but I found that the use of bright colors were most likely being used to catch the eye of its audience; it definitely worked.

The second piece that caught my attention was located in the second room we entered; Paperweights. I love nature, so not only did the nature aspect of it interest me, but the detailing did as well. If you look closely, you can see the bees in there, as well as the beehive and the flowers. This piece portrays the bees to be flying around the flowers and hive, with some even resting on them. Flowers are one of my favorite parts of nature, so I really enjoyed the color and detail of them. I found this piece to be my favorite in the room because, although the others were beautifully mesmerizing with their fine detail, this weight was the only one that related to nature. This piece was titled Honey Bee Swarm with Flowers and Fruit, 2012, by Paul Stankard. I also thought it was unique that they had a whole room dedicated to paperweights of all different sizes and incredible detail in each.

Finally, the third piece I found was in the Prints and Drawings room. I couldn't quite figure out the meaning of this drawing, but I related it back to our previous Discussion Board on the elements and principles of design. This drawing, Tenth Stone (1968), depicts both the elements and principles of design very clearly. There is the use of different shapes that show the contrast of light and dark shading, along with the pattern continuing around the outside. I was attracted to this drawing because it brought up many questions for me, and left me wondering what it symbolized. It allowed me to have an open mind and really think deeper into it to try and come up with my own conclusion of what it could be and what it meant.

The piece I was least attracted to was the Shino-glazed Flower Vase by Kato Yasukage. Although the piece held an interesting shape, I found it to be very bland and boring. However, it did bring me back to our unit “What is Art?”, and allowed me to view it from the perspective of art not being beautiful but still being art. The vase represents a modern piece of pottery and is coated in a glaze finish. If you look closely at the information card, it states, “The bowl appears to be moving or spinning and mixing the colors on the surface.” I found the shape to be interesting, the colors to be pretty, and well blended, but the piece itself didn’t interest me. There was no true history behind it, and I felt it could have been more unique to the culture rather than be considered a piece of modern pottery.

The second piece that I didn't find very interesting was the Statue of a Ram, restored by Italian sculptor/restorer Francesco Franzoni (Roman Art). Much like the vase above, this statue was very plain. However, I really enjoyed the history behind it. My senior year of high school, I learned a lot about the Greek and Roman Gods and how animals were very significant to them as a means of sacrifice. The statue is a marble piece with fantastic detail of its coat, horns, face, and hooves, but as a whole it wasn't very “eye-catching”. I feel that a piece very similar to this could be seen in more places than just a museum, and because of that I don’t find it to be very unique. I think artwork should have a “one of a kind” feel to it and this just didn’t bring that feeling to me. I definitely enjoyed the history and meaning behind it more than I did the piece itself.

There were many pieces of artwork that brought an emotional reaction to me, but I found this one to bring me one in a different way. The Rock by Peter Blume shows about fourteen people working on a cite that seemed to have been through a major downfall. It shows the destruction of buildings and what looks to have been a boulder at one point. This reminded me of all the devastation the world has seen, from all the wars of past and present, the outcome of 9/11, and even all of the natural disasters. In this oil painting, you can see the people doing extreme manual labor and working hard to rebuild what has been destroyed. This brought a sense of sadness to me as I related this to all of the first responders that dedicate their lives to helping rebuild communities that have been effected by unfortunate events and those who risk their lives to serve our country. I found this piece to be absolutely beautiful and full of detail. I loved the realism of it and how it depicted devastation so greatly to show the true struggle people actually go through afterwards.

Responsive Time Exercise:

The piece I have chosen for my responsive time exercise was Marc Chagall’s The American Windows. This was hands down, one of the most beautiful pieces I saw throughout my time at the museum. I chose this piece because there was so much to look at and process, and felt it was the most appropriate choice for this part of the assignment. As I sat and observed the piece, I first noticed the variety and shades of color used. I loved the different shades of blue being incorporated with brighter colors such as yellow, red, and orange. The longer I sat, the more I noticed the smaller details. What caught my eye first was the person playing an instrument in the top left corner. The yellow color and black outline made it stand out the most. After I analyzed the first panel, I moved on to the next and noticed that there was mostly blue present. However, I loved the wheel of orange, yellow, and green squares bringing “life” to a darker place. The last panel below has lots of different detail. As you can see, there is a person holding a type of mask, the five lit candles, and even some sort of fairy-like image. This piece brought a sense of comfort the most I sat and analyzed it because it was located on a wall with very dim lighting but contained bright colors. I really enjoyed observing this piece because it seems as thought the more you sit and look at it, the more there is to see.

Overall, the Art Institute was a fantastic experience. I feel that it brought me more knowledge on different types of artwork and I learned about the history of many pieces. It made me dig deeper into my thoughts and really get the experience of observing and analyzing artwork firsthand. I loved everything about it and would definitely go back on my own time just to learn more about different cultures and their artwork.

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365albums · 4 years

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artist: The Smiths

album: The Queen is Dead

year: 1986

personnel:

Morrissey – lead vocals, backing vocals

Johnny Marr – guitars, orchestration, synthesised strings, harmonium, marimba

Andy Rourke – bass guitar

Mike Joyce – drums

thoughts:

-maybe this is because it’s pretty short, clocking in at only 37 minutes, but the album feels really tight and well done. I can only think of one song that I could maybe do without, which is Vicar in a Tutu, but that’s not really a hard pass, I definitely don’t dislike it/think it doesn’t belong

-I really love Marr’s guitar + the general instrumentation, I’m going to mainly talk about lyrics than the instruments but the sound reminds me of what I like about Kino I think. my favorite examples on the album are probably the title track, I Know It’s Over, and ESPECIALLY on Bigmouth Strikes Again, but to be honest it’s uniformly good, even on simpler tracks like Frankly Mr. Shankly (NOTE: just saw a quote w Johnny Marr comparing the guitar on Bigmouth Strikes Again to Jumpin Jack Flash, and that’s such a good connection)

-The lyrics to the title track are so funny and well done, definitely one of the strongest points of the album for me. the queen/prince charles bits are so well done, it doesn’t come off as unnecessarily snarky, which I think it could be in danger of doing (to be honest, a lot stronger than some of the stuff coming from some british punk bands)

-I Know It’s Over..... man. morrissey’s lyrics are beautiful and devastating, of course, but his singing really shines through in this one I think. adds an extra layer of wistfulness and introspection and buildup.

-Never Had No One Ever has this great almost apocalyptic sounding instrumentation. I wouldn’t put it in my favorites but I think it’s one of the rare moments on the album where the lyrics seem to exist to strengthen the vibe of the instruments, if that makes sense. The words seem to weave into the spaces left by the instruments is what I mean I guess. I would compare that to She’s So Heavy on Abbey Road, if I had to

-Cemetry Gates is so so good, it makes me want to punch Morrissey but it makes me so happy so I can’t in good faith criticize the lyrics. It’s also an interesting tone shift from the bleak and devastating Never Had No One Ever- you moved on from a song about loneliness and desolation into a song where the singer is no longer alone- instead, they’re mocking someone else, gaining some confidence but unable to genuinely connect with the other person or with the graves around them.

-And then you shift into Bigmouth Strikes Again, from a song about being a bit of a dick to a song about how everyone hates you for being a dick. it’s a really good through-line for the themes of the album. you’re alone, no one wants you, you’re devastated, but then you’re unable to make these actual loving connections with people because you’re a jerk, or maybe you’re a jerk because you’re so isolated every day. and Morrissey keeps bringing these glib historical references which ignore the deep emotional stake of the people he’s referencing, finally saying he has no right to take his place with the human race. I don’t know how to properly phrase it but there’s something really clever and infuriating about the whole thing

-The Boy With the Thorn In His Side is good, but it’s sort of like Frankly Mr Shankly where it sounds good but it’s much worse than the songs it’s near on the track list

-There Is A Light That Never Goes Out....man. what can I say. Yeah. oh I will say that I love the flutes!!

-Having the ending song be Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others feels like a twist on the “end it on a rocker” rule, which seems to be “end it on a funny song about boob sizes”. which is fine, it’s a fun song! cute ending. feels a bit like Bob Dylan’s Talkin World War III Blues (funny song that ends on surprisingly tender lyrics)

Favorite Lyrics:

-”I say Charles don't you ever crave/To appear on the front of the Daily Mail/Dressed in your mother's bridal veil?”

-”Life is very long, when you're lonely”

-”Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head/And as I climb into an empty bed/Oh well, enough said”

-”It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate/It takes strength to be gentle and kind/Over, over, over, over”

-”Now I know how Joan of Arc felt/As the flames rose to her roman nose/And her hearing aid started to melt”

-”Take me out tonight/Take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care/I don't care/And in the darkened underpass/I thought "Oh God, my chance has come at last"/But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask”

-”And if a double-decker bus crashes into us/To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die”

-”Oh, there is a light and it never goes out”

-”Send me the pillow/The one that you dream on/And I'll send you mine”

#first listen was on the night of august 28/early august 29 #listened to it like. five times since then. i'm posting this on the night of august 29/early august 30 #this post is super long but! these are my thoughts

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roamingholiday · 7 years

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Sunday, September 3rd 2017-Thursday, September 14th 2017

Classes! I go to classes now! All the time! It’s very tiring! Here is what they are:

Italian Film: Mondays for three hours and Tuesdays for an hour and a half. We’re watching movies in Italian (obviously) with English subtitles because we are pathetic Americans who cannot speak perfect Italian yet. The course is an English course, so we write a journal entry for each film, and also something of a sociology course, so we talk about what the film suggests about Italian culture in each of our journal entries. It’s also something of a history course as well, because the subject matter of the films tends towards Italian history. I really appreciate that particular aspect, because while I know quite a lot about ancient Italian history, my knowledge of modern Italian history is essentially it existed? It’s a boot and it’s in Europe and it exists? Though apparently it doesn’t actually exist, or didn’t always exist, and in fact has only existed in its current form for less than 150 years? The United States is technically older? Even if Italy has Rome and all of that ~Roman~ stuff? History is wild.

Anyway, we’ve watched neorealism films about WWII, Anni Difficili and Roma Città Aperta, and a non-neorealism film (because is wasn’t filmed in the direct aftermath? Apparently that’s the distinction) about WWII, La Vita è Bella, which has been more successful at making me utterly horrified, sickened, and completely broken as a human being than any of the films I’ve possibly ever. (Except for Pixar films which don’t count because they cannot be measured on traditional scales of emotional devastation.)

So far, the films have been really interesting, and no one has had a dramatic and pointless affair with a douchebag yet, so that’s very promising as far as I’m concerned.

Italian 1: Mondays for two hours, Wednesdays for two hours. I have. Less to say about this class. It’s a language class. It exists. I’m learning the Italian language. There’s not much more to it? My professor is very intent on us learning by doing, so there is not a lot of note taking and not a lot of explanations for why we’re saying what we’re saying, which is not really my preferred method of learning, but it’s okay.

I understand more than I can say, so far, and I understand possibly more than there is to understand, because Italian is a horribly simplified version of Latin. Like. There are only two genders? Three ending groups, in two genders? Like? Where are the five declensions and three genders that don’t mean anything because after the first two declensions they can be any gender but also mean everything? And as far as I can see things are modified for plural and singular and then just? Not? For anything else? Where are the cases? Are you telling me that every other language that I could have taken in high school did not have five declensions with different endings for both the singular and the plural of six possible cases, with three different genders that are almost entirely unrecognizable from the root word unless you memorize them by rote? What is this fudgery? And that’s not even getting into the verbs. Do you have any idea how complicated Latin verb conjugation is? Please, please, google image search Latin Verb Conjugation, and recognize that that first chart, yes, that one, the one with 138 different endings for a single verb is only the chart for the 3rd conjugation i-stem verbs and that there are four conjugations with a variant in the third, which makes five conjugations with 138 different endings for each one which makes 690 different verb endings only some of them aren’t different some of them are exactly the same as others but mean totally different things because ANCIENT ROMANS HATED ME, ME SPECIFICALLY.

Anyway. So. Yeah. Italian is not as complicated as I was lead to believe by Other Language Courses and that offends me personally.

Also I can’t tell whether no one else in my class is trying to get the pronunciation and the accent right, or if I’m just gifted or whatever, or maybe I sound as godawful as they do, but can’t they hear the difference in the vowels? They say things with such a horrible American accent that the word is literally incomprehensible and I genuinely don’t know if they don’t feel like saying it right or if they can’t. The professor doesn’t correct my pronunciation so I assume I’m getting it right, and that what I’m hearing myself say is what I’m actually saying, but in that case why can I hear the super clear and obvious differences, and they can’t? These are the kinds of questions I might ask if I was utterly lacking in social awareness, or actively wanted to be hated by my entire Italian 1 class. I am not, and do not, so instead I’m bumbling around in confusion on this blog post.

Italian Renaissance: Mondays for an hour and a half, Wednesdays for an hour and a half. The professor opened class the first day with a forty minute lecture about how this course should actually be called Dante through the Renaissance, because Dante was the most important writer in the history of Italy and also probably the world. I genuinely can’t read the word Dante and not hear it in her voice.

She’s a lovely person, though. Been teaching the class for forty years, likes to sit with us and rhapsodize about the beauty of even the translated version of the Inferno. We’re going word-by-word through each Canto right now, but it is a beautiful text, and I’ve always been a fan of obsessive close reading, because I am very good at obsessive close reading (Latin Poetry Strikes Again), so I’m totally on board.

Also Dante’s being led through hell by Virgil, and hey! I’ve read the Aeneid! I’ve read the Aeneid so many times! Do you know how many times?! I have five different copies at home! Half of them are in the original Latin! I am a nerd with no life! So that’s nice. If I ever get stuck on an essay question I can just draw on my vast knowledge of what Aeneas liked having for breakfast (pietas and divine purpose), and exactly how Virgil invoked the muses (differing, by the way, from the Greek tradition of invoking first and asking questions later, something that Dante eventually followed, if you were wondering).

Ancient City Rome: Monday for an hour and a half, Wednesday for an hour and a half. Awesome class. I mean, for the first thing, I already know at least a bit, because I took a class called The Romans last semester which, you know, covered a bit of Roman History. Just a bit. I’m one of the only classics majors in the course, so the professor picks on me, but at least I sometimes know the answer, so that’s convenient.

The professor is also great. He was the professor of one of my most favorite teachers from high school when she was a student here, which is very cool, and he’s apparently still in contact with her because he knew me from her, which was also cool. (Thanks for that, by the way. I doubt it means he’ll go easier on me, but it does mean that he always remembers my name, which is nice.) He wanders around the class (and occasionally outside of it, like, just walks out of the room and continues to talk to us under the assumption that we’re paying close enough attention to hear him) and lectures, and has clearly taught this course enough to know it frontwards backwards and sideways, which in some professors means a very dry, very boring recitation that they don’t care very much about at all, but in this car means that his lectures both cover all of the information necessary, but also involves the interjection of excellent sarcastic quips like, “My life sucks,” and “Romans were assholes.” I agree, with both of those statements.

Sustainable Environments: Thursday for three hours. I have picked sustainability focused courses to fulfill science and technology requirements for my entire time in college, because apparently I actually know a fair amount about sustainability already. Probably what comes of going to an environmentally focused school for eight years. Apparently I absorbed more information there than I thought, or, rather, people who did not go to a school that had a class called Discovery for eight years know significantly less about sustainability than I thought. We really should be educating our children more thoroughly about stuff like this, people.

So I take sustainability focused courses, because I’m genuinely interested in the subject, but also after so many years of science AP classes I deserve to be in a science class where I already know everything.

This one is mostly an interesting lesson on the differences between sustainability practices in the United States and in Italy. Rome in particular is made up of so many ancient buildings that it’s practically impossible to make any new construction, so there’s no going for sustainable design. You have to weight that, though, with the amount of waste knocking down buildings to rebuild creates, as well as the fact that the buildings created hundreds of years ago, before the industrial revolution, are far more sustainable than those built during the 1900s. Of course, that is only dependent on the climate staying relatively the same as it was when the building was created, which is not at all the case, so you’re back at square one.

So that’s it. That’s my class schedule. Also, in case you didn’t notice, eight hours of classes on Mondays. Straight. Well, not actually straight, I go at nine and leave at eight, so eleven hours at school with eight hours of classes and one break near five.

Mondays are. Long.

#rome #movie review #book review #Dante's Inferno totally counts as a book #class review #sure let's use that that sounds like a reasonable thing to do #also let's not pay attention to how ridiculously confusing my date keeping has gotten #it'll all become clear at some point #to me as well as you hopefully #also look no food in this one #who said that this was turning into a food review blog?#well here have a class review blog #travels

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