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#also the lady died from covid like last year

raincitygirl76 · 6 months

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The irritating thing about this article is that it totally fails to even mention the elephant in the room for elderly people: dementia. It’s not much good being able to potentially keep people alive until they’re 120 years old if for the final 25 years of their life they aren’t compos mentis.

I had a great-aunt who died 3 days before her 107th birthday. Up until age 89, she was remarkably physically and mentally active for someone of her age. At 89 she broke her hip, but remained mentally acute…until she was 92, at which point she started to get forgetful. The next 15 years were a long decline. I’d say the last 10 years of her life (from 97 to the eve of 107) were completely depressing. By 97 she was in full dementia mode, and it only got worse from there.

She kept on living for another decade after that, but it wasn’t much of a life. Most of the time she spent staring into space in her nursing home. She was too physically frail and also too mentally frail to continue living with family as she had before the dementia had set in.

She had lucid days, in which she didn’t actually remember her family, but did realize she had forgotten everything except her childhood and her young adult years. And she found this humiliating and stressful, to know she should recognize people, but not be able to.

The days when she was lost in her own world were in some ways better, from the point of view of her family members, than the days she was somewhat lucid, and angry about the gigantic holes in her memory.

If you live long enough, you will probably develop dementia. And none of the scientists interviewed for that article are addressing mental deterioration as well as physical deterioration.

The last decade of my great-aunt’s life was neither dignified nor happy. She couldn’t read a newspaper, or do a crossword puzzle (she was a crossword fiend up until her early 90s when her memory started to get patchy). I had a conversation with her when she was 102 in which she seemed to know who I was and had quite a lively conversation with me, until she called me by my grandmother’s first name.

I have a family resemblance to my (long deceased) grandmother. My great-aunt thought it was 1938, I’d just gotten engaged to her brother and was planning my wedding. It was an interesting conversation from a family history standpoint, but she wasn’t actually talking to me, her great-niece with whom she’d once had a fairly close relationship. She was talking to her future sister-in-law in 1938.

I had been warned she might mix living visitors up with other people who are long dead, and warned it was best to play along. So I pretended to be my grandmother, but I wasn’t really her. My great-aunt nodded off eventually, seeming content. It was the best visit I’d had with her since cognitive decline had set in. But in her mind, she was a young woman again in 1938, not a lady of 102 bedridden and living in a nursing home.

She went on for 5 more years like that (except getting a little worse each year), and death came as a merciful release. It left me terrified of developing dementia, and determined that if I do (which I probably will if I live long enough), I will use MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying) as soon after diagnosis as possible.

Because the thought of my body living on long after my brain has exited the building repels me. I don’t want to keep going under those circumstances. Bear in mind that this great-aunt was merely the longest-lived relative of mine who developed dementia. Several others did as well. It’s a very cruel disease.

My oldest uncle was in the memory care unit of a nursing home in April 2020 when he died after Covid ripped through his nursing home. And less than a year later, his widow was also diagnosed with dementia. She’s still alive, but now also in a memory care unit. So my cousins will have lost both their parents in spirit before their parents’ bodies die.

And these billionaires who want to cheat death, do they really think they will be productively running their business empires when they’re 120? Because chances are they won’t. They’ll be in a very expensive nursing home, staring into space, reliving the glory days of their youth, or having relatively lucid days and realizing there are horrendous gaps in their memory and they don’t know who’s sitting at their bedside. And getting terribly agitated and embarrassed because they think they should remember.

Yes, there are people like Captain Tom who live to be 100 or more and don’t develop dementia, but that isn’t exactly the norm for centenarians.

https://www.canada.ca/en/health-canada/services/health-services-benefits/medical-assistance-dying.html

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writeforthehellofit · 2 years

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“A man needs a good pocketknife,” my dad once told me. More than once, actually. He said the phrase many times.

My first knife was one he bought for me in Germany. He had spent a few months there with McDonnell Douglas in 1977. I was six, and my first knife had a big fork on one side and a spoon on the other. I wanted nothing more than to use it at the supper table, and I did to my mother’s horror. It wasn’t long though before I saw the absurdity of needing another utensil to cut a piece of meat. I’ve been like this for a long time.

I ate pork-n-beans with it though. Even opened the can with the built in can opener. It had a bottle opener that I used some, and a big ol’ janky corkscrew that I wouldn’t even need to for years to come. It had a screwdriver and a file too. It was basically a worse Swiss Army knife with the added benefit of limited-use foldaway flatware.

I was a little older when he bought me my first real knife. Twelve maybe. It went everywhere I did. It was an Old Timer. Not super nice, but far from shitty. It had a locking blade and the plastic handle looked like wood and was finely textured with diagonal grooves for a good grip. Dad taught me how to sharpen it, and I kept it sharp.

The last knife he bought me was a Case. That’s the good stuff. I honestly don’t remember much about it. My wife and I were moving out to Oregon and the day we left, the folks were out of town. Dad called to tell me to swing by his house before we left. He had something for me on his dresser. I don’t remember much about the actual knife, but I remember the note. “Every man needs a good pocketknife. Keep it sharp. Also I want to tell you what my Daddy told me and what his daddy told him. ‘Any time you get four people together, one of them is going to be a son-of-a-bitch. Don’t be him.’ Good luck. Hope we get to see you soon. Love, Dad.”

I lost that knife in the crawl space of a house in Eugene. I had this damn job inspecting for termites, but the actual job was sales. Crawl through some old lady’s cobwebs and try to sell her shit she doesn’t need. I lasted three days. I would give anything to have that knife back.

I’ve bought myself several knives over the years. Always Case, like Dad bought for himself. I generally keep up with a knife for four or five years, then it will just disappear one day. God knows where they go. Then I’ll go buy a new one and get a few years older while it develops the shiny patina that one gets when commingling with change and cigarette lighters.

Maybe ten years ago I was in a knife shop and saw a style I hadn’t seen before. It was a Case, but it has this cool lever on the end of the blade and you can just kick the blade out with your thumb. The lever is handy for prying on shit and the whole thing feels good in your hand. It also gives me something to do with my hands. It probably looks like I’m playing pocket pool, but the god damned thing is better than a fidget spinner.

I really loved that knife, so when I lost it—right on schedule—I had to get one just like it right away. Well, we all know that the best way to find a lost item is to replace it. It took a couple of years, but I did eventually find that lost knife. I cleaned and sharpened it, oiled it up, and put it it my top dresser drawer, which for me is devoted to whatever treasure I own. Been that way since I was a boy. Socks and underwear go below all that, though I’m starting to rethink priorities in my 50s.

Dad passed away a few weeks ago. His health has been up and down a lot the last six years or so, but it was COVID that finally got him. It’s not a pretty way to go, as I’m sure many of you can attest to. We traveled back home after he died to get our funeral clothes and things, and I found myself looking through my treasure drawer, sort of getting lost. There was the knife.

“Every man needs a good pocketknife.”

The old phrase that I had come to believe in ran through my mind as I thought of my dad. I thought of him lying in that box in the suit we helped Mom pick out. Lying there with no shoes. Did you know they bury you in socks? No shoes. They’re too hard to get on your swollen feet. That’s just a nugget I have picked up recently. I thought of Dad lying there with no pocketknife and I thought it was a damned shame.

I stood over his casket with my arm around my mother. His pants pockets were hidden below the split in the lid, so I slipped it into his coat pocket. Every man needs a good pocketknife. I guess it doesn’t matter which pocket it goes in. I hope not anyway.

Part of me is like Dad, and thinks it would have been better to pass it on to one of my own boys. Practical. Like it was a waste of a good knife.

Part of me wants to believe in magical things. Part of me wants to believe in some sort of life after death. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? Part of me knows it’s all bullshit, but that other part wants to believe in ghosts. It wants to believe bad things come out of the closet if you play with that Ouija board. It wants to believe that the things I’ve seen were NOT the result of a leaking flue. Like prayer works if you really believe. Like God is real and Spot crossed a rainbow bridge and Dad is in heaven with that knife. Part of me wants to believe that Dad’s empty husk can feel that knife against his chest and it comforts him to know it’s there if he needs it.

Every man needs a good pocketknife, right Dad?

I had a dream last night. We were at Mom’s, moving things out. I moved Dad’s chair aside and saw that knife. I knew he had put it there for me. Then I found another one just like it. Then two more. They were for my sons. I don’t know what it means, but I can’t quit thinking about it. I’ll probably be purchasing three knives just like mine. I’ll stick them in my drawer. I’ll probably write the names of my sons on the boxes. I guess I should print this out to explain things.

#twc

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beefcakenpinkyring · 3 months

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I think I'm supposed to be keeping track of my life on here, but I fail to remember to come back.

It's okay. I've been trying to rest anyway.

Nothing is clear enough for me to write things down and feel better.

Honestly, a lot has been going on. And none of it even gets close to making sense.

I think a lot is changing in my life, although in appearance, nothing has changed.

Last year around the same time, I am sure I was excatly in the same position as now. But between last year and now, I must've died and reborn a million times.

I must've lived a thousand lives since last March. A couple million since March 2022. An entire different universe separates me from March 2021, and a whole human History from COVID March.

It really is hilarious how long ago everything seems.

I've been constantly, continuously changing. I am struggling to keep up, not gonna lie.

Only a few recognizable faces remain, no sense of security left. My house is familiar, comfortable, but nothing is ever safe.

I've been to a psychiatrist. I have been fainting, grappling with very strange contractions before sleep. My left arm feels strange, entrapped in an ever-twitching ribcage. I don't know when nor how I've managed to neglect my body this bad, inflicting hurt that'll take years to heal.

I have been expecting death, on many an occasion, almost immediately passing out after.

My fear has taken a toll on me.

But what remains is an insane lust.

I don't know who to say this to so I might as well broadcast it.

I don't know what my body's trying to accomplish by pushing me towards all sorts of potential partners. I have been a prolific flirt for a few years now, but I've always firmly believed it was mental stimulation, a hobby of sorts. I know it keeps my brain alive and scratches an itch not strong enough to justify any real investment.

Yet lately, I've been collecting names and faces. I've been making moves ; maybe even taking time out of my day to guarantee a conversation.

What faintly worries me is that the people involved are never important.

I am alone, in ways I never expected to experience.

Everyone has got people to go back to, and I got flirtatious acquaintances, designed to be left.

I got interested for a week maybe, craving male comfort after a scary episode, like the touch-deprived child I used to be. I texted him, trying to see if anything could lie behind the playful respect we so formally express to each other. The conversation was short, and I got my answer.

I also understood that I've grown old, and that yearning does not interest me anymore, not in the slightest.

A couple weeks later, piercing memories of eyes that peeled through my layers kept me awake already. Nothing is as disarming as the gaze of a lady who'd open her doors for you.

#panic at the club

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nityarawal · 9 months

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Scotty-

Sorry call dropped. Phone died. You still haven't sent solar charger or gotten my kids & assets.

No rape or murder warrants as of yesterday. A clerk finally picked up at Sandiego PD but everyone keeps telling me to call my PD. They don't work or return calls and clerks are rude & bitchy- hang up. They know they're in deep shit on murder bribes in probate fraud.

1203 Judge Davis's clerk called yesterday to say not to call again. I understand Judge Kelly Mok and Judge Davis were sanctioned 80% of paychecks. This is wonderful news! Thanking my legal team for support now!(:

We'd actually like to have all rotating judges and courtrooms recalled involved in foul play on my case in 6 years. Scotty feels bad they're losing jobs but I tend to feel worse for Mommies they murdered. Scotty says he doesn't hate his mom after 64 years of government handling. But he hasn't returned to her home to visit his sister yet because the stigma of his father smearing Mrs. Valentine with law enforcement rapes in front of him- has imprinted on his memory. He deals with toxicity- mommy hatred and sodomizing of courts- for they raped him stupid on drugs. We survived it and want to help my kids heal now.

Dr. Bug is still intending to assist with uncoupling via Gwyneth Paltrow "uncoupling" team so no one else is murdered as a probate on my team.

This is a serious issue and likely public defense will close down next week.

Get your friends out of prison.

I called congress & assembly woman at governors office & alerted government Mrs. Jackson- Jones life is under Duress with Covid.

Please transfer her to a civilian hospital. I was promised confirmation of this yesterday. She's a 72 year old Chicagoan black mother of 5 that was kidnapped on holiday by RSO politically racist Sheriff at Desert Train Station.

She's a civil Activist I deeply admire for her health crusader research and teachings on gut health.

Mrs Jackson relies on Urine Therapy but dentist ripped out all her teeth last month and she can barely talk!

Luckily she'd memorized congressman Daughtery's number.

Lady clerk was bitch and didn't understand Mrs. J's health issues- was extremely racist- and even assembly woman's clerk at office said they're not doctors.

No they are not

This is point Chowchilla is mass murdering on petty crime and these mothers and Grandmother's are not allowed any medical services.

They've been in covid quarantine isolation for 4 years barred from their benefits and Healthcare.

This is Riverside County Healthcare IEHP - inland Empire Healthplan- we witnessed them kill for gay mommy haters at Dr's, obyn, therapists & all forensics- except Dr. Adam Cash.

Please close every foul Dr's office that lied to me and sold me on black market.

Your jobs aren't more important than mine. Mothers have most important role in universe.

It's unfortunate so many Dyke Judges & PD's are Sterile.

They also Sterilized Britney with a handler. We want to press charges against Sammy's cop uncle for molesting and grooming Sammy into her probate con.

We'd also like to prosecute Broker Joe Jelly and his pimps for selling Darin David Joye on black market as a child to gay attys.

None of defense sodomising was good for our families, bands (Birds of Olympus died! Best Irish band since Beatles! Because of his handler job on atty cons at PD!)

We've had enough of toxic handlers spin doctoring us!

Dr. Bug just called back and was doubting our rape testimonies.

He was needling, asking if I was molested. He knows I was- by David Farley Kaplan but his intention is to attack Catholics. A neo-nazi handler?

I told him whole US Army raped me. Then he laughed and said, " That's Alot of Dick!"

Actually it was alot of Dykes.

No transvestites don't have dicks.

The US army & Airforce are recruiting for trans nation.

Wake up.

The attys immigrate them- steal from Ukraine & MX- and yes America too.

This is a genocide on woman, mothers and babies.

It needs to stop now.

Dissolve my estate with Dr. Sunil Rawal.

We do not welcome him nor sponsor him in USA and we don't feel our courts should have either.

They've been grossly ignorant of real estate law in name of greed.

They think they work for the buck.

They don't.

They work for me & you- our tax dollars. Every government clerk in California lacks manners and basic civilian business skills favoring organised crime.

Every single one of them needs to be fired. Social services murdered millions in name of #ObamaCare & we don't appreciate @nityacapital plagerising my name in America- as first published and copy righted "Nitya" in USA- they are mass murdering universities in name of mental health crime.

Neo nazis are paying for these Indian elections.

We long for spiritual mothering of India- not commercial rape and extortion globally.

What a disappointing election with a manic Indian like our x on stand.

Please don't vote Indian or for lawyers ever again!

Scotty is calling me off hook.

Look Mrs J will die today if I can't get my work done.

Go call court and do your job if you want any left over attention after 5pm at the end of business day.

I'm at library and don't feel like giving cops any more exciting data to drool over on video.

They're so stupid- we really can't risk talking to them. It's just one mistake after another. We reccomend to release all moms, fire the judges.

PDs don't need to be nervous of how their victims will be released.

We will take care of it.

Send the attys to Princess dorm.

Write me and I'll make sure staff improves their care plan.

Love,

Nitya Huntley Rawal

Encinitasbeachhome.com

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angelart67 · 2 years

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This is a subject, that just has my brain on fire. First of all, if it hadn't been for them creating the stupid virus, in the first place, I believe I may not have lost my husband last year. Yes I do still consider him to be murdered, if you follow it through, he could have easily gotten through his illness, the same as he had many many times in the past, except for this last time, COVID-19 stole any chances, of his immune system, to be able to handle the other things he was going through medically.

I promised Danny, before I lost him, I will never again ever take any vaccine offered to me by the United States of America. I don't care if it's a flu shot I don't care if it's a pneumonia shot I don't care if it's a covid shot, they can shoot it all into their own ass. I have a medical degree, I got top grades in college. I know what I am talking about when I say it is impossible to safely pass any vaccine without seven to 14 years of research to see what it does over a complete time in a person's life, because things don't always happen immediately after a vaccine and they know that. So right now it hasn't even been the minimum time of 7 years since they came out with the stupid vaccine. People all over the world have died and have horrible side effects from this vaccine even several different companies versions of the vaccine, and still for some reason we have people just flocking to the drug stores to get shot. I have but one explanation...

COMPLETE STUPIDITY !!!

I hate to think about anybody else out there going through what I have gone through, but I'm telling you now if you lost your spouse that you'd been with for a couple of decades, due directly to the stupid virus they deliberately created, I believe YOU TOO would feel very different as well... I no longer trust the medical field AT ALL & being in poor health myself, I can assure you that is a VERY SCARY thought.

Doctors & Hospitals are ALSO taking it upon themselves to take ANY OPPORTUNITY AVAILABLE to get this vaccine into people, like when you may be in the hospital for some completely other treatment or surgery, when a person is unable to say yes or no to it, like it's ROUTINE, & YES, I DO KNOW someone this happened to, they were even told about it after they'd received the vaccine, while under anesthetic.

Ohhhh it was a mistake??? We thought you signed permission for it? Or did someone COERCE a signature, on some form, while the patient I know, was half in and half out of it? And this person was on their own, with only an approved ride to take them home after their procedure, so therefore nobody to speak for them on their behalf. And now this beautiful lady has to live with these horrible side effects that she is having, from having been given this vaccine that she did not approve. Yes this is very troublesome to me, I can only suggest to others who feel the same way I do, to double your efforts to protect yourself if you are in this type of situation. Go sign a paper now in front of a notary and keep it with your important papers. Stating that you wish to never receive this vaccine under any circumstances. Then you will have something in your possession to show that you never intended to take it in case this happens to you. I wish everybody who has read this the best of protection from Father God, God is the only person I trust anymore, with what's best for my human body. And yes I find that really sad since I chose a medical profession years ago... 🙏💜😇

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phillipcole · 2 years

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Post-AGT Appearance 1211: Late Night with Seth Meyers August 4

The Cheerleader Killings would be at $155 million but ahead of Lightyear last weekend. The older songs would still be sinking slowly but Cesspool of Love rising slowly. Bleep Bleep would have hit 98 on the pop chart last weekend.

Vin Scully would have been in the top 100 suspects for the last name on Phillip’s sick list for about 6 months in 2019, peaking at 92. Bill Russell would have peaked at 83 that year and died at 97th. No one would ask.

Early this weeks rumors would emerge that President Biden-despite having covid the same days as in reality-was going to announce his pick for the Supreme Court by the end of next week. Since I would have 2 routines planned for this opening my agent would have to move fast and get both on tv this week. It would take a considerable bribe to get me the last segment of Late Night with Seth Meyers tonight.

Meyers: Welcome back, thank you. Well our next guest is everywhere. He has some songs he wrote on the charts right now: Chris Janson’s The Weathervane points to Love is the biggest hit at the moment, but also Dolly Parton’s first rock song: Bleep Bleep. He wrote that too. A week from tomorrow is his own country album. It’s called Old fashioned country Love. He also produced a thrilling movie now playing called The Cheerleader Killings. Here he is: Phillip and Cole’s Variety Team.

PBC: Thank you, thank you ladies and gentlemen. I’m Phil, representing Phillip and Cole’s Variety Team. I want to invite you all to our fall tour starting right after Labor Day in the great American southwest. It’s the farewell tour for the ranting 108-Year-Old Man. Yes, he turned 108 last Thursday. He’s saving his strength for the tour. Our team is short handed right now. Phillip is in the hospital in guarded condition. They’re guarding him from bad news. Also our colleague Ford is on a leave of absence. He’s a judge on the Tennessee criminal Court and he’s lobbying the President for that Supreme Court job. I know he’s not the odds-on favorite. He’s a white man in his 60s, so I’m here to make my plea to the President. Please Mr. President, consider putting Ford on the Supreme Court. Here’s why he is an excellent choice. First of all, he has 10 years as a judge. Second of all, no case he handled was ever even appealed. You may say that’s because Ford doesn’t exist. That’s right and that’s exactly why you should appoint him, Mr. President. First of all, a judge who doesn’t exist is better than a judge that does exist. Ford promises to vote the same way as Sonia Sotomayor on every case, so he’ll never disappoint you unless she does. Secondly, a judge that doesn’t exist won’t be writing any opinions. So Sotomayor and Kagan won’t have to give up one third of their dissents in losing 6-3 cases. Third of all, a judge that doesn’t exist doesn’t need clerks, so you’ll save some money and can call yourself a budget conscious President. I assure you, this might be the only way anyone will ever call you that. Most importantly, since Ford does not exist he is willing to retire from the court any time you want: next summer, right after the midterms, or during the administration of any future President you select. Did anyone ever promise to do that, Mr. President? I don’t think so. Not only that, he’s from the south like you are. I know Delaware was too chicken to fight with their brothers in the War of Northern Aggression, but you really are from the great southern tradition and you owe us a court seat, Mr. President. So please, Mr. President, consider the appeal of Phillip and Cole’s Variety Team. Put Ford on the Supreme Court.

Meyers: Thank you ha ha ha ha ha. We’ll see you all tomorrow night. Thanks for tuning in, everyone; good night.

#Seth meyers #supreme court #president biden

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chelsie-fan-55 · 3 years

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‘Oldies are doing well’ Phyllis Logan hails older generations as Downton helps BritsDOWNTON Abbey star Phyllis Logan says it was “fabulous” to be reunited with the cast and production crew to shoot a second film due out early next year. The sequel follows on from the events of the first film released two years ago, which was set in 1927 with Robert and Cora Crawley, the Earl and Countess of Grantham, receiving a visit from King George V and Queen Mary during a royal tour of Yorkshire. Filming of the second film, which sees Dominic West, Hugh Dancy and Laura Haddock join original stars including Dame Maggie Smith, Hugh Bonneville, Michelle Dockery and Elizabeth McGovern, started at Highclere Castle in Hampshire in April and finished in June. Phyllis, 65, who has portrayed Downton housekeeper Mrs Hughes in all six series of the original ITV drama and reprised the role for both films, said: “It was fabulous to be reunited with the cast again, we had such a lovely time, but it was over far too quickly. “During the six seasons that we did (for TV) we usually started filming in the February and finished in the autumn, so we had a good six months of each other, and now it is curtailed into a matter of weeks, so it was done a bit too quickly but we had a great time. “There is lots of nice, really fun stuff in it, I must say and some lovely star turns.” Phyllis, who is also the narrator of fly-on-the-wall TV show The Highland Vets, which starts its fourth series on Channel 5 tomorrow (MON) night, believes period dramas like Bridgerton and Downton have provided much-needed escapism during the past 18 months of the Covid-19 pandemic. She says: “With the likes of Downton Abbey it looks so magnificent, the costumes are magnificent and the mores of the time are different where you don’t air-kiss and have to be suited and booted, and straight-laced, well certainly outwardly.. who knows what they got up to behind closed doors. “But we try to show some of this too and the public just can’t get enough of this type of costume drama. “Everyone has been bingeing or re-bingeing on their favourite shows just to give them a sense of normality. “If you can watch Bridgerton, if you can watch Downton Abbey, or your favourite comedy show, you think the world is ok now, or get a sense that life is continuing in a fashion.” Downton has also led the way in using older actors in prominent roles at a time when TV and film has been criticised for being ageist. Phyllis says: “It’s been fabulous and long may this continue. With Dame Maggie (Smith), Dame Penelope (Wilton), myself and Jim Carter, the oldies are doing well.” Her husband Kevin McNally, who is also 65, is best known for portraying Joshamee Gibbs in all five Pirates of the Caribbean films but joined the cast of Downton for its second series on ITV as Horace Bryant. Phyllis says: “It was nice to have my husband in Downton as well but it was very peculiar the way it happened. “He was on set at one point and said I have just been offered this job and I said ‘oh, what is it?’ And he said Downton Abbey, and I said ‘very funny, what’s the job?’ And he said Downton Abbey and I said ‘oh come on, I haven’t got time, I’ve got to go back on set’. And he was being serious. “They did not even tell me they were going to offer it to him and I thought they should have run it past me first, surely.” She adds: “And it ended up with most of the scenes we were involved in being together, which was unusual. “In normal circumstances as he was playing a posh person and I was playing the housekeeper as usual, I thought our paths would never cross but the way the storyline worked we were always together. “So sometimes we got picked up in a car together to bring us to the castle and it felt like ‘bring your husband to work day’, so I thought ‘what is going on?’” Phyllis, who also starred as Lady Jane Felsham in Lovejoy with Ian McShane for eight years, met Kevin, who portrayed Bernard Ingham in The Crown last year, when they co-starred in mini-series Love and Reason in 1994. Since then they had only appeared together in short films and an episode of comedy show Rab C Nesbitt until their joint stint in Downton, but Phyllis says she would be happy to work together again in the future. And Kevin’s help was vital when it came to recording the narration for The Highland Vets, which follows the vets, nurses and receptionists at DS McGregor & Partners veterinary practice in Thurso, Caithness, as they treat animals in the remote northern tip of the UK mainland. After recording the first couple of episodes of series one in a studio in London’s Soho, Phyllis has been forced to do her narrations since the first lockdown in March last year from the study of her home in west London. She says: “Kevin was my sound engineer for the Highland Vets. They sent all this equipment and I was so useless at using it that Kevin was thankfully around and on hand to be my sound engineer.” The fourth series of the Highland Vets, which contains seven hour-long episodes, starts with the vets treating a young Common seal spotted struggling on a beach by a walker. She adds: “I haven’t done many narrations. I enjoy this one because it is such a lovely programme, there is always something different cropping up, so it is a pleasure to do it.” As a result of the repeated lockdowns for the pandemic she has yet to travel up to Caithness to meet the staff at the vets. But Prince Charles did pay them a visit during a two-day tour of Scotland, where he is known as the Duke of Rothesay, at the end of last month (JULY). Unfortunately the TV cameras were not there at the time but wearing a kilt, he was welcomed by senior vet and director Guy Gordon, who introduced him to his team, including Katie Reiss, 22, who had only started work a few days earlier. Ms Reiss said: “It’s an unorthodox start to work! We spoke about my training at Edinburgh University and chatted about how the vets have been really helpful integrating me into work. “He (Charles) said to stick at it and not lose hope because I have wanted to be a vet since I was a wee kid.” Guy says: “We felt honoured that Prince Charles was keen to visit our veterinary practice to meet the staff and learn about what we do. “He stayed with us for about 45 minutes chatting about aspects of our work with genuine interest and insight. “The light drizzle didn’t dampen this special occasion nor cause him to hurry, he took time to engage with everyone. “So they have the royal seal of approval.” She adds she loves getting to see The Highland Vets before anyone else to do its narration. “There are a few sad bits that do not go to plan but it is so heartfelt.. and the fact that they are in that location which is absolutely spectacular, that they all love it, they love their lives, their jobs, their workmates, their animals. “It’s just beautiful and lovely and life-affirming stuff, even when things go wrong.” Phyllis also stars in a film, The Last Bus, with Timothy Spall which they shot two years ago but has just been released. It tells the story of an old man whose wife has just died using his free bus pass to travel to the other end of the UK, where they originally lived, with her ashes in a small suitcase. She will also be seen in the second series of BBC drama Guilt, which is due to air later this year. *The new series of The Highland Vet starts tomorrow at 9pm on 5Select. Source: Sunday Express

#downton abbey phyllis logan #Phyllis Logan #downton abbey #elsie hughes #the hightland vet #guilt #lovejoy #the last bus #ladybaby

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fuckyeahtx · 2 years

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Renay Mandel Corren

Obituary- December 15, 2021

El Paso, TX—A plus-sized Jewish lady redneck died in El Paso on Saturday.

Of itself hardly news, or good news if you're the type that subscribes to the notion that anybody not named you dying in El Paso, Texas is good news. In which case have I got news for you: the bawdy, fertile, redheaded matriarch of a sprawling Jewish-Mexican-Redneck American family has kicked it. This was not good news to Renay Mandel Corren's many surviving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, many of whom she even knew and, in her own way, loved. There will be much mourning in the many glamorous locales she went bankrupt in: McKeesport, PA, Renay's birthplace and where she first fell in love with ham, and atheism; Fayetteville and Kill Devil Hills, NC, where Renay's dreams, credit rating and marriage are all buried; and of course Miami, FL, where Renay's parents, uncles, aunts, and eternal hopes of all Miami Dolphins fans everywhere, are all buried pretty deep. Renay was preceded in death by Don Shula.

Because she was my mother, the death of zaftig good-time gal Renay Corren at the impossible old age of 84 is newsworthy to me, and I treat it with the same respect and reverence she had for, well, nothing. A more disrespectful, trash-reading, talking and watching woman in NC, FL or TX was not to be found. Hers was an itinerant, much-lived life, a Yankee Florida liberal Jewish Tough Gal who bowled 'em in Japan, rolled 'em in North Carolina and was a singularly unique parent. Often frustrated by the stifling, conservative culture of the South, Renay turned her voracious mind to the home front, becoming a model stay at home parent, a supermom, really, just the perfect PTA lady, volunteer, amateur baker and-AHHAHAA HA! HA! HA! Just kidding, y'all! Renay - Rosie to her friends, and this was a broad who never met a stranger - worked double shifts with Doreen, ate a ton of carbs with Bernie, and could occasionally be stirred to stew some stuffed cabbage for the kids. She played cards like a shark, bowled and played cribbage like a pro, and laughed with the boys until the wee hours, long after the last pin dropped. At one point in the 1980's, Renay was the 11th or 12th-ranked woman in cribbage in America, and while that could be a lie, it sounds great in print. She also told us she came up with the name for Sunoco, and I choose to believe this, too. Yes, Renay lied a lot. But on the plus side, Renay didn't cook, she didn't clean, and she was lousy with money, too. Here's what Renay was great at: dyeing her red roots, weekly manicures, dirty jokes, pier fishing, rolling joints and buying dirty magazines. She said she read them for the articles, but filthy free speech was really Renay's thing. Hers was a bawdy, rowdy life lived large, broke and loud. We thought Renay could not be killed. God knows, people tried. A lot. Renay has been toying with death for a decades, but always beating it and running off in her silver Chevy Nova. Covid couldn't kill Renay. Neither could pneumonia twice, infections, blood clots, bad feet, breast cancer twice, two mastectomies, two recessions, multiple bankruptcies, marriage to a philandering Sergeant Major, divorce in the 70's, six kids, one cesarean, a few abortions from the Quietly Famous Abortionist of Spring Lake, NC or an affair with Larry King in the 60's. Renay was preceded in death by her ex-boyfriend, Larry King. Renay was also sadly preceded in death by her beloved daughter, Cathy Sue Corren Lester Trammel Webster, of Kill Devil Hills, NC, who herself was preceded in death by two marriages, a fudge shop and one eyeball lost in a near-fatal Pepsi bottle incident that will absolutely be explored in future obituaries. Losing her 1-eyed badass b**** of a daughter in 2007 devastated Renay, but it also made her quite homeless, since Cathy pretty much picked up the tab. A talented and gregarious grifter, Renay M. Corren eked out her final years of luxury (she literally retired at 62) under the care, compassion, checking accounts and, evidently, unlimited patience of her favorite son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Lourdes Corren, of world-famous cow sanctuary El Paso, TX. Renay is also survived by her son Jeffrey Corren and his endlessly tolerant wife Shirley, of Powell's Point, NC; Scott Corren, and what's left of his colon, of Hampton, VA; Marc and Laura Corren, the loveliest dirt farmers of Vernon, TX (seriously, where is that); and her favorite son, the gay one who writes catty obituaries in his spare time, Andy Corren, of - obviously - New York City. Plus two beloved granddogs, Mia and Hudson. Renay was particularly close to and grateful for the lavish attentions of her grandaughter Perla and her great-grandchildren Elijah and Leroy, as well as her constant cruise companions Sam Trammell of Greenville, NC, and Adam Corren of El Paso, TX. Renay took tremendous pride in making 1 gay son and 2 gay grandchildren, Sam Trammell and Adam Corren.

There will be a very disrespectful and totally non-denominational memorial on May 10, 2022, most likely at a bowling alley in Fayetteville, NC. The family requests absolutely zero privacy or propriety, none what so ever, and in fact encourages you to spend some government money today on a 1-armed bandit, at the blackjack table or on a cheap cruise to find our inheritance. She spent it all, folks. She left me nothing but these lousy memories. Which I, and my family of 5 brothers and my sister-in-laws, nephews, friends, nieces, neighbors, ex-boyfriends, Larry King's children, who I guess I might be one of, the total strangers who all, to a person, loved and will cherish her. Forever. Please think of the brightly-frocked, frivolous, funny and smart Jewish redhead who is about to grift you, tell you a filthy joke, and for Larry King's sake: LAUGH. Bye, Mommy. We loved you to bits.

RIP RENAY MANDEL CORREN 10 MAY 1937 - 11 DEC 2021

#write me up like this when i'm gone

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girlactionfigure · 2 years

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Renay Mandel Corren

Obituary

El Paso, TX—A plus-sized Jewish lady redneck died in El Paso on Saturday.

RIP RENAY MANDEL CORREN 10 MAY 1937 - 11 DEC 2021

Published in The Fayetteville Observer, Funerals Today

Best. Obituary. Ever.

Accidental Talmudist

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route22ny · 3 years

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Survivor stories: Death, loss and selflessness during the pandemic

By Jacqueline Cutler / New York Daily News

Those days when the word corona made you think beer or crown feel like long-gone innocence.

So much happened during these 18 months that how we’re reacting to different phases of the pandemic and how survivors are coping are worth documenting.

“Voices from the Pandemic: Americans Tell Their Stories of Crisis, Courage and Resilience” is a powerful reflection on the last year and a half. Pulitzer-winning journalist Eli Saslow has managed the near-impossible: He makes you want to read more about the pandemic.

This doesn’t bother with maps of where the virus is spiking or death tolls. It can’t be of the moment. Instead, it’s the story of all of us — those who have taken every precaution and those who refused to acknowledge COVID’s deadly path.

Done in the style of the late great Studs Terkel, these are oral histories as the history is happening. Each section has people sharing their stories in their words.

Sure, it’s edited for clarity, but there’s no spin. It’s unfailingly fair: When a tenant recounts her eviction, the next entry is from a landlord who exhausted her savings trying to not evict people.

Even though we think we know the stories of the pandemic, we can’t – at least not all of them. And we never may. Saslow carefully selected a cross-section of people; some who have since died, some who recovered, some who never may.

Saslow reminds us of the first whisperings. On Jan. 4, 2020, there was news about what was considered a pneumonia outbreak in China. Five weeks later, it had a name, COVID-19.

A month later, life as we knew it stopped.

“She’s dead, and I’m quarantined,” Tony Sizemore, of Indianapolis, says of his love, Birdie Shelton, in the first entry from March 2020. “That’s how the story ends. I keep going back over it in loops, trying to find a way to sweeten it, but nothing changes the facts. I wasn’t there with her at the end. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I don’t even know where her body is right now, or if the only thing that’s left is her ashes.”

With that gut-wrenching opening, we’re off. We meet dozens of people we’ve never heard of, which is precisely the point. Everyone knew when Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson were among the first celebrities to get COVID.

But this book introduces Bruce MacGillis, a man in an Ohio nursing home. He refused to let temp workers who couldn’t wear masks correctly get near him and isolated himself until he was vaccinated.

“I’m a hard-ass about this stuff, and I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he told Saslow. “I can’t afford to take chances.”

Some who tell their stories are the superheroes of the pandemic.

A shift leader of a nursing team in Detroit, Sal Hadwan, recounts insane shifts. While we celebrate and honor health care workers – now more than ever – the dire conditions they were working under were horrifying. Remember garbage bags serving as protective gear? Some had one mask per shift.

In April 2020, Hadwan said: “We’re basically handling the most severe cases in the ER, which is not our training. These nurses don’t have a second to relax. You’ve got one patient’s oxygen running out and another whose heart rate is going wild. All you can do is try your best to hear the alarms and then sprint as fast as you can from one emergency to the next. You hope you make it in time. Sometimes you don’t.”

Naturally, it’s bleak. But there are also stories of humanity at its best.

Burnell Cotlon of New Orleans (pictured above) turned his grocery store in the Lower Ninth Ward into a food pantry. He couldn’t afford to, but some of his neighbors couldn’t afford to eat.

As he said in April 2020, “Last week, I caught a lady in the back of the store stuffing things into her purse. We don’t really have shoplifters here.” He knows the customers in his two-aisle market. The woman swiped a carton of eggs, hot dogs, and candy bars.

“She started crying,” Cotlon told Saslow. “She said she had three kids, and her man had lost his job, and they had nothing to eat and no place to go. Maybe it was a lie. I don’t know. But who’s making up stories for seven or eight dollars of groceries? She was telling me, ‘Please, please, I’m begging you. How are we supposed to eat?’ I stood there for a minute and thought about it, and what am I going to do?”

Colton started running tabs – for the first time. He went from having zero customers on credit to 62 within a month. He kept giving to neighbors until he fell three months behind on his mortgage.

In a postscript, Saslow adds that when Colton’s generosity became known, online fundraisers brought in $500,000. Naturally, he put it to great use: forgiving his customers’ debt and beginning construction on a subsidized apartment building. “He also gave out free school supplies and turned his store into a free vaccination site for the community.”

Every page in this is sobering. Every story chilling, relatable, and absolutely forthright.

For those who lost their jobs and who were living paycheck-to-paycheck, rent became impossible to pay. To lose your job, your health, your relatives and now your home is unbearable. Granted, the news often focuses on the tenants, while many of us assume landlords only take time out from counting their money to harass tenants.

It’s a lot easier to feel for the tenants, who are doing all they can.

Saslow interviewed Tusdae Barr, evicted during the pandemic. Although money was tight before COVID, Barr was making rent with everyone in her family chipping in — until work dried up. Barr eventually found herself ousted, then in cheap motels, and finally with relatives.

If you never thought you could sympathize with a landlord, meet Jayne Rocco of Deland, Fla. She became a landlord 25 years ago when broke, reeling from a divorce. Rocco found a lender, bought and fixed up a cheap house, then flipped it and bought two houses. She continued doing this until she had 10 properties, none fancy. Rocco’s profit was about $40,000 a year pre-pandemic.

Trying to help her tenants and pay her bills, Rocco exhausted her savings. She’s still trying, and still has troubles. With some of the people featured, their troubles are financial. For some, such as a newlywed, former athlete Kaitlin Denis, of Chicago, the effects of long-term COVID, are medical. She’s drained and can barely get out of bed.

And some trying to help, such as Amber Elliot, county health director in Farmington, Mo., found herself threatened with anti-vaxxers posting photos of her kids online.

The book ends with a leading voice of science. Stanley Plotkin, 88, a virologist, “developed the rubella vaccine that’s now in standard use throughout the world.” He’s worked on other life-saving vaccines and consults for the World Health Organization.

“Parents can expect their children to grow up, and that’s a relatively new thing,” Plotkin told Saslow in January. “It shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

If this pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that nothing can.

(source)

#life during covid #NYDN #eli saslow #voices from the pandemic #get vaxxed

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danurso · 3 years

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I'm not sure if i'm going to keep writting

I'm the type of guy who likes to work in my stuff at my own lazy pace, which is why most of my stories take awhile to go out, but i loved to write them so i kelt working on them despite knowing how it's hard for me to keep a storyline going, but right now, i don't know if i can keep writting.

Recently i've lost my cat, which is something i know a lot of people go through, they lose their pets, suffer for a while and then move on, but my cat wasn't just a pet to me, he was my best friend and seemed to be smarter than a lot of the people that "care" about me.

On the last decade i saw family members die, my grandmother found out sye has cancer and my biological dad got covid, and yet, i couldn't bring myself to feel anything thanks to a tendency to build barriers to keep everyone out, the only ones i don't have barries with are my mother and my cat, which is why when i woke up a few days back with my mother crying saying he was dying i was devastated, i kneeled next to him watching him barelly being able to breathe and crying for i have no idea how long. Last time i felt like this was more than a decade ago when i lost my grandfather and my stepdad, my two father figues who raised me.

And of course, we have the irony as well, because my life is apoarently a very funny joke to someone. I've always dreamed of having a gaming PC when i was a kid and spend a lot of free time researching and planning how i would build my own when i had the chance, and a few weeks back i got that chance and bought everything i needed to build it. I was over the moon about it, could barelly sleep because of how excited i was, and then an hour after he dies, while i'm still crying and feeling worse than shit, the parts arrive for me to make my dream come true........are you fucking serious?

Not to mention the complete and utter slap on the face that my mother gave me, I don't blame her, she saw her usually cold son suffering like she hadn't seen in years, so she left and came back with a fucking new cat. I know she was panicked and just wanted me to feel better, but the moment i put my eyes on it my blood started to boil, i wanted to scream at her and ask what the fuck she was thinking, but since i'm not a braindead snowflake who thinks my feelings matter more than those of the poeple around me, i just took a deep breath and went to my room.

She brings the cat to me sometimes and gushes about how cute he is, but every time i look at it all i can feel is a slap on my face and a voice screaming on my head "HE'S FUCKING DEAD!!" My mom even told me the 'tragic' story of the cat, about how he's been on the adotpion home for a year now and nobody wanted him, how he went straight to my mom and how the lady said that "he was just waiting for her to come pick him up" which was nauseating for me to hear, she at the end said he was not the cat i lost but asked if i could love him as well, i've always been on a messed up emotional state, even more now than ever, but i've always been honest to her so i told her i wouldn't love it, She then started to cry and got angry at me, repeating his story and saying that now she would give it back to the adoption home, it once more pissed me off how she was angry because i didn't care about a new cat that she brought home a few hours after i lost the cat i saw being born and loved more than anything on this world. She was bluffing of course and the cat is still there, i don't get close to it but it seems to like my room so i usually keep it closed, and if it gets in i'll just gently pick him up and leave him on the corridor, i also usually give him food and water even thought i don't like him since again, i'm not a braindead snowflake, i might hate him but i'm not gonna watch him starve or treat him baddly, he's not at fault here so i treat him well while keeping the most distance i possibly can.

So yeah, i still feel like shit, i cry from time to time, i don't feel like getting up or eating, i have now a built PC but don't feel like playing on it, just got an heirloom on apex (because why the hell wouldn't i in this wonderful week?) And am not playing very much, and above all, i hadn't wrote a single word ever since i lost him, and i don't even know if i will keep on the writting.

Writting has been one of my biggest passions for years now, i've wrote enough stuff on private to fill almost three entire bibles, not counting the promots i post here, so i do want to keep writting, but every single day it gets harder to do anything i like, i haven't wrote a thing for any of my sotries and even for my OC's that i enjoy writting every now and then, so yeah, i wanna keep going but if you never see me posting again you already know why.

Sorry if this was a long post but i needed to get this off my chest, i feel like posts like these are stupid coming from me, but i at least wanted to clarify things in case i stop writting completely, i wanna try and keep going, once i get my head in place again i'll sit down and try to get some stories done, i love writting and i don't wanna stop, but in case i can't do it, i just want you guys to know you're all awesome, thank you for all the support and nice messages you left in my stories, they always make me smile when i'm feeling down. I hope i can make more stories you can enjoy in the future.

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schnoogles · 3 years

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1) Artist of the image above: Jenny

2) Help Our Voices Be Heard: Sign the Petition

3) Thread of violent crimes against Asian Americans

4) Amanda Nguyen on NBCnewyork

5) David So podcast

6) WongFu Productions ft NextShark (asian american news) Founder Benny Lou

7) Daniel Wu and Daniel Dae Kim on msnbc

8) politicians pitting POC against each other (as per fucking usual)

hey guys, happy Lunar New Year! i really hope you’re all doing well and i wanna wish you guys a happy and healthy new year!

honestly, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to make a post about this, i’m not a very articulate person and i’m sure there are stronger voices out there. and usually i try to make my time on tumblr as positive as possible b/c let’s be real. the world is shitty and memes are my small source of fun most days. but this topic hits too close to home.

so in case you didn’t know, the hate-crimes against asian americans are fucking bad. i mean. this has been going on for years but the rise of hate-crimes has increased since COVID (obviously). and it's really really hard for me to sum up just how angry and frustrated i feel when i watch yet another video of our elders being attacked, brutalized and killed. just for being asian.

this may be the first time you’re hearing about this violence if you aren’t asian or you aren’t following asian american news because the mainstream media does not spotlight our stories. one of the main issues of this whole thing is that the media just... ignores us. because asians are the “model minority” and we have the “good stereotypes” so every hate-crime that’s ever happened to us is normalized and gets brushed under the rug or forgotten after a while. (like hi, united airlines? the rest of world may have forgotten, but we haven’t) &like the media only just recently started talking about this because people were making an uproar and applying pressure to them. and guess what? racism against asians is a real thing. we matter. we’re not fucking disposable. and like Amanda Nguyen recently said, “We’re dying to be heard.” Literally. in the last couple of weeks alone, countless of hate crimes have occurred against the asian american community. specifically, against our elders. from the murder of an 84 year old Thai man, to the robbery of a 64 year old Vietnamese woman, to the Filipino man who had his faced slashed on the subway. this is happening all across the US (and i’m sure other western countries too)

and right now all i’m asking is for you to share this. or make your own post. tell everyone about what’s going on. spread it like wildfire. let the world know that our stories matter too. we all need to band together to fight this. and i’m not talking just asian people. like, if you got a mum or dad. grandma, grandpa, auntie or uncle. and you don’t want to see them be assaulted when they’re minding their own business? then we’re on the same side. it’s easy as that.

idk more thoughts under the cut

okay i may just be regurgitating all the same fucked up news but there’s just something horrific about watching an old asian lady being robbed at the grocery store as she’s shopping for the lunar new year (a time which SHOULD be filled with joy and kindness and family and love) and about watching an old asian man getting assaulted for just walking down the neighborhood and then knowing that he died from those wounds. and they’re especially horrifying because when i see these elderly people getting attacked, i see my own parents. my aunties. my uncles. and a lot of these crimes are happening in my own city. like okay, i’ve been attacked for being asian. i can handle it. my parents CAN’T. they are old and weak and vulnerable. they're easy targets.

it’s scary. and it’s also confusing because these attacks are happening in pretty diverse cities. San Francisco, San Jose, Oakland, NYC. and the fact that these are attacks aimed at the ELDERLY really fucking makes me sick you know? i can’t get over that. these are people who came to this country thinking it was a land of opportunity. a place where they could build a family and a life. a home. and they’re out here minding their own business and they get attacked. and FOR WHAT. what kind of shitty ass person attacks the elderly?

what infuriates me even more is that this is happening during the Lunar New Year time. a time where we’re supposed to be celebrating family and prosperity and unity and new beginnings. a time where we’re supposed to be kind to one another. and instead people are being murdered.

#AAPI #hate crime #Asian Americans #tw violence #racism #asian racism #they can’t burn us all

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tilbageidanmark · 3 years

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Movies I watched this week - 39

I spent over 50 (!) hours on the sofa this week, (enjoying myself 85% of the time)...

Sløborn, an ominous Danish-German TV pandemic series, very much like Soderbergh’s ‘Contagion’ and in ‘Black Mirror’ style. Normal life of a small island community between Denmark and Germany breaks down and completely collapses when it is hit by a lethal bird flue like virus.

It was extremely prescient, as it was shot in 2019, before Covid! Conceived as Si-fi, it looks today like TV, because the series was able to capture everything that happened around the world after January 2020 in accurate details.

With Roland Møller (of ‘Riders of Justice’). 7+/10

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My introduction to “The grandmother of The French New Wave”, Agnès Varda (Hard to believe that I never saw her films before!):

✳️✳️✳️ “Inspiration, Creation and Sharing...” Varda by Agnès, my first Varda is her last 2019 auto-biography, in which, at 90, she shared footage and stories from her life and work. The first sample clip (of meeting her Uncle Yanco in Sausalito) won me over, and the rest convinced me to catch up on everything I’ve missed through the years. What a wonderful artist!

✳️✳️✳️ Cléo from 5 to 7. A feminine film about female identity - a new favorite! A beautiful singer must wait 2 hours for the results of her cancer tests. With a magnifique mid-film scene (at 0;38) of the heartbreaking chanson 'Sans Toi', marking the beginning of her quiet transformation.

✳️✳️✳️ Vagabond, a story of a lonely, young woman, an unapologetic drifter, unglamorous, aimless, independent, desperately lost. Dark and nonjudgmental exploration of the refusal to conform to anything. 8+/10.

✳️✳️✳️ (For Sammy - Per our conversation). The Gleaners and I, "The eighth best documentary film of all time”, per ‘Sight & Sound poll. Derived from the famous painting by Millet. Simply wonderful!

✳️✳️✳️ One Hundred And One Nights, 100 year old Michel Piccoli “Monsieur Simon Cinema”, hires a young girl to reminisce with about the history of cinema. An unsuccessful Meta-film that nevertheless is a love letter for cinephiles. Populated by 3 dozens of Who’s Who of French (and World) stars, playacting in this symbolic, Fellinisque fable that draws upon the classics. Mastroianni, Depardieu, Belmondo, Alain Delon, Catherine Deneuve, Jeanne Moreau, Anouk Aimée, Fanny Ardant, Gina Lollobrigida, Jane Birkin, etc, etc..

(Photo Above).

✳️✳️✳️ The Young Girls of Rochefort, the wonderful, colorful, sentimental musical by Varda’s husband Jacques Demy, with the most beautiful woman in the world and her sister. Romantic eye candy set to music by Michel Legrand. A year later Deneuve would do Belle de Jour, and Françoise Dorléac would die in a car accident, 8+/10

✳️✳️✳️ Even better, The Young Girls Turn 25, Varda’s 1993 behind the scenes documentary and return to small town Rocheford, to show how it changed the town and left an impression. 9/10

“...The memory of happiness is perhaps also happiness...”

✴️

The other Jacques Demy modern opera The Umbrellas of Cherbourg knocked me over all over again. Catherine Deneuve’s angelic beauty in this film made me cry for the duration like a baby. And not only at the train station when they say goodbye forever.

10/10

✴️

Night moves, a tense thriller by Kelly Reichardt, about three radical environmentalists who blow up an Oregon dam. Slow and tense, and like her ‘First Cow’, watching it filled me with constant, low-level anxiety. The off-screen sabotage is placed at the exact mid-point of the movie: The first half is the preparation for it, and the second half shows the aftermath of the act. 7+/10

✴️

2 unexpected Small Town gems by Miguel Arteta:

✳️✳️✳️ The good Girl, an odd and surprising mismatched romance between 30 year old Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal (22) as employees of a Texas big-box store that is always empty. Her voice-over reminded me of True Romance’s Alabama Whitman. 7/10

✳️✳️✳️ Ed Helms, a sheltered insurance salesman from the backwaters of Wisconsin, goes to an convention in the big city of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The nearly conventional story arc has some genuinely heartfelt funny moments. With Maeby Fünke, as Bree the prostitute and Sigourney Weaver as the ex-teacher he balls. Also a surprising drug party, where he smoke crack cocaine and loves it. 5+/10

✴️

Same theme of people prostituting their own ‘morals’, the notoriously-prudish 1993 Indecent Proposal didn’t age too well. “Billionaire”-porn that asks the question ‘How much would you pay for one night with Robert Redford?’ Gratuitous semi-naked Demi Moore included.

Related: “Stop hitting the button!”

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Wildland (Kød & blod = Flesh and blood), an uncomfortable and claustrophobic Danish gangster thriller about a 17 year old girl who moves in with the criminal family of Sidse Babett Knudsen, her estranged aunt. 6+/10

“For some people, things go wrong before they even begin”

✴️

Jim Jarmusch‘s Broken Flowers, a touching road film with Bill Murray, as an old ‘Don Juan’ who receive a pink, unsigned letter from an old lover, letting him know that he has a 20 year old son he never knew about.

Loveliest film of the week.

✴️

The 2 films directed by Tom Ford:

✳️✳️✳️ A single Man, a sad and lonely gay professor, closeted in 1962 Los Angeles, is preparing to kill himself with a gun, after his boyfriend / love of his life had died in a car accident. Mute and haunting aesthetics in the fashion designer’s debut film, based on a Christopher Isherwood novel.

The ‘Stormy Weather’ dance scene between Charley and George. 8/10

✳️✳️✳️ Nocturnal Animals: Amy Adams is an unhappy owner of a fancy art gallery who receives a disturbing book manuscript written by her ex-husband, which symbolizes their relationship 20 years prior. Rarefied visuals and distinctive style.

Starts with an astonishing scene of obese old ladies dancing naked at Amy’s gala event. Michael Shannon rules as a dying Texas detective! 6+/10.

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Jean Vigo’s 1933 classic Zero for Conduct was so blatantly anarchistic, it was immediately banned in France until after WW2. In silent film style, it tells about a group of mischievous kids who rebel against the authorities of their old-fashioned boarding school. Part-inspiration for Truffaut's 400 Blows.

✴️

Anatomy of a murder, Otto Preminger’s 1960 courtroom drama, with opening credits by Saul Bass. Crisp black & white cinematography, and with rape victim Lee Remick playing it as an outgoing loose girl of ambiguous morals, a modern floozy. 7/10.

✴️

Blush, a wondrous, spectacularly-animated, wordless short by Joe Mateo. What starts as a riff on ‘The Little Prince’, ends up like the opening montage from ‘Up’. The obvious realization that this is a personal metaphor makes the story even deeper.

I watched it twice back to back. 10/10

✴️

If You're Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast - 95 year old Carl Reiner asks a bunch of charming nonagenarian friends how they manage to live so well for so long. Their answers may (not) shock you...

Spry Dick Van Dyke (92) and half-his-age wife end the film with a lovely rendition of “Young at heart”

✴️

Hi-school-level adaptation of Thomas Piketty's book Capital in the 21st Century. A breezy discussion of how slave economy and colonialist military repression 300 years ago turn into extreme capitalism of inequality & tax-avoidance today. America is now similar economically to what England was in the early 1800s. A tiny percentage of society controls almost all its wealth. (Full text of the book here).

✴️

Ride the eagle, a flat new indie about a guy whose estranged hippy mother leaves him her cabin at the lake when she dies, but only if he complete a certain list of tasks. Could be so much better, but the actor playing the guy was just so terrible. Unlike JK Simmons who had a small role. Best detail, when he discovers that all the cabinets in the house are full with pot.

✴️

Old, my first, (and possibly last), M. Night Shyamalan. The seductive premise of a secluded beach at a fancy tropical resort that ages everybody who comes there, turns into an unconvincing Twilight Zone bore.

...”(Gurgling sounds)”...

✴️

First watch: I never saw (any) Planet of the apes before, and in spite of my misgivings, gave it a go. 100% anthropomorphic, it couldn’t visualize a universe different from the American mindset of that period. Preachy and very Rod Sterling-like. "It's a madhouse in here”. Pass!

✴️

The latest Veritasium YouTube video about bowling current technology. Always interesting.

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Planet of the Apes Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 9

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - Present Days

What did dying feels like? Bela couldn't remember the day she died, before she was turned. For many and many years, she wondered how it even happened. Maybe she was incurably ill. That would be the only plausible explanation on why Lady Dimitrescu decided to transform her into a vampire. Having an illness herself, she must've felt sorry for Bela being so young and already losing her life.

But that night, after being drugged by Mother Miranda, the memory from that tragic event returned to her memory stronger like never.

It was a cold night in the 1950's. Alcina threw a special dinner and invited her three favorite and most loyal servants. Three young girls. They felt honored sitting at the same table as their mistress. They were chatting and giggling but then... something started to feel strange. Starting by the fact none of the servants were around.

It began as a burning sensation in Bela's stomach. She tried to ignore it but it'd only grow stronger. She dropped the silverware she was holding. She attempted to swallow another sip of tea. By her side, she noticed one of the other two girls, the brunette one, starting to show signs of discomfort too.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Lady Dimitrescu asked when the red haired girl, the youngest of the three, started coughing.

"I can't..." she tried to answer, but the words got lost in her throat as she began to suffocate, "b-breathe..."

Bela tried to stand up and help her, but her surroundings started to spin. She held on the table for support. At this point, the brunette girl was already lying on the floor, having some kind of seizure. She looked at Lady Dimitrescu again, but she didn't seem to be worried. She seemed abnormally calm.

"W-What have you..." before she could finish the question, her lungs could no longer fill with oxygen. Her throat and her airways started to burn. She tried and tried to breathe, but it seemed impossible. The weakness started on her legs and spread to the rest of her body really quickly. In fact, she barely felt when she collapsed on the floor. When the seizures started, she was barely conscious. Her vision was already going black, but she still had time to see the Countess staring at her body, almost lifeless, as she said:

"Don't worry, daughter. Everything will be alright."

Poisoned. She was poisoned.

When Bela woke up it was already morning. She could tell by the rays of sunlight entering through the windows. She hadn't died this time, but the sensations she experienced were quite similar. Her head was aching intensely and her vision was still blurred. Whatever Miranda had injected in her blood had affected her senses very badly.

"Aleena," she finally remembered. She tried to get up but her legs were still weak. "I need to find her."

She kept moving slowly, using the walls and furniture for support. If only she could transform into flies, it would be a lot easier, but it hurt to even try.

"Fuck!" Bela cursed, frustrated. She threw herself on a couch for a moment. She needed to rest.

Her eyes analyzed her surroundings. Although Bela was in her mother's chambers, Lady Dimitrescu was nowhere to be seen.

Hours had passed since she was drugged. Anything could've happened during this time. She wondered if Aleena was still there and if she was okay. She had to be. But what if she slept for days? What if the ritual had already happened? Aleena could be dead in that exact moment and she wasn't there to protect her. That thought made her stomach feel sick. And rare were the occasions she felt sick after being turned.

"Bela!" Daniela opened the door, she seemed so confused and scared as she was. "There you are, sister! Oh my god, I was starting to think you were dead."

"You wish..." Bela moaned sarcastically. She couldn't miss the opportunity. "What the fuck happened, Dani? Where's that bitch?"

"Who? Cassandra?"

Daniela handed her a cup full of human blood. Bela drank it all in one sip. That was the only thing able to restore her body from the damage Miranda caused.

Cassandra. She remembered her middle sister being the one who told her to go to her mother's office. Traitor! She should've known when she appeared to be so supportive of her relationship with Aleena in the previous day.

"No, Mother Miranda."

"Mother Miranda was here?"

Before she could answer, the door opened with a slam. It was Cassandra, looking completely fine. She had blood around her mouth and all over her dress. In a blink of an eye, Bela lunged forward, pinning her against the wall.

"How could you?!" She yelled. "You sent me directly to a trap!"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra argued. "Somebody caught me on a corridor and stabbed my neck with a needle, then I passed out."

"Come on, don't lie to us," Daniela shouted. "You entered my room last night and drugged me."

"And why I would even do this to both of you?"

Realizing what happened, Bela immediately let her go.

"Mother Miranda," she huffed. "She must have shapeshifted into you and attacked us all."

It was time to tell her sisters what she learned from Heisenberg. Miranda had already started to proceed with her plans and it was a matter of time before she attempted to kill them.

"This bitch is going to die!" Cassandra punched the wall. "Nobody pretends to be me and lives."

"This is the least of our problems," Bela said. "She can be anywhere right now, pretending to be someone we trust and ready to kill us all."

"Where's mom?" Daniela asked. "I couldn't find her anywhere."

Lady Dimitrescu was the last person Bela wanted to see. She lied and betrayed her, besides helping Mother Miranda to drug her.

"I don't know, I searched for her everywhere," Cassandra told. "On the bright side, there's fresh breakfast spread all around the castle."

"What do you mean, Cassandra?" Bela wanted to know.

"The servants. They're all dead."

"What about Aleena? Have you seen her?"

"No, I thought she was with you."

Bela transformed into flies and went straight to Aleena's bedroom. It was completely empty. The bed was still made as in the previous night. She went to her own bedroom next. The diary was opened on the bed, right on the pages where her father confirmed what Miranda told her in the office, Aleena was indeed the vessel.

Mrs. Volkov corpse was lying on the corridor and not so far away, there was a trail of blood, Aleena's blood. She froze in place, too terrified to even think.

"It doesn't mean anything," Daniela placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe she managed to escape."

"She probably did, that girl is fierce," Cassandra added, noticing how disturbed her older sister looked. "I mean, she's not one of the Lords or a servant. There's no reason for that crazy bitch to murder her."

"There is," Bela sighed deeply. "She's the vessel. Miranda was playing us like puppets. The goblet thing was already intentional, to bring Aleena to the castle where she'd be safe until she prepared the ritual."

"Oh fuck, this is bad."

"I... I'm going to the village. Maybe she's hiding in her house."

----------

Eastern Europe, Village - Present Days

When Bela left, she didn't even bother to check the temperature or to mount one of her horses. She transformed into flies and started to fly to the village as fast as she could. Everything that mattered was finding Aleena. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. They were going to California together and they'd start a brand new life.

She stopped by her house first. The door was locked and the extra key hidden in a vase at the entrance, just where Aleena placed it before they returned to the castle.

"It doesn't mean she's not here," Bela tried to convince herself. "She must have found another way in, to not make it obvious she's hiding here."

She used the key to open the front door. The house was dark and silent. There weren't any signs of somebody's recent presence. She checked every room, the basement, the secret weapon storage... Aleena definitely wasn't there.

"Maybe she's at the pub or at one of her friends' houses," Bela concluded.

There was no way. She had to do that. She took a deep breath, gathering enough courage to enter the pub. There were only three people in there, a middle aged woman behind the counter, a blonde young male cleaning the tables and a girl, who was strangely similar to Cassandra, chatting to both of them. Bela recognized them from the pictures Aleena showed her. They were Olga, Gustav and Elena.

"Hello," she announced her presence. They all stopped to stare at her, but none of them had freaked out yet. Maybe they hadn't noticed the tattoo.

"How can we help you, darling?" The older woman asked. "Are you a foreigner?"

"I... uhh... I'm looking for Aleena Novak."

"She isn't here," it was the boy who answered this time. He had a lot of anger in his voice. "She was taken to Castle Dimitrescu a few weeks ago. We don't even know if she's still alive."

"She is," Bela told. "I've been taking care of her."

They finally understood. Their expressions all changed to pure terror and panic. The two younger adults hid behind the counter, together with the woman. The male grabbed a shotgun.

"Get the hell out of here!" He ordered. "And if Aleena escaped, don't you even dare to touch her again or I'll kill you. I'll find her and bring her home."

"Trust me, manthing. This is exactly what I'm planning to do. Mother Miranda has kidnapped her. She has been planning to sacrifice her in some kind of sick ritual tonight."

"Liar!" Cassandra's doppelgänger shouted. "Mother Miranda wouldn't do such a thing! She's always guiding and protecting us. Everything she does is for the best of all of us."

"Listen, little one," Bela exhaled deeply. She had no patience for humans. That was the reason why she avoided them. They'd usually annoy her to the point they became her prey. "I have proof. Aleena's father has left this diary, reporting everything."

"That man was insane. Most of the villagers hated him."

"But he never lied," Gustav spoke. "Adrian had some crazy theories nobody ever believed but... I've never seen him lying before. He was a man of his word."

"This is true," Olga added. "We grew up together. He was absolutely nasty, a real bastard, but not a liar. He wouldn't invent such a thing, especially when it came to protecting Aleena."

Olga locked the door and the group reunited in one of the tables, analyzing the notes Adrian Novak left.

"Fuck," Gustav cursed, while trying to speak on his phone. "Auryk must've gone after this contacts. I can't reach him."

"Do you have any ideas of where Aleena could've gone to, if she was trying to hide?" Bela asked.

"Other than our houses and the pub? Well... we had this fort in the woods when we were children. Maybe she's hiding there."

"Show me the way, little man."

But Gustav wasn't the one who was most familiar with the path to Aleena's childhood fort, it was Elena. The young woman followed them, complaining about literally everything and praising Mother Miranda.

"Mother Miranda would never do that!" Elena protested. "I'd trust her with my life."

"I was about your age when she did this to me, without my consent," Bela took off the hat she was wearing, exposing her scar. "And do you think immortality is a blessing? Try spending your life locked inside a castle, without being able to go outside most of the time."

"Why are we even trusting her, Gustav? She feeds on human blood and now we're alone with her in the middle of nowhere."

"If that makes you feel more comfortable, I've already had breakfast. Besides, I prefer drinking men's blood."

"Can we just focus on Aleena?" Gustav scolded both of them. Bela had finally found a man she respected. That boy was completely loyal and protective of her girlfriend, so he deserved some credit. "God knows why Bela is searching for her but... we have the same goal here."

"We're dating," Bela informed them of the latest news. "I love her. For real."

Both of the young humans stared at her in shock.

"It seems like we'll have a lot to catch up when I see Aleena again," the boy shook his head in disbelief. "I thought the vampire thing was just a phase."

They finally found the small wooden fortress in the middle of the woods. It was mostly destroyed, but it still could fit one adult person inside it.

"Aleena!" Gustav called. There was no answer. Still, Aleena was hurt. Maybe she was unconscious.

"Go," Bela poked Elena and ordered. "You're the shortest of us. Check if she's in there."

The girl rolled her eyes, but obeyed, ducking and entering the small fort. But there wasn't even a sign Aleena was there recently.

"Where do we search now?" Elena asked.

"I'll go to the other Lords," Bela told. "Maybe one of them is keeping her for Miranda. Thank you for your help, little humans. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Bela walked away from them. Maybe in another life, they could've been friends. The priority now was to find Aleena. She wondered if the girl went to Heisenberg seeking for protection or if Miranda had captured and taken her to that creepy cave. There wasn't much time to think, she needed to act.

She followed to Heisenberg's factory. As usual the man was swearing and torturing human beings on his basement.

"What brings you here, kid?" He asked. "Did you find the diaries?"

"Yes, but too late unfortunately," she answered. "The information we were searching for: all the women in Aleena's family have some kind of immunity against the creatures and their mutations. They healed after getting bitten by Lycans, Aleena healed when you attacked her... she's the vessel."

"We have to kill her immediately. Before Miranda puts her hands on her. If that happens, we're fucked."

"She already did. She showed up in the castle last night, drugged me and my sisters, killed the servants and now... I can't find Aleena anywhere."

"Girl, you had the opportunity in your hands," he clenched his fists. "If you had killed her, like you freaks do to every single human that steps into that castle, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Shut up, Heisenberg!" Bela grabbed a piece of metallic scrap from the floor and threw in the man's direction. "I had no idea. Even if I did, she's my girlfriend and I have to save her before she's sacrificed on Miranda's ritual."

"Good luck with that. The crazy bitch is very good hiding things."

And Bela knew that. Next, she went to Moreau's, Miranda's most loyal follower. She didn't reveal any information, she simply tricked him by inventing an excuse, that stupid freak was easy to fool. But Aleena certainly wasn't there either. Using her flies, she checked the entire place. She did the same at Donna's house. While she entertained the woman and her creepy doll having a tea party with them, her flies inspected every corner of her eerie house.

She was about to follow to Miranda's cave when she ran into Cassandra, in the middle of the way.

"What are you doing, Bela?" She asked. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?

"I'm searching for Aleena. She's gotta be somewhere and the last place I must check is the cave."

"Mother is home," her sister announced. "She wants to talk to you."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - Present Days

In Bela's imagination, Lady Dimitrescu would apologize. Admit she had made a huge mistake and promise her they'd find Aleena together. That was who her adoptive mother was, she'd always do anything to make her daughters happy. But at the same time, she was also that same woman from her memory. The selfish Countess who killed three young girls to have them as her adoptive daughters. She killed, violated and turned them into monsters. What kind of mother was that?

The three sisters were sitting on the couch, waiting as their mother brought a tray with tea and some other treats. That would probably be their only food for days, as Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda had killed all the servants.

Lady Dimitrescu sat on an armchair in front of them, looking at Bela mostly.

"I understand you're confused, daughters. But I'll explain everything."

"Where's Aleena?" Bela quickly asked. That was the only thing that mattered. Who cared about Mother Miranda's child who died ages ago? "What have you two done to her?"

"Bela, daughter... I understand you're upset and frustrated. However, Mother Miranda has been searching for the perfect vessel to bring her daughter back to life for many and many years. This vessel happens to be Aleena. It's her fate, her purpose."

Bela eyes were burning in pure rage. How could Alcina be so blind? Even Heisenberg, that scumbag of man, was smarter than her mother was.

"Her fate is to live her own life, to go to California and achieve her dreams. Her fate is to be with me!"

"I apologize for having to get rid of all of our servants," she clearly ignored her daughter's objections. "They wouldn't understand what's to come. Once Eva is back to life, things will change. I'd like to ask you girls to behave and treat her well, like if she's a new sister of yours. We'll be throwing a party to welcome Eva to our family and I'll need your help to organize it."

"Party?!" Bela let out a sarcastic laugh. "Are you naive or only stupid? Miranda is going to kill you before this ritual is even finished! It has been her plan all along."

"Bela!" Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed and she raised her voice. "I'm your mother! You owe me some respect, little lady."

"I don't! Not when you drugged me and let Miranda kidnap my girlfriend. I want to know where she is."

"Daughter..." Alcina grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered her voice. An useless attempt to help her to calm down. "Aleena is gone. She's dead."

The world seemed to stop. As well as the clock. The voices. Everything. Not even Bela's brain was capable of working and processing the words she had just listened. Dead. Aleena was dead. Her Aleena. Her girlfriend. The woman she loved. She stopped breathing. Her stomach ached as much as in the night she was poisoned. She felt she was about to collapse and die again. Her heart was beating in a strange manner. It was out of control. She was out of control.

Bela raised her golden yellow eyes, filled with hateful tears and stared directly into Lady Dimitrescu's eyes.

"You..." she clenched her fists. "You lied to me... You betrayed me..."

"I was willing to let her live, daughter," the woman tried to excuse herself. "Until the last meeting. Mother Miranda told me the truth and asked me to give her the vessel."

"HER NAME WAS ALEENA," using her strength, Bela grabbed the heavy coffee table and threw it across the room, shocking her mother and sisters. "She had a name! She was NOT a vessel."

Very rare were the times Bela actually cried after being turned. She cried when she first woke up in excruciating pain, with that huge wound on the side of her head. She cried later, when she felt lost, without knowing who or what she was. And she was crying now. Without Aleena, she felt lost again. She had nothing left. She no longer wished to live. A life without that girl's contagious joy, optimism and bravery was meaningless.

"Bela..." Lady Dimitrescu tried to touch her, comfort her somehow, but the blonde girl slapped her hand away.

"I always did everything you asked me... I always tried to be the perfect daughter for you... AND FOR WHAT?" Bela sobbed. "The only thing I ever ask you, you denied me. You took Aleena from me. You chose Miranda over your own daughter!"

"I had no choice, daughter! She'd turn against us if I refused to give her Aleena. Who knows what she'd be capable of doing?"

"She's doing it anyways. She's going to kill us all now she's gotten what she wanted."

She started to walk away. She had to be alone. As far away as possible from that woman, from that family, from that stupid castle. That small bed & breakfast at the village seemed like a good option.

"Daughter, wait," Alcina went after her, as she entered her bedroom.

"Don't you ever call me daughter again, Lady Dimitrescu," Bela angered. "I'm not your daughter. You kidnapped, killed me and turned me into a monster. Who knows what you've done to my real parents. We're not your daughters, we're only your toys, your dolls. You're not that different from your sister, Donna, after all."

She slammed the door and locked it. The bedroom was still the same way they left in the previous night. The candles, the flowers, the discs... Aleena's perfume was still on her pillows. Bela threw herself on the bed, holding the pillow against her body as she cried uncontrollably.

This was all her fault. They should've finished reading the diaries earlier and found out the truth before Miranda's visit, but she distracted Aleena, wishing to spend as much time with her as possible before she left to California. She should've been there to protect her, she promised it. She shouldn't have trusted the woman she used to call 'mother'. She was an idiot and now, Aleena was gone. Forever.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Memories. Only a few days earlier Bela was afraid memories would be everything she'd have left from Aleena and now, it really was. Without anybody noticing, she went to the guest room the girl had been staying during those weeks in the castle. She obviously wasn't there, but traits of her presence were still all around.

Her clothes were still in the closet. Some where lying on the armchair or even around the floor. Bela grabbed one of her t-shirts, one from Aleena's favorite TV show. It still had her perfume on it.

"I miss you, love," she inhaled deeply the sweet fragrance. "So much it's killing me."

Then, she took the sketch book from the desk. Aleena was the most talented artist Bela had ever met. Her sister, Daniela, was a good artist, but she wasn't so creative, so expressive and precise on her traces. Bela had many classes with Lady Dimitrescu, and though she could paint decently, it wasn't her strong suit.

The drawing was still there. The one Aleena where was drawing her face. The reason why they kissed that night in the library, when she said Bela was worth being remembered.

"And now I'm the one who have nothing to remind me of you, Aleena. Remind me of every detail of your perfect green eyes, your smooth brown hair and those sweet freckles all over your body."

Her cell phone was still inside the bedside table's drawer. Bela turned it on. Aleena had set a picture of them together as her lockscreen. She smiled. In the gallery, she found many and many pictures of all the days they spent together, since the lunch Bela threw on her birthday when she arrived.

There were videos too and as soon Bela heard Aleena's voice, she couldn't help but start crying again. Why did her mother betrayed her like that? She could've helped her to save Aleena. She could've helped them to take down Miranda. That was what a real mother was supposed to do!

"Hey," she rolled her eyes, noticing she had forgotten to lock the door again. Cassandra was standing right behind her. "I'm came here to check on you."

"Leave me alone, Cassandra," Bela angered. "You didn't even like her."

"This isn't true. Aleena wasn't my favorite person in the world, not that I have one by the way, but still... I didn't want her to die."

Bela ignored her. Cassandra didn't have maturity enough to understand how she was feeling. Sometimes she wondered if her sister was even able to feel empathy for another being. But then, she was surprised by her next move.

"I'm sorry," her middle sister touched her shoulder slightly, tenderly. "I know she made you happy. Deep down, I was rooting for you both."

She forced a small smile before pulling her sister for an embrace. It was probably the first time they exchanged such a genuine moment of affection.

"We'll make her pay," Cassandra stroked her hair. "Let's kill Bitch Miranda."

The three sisters gathered together in the library. Lady Dimitrescu couldn't be aware of their plans. Daniela revealed her sisters she once heard about a dagger their mother possessed, one that was able to kill any monsters and demons.

"Are you sure about this?" Bela asked to confirm. Daniela had a creative and delusional mind after all.

"Yes," her youngest sister said. "I stole one of her diaries once. She was reporting everything about this dagger, except for its location."

"Then I'll keep her distracted while you search for it," Cassandra suggested. "I'll pretend to help her with her party for Miranda's daughter rebirth."

"What about me?" Bela wanted to know.

"You're not okay, sister. Let us handle this. Save your strength for when we stab the bitch and end her for good."

"As long as you let me do the honors, it's fine by me."

That was it. Bela would pretend to be alright. She would pretend to forgive her mother. And when the time came, she'd get her revenge against Miranda.

But then... there was nothing left for her in this world. With Aleena gone, she lost her only chance of living a new and normal life. She lost the only thing that made her feel happy and human. And if the dagger could kill any monsters and demons, well... it would be able to kill her too.

Still holding Aleena's shirt against her body, Bela lay on the bed and fell asleep, thinking of the moment they'd be reunited again in death. However, she had a terrible nightmare. Aleena was dying in her arms and there was nothing she could do.

She got up and drank some water. It had been hours since Daniela left the room to search for the dagger. She wondered if something had gone wrong. Lady Dimitrescu would never agree with that plan. She was about to leave the bedroom when the red haired girl entered the room so excited she could barely breathe.

"Bela..." she panted, "I found her!"

"The dagger?!" Bela asked. "Where is it?"

"No! Aleena. She's alive in the dungeons!"

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Dungeons - Present Days

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. The environment around me was different from everywhere I had been in the last few weeks, the air was humid but still suffocating. It also smelled terribly, like rotting flesh and blood. I tried to stand up but my leg was still badly injured. I wondered how long it'd take for the amulet to heal my body again. Maybe it only worked once. Or maybe it had to do with the fluid Cassandra injected on me before she threw me inside that nasty cell.

Speaking of Bela's sister, I was pissed. Truly pissed. It was no secret she never liked me, but I never thought she'd be able to betray her own sister like that. Telling Bela to go to their mother's office only to bring me to the dungeons was a low blow, even for her. And there was Mrs. Volkov too. I couldn't believe she was dead.

"H-Help... somebody help me..."

I tried to scream but the blood loss and the drug made me too weak. I had to find a way out. A way to regain my forces and escape that place.

It didn't take long for me to lose my conscience again. As much as I attempted to stay awake and hear any signals someone could be around, I just couldn't. I was trapped in that endless cycle of waking up for a few minutes, moan in pain and passing out again. That was it. The Mother Miranda bitch was certainly behind it. When the right moment came, she'd come and take me for the ritual. Drugged as I was, I wouldn't be able to fight it.

"Aleena!" I heard Bela's voice, approaching. Maybe it was just another hallucination. "Oh my god!"

The cell's door opened, allowing some light to enter. I was able to distinguish my girlfriend's beautiful face among all that darkness.

"It's okay, love. You'll be okay, I promise you."

I forced a small smile as she placed my head on her lap. Using a blade, she opened a small gash on her wrist and forced it into my mouth.

"Drink it," Bela ordered. "My blood is going to heal your wounds and the drug effects."

I felt my stomach twisting from the metallic taste of blood going down my throat. I definitely wasn't born to be a vampire. For a second, I thought I was going to throw up.

"Shhhh," she held me still as the nausea struck. "Just breathe. Hold it down and you'll be okay."

I did as she told. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea was slowly going away. Bela started to caress my face and I felt as some warm tears dropped on my forehead.

"Hey, I'm just a little beaten up," I assured her. "But I'm starting to feel better."

"I... I thought you were dead. My mother told me you were dead."

Why would Lady Dimitrescu do such a thing? Of course, she needed to make sure Bela wouldn't ruin Miranda's plans. She needed to convince her to not search for me.

I was already strong enough to sit. I hugged Bela very very tightly. She was sobbing desperately. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest, it seemed like it'd explode at any moment.

"I'm so sorry," I kissed her forehead. "I'm here and I'm not leaving you ever again. I promise."

"You're the vessel, Aleena," Bela told me. "Your body is immune to the attacks of any creatures in the village. And now Miranda wants to use you to bring her daughter back to life. She believes your body is going to accept the mutation."

She also told me about my amulet. Miranda was the one to sell it to Auryk. I immediately ripped it off from my neck.

"I knew about being the vessel. I discovered it right after you left the bedroom. My father knew it and Auryk did too, this is why he wanted to get me out of the country so badly."

Bela wasn't listening to me. She was still staring at my face in disbelief, her eyes glistening with tears from the relief of finding out I was still alive. She cupped my face between her hands and pressed her lips on mine multiple times.

"I'm going to fix this," she was still crying. "I promise you. We have a plan to kill Miranda. There's a dagger hidden here in the castle, it can kill any monsters or demons. Daniela is searching for it, while Cassandra is distracting my m-," she hesitated to say that word, "my mother."

"Okay, but Cassandra was the one to kill Mrs. Volkov to capture me. We can't trust her at all!"

Of course. The bitch had more tricks I wasn't even aware of. She could shapeshift. Now I finally knew how my father was probably killed or how Auryk obtained that amulet from her. It was also obvious who attacked the castle that morning, Miranda was willing to test my healing properties again.

"She didn't. Mother Miranda can shapeshift into any person, this is why we need to be careful. We have this safe word, to know we're the actual Dimitrescu sisters. It's 'blowfly'."

I sighed and attempted to break the tension.

"And how do you know I'm the real Aleena?" I smiled.

"Trust me, love. I know," Bela kissed me, slowly and passionate. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this. Imagine how disgusting it would be to kiss that crazy bitch."

We both broke into laughs. Then, she took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"We need to get you out of here. My mother can't know I've found you. Miranda is coming to pick you up at midnight for the ritual."

Through the secret passages we made to the stables, where Bela had already left my bags and a horse prepared to take me to the village.

"Once you get there," she told me. "Just drive as far as you can. Go to the city, find your brother and fly to United States."

And then I realized.

"But Bela... what about you?"

"I'm staying here, love. I'm going to kill Miranda, together with my sisters and Heisenberg."

"And then you'll meet me there, right?!" I raised my voice, fighting hard against the tears that insisted falling down. "You'll go to California."

She was in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words, but I already knew what she wanted to say. First, she handed me my cell phone.

"You said you wanted something to remember. Now you have plenty of pictures of me in this device of yours."

"Bela... what are you saying?"

"Let's be honest, Aleena," she looked down. "It was never a possibility and you knew it. We'd have to stop at the first temperature drop we came across. We probably wouldn't even make it to the airport."

"I said I'm going to find a way! It's Summer, dammit. It's not so cold away from the mountains and once we arrive in California, it'll be even hotter."

"You know your world would never accept me, love. Look at me, I have this nasty scar, this weird tattoo, I need to drink human blood to live..."

"STOP MAKING EXCUSES TO BREAK UP WITH ME! I'LL FIND A WAY! FOR ALL OF THIS. IF THEY CAN'T ACCEPT YOU, THEN FUCK THEM! I LOVE YOU AND IT'S ALL THAT MATTERS."

"I love you too," Bela kissed my forehead. "And this is why I'm letting you go."

"Even if I go, Bela," I argued, punching her shoulder slightly, "it doesn't have to end! I'm going to call you. I'm going to write you. And I'll come here to visit you too."

"In the first few weeks, love. Then, you'll become too busy to write. Our phone calls will become shorter because you'll be too tired. You'll disappear for a few days. We'll start to fade, little by little. And finally someday, you'll meet somebody new. Somebody who can make you laugh and distract you from your tragic past. Somebody who can take you to an actual date. Somebody you can introduce to your family and friends. Somebody who actually deserves you. Who can give you a future with marriage and children. Because she isn't dead. Because she isn't... me."

"I don't want any of this! I want you and only you. This future? We can have it! Here in this fucking castle or in my old small house. I don't care if I have to serve tables for the rest of my life, as long as I have you."

"You deserve a lot more than that."

"And so do you. What are you going to do, huh? To keep playing house with the woman who killed and turned you into a vampire? Serving her every wish and pretending you love this life? Or sleep with a different servant every week to hide the fact you're completely lonely and miserable?"

"Yes, Aleena. It has been this way for six decades now and it's not going to change. I have no choice, I'm sorry."

She vanished into a swarm of flies and disappeared, leaving me completely alone in the stables. I fell on my knees again, sobbing and screaming my lungs out.

"Bela, come back here!" I cried. "I love you! Please... come back..."

I still waited for a few minutes, but as I knew and as Mrs. Volkov always warned me, when Bela made a decision nothing would change her mind. Not even her mother or her sisters. Not even me.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Bela's Room - Present Days

"I'm hungry," Cassandra complained from the couch. "Pretty please... I'm helping you with the secret mission. A scrambled egg is enough."

"Tell Lady Dimitrescu to cook," Bela remained unmoved on her bed, staring at the ceiling while wearing Aleena's jacket. The one she borrowed her when the castle was attacked. It was the only memory she'd have from the woman she loved. "She was the one to kill all the servants."

Bela was listening to an old love song from the 60's. It was the one thing she was actually capable of doing in that moment. She couldn't even manage to create different scenarios about how she could kill Miranda inside her mind, or even wander around the castle searching for the cursed knife.

She knew Aleena had safely arrived in her house at the village. She sent one of her flies to follow her and observe her for how long it was possible. The girl was completely devastated, heartbroken and it killed her to see that. She could she glimpses of the moments where she sobbed while packing her bags and taking them to her old truck. But it was the best for both of them. She'd never be safe by Bela's side. Especially while Miranda was still around.

"This music is making me nauseous," Cassandra went to the disc player and turned it off. "You should've gone with her then."

"It was the safest for her. Mother would come after me immediately and take her back to Miranda's claws."

The brunette sister went to her own bedroom and returned with a book in hands, what surprised Bela because Cassandra wasn't much of a reader.

"Check this out. I asked the Duke to get you the sequel," and she started to read, adopting the same dramatic tone as usual. "As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worried — late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses — that it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live — I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Bela rolled her eyes. Deep down she absorbed those words. She feared someday she'd forget all those small details about Aleena too, but knowing she existed someday, and that she loved her back, was enough for her to be able to live for the rest of her immortal days. "Next time, get us something useful. Like that fucking dagger."

The door opened and Daniela walked inside, pushing a food cart.

"I brought us dinner," she announced.

"Did you kidnap a villager to cook for us?" Cassandra asked, immediately grabbing a plate.

"Of course not! I cooked it myself. If Bela can do it, I can too."

The two eldest sisters exchanged a suspicious glance, before deciding they were not so hungry after all.

"And here is the main dish..." Daniela said, lifting the lid and revealing the content inside the silver pan. "A poisonous dagger."

"You did it!" Bela exclaimed, surprised and proud.

"Yes! Let's chop that bitch to pieces."

Daniela hugged her eldest sister again. It was happening too often lately, for Bela's discomfort. But this time, she accepted the hug.

"Where's mom?" Cassandra interrupted the moment. "I haven't heard from her since I left her alone in her bedroom."

The castle was way too quiet. It wasn't the first time the servants had to be gotten rid of and they were completely by themselves. Or maybe sometimes, Lady Dimitrescu would lock herself in the Opera House to play the piano or even read a book alone in her bedroom, but that wasn't the case this time. That was a different kind of silence. A silence that indicated danger, a threat.

"Mother?!" Cassandra called, followed by her two sisters. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. They were about to reach the library when the power went out, as well as the heating system. A wave of panic instantly spread over Bela's body. She feared the cold, more than anything.

"What the hell?!" Daniela yelled. "Who's there? I'm starving and angry, so don't mess with me!"

"Shhhh," Bela silenced her. She had a feeling, a hunch about who could it be. As they approached the office, her suspicions were confirmed by the argument coming from inside the room.

"Where is she, Alcina?!" They heard Miranda yelling. "You promised me to keep her safe!"

"Mother, I swear... she was in the dungeons! There was no way she could escape. The drug was supposed to keep her down until now."

"Your daughters... they must've helped her to escape. Decades trying to find the perfect vessel and they ruined it all. They'll deal with the consequences!"

"Mother, no! Don't hurt them, I'm begging you."

In that moment, the sisters witnessed as a powerful flock of birds started to fly around the caste, shattering all the windows. As the cold air of the night in the mountains filled the entire place, the three sisters knew their ending was imminent.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

The tears blurred my vision as I followed my way back to the village. Sometimes, I'd stop for a minute, hoping Bela would change her mind and come after me. Why would she assume I was safer without her? If there was someone who could protect me, that was she.

As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the garage, getting my old truck to come back to life. Then, I followed to my bedroom to pack my bags. There wasn't much I actually needed to take, mostly my clothes, my laptop and a few other important belongings. I didn't plan to sell the house anyways. I could come back and take the rest later, if I had to.

My books. I would definitely take at least my favorites. Most of them were gifts from my mom. I couldn't leave those precious treasures behind. As I grabbed one of them to place it inside of my luggage, a small piece of paper fell on the floor:

'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom'.

I recognized it. It was an excerpt of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. Bela should've left it there when she was alone in my bedroom. In the end, she wrote: 'Please, think of me sometimes. I love you, forever'.

Of course I would. There was no way I'd ever stop loving that girl, or even forgetting about her at all. I could never forget about the girl who threw me the sweetest birthday party or made me the best pancakes in the world. And especially, the first girl I ever loved. I pressed the note against my chest, letting out a few tears. I placed it among my belongings, those I was going to take with me to California.

I heard the front door opening and I immediately grabbed my rifle and my blades too. Something had to at least cause some harm to that bitch. I was slowly going down the stairs in an attack position, when I heard a voice.

"Leena? Are you home?" That was my twin brother, Auryk. "I'm back."

"Auryk," I finally revealed myself. My first impulse was running to his arms, before I remembered all the lies and the betrayal. "You knew it. You fucking knew it and you hid it from me!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to keep you safe from Miranda. I planned to get you out of here before it all came to surface, but that bitch was already one step ahead."

"We have to go, right now. She's coming after me. I just escaped Castle Dimitrescu."

"Leena, no..." he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought I was clear when I asked you to stay in the castle until I returned."

"Auryk, she drugged me and locked me in the dungeons!" I yelled. "She was going to sacrifice me in a sick ritual tonight. Which part haven't you understand yet?"

"This was the plan, Aleena. When she was vulnerable, during the ritual, the agency would take the opportunity to explode this place and all these freaks."

"WHAT?! What about the village... and the people, their houses? What about ME?! What if I got killed in this process?"

"They're going to evacuate the village in a couple of hours," he explained. "And then, they'll help them to rebuild their lives or something... I don't know for sure. But they would protect us."

"Stop them!" I ordered. I couldn't let them hurt Bela or her sisters. Or even put the villagers in danger. Some of them, such as Olga, Elena and her father would never abandon that place and its traditions. "Right now! You're not going to hurt them. You won't!"

"Aleena, what the fuck? They're monsters! They're going to kill you!"

And then, I did the first thing that came to my mind. It was stupid, unplanned and completely reckless. I knocked my brother's head with the rifle. As soon as he fell unconscious on the floor, I tied him up and locked him inside Adrian's secret storage.

"I'm sorry, Auryk. But I must save my girlfriend."

#resident evil village #residesnt evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x f!oc #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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bobgoesw00t · 2 years

Note

every woman in every video game is transgender

I’m gonna ignore this as the last thing I want to do is piss people off for saying something they might not like/don’t want to hear. While I’m thinking about it, if your thinking about sending me this type of thing, PLEASE don’t. Not only will I totally ignore it, but this is NOT what my blog here on tumblr is about. I’m a 29-year-old gay man who is out to my entire family, I have a cousin who is lesbian, my best friend is trans and my grandmother who died last year (not from COVID) was a stalwart defender of us. When she was at dinner at her retirement home/village/senior living place, she heard some lady talking smack about the LGBT community and told her to STFU has two of her grandkids were gay. She didn’t ACTUALLY curse (I never did here her curse l…or see her drunk which I wish I could have cause I think it would have been funny) but that’s not the point. OH, also forgot to mention my best friend has a twin that identifies as non-binary AND one of my childhood friends (who I haven’t seen in a LONG time) is also gay. My blog is a totally safe space for LGBT+ people and if you want to try and make me say some stupid shit that goes against that, fuck off and go bug someone else please :3

#i’m not gonna say anything #i’m gay #my best friend is trans #my cousin is lesbian #my other friend is non-binary #my blog is lgbt+ safe

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