#but sadly that also meant having to be subjected to Van | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lyon-amore · 1 year

Text

The half of me Chapter 6

Chapter 5 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

----A year ago----

Jessy Tell me, do you text to this hacker person? 🤔

MC Every now and then, why?

Jessy He is creepy

MC He is... different

Jessy Do you mean that in a good or bad way?

MC Good way

Jessy 🤔 But don't get me wrong, I don't think he is behind the kidnapping He would put himself in too much danger by talking to us

MC But that also helps him get to a lot of information ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC did not know what to think of that hacker. She was torn between whether or not to trust him, was it perhaps because he had told her that he trusted her? That Jessy wasn't the only person she'd connected with? No one had ever told her before that they trusted her, only her sister. That someone else did it was something new.

And, strange as it seemed, she still didn't know that the two of them had to do all this. "Should I trust him?" She asked herself, looking at the conversation with the anonymous "Since he trusts me, I think it would be the right thing to trust him..." She put the phone aside, looking at it nervously, remembering the threat she had also received. Could it have been him? Did he want to scare her? Was he someone with multiple personalities? She sighed, shaking her head. He was looking for a kidnapped girl. Why would he do that to her? "He's not Krebs" MC murmured, tugging at the cuff of her shirt ", he's not a monster...is he not?"

----Present----

She put the computer in a box with clothes that she was going to take to her house when Elliot left. She prevented any of her friends from seeing it. First, she had to know what it was that Daliah was worrying about to shut down her computer like that. "Is everything saved?" she heard Jessy ask, hopefully she didn't get to see how she put away the laptop. "Yes" answered the brunette, getting up from her chair ". I'll take this one, it was clothes that Daliah was going to give me when she got tired of it" she replied a little hurt. If her sister wanted her to keep some of her clothes, then she would do it ". The rest I might sell..." "You could sell it in the store" she approached to take one of the boxes, smiling at her "Weren't you going to open one? Maybe to start-" "Let's just say...the opening is going to have to wait" she said quickly, remembering that she had vandalized the store ". But yeah, I might sell what she didn't like." They left with the rest, leaving some boxes on the kitchen table, looking at them. MC was holding her box, hse didn't want to mix it so as not to confuse it. "There's still a lot to pick up..." Cleo sighed, looking at how the kitchen was already empty. "The living room has become a bit empty..." Lilly commented sadly. "Cheer up girls" Dan looked at them, keeping their strength in him ", the sooner we finish the better." "Give us a minute, please..." Jessy replied, looking at MC, who didn't take her eyes off the boxes. Putting Daliah's things in a box meant that she was never coming back. It was true that she had buried her. That she wasn't going to hear her voice anymore. It would take her a while to admit it, but it was already a fact that Daliah's life had vanished forever.

They put the boxes in a van, driving to a warehouse to store their things. One by one, they stacked the boxes as best they could. There were children's books and toys from when they were little. They parents had saved it for their future grandchildren. She remembered Daliah always ignoring the subject. She never explained why. "And here's the last box." Grace said, leaving the box where she put 'Figurines' on top of her clothes "Or are there any more?" "No" answered MC quickly ", the one I have is for me." "Okay." "This is depressing." Phil commented, looking at the boxes. All eyes were directed at him, as if they were glaring at him. The young man looked at them, confused. "I didn't say it in a bad way" He rolled his eyes, seeing how everyone was exaggerating with him, or rather, it was what he thought ". I don't think I've ever had to save the things of a person who died young, that's all... I guess it makes you think a lot." MC hugged herself, listening to his words. She knew she was going to be next, just as she had been sent in that letter or in her sister's body. She hoped the police would find out who Daliah's killer is before going after her.

She walked over to Lilly, who still had the same tired eyes as hers. Since that morning, the blonde was still trying to find out what was happening to the brunette "Do you think you can come to my house?" MC asked her friend, making sure the others didn't ask why. "Sure, but what's wrong, MC?" Lilly crossed her arms, worried "You've been weird all day." "Not here, just walk me home, okay?" The young woman whispered, as if she was doing something wrong. "Ready to go back to the hostel, Lilly?" Cleo asked, moving closer to them. Lilly looked at MC and then at her. She shook her head, letting out a sigh. "I'll go to MC's house" she replied, putting on a pitying voice ". I'll spend the night at his house, if Dan is okay with me taking his round..." "Sure" Dan walked up to them, hugging the two girls ". See you tomorrow girls, but no staying up late, okay?" They both let out a laugh. He sounded like a father talking to his daughters. "Hey, if you need anything" Grace walked over, taking the young MC's hands. Her eyes shone, as if she was going to cry "you know that Carter and I will support you, he has sent me a message saying that if you want, he will give you his number to talk to him to vent." "Thank you, Grace" MC hugged the brown-eyed brunette tightly. Having Daliah's friends for support made her sister close to her ". I'll talk to him when I can." "Okay" she took a deep breath, slowly pulling away from her ". And I'm so sorry, MC... Daliah was like a sister to me too." she started to cry, putting her hand to her face, trying to avoid sobbing. It hurt her MC to see her like that. She knew that Grace had also been Daliah's support when they went to high school together. Both were the most well-known in town, the ones that made it shine. Now the town had lost a star.

They said their goodbyes and MC and Lilly got into the car. She first checked that they were alone, that the police car was far away. She took a long breath before speaking. "Lilly, do you still have Jake's chat?" "Yes, of course." Lilly replied confused, as she put on the seatbelt "What's wrong? Has something happened?" "I need you to delete it." The blonde blinked in confusion. Little by little, her face changed. She felt her anger run through her body. "Is that why you wanted to talk to me?" Lilly raised her voice, annoyed "So I can delete my brother's chat?" "Lilly" MC looked straight into her eyes, determined. She had changed a lot since last year, she was a little less shy, but maybe it was because she was confident with her ", you'll know when we get to my house, but please, delete that chat" she started the car, running her tongue over her lips. "Why? Have you been hacked again?" Each time, her friend was more nervous "But what about the Nymos program? Doesn't it protect you?" "Yes, it does protect me, but..." How can she tell her now? She didn't feel safe being in the car explaining it to him "Please...Trust me, I'm not telling you this because I'm mad at Jake if that's what you think" she replied with a pleading voice, hoping that at least that would convince her ". I promise that everything will be known when we have arrived at my house." "You sound like him..." Lilly chuckled. "Okay, I'll trust you." Lilly picked up her phone, looking for Jake's chat. All of her messages had come up as an error, as if there was no signal where Jake was. But she knew perfectly well that it was because it no longer existed. Inside her, she already knew that this chat had already stopped working. She deleted the chat, with a small sob. She really trusted that there was a good explanation for what MC was asking of her.

They entered the apartment and MC left the box on the small dining room table, taking Daliah's computer out of it. "Did you take it out of your sister's room?" Lilly asked, raising an eyebrow. "I can't get into it" explained MC, trying again to enter different passwords ", and coming from someone who knew perfectly all the passwords of her sister, I can say that it's strange..." "You should leave it to the police." Lilly advised, sitting in a chair. "No, I have something better..." MC took out her phone, going to the second chat she had, Nymos. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC Jake? I have something that may interest us for the investigation of Daliah.

----Nym-0s has connected----

Nym-0s Hello MC. What is it?

MC Well First I want to tell you something Lilly is in my house

Nym-0s Lilly? Wait. You want me to speak to her, right?

MC It's your sister Jake... She has been worried about you for a year 🙁

Nym-0s I didn't say I don't want to talk to her :) Fine, so you call?

MC I think is better... Better do it yourself She sure likes the surprise 🙂

Nym-0s Alright.

MC OH! And Could you... I don't know... Don't use the voice modulator?

Nym-0s It's because both Hannah and you have spoken to me in my real voice and you feel bad at it, right?

MC It seems that someone is already learning to detect emotions through messages 🤔

Nym-0s I have practiced a lot during our investigations ;) Although for now, it only applies to you.

MC 🙂 So... Please?

Nym-0s Of course. I call now.

MC Thank you 😊 Take your time

Nym-0s Thank you. :) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lilly was looking at MC curiously. She could see on her face a smile that she had never seen from her. She refrained from asking in case she was private. "Good..." The young brunette placed the cell phone on the table, waiting for the call. She knew that it was difficult for Jake. She had never talked to Lilly for this long except for research. She wanted him to brace himself. On the other hand, the blonde rolled her eyes, tired of waiting. "MC, look, I get it, all of this has affected you a lot-" "Just wait" MC made a sign with her hands, so that she would be calm ", I promise that everything will be fine." Her friend sighed, crossing her arms in anticipation.

The phone started ringing. On the screen, it could be read that Nymos was the one who was calling. "But-" "Answer." MC encouraged, with a smile of emotion. Lilly, not trusting what was going on, accepted the call by speakerphone. She looked at MC and then at her phone, hoping it wasn't because they were both starting to go crazy. "Hello?" she asked, a little fearful. "Hi Lilly." She didn't know that voice. It didn't ring a bell. She looked at MC and she nodded, as if she was telling her that it was him. Lilly began to cry, placing a hand on her chest. "Are you Jake?" she asked, a little pitch voice. "Yes." the young man on the other end of the line replied calmly "How are you, Lilly?" "Oh my God..." She felt like she was little again and it was Christmas day. A year without hearing from her older brother made that moment worth it "But when?! When did you come back?!" "Last night, I got in touch with MC." "I'll leave you alone to talk" said the brunette, taking the box ", I'm going to put this away." "MC, what was it that you wanted to tell me?" Jake asked, curious. "First talk, I tell you later." "Alright." "Jake! You don't know how excited he was to talk to you again!" Lilly exclaimed excitedly. MC left the room, to go to her room to put away the dresses that she had collected.

First she left them in bed, watching them. She remembered when Daliah had put them on. One of them was on their birthday. Her sister insisted that she wear it, but she couldn't do it when she saw that it looked beautiful on her. She picked it up and looked at herself in the mirror. Completely white. Without a stain. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking of trying it on for her. Would it be dishonoring her memory if she didn't? Or maybe she would have liked her? She sighed and began to undress, wanting to see how that dress of hers would look on her. In the meantime, she could hear Lilly's laughter, glad to talk to her brother again. A wave of jealousy ran through her body. She was envious knowing that she was talking to her brother. Knowing that he was alive. She wiped away the small tears that had fallen on her cheeks. She shouldn't be envious. She had to be happy because she had managed to get them in touch. She focused on her in that moment, on what Daliah would say when she saw her in that dress of hers. She ran her hand over the delicate fabric while she looked at herself in the mirror. Perhaps it was because in her head was the image of her sister, but she felt that it suited her perfectly. Almost made to measure. "MC, I told Jake-" Lilly's voice came from the doorway. The young brunette turned and saw her friend with the phone in her hand. She stared at her surprised to see her in her dress. "My God..." Lilly started to say, approaching her "MC! You look beautiful!" The blonde exclaimed "Jake! You would have to see her! I has never seen you like this before!" "Nah..." answered MC, a little shy. Knowing that she had brought her phone with her, she was even more embarrassed " Besides, I was going to take it from me now- " "Wait a minute" Lilly stopped her, holding up her hand. MC sighed, crossing her arms ". Jake, is this chat really safe?" "Yes, why do you ask?" "Because you have to see it." Lilly held the phone upright, smiling mischievously. "Lilly no!" exclaimed MC with a red face, approaching her "Give me my phone!" "No! He has to see you like this!" "Girls... can we focus on what is important?" They heard Jake sigh. They both looked at each other and nodded, leaving the room. MC didn't want to admit it, but it was a moment that she reminded her and her sister. Those little moments were what made her feel her still. She didn't want them to ever disappear.

They returned to the dining room, where the computer continued with its screen for entering the password. The two girls stared at the screen, focused. "Okay, tell me what is going on." Jake said, his voice serious. "I've tried to access Daliah's computer, but none of her possible passwords have worked" MC began to explain, without taking her eyes off the computer. "Did you know all her passwords?" "Daliah and I knew each other's passwords and phone PINs..." "And for some reason, that computer has a password that you do not know." "I think there's something in it that she didn't want us to see..." "What could Daliah hide?" Lilly asked, looking at MC and the phone, as if she was seeing Jake "she was a girl who didn't keep anything back, she loved to say everything she thought. "Until months ago..." MC lowered her gaze, remembering the clippings and the horse doll. A truly creepy doll, because since the day of the kidnapping Daliah, she avoided anything that was related to horses. An innocent animal has marked her for years. "I was wondering if you could unlock it for me" the brunette asked, her voice awkward "I know that... I know that I told you that I didn't want to know more, but something has happened." "What happened, MC?" Jake's question sounded as if he was nervous. That intonation made Lilly smile with amusement. "Daliah... Apparently she had clippings of the kidnappings of the children" MC trembled as she told him, hugging herself ", so, I was wondering if the computer contains anything about those clippings..." "I am really sorry, we will try to find an explanation for all this then." Jake's words were sincere. So sincere, that she would have liked him to be in front of her to tell her ". Lilly." "Yes?" Her sister answered right away, sitting up in her chair. "When do you return to Duskwood?" "Tomorrow I'll leave by the two o'clock train" she looked confused at the phone ", why?" "I want you to put the computer in a backpack" Jake began to explaining "and at the first stop, get off and leave it under a bench, I will send someone I trust to get it." "Do you want her to get off at Evergreed?" MC asked, worried "it's the worst town that exists. If you leave the computer there, it will disappear in a few seconds!" Jake let out a laugh, although for the girls, they didn't see it funny. The town of Evergreed was known for having high crime and drug sales. Clearly not all of Evergreed was like that, but they notoriety had made them go down in history. "Do not worry, I am telling my trusted person right now" they heard how they began to type on the computer ", he owes me a favor, so he will surely help me with this." "Thank you Jake..." MC whispered, smiling a little. "Do not give it to me yet, I do not know how long it will take me to unlock it" the young hacker answered, finishing writing ". If you yourself have tried it and you know her better than anyone, then it will take time for the program to do its job and unlock it." "How long does it usually take?" asked Lilly curiously. "Well, in the best case that the computer is intact, at most, half an hour or so." They heard him sigh. The bad news "At worst... Let is just say that I would have to agree to force and what it would imply-" "Hack it completely." MC continued. "I do not want you to feel bad about this, MC" His soft words calmed her down. She missed those worries of his ", but if you really want to know what she was hiding, it is the only way." MC nodded, tugging at the fabric of the dress. Invading her sister's privacy wasn't what was expected, but her concern had grown. She hadn't told her anything about those clippings, and now there was a password that was totally unknown to her. "So... We would then have to access her files one by one" the brunette finally said, releasing a long sigh ". Cool then." "Let us hope that is not necessary. I would like you to have the computer back as quickly as possible" "I don't mind if it's to find out what happened..." The three of them let out a sigh. She wondered for a moment if she was doing the right thing bringing Jake into all of this, would it be dangerous? Would she get him in trouble again? This time it was not the case of a kidnapping, but a murder. And one that covered up the suicide of a serial killer.

The silence was broken by a slight sound. Lilly blushed slightly, embarrassed. "I'm sorry... That was my stomach..." the young woman apologized. "I'm hungry too" MC laughed a little "after working so hard to clean up Daliah's house, I've gotten hungry." She got up and went to the kitchen. She was embarrassed to see that she had nothing in the fridge. Those days she had barely eaten, Cleo bought everything and made it instantly, since she hadn't had the strength to do it herself "Shall we order something to eat?" "Can I suggest something?" Jake asked. His voice sounded strangely excited. "Let's see what you suggest." the brunette arched an eyebrow, curiously. "Well, I have seen that there is only one Chinese restaurant in Rosenschwarz that is fantastic." MC rolled her eyes, avoiding a laugh. She remembered that conversation. A conversation in which he gave her very little hope of dreaming for a moment. She also remembered how foolish she had been. Or, at least, that was what her sister had told her when she told her about their conversation. Why make her hope to take her out to dinner if he was never going to be rid of that burden? "Yes, of course" her smile faded, letting her arms fall to the sides of her body ", can I ask for a little..." Did he even notice how upset she was? Why had he give her those memories back? Of course he had noticed that she was angry. Lilly didn't understand what exactly had gone on between them. Yes, she knew that MC was mad at Jake for just disappearing, but what was wrong with her? To her, it didn't seem like her words.

When MC left them alone again, Lilly saw that she had received a command in Nymos' chat. It seemed that Jake had gotten on her while they had been talking. She decided to call him, to test if it worked. "Testing, one two, one two." Lilly started to say, when Jake accepted the call. "Haha, you do not have to do that" Although Lilly didn't see it, Jake smiled when he heard her ", it works like a cell phone, do not worry." "Okay, understood" the blonde nodded, looking in the direction in which MC had gone, to avoid her seeing her talk about it ". Hey Jake, what happened between you and MC? Why is she mad at you?" "Well..." Jake scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. It was a relief that Lilly didn't see him at that moment, nervous "I suppose it is because I did not come back, although I have already explained why-" "No, it's not that" Lilly looked back, hesitating to continue "it's...how shall I put it? It's always been like that, one day she talks about you worried, as if she cared a lot about you" the young woman looked sadly at the computer, seeing the photo of the twins with their parents ", then it's as if... As if all those thoughts no longer mattered to her... Did you say something to her?" "To be honest, Lilly, I do not know... I can understand her annoyance, but I am also surprised by her changing mood." "It's like you." Jake gave a small laugh, followed by a sigh. "Yeah, I guess there is something she is hiding about her changes." Lilly bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't like what she was thinking at that moment. The real reason why MC was behaving in that way towards Jake. "Do you think it could be because-?" "I'm done." MC came back and looked at her frowning "Were you talking about me?" she asked when she saw that she wasn't on speakerphone. Lilly put her phone down on the table, selecting the speakerphone option. "I was just going to tell him about Hannah." She glanced quickly at her friend and then at her phone. "Did you hear it?" She asked her brother, concerned. "No, what happened?" "She's going to trial for Jennifer's accident" Lilly continued and MC sat next to her, seeing the young woman put on a sad look ", they've been collecting all the evidence that you and MC obtained, including the conversation with Amy..." Jake knew it would happen one day. Hannah had to go through the process of being judged for what she had done. At least, of the two she was the bravest, he feared for his life, but even more now that he couldn't lose something good in this world. "It was to be expected" the young man answered calmly ", we could not help it Lilly, I know you do not want her to go through this, but you cannot help it that they do not want to seek justice." "But-" "Lilly" Jake called her firmly. He made her little sister look at the phone with her eyes about to drop tears ", we know it was an accident, but what she did next... It is something that the judge will have to judge, not us." The little Donfort sibling nodded slowly. She still had a hard time believing that her sister would hide a crime that she might have confessed to back then. "I'm going to the bathroom for a moment." Lilly quickly got up from her chair. MC watched her leave. It was saddened to see her like this. Knowing that your sister did something you didn't know about and that was horrible must have been hard. It wasn't comparable to what Daliah kept from her. Lilly's pain was much stronger. "We have to give her time" Jake commented, with a note of sadness in his voice ", I had a hard time assimilating it too." MC remained silent. She wasn't supposed to meddle in other people's family matters.

She looked at the phone, trying to know what to say to comfort him, but knowing that she also needed to be comforted, she couldn't find the exact words. "I'm sure she'd like you to be with her." She finally told him sadly. "Me too..." the hacker sighed "I feel like I am failing her as her older brother right now..." "At least now she knows that she can talk to you whenever she wants." MC smiled, trying to see a positive side. "How did it go in your sister's apartment?" Jake asked worriedly. The young woman bit the inside of her cheek, she wondered if she Lilly had told him something about the next letter she had received. Was she okay with her telling him? She didn't want to worry him anymore either, but keeping it from him would make him perhaps offended for not trusting him. "They left another letter at Daliah's door" MC finally answered, a little nervous ", but it was addressed to me this time." "Then there are two possibilities" Jake said calmly, not looking angry at what had happened, ": that the stalker was watching your sister's apartment or that he is watching you." "Neither of the two options calms me down" she crossed her arms, shrugging in her chair, looking at the phone, trying to find comfort in that calm voice ", because then what good is the police protecting me?" "We must assume then that this stalker can walk without problems in front of everyone." "Jake... You're not helping me at all." "Sorry, it is just a theory, of course." The young woman slowly sat up in her chair, as if Jake's words suddenly made sense. "Could...Could this person be known to Daliah?" Jake was going to answer when there was a knock at the door. MC got up and both she and Lilly were already close to open the door.

They looked a little afraid. And they knew that it couldn't be Daliah's killer, no one could go to the apartment without being on the list of people not suspected. Like the group of Duskwood and her parents. She looked through the peephole and sighed, opening the door. "Good afternoon-" Elliot looked MC up and down. The young woman was still wearing Daliah's dress, she had forgotten to take it off. And that was what that young policeman was looking at: a totally different MC from what he was used to. "Elliot?" MC called him, frowning a little uncomfortable "Everything alright?" "Yes, it's just..." He shook his head, then raised a bag "I'm sorry, MC, we didn't want to let the delivery man go up in case of suspicion" he handed her the Chinese food, to which the young woman accepted, giving it to Lilly ". By the way, I thought I heard a man's voice. Is there anyone else with you?" "Actually, it's..." Lilly began nervously. MC remembered how hard it had been for her in the past to hide Jake's secret from the group, so she stepped in again to help her. "We were watching a movie" she answered quickly ", after what happened, I wanted to relax with my friend and watch a movie." "That's right" Lilly replied, more relieved ". It's a movie about..." "Mystery" answered MC, coming back to help her ". Although I don't think I need to give so many details either." The blond nodded, avoiding leaving his gaze too much on the brunette. He pointed to the stairs nervously. "After what happened, I've decided to change my shift, I'll be down below watching." "Okay." "So..." Elliot cleared his throat, looking at the young woman with a slight blush on her cheeks "Have a good time." "Thank you, Elliot." The boy nodded, walking off down the stairs.

MC shut the door and saw Lilly's smile. A cheeky smile. She didn't understand that smile or why she really did. "I'll change and we'll eat" said the blue-eyed young woman, going to the room ", I don't want to stain her dress." "MC, that guy likes you!" Lilly exclaimed loudly. "He doesn't like Lilly" MC poked her head through the doorway ", I just reminded him of Daliah, nothing more." "I don't know... he seemed very worried about you when we were at Daliah's apartment." "What guy?" They heard from the living room "Are you talking about the policeman who went there?" MC recalled that she forgot to remove the speaker. She cursed in her mind that Jake was listening to all this. "How did you guess he's a policeman?" MC came out with more comfortable clothes, approaching the table to sit next to Lilly, who was beginning to place everything on the table. "He said that he changed his shift and that he would be watching" Jake replied. Annoyance could be heard in his voice ". So, I assume he is a policeman." "He's Daliah's ex-boyfriend" answered MC, giving him great importance ". He is the son of Alan Bloomgate, Elliot." "I understand..." "Well, he may not completely like you" Lilly told her, setting the plates on the table ", but that he has feelings for you, it shows." "Elliot and I have never had a close relationship" answered the young woman, letting out a sigh ", I think it's this week that we've had more interaction than ever." "Do you think that Elliot could do something to Daliah?" Jake's question surprised MC. She never would have thought badly of Elliot before, not even after they broke up. She knew they didn't have a bad relationship, they got along well. She shook his head, remembering later that he couldn't see her. "No, Elliot isn't capable of killing Daliah, he loved her." She seemed to sound annoyed. She found Jake's question strange. "Okay, I just wanted to make sure." She knew perfectly well that he wanted to know if he was legit. The ex-boyfriend was always the first suspect, something that, even now it seemed strange to her that he was in charge of the case, they should have kept him out of the way so that his feelings did not get in the way.

Was she doing the right thing in trusting Elliot?

Chapter 7

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

18 notes · View notes

mediaevalmusereads · 11 months

Text

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma. By Bessel Van Der Kolk. Penguin, 2014.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: nonfiction, psychology, psychiatry, mental health, trauma studies

Part of a Series? No

Summary: Trauma is a fact of life. Veterans and their families deal with the painful aftermath of combat; one in five Americans has been molested; one in four grew up with alcoholics; one in three couples have engaged in physical violence. Such experiences inevitably leave traces on minds, emotions, and even on biology. Sadly, trauma sufferers frequently pass on their stress to their partners and children.

Renowned trauma expert Bessel van der Kolk has spent over three decades working with survivors. In The Body Keeps the Score, he transforms our understanding of traumatic stress, revealing how it literally rearranges the brain’s wiring—specifically areas dedicated to pleasure, engagement, control, and trust. He shows how these areas can be reactivated through innovative treatments including neurofeedback, mindfulness techniques, play, yoga, and other therapies. Based on Dr. van der Kolk’s own research and that of other leading specialists, The Body Keeps the Score offers proven alternatives to drugs and talk therapy—and a way to reclaim lives.

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: discussions (including graphic descriptions) of war, violence, murder, abuse, rape, self-harm, suicide

Since this book is non-fiction, my review will be structured a little differently than usual.

Full disclosure: I didn’t research the author before deciding to read this book. I am now aware of the controversy that resulted in his firing, as well as the allegations that the executive director at his trauma center was particularly hostile to female employees. My favorable review of this book is in no way an endorsement of the author’s actions, and I am still wrestling with how to handle good work (that is meant to help people and advance our understanding of mental health) created by problematic (and allegedly abusive) people.

Review: I picked this book up on a whim while browsing at a local independent bookstore, but I also do have a personal interest in the subject; one of my family members has some trauma in his past, and I was interested in learning more about how trauma works. As an educational tool, this book looked promising; not only is it incredibly thorough, but it explores multiple approaches to trauma (rather than championing just one). As a began reading, I found myself more and more engrossed in the book's contents, and I believe it is because the information is so well-presented. In particular, I liked the way the author explained complex scientific concepts without talking down to the reader. As a former academic, I often get frustrated with pop science for oversimplifying, and this book felt like it was respecting my intelligence. Although I have no background in neuroscience or psychology, I felt like the author trusted me to grasp the basics without coming across as impatient or belittling. For that reason more than any other, I think I got a lot out of this book.

I also appreciated the scope of this book. The Body Keeps the Score I'd comprised of 20 chapters organized into 5 parts. Part 1 talks about the history of trauma studies and treatment; part 2 overviews what happens in the brain of a traumatized individual; part 3 looks at child development and trauma; part 4 looks at how trauma affects memory; and part 5 explores paths to recovery. Though I am sure the author left some things out, this book felt like a comprehensive introduction and overview to trauma studies, and I appreciated having so much information in one place. Given that this book was published in 2014, I'm sure that psychology and neuroscience has made large strides, so it should be noted that some information may be dated. But even so, this book is a fascinating snapshot of the evolution of our understanding of trauma and its treatment.

All that being said, I do have a few criticisms which prevent me from giving this book a full 5 stars. The first is that there are some moments in this book where a reader might forget that the author is writing as an academic and not an activist or advocate; ordinarily, I don't think that would be a problem, but for casual readers, the author's tone or failure to condemn horrific acts committed by his patients may come across as callous. I also think there are bits in this book that can be repetitive; as a reader, I found that I would read the same point in multiple chapters, and I think the author could have streamlined his message just a bit more. I also think the constant deferral of information to later chapters can be a tad chaotic, and for some people, not having information strictly organized can be frustrating.

Still, I think this book is a valuable overview to trauma and mental health, and while I wouldn't recommend it to people who may still be triggered by graphic depictions of violence, assault, etc. I would recommend it to people looking to understand trauma from a scientific perspective.

12 notes · View notes

threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

So Give Me Hope In The Darkness

Dukeceit Week Day 4: Free Day

Janus comes to him scared and broken. And there is nothing Remus wouldn’t do to help him.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 8855

Warnings: violence, dehumanization/people as test subjects, implied past abuse.

@dukeceitweek <3

“Remus, the transport’s here. You ready?”

Remus looked up from where he had been meticulously finishing the last fold on the absolute best paper airplane he had ever made in his life. “The what?”

Roman, leaning against the doorframe of Remus’ office, sighed deeply. “For the love of all things Disney and musical theatre, Remus, check your e-mail on a regular basis.”

Remus glanced at his desk. His laptop sat half-buried in crumpled up reject airplanes, the screen dark, so he slipped his phone from his pocket to check his e-mail with instead and… oops. One official work order, sent over 40 minutes ago, and three more messages from Virgil that all read somewhere along the lines of “Jesus Christ Remus respond to this so we know you read it.” Which, of course, he hadn’t.

“Uh…” Remus said helplessly. Roman scrubbed a hand down his face, then motioned for Remus to follow as he stepped back out into the hallway. Remus scrambled after him.

“I’ll fill you in, but we need to hurry,” Roman said.

“The hell do they need me for? Wasn’t it just another one of those underground lab bullshit raids? Those always turn up fucking zilch.”

“Not this one,” Roman replied and, well, shit. Now Remus was interested enough to shut up and let his brother talk. “They actually found, like, the real headquarters. Evil scientists and all.”

“Fuck yeah, good for them. Logan and Virgil have been working themselves to the bone...r. But why do they need me?”

Roman gave him a look. It was his it’s time to be serious now, Remus look. “They found a, uh…” he hesitated, looking for the right word. “A test subject.”

“Oh.”

Well that answered that.

By this point, Roman had reached the door that led out to the parking garage. He stopped at the door and gave Remus a pointed look.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Remus muttered. Quickly, he emptied out his pockets and shoved his phone, wallet, keys, a small notebook, a miniature lockpick set, and a pocket knife all into Roman’s waiting hands. The last time he’d tangled with an aggressive gifted, he’d gotten the entire contents of his pockets- as well as the pants themselves- reduced to a pile of molten plastic and ash. “Right. Here I go.”

“Logan will brief you. Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine, bro, chill out.” Remus patted Roman’s cheek- which his brother couldn’t do a damn thing about with his hands full of Remus’ stuff- then pushed the door open and made his way out to the intake dock.

There was already a small crowd gathered around, a safe distance from where the armored transport van had been backed into the receiving bay. Logan, Patton, and Virgil were there, of course. But the presence of a handful of armed officers was a surprise. Logan usually refused to allow the police department to send their thugs into situations like this. This sort of thing was what Remus was on the payroll for.

“Wasn’t expecting a party,” Remus said as he approached his team. Logan turned away from his conversation with Virgil.

“Ah, Remus. There you are,” he said. “I take it you have read the work order?”

“I… skimmed it,” Remus lied. Logan looked unimpressed.

“Well, just in case you missed anything important, let us recap. Virgil?”

“Uh, yeah.” Virgil stepped closer, looking troubled. “We found a gifted in there, probably a test subject knowing these bastards. He’s aggressive, borderline feral, and those jokers-” He jerked his head in the general direction of the uniformed police. “Didn’t fucking help the situation. I couldn’t reach him, but I don’t know if that’s cause he’s in a state of mind where logic and reason are completely out the window, or if he’s… like us.”

Remus nodded. His own powers would work where Virgil’s had failed, but only if this one wasn’t completely immune to the effects of other gifteds like he and Virgil were. He turned to Patton. “You got anything for me, pops?”

“Of course!” From the pocket of his white doctor’s coat, Patton produced a small capped syringe filled with bright blue liquid. “I had to guess at the dosage, though.”

Remus accepted the tranquilizer and shoved it in his pocket. It would be a last resort. Looking to Logan, he asked, “Any ideas on powers? What to watch out for?” He was not pleased to see Logan grimace.

“We don’t know yet. The base is still being swept, so it will likely be some time before we will know what, if any, information was found on this subject.”

There was a heavy thunk from inside the armored van that made Patton jump.

“Sounds like we don’t have that kind of time,” Remus mused. “Somebody wants out.”

“He was restrained when we found him. Blindfolded, too,” Virgil offered. “So he needs either visual, touch, or both.”

“Really narrows it down there, Virge,” Remus said with a huff. There was another thunk. “I’m going in. Standard operating procedure?”

Logan nodded. Remus nodded back, then looked to Virgil.

Virgil led him through the crowd of uniforms, snapping at a few of them to move back, and up to the back doors of the van. He met Remus’ gaze. There was another thunk.

“Ok, now!” Remus said. Virgil tore open the door. Remus threw himself at the gifted on the other side, and Virgil slammed the door shut behind him.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, so when he collided with a much smaller body, his momentum sent them both sprawling across the back of the van. Remus was bigger and stronger though, and didn’t have the disadvantage of being blindfolded, so he flipped the smaller body easily beneath him, wincing slightly at the hiss of pain he heard, and pressed a palm firmly against the bare skin of his neck.

“Why don’t you take a nap,” he growled. His power reached into the body, weaving its way into the circulatory system to slow the heart. Or, well. It tried to. He couldn't get a hold anywhere.

“Fuck. You are like us,” Remus muttered; more to himself than to the other, who was becoming increasingly difficult to hold down as he writhed and struggled against Remus’ weight. With his free hand, Remus reached around to try and fish the syringe out of his pocket. But the movement put him off balance. The gifted threw him off with a sharp jerk and scrambled away.

They both staggered to their feet on opposite ends of the cramped space, and Remus got his first good look at the gifted. His long blonde hair was a tangled mess, and he was still blindfolded- though he tracked Remus’ location enough to bare his teeth at him. Some sort of restraint seemed to be keeping his arms behind his back. Remus kind of wanted to murder whoever had done this to him.

“Hey, look, I’m not trying to hurt you,” he offered, even though he knew Virgil had already tried using his literal powers of persuasion on him. “I swear, I’m just trying to help you. But you need to calm the hell down.”

The gifted had pressed his back up against the wall of the van. Talking wasn’t going to do shit. The sooner Remus ended this the better. He rushed the gifted again; the gifted spun out of his grasp, and his hand closed on… feathers? The fuck? Whatever. The gifted had cornered himself against the back wall of the van. Remus spun sharply and slammed his weight into him. Winded, and with his back pinned into the corner, there was a precious few seconds where the gifted made no move. That was enough time for Remus to slip the cap off the syringe and jam it into the gifted’s thigh.

His muscles immediately went slack, and Remus carefully lowered him to the floor, mindful of the goddamn wings he could now see were strapped down tightly against the gifted’s back.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” he asked sadly. He leaned over to bang three times on the van wall to signal the all clear to Virgil. A sudden, sharp pain raced up his other arm, and he jerked back with a yelp. The gifted had apparently gathered enough strength for one last act of defiance and had lashed out to fucking bite him, what the hell? Remus pushed him back down to the floor, and this time he stayed down.

One of the back doors to the van eased open, and Virgil peeked in. Remus turned to him, and the whole world spun.

“Ah, fuck,” he managed. “Venomous. Cute.”

And then he promptly blacked out.

Remus woke up in one of the dimly lit rooms of Patton’s infirmary. Patton had a vendetta against fluorescent lights, instead opting for soft, warm lights that didn’t give everyone headaches. Remus was thankful for this every time he woke up here- which was often- but especially now. His head was throbbing, and he kind of felt like he’d been hit by Virgil’s big armored transport van. Which he had before (his own damn fault) so he knew exactly how it felt.

His phone buzzed. Wincing at the movement, Remus glanced over to the small table beside the bed where his phone sat amid the pile of his other belongings. Which meant he had been out long enough for Roman to stop by and leave again. His phone buzzed again, so despite his body screaming at him for doing so, he reached over and grabbed it.

His team’s groupchat was filled with missed messages from the past hour. He scrolled through the most recent ones with a slight frown.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, please give us an update on Remus’ condition.

Daddy

He’s gonna be just fine, kiddos, he’s just sleeping it off.

Daddy’s Favorite

👏👏👏

Surly Temple

Oh joy.

Daddy’s Favorite

You were just as worried as the rest of us, Dr. Gloom.

Surly Temple

You can’t prove that.

Daddy

Calm down, kiddos.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, I would also like an update on the subject.

Daddy

Are you sure? There’s kinda a lot to talk about.

Nerdy Wolverine

Something brief, then. I will come by the infirmary when this meeting is over.

Remus

Logan, texting during a meeting??? 😱😱😱

Surly Temple

Remus!

Daddy’s Favorite

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!

Remus

I lived, bitch.

Daddy

I’ll be right there! Don’t you dare sit up!

Remus was already in the process of sitting up when Patton burst through the door. He winced slightly at the pain, but moreso at the disappointed look Patton gave him.

“Uh-uh, you lay back down, mister,” he said. Remus sighed.

“I’m perfectly fine, pops,” he whined, but laid back down anyway, because even Remus knew better than to argue with Patton.

“Maybe, but you know the drill,” Patton replied. Remus made a noise of protest, but let Patton take his vitals and check him over. Then after an eternity- or more accurately, about five minutes- Patton stepped back and said, “Alright kiddo, you’re all good. Take it easy though. Maybe go home after the debrief, ok?”

Remus sat up now that he was allowed to. “I can’t believe that little fucker bit me,” he scoffed. He glanced down at his arm, where it had been bandaged up. “What happened to him? Where is he?”

Patton looked a little uncomfortable, which more or less answered Remus’ question. The agency would be forced to hold the gifted here until the illegal lab had been fully cleared out and all the paperwork filed; and, well, there was a good chance Logan’s bosses would send in government officials to “assess the mental stability of the liberated test subject,” which was really just shitty politician speak for “see if this could become a huge scandal and decide if it was better to just make it all disappear.”

“Fuck,” was all he said. Then he got unsteadily to his feet. “Where’s Logan?”

Patton put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “He’s in a meeting with the chief of police. They’re trying to take the case.”

“Teach won’t let ‘em,” Remus said proudly. “I’m gonna, like. Go sit in my office. Cool?"

Patton eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. Remus gathered up all of his stuff from the table beside the bed, and darted out the door before Patton could change his mind.

When Janus woke up, he immediately became aware of three things, in consecutive order.

First, he was somewhere he had never been before. That realization did not come as a surprise. He, of course, distinctly remembered the whole… “getting dragged out of his cell by people he didn’t know” incident. Usually he knew better than to lash out, but… there had been so much noise, so much unfamiliar chaos, and in his fear, he hadn’t known what else to do. And of course, it hadn’t done him any good; it never did. And now he was here. Wherever “here” was.

The second realization did come as a surprise, as he sat up on the cot where he’d been laid, and looked around the sparse, softly-lit room: he was completely unbound. His wings were still instinctively pressed against his back, but they twitched at the realization and slowly unfurled to their full span. He winced slightly as tendons snapped into their proper places for the first time in a very long time but then he sighed in relief as the fragile bones settled.

He had only just begun to catalogue the state of the rest of his body when a voice startled him into the third realization: he was not alone in the room.

“Damn, look at you!”

Janus flinched so hard he almost hit the wall the cot was pushed up against. He brought his wings around him protectively, and turned his eyes on the man sitting on a plastic chair near the opposite corner of the room. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized the voice of the man from the truck.

“Hey, hey, don’t ruffle your feathers at me like that,” the man laughed. “Sorry about before, man. It was the only way to get you off the truck.”

Janus didn’t say anything. But he shifted so he was crouched on the cot rather than seated, in case he needed to dart away quickly. That seemed to amuse the man further.

“Relax, I ain’t here for a rematch. You kicked my ass fair and square. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Janus glared.

“I’m Remus, by the way. You got a name, snake-bird?”

He stood up as he said it, and Janus instinctively flinched back. The man-Remus?- didn’t look like the bad people, dressed in baggy jeans and an alluringly soft-looking green flannel. The bad people always wore white coats or body armor, depending on what they were planning to do to him that day. But… maybe they were just trying something new.

The man hadn’t moved closer. He was watching Janus with a look that fell somewhere between sadness and anger, and it kind of made Janus want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“I, uh… I guess they treated you real bad down there, huh?” Remus said slowly. “Look, I know you’re scared, and you’re probably super confused, but you’re safe now. I can at least promise you that.”

He didn’t wait for any sort of response from Janus this time, instead turning to riffle through the bag that had been leaning up against his chair. He withdrew a fluffy, pale yellow blanket. He looked between it and Janus, and while Janus wasn’t the best at reading facial cues, he thought for a moment that Remus looked… embarrassed. Then, he moved forward a few paces and set the blanket down and backed up again.

“Here, uh… that’s for you. If you want it. Anyway, yeah. I’m gonna just.” He edged toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Janus.” His name leapt from his tongue before he could stop it. His voice was raspy, and his throat was sore, and he was still afraid- terrified- but still he ground out the words that made Remus pause in the doorway to look back at him. “I’m… Janus.”

The file Logan put down in front of them was almost the size of the textbooks Remus used as doorsteps in college (rather than their intended use) and for a moment, they all just stared at it. Then, Remus said what they were all thinking: “Well, fuck.”

“I hate to agree,” Roman sighed. “But yes. That.”

“Of course there will be much more to go over after I have had the time to fully analyze these files, but I thought it imperative I explain the current situation to you all as soon as possible,” Logan said. He was seated at the head of the conference table. The rest of the team was seated around the table except for Virgil, who paced restlessly nearby. Everyone- even Remus- stayed quiet, because when Logan talked, everyone listened.

“With this file, and similar documents recovered both from the most recent site and from previous sites, as well as the recovery of a live test subject, our case is more than sufficient to ensure those responsible will not walk away from this.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Virgil, who had been working on this case alongside Logan for years, looked especially relieved. He collapsed into the chair next to Remus, and Remus leaned over to ruffle his hair with a grin.

“You guys should be proud,” Patton exclaimed. “You worked so hard to see this through!”

“Well it’s not finished yet,” Roman pointed out. He nodded to the file in the middle of the table, that none of them had dared to open yet.

“Roman is correct,” Logan said. For a moment, he looked very tired; then, he adjusted his tie, and continued. “We must first ensure we have indeed apprehended all parties responsible. There are more names in these files than persons in our custody. Additionally, there is the matter of the test subject-”

“Janus,” Remus interrupted. Everyone gave him an odd look, so he clarified, “His name is Janus. He told me.”

“...Janus, then,” Logan amended. “Janus is to remain in our care until he can be evaluated. If he is deemed capable, he will be free to go once the investigation is closed.”

Logan did not, nor did he need to, state what would happen to Janus if he didn’t pass the evaluation. The agency’s evaluation essentially just looked to see if a gifted could still be considered a “person,” or if they had gone “feral”- and not in the fun way. Feral gifteds got locked up somewhere and were never seen again.

Remus, like all gifteds, hated it; but the government viewed them as dangerous. And a gifted that wasn’t in complete control of their mind, and thus, their powers, was considered too dangerous to let go free. Regardless of what trauma had made them that way in the first place, and if, with proper care, they could heal from it. It made Remus sick.

“They’re not taking Janus,” Remus spat out, interrupting whatever Logan was going to say next. “I won’t let them.”

“Ree,” Roman said gently. “We may not have a choice.”

“No. You guys haven’t seen him- he isn’t aggressive, he’s just scared.”

“Do you know how many people it took to get him into the damn truck?” Virgil snapped. “Oh and also, he bit you? You’re immune to gifted powers and he still knocked you out?”

“Think about it from his perspective. You’ve been trapped in literal hell for who knows how long, and then suddenly you’re getting dragged out by people you don’t know, blindfolded and tied up, to go who knows where? I’d bite too.”

Patton looked heartbroken at Remus’ words. Virgil didn’t look convinced. But it was Logan who spoke.

“We have time,” Logan said. “Until the investigation closes, he remains in our custody. We make the decisions regarding his care.” He cast Remus a meaningful look, and repeated, “We have time.”

Remus understood.

He left Janus alone for the rest of the day, because he figured the guy probably could use some time to calm down. He even managed to persuade Patton to put off any sort of medical examination for the time being- partly for the same reason, and partly because Remus would need to be there in case Janus reacted badly, and Remus still sort of felt like shit and he just wanted to go home and sleep.

So Remus had gone home, passed out for like 15 hours, and woke up feeling a little less like death and decay.

The benefit of going to sleep at like 2pm was that, even after his stupidly long “I got bit by something venomous” nap, he still made it back to the agency at the crack of dawn. It was quiet, none of the police department’s goons hanging around, and Remus, with his years of practice, could sneak easily past Logan’s office.

He peeked in through the little window in the holding cell door. Janus himself was nowhere to be seen- instead, there was a Janus-sized blanket mound curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. The sight made Remus smile fondly.

“Damnit, you’re actually kinda cute,” he muttered. And then promptly decided he was not going to overthink that.

Remus camped out outside the holding cell until the headquarters came to life. The mornings were always a flurry of activity, even moreso today what with yesterday’s events. He saw the moment the noise from the hallway woke Janus up- the gifted poked his head out from under the blanket, mismatched eyes blinking sleepily, and then quickly vanished into the blanket mound once more. It was stupidly adorable.

An intern came by with a tray of food for Janus, and Remus stopped him from approaching the door.

“I got this, kid,” he said with an amused grin. “This is way above your paygrade.”

The intern handed over the tray with a look of relief and scampered off. Poor kid.

The blanket mound stirred when Remus stepped into the room, but there was no further indication that Janus intended to come out. He shut the door behind him, and walked over to crouch down near- but not too near- the blanket mound.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I take it you like the blanket?”

The blanket shuffled backward a few inches. Remus set the tray down on the floor in front of him.

“I don’t really know what kind of food you like, so hopefully there’s something here you'll eat,” he said, eyeing the assorted fruits, toast, and eggs that had been sent up. “But like, if you want something else, you can tell me.” There was no response, so Remus stood up slowly and backed away. “I’ll just… be over here, then.”

He dragged the plastic chair to the opposite end of the room to give Janus as much space as possible, and plopped down in it with every intention of waiting him out.

It took about forty minutes of idly scrolling through his phone before Janus emerged, slowly and warily, mismatched eyes darting between Remus and the plate of food. Remus glanced toward him.

“Go ahead. It’s yours. Cold by now, I’ll bet.”

It took a further ten minutes for Janus to make up his mind and emerge fully from under the blanket and approach the plate- but when he finally did, he downed the food so fast, Remus was surprised he didn’t choke.

“Guess you like everything,” he mused. “Fuck, did they even feed you down there?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer, because Janus was moving back toward his blanket. But rather than vanishing again, Janus sat down facing Remus, with his back to the wall, wings draped around his body like a blanket, and the actual blanket across his lap.

“They did, sometimes,” he replied. His voice sounded a bit rough still, like it had been a while since he’d used it, and quiet enough that Remus had to strain to hear him from across the room.

“Shit, man, these people fucking suck. How long'd they have you?”

Janus seemed to consider the question, but ended up just shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He avoided Remus’ eye for a few minutes, but he looked like he had more to say; Remus just waited in silence until finally, Janus asked, slowly, “Why am I here? Who are you?”

“I’m glad you ask, bud,” Remus answered. He stood up, and Janus flinched back slightly, feathers puffing up a bit. Remus moved a few feet closer, and then sat down on the ground so he was level with Janus. “It’s kinda a long story, but the short version is that it’s our job to go after the kinds of people who do this sort of shit. And the people who took you are gonna go to jail for the rest of their fucking lives for what they did.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “They ain’t gonna lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”

Janus eyed him carefully, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing. Remus couldn’t blame him. And then he was gone, vanishing back under the yellow blanket. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, and stood up.

“I, uh. Yeah. I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” He paused at the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You want more blankets? Some pillows, maybe?”

A muffled “Yes,” was the reply. Remus, again, could not help but smile fondly to himself.

Sleeping on the floor meant that Janus could stay alert to anyone approaching his cell, by sensing the vibrations in the ground. By his third visit, Janus could easily discern Remus’ gait from that of the others that passed down the hall.

He brought pillows and more blankets, just like he said he would. And then he asked if he could bring a friend in.

“He couldn’t give you more than a quick once-over when you first got here,” Remus explained while Janus sat on the floor and inspected his new blankets, marveling at how soft they were. “But he wants to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere.”

“I’m not hurt anywhere,” Janus said quickly. It wasn’t totally a lie; he wasn’t hurt anywhere specific, he just sort of hurt in general. That was normal though.

“Ok, I’m gonna pretend I believe that,” Remus huffed. “But even so. He’s gotta do it sometime soon.”

Janus cast Remus a sideways glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, and he still wasn’t sure how much he could trust these people. The ones before had never shown him kindness- he’d been grabbed off the street in his early teens and treated like an animal ever since. This new place… it felt different from anything he’d experienced before, and that made him wary.

Being shown kindness and then having it taken away was worse than having never been shown it at all.

“Okay,” Janus said finally, because he didn’t think he was actually being given a choice in this.

“Okay,” Remus echoed. He seemed unconvinced, which sent a small spike of anxiety into Janus’ chest, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Remus. The man had brought him blankets, for goodness’ sake. “I’ll text him.”

Janus decided to busy himself with nervously running his hands through his oily feathers. His wings badly needed grooming, but he didn’t know how to ask for brushes. Would they let him have brushes here? He wasn’t allowed them at the old place. He was so lost in that thought, that he didn’t sense someone approaching the door until it was being opened.

“Hey, pops, come on in,” Remus said. Janus glanced over, and was immediately gripped by panic.

He didn’t recognize the man, and his expression of “cheer fading into concern” was an unfamiliar one, but it was the white coat he wore that Janus recognized. He knew what the white coat meant.

He got caught in his pile of blankets as he tried to scramble to his feet. He tripped and crashed to the ground; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus make a grab for him. But he was too quick, kicking off the blanket that had tangled up his legs and springing to his feet. He used his wings to balance himself and buffeted Remus over the head in the process.

“Janus- fuck-” Remus staggered back to avoid a second blow from Janus’ thrashing wings. The man at the doorway looked torn between rushing in to help and backing away. Janus bared his fangs at him, but he was shaking so badly, he felt like a small breeze could topple him.

The man took a step closer, hand held out, but Janus barely heard his words- “Oh gosh, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you!”- over the blood pulsing in his ears. His back hit the wall behind him, and abruptly his legs gave out. He slid down to the ground and curled his wings over his head.

“Janus?” Remus’ voice sounded far away beyond the curtain of feathers. “Hey, you gotta talk to me here.”

“I’ve been good,” Janus managed to choke out. “I- Please don’t, I’ve… I’ve been good.” He curled further in on himself, fully expecting to be struck.

But nothing happened. The door opened and closed. Then silence. Janus risked a quick peek through his feathers and found that the other man was gone. Remus sat a few feet away.

“It’s ok, he’s gone,” Remus said quickly. Janus did not lower his wings, but the shaking abated slightly.

“I’ve been good,” he said again, a little more firmly this time. “You promised.”

Remus looked unnerved. He scooted a few inches closer and asked, “What did I promise?”

“That they… they wouldn’t hurt me again,” Janus hissed. Then, softer this time, “I’ve been good.”

“You have been good, but that doesn’t have anything to do with… wait, did you think…” Remus looked confused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Patton isn’t one of them. Is that what you thought?”

Janus just glared.

“Oh, snake-bird.” Remus’ eyes softened. “Patton’s one of us. He’s ok.”

“He looks like them,” Janus growled. “White-coat.”

“White coat… oh, shit, man, I didn’t even think.” The sudden volume of Remus’ voice made Janus shrink back into the safety of his own wings. “Oh, shit, sorry. Hey, come back. I’m sorry.”

Janus folded his wings back with a huff, and gave Remus an unamused look. Remus gave him a soft smile in return.

“I mean it. Patton is one of us. I can tell him to take off his coat. He won’t touch you unless you tell him he can. And you can tell him to leave, at any point, and I’ll throw him out myself. Deal?”

Janus searched his face for a long time. Remus seemed… so distressed. What would be the point, of faking that? There would be no reason to fake any of this, would there?

(Or maybe there was, and he was just too blinded by the hope that his nightmare had finally come to an end to see it.)

But slowly, reluctantly, but unable to shake the small seed of trust in Remus that had just started to take root, Janus said, “Deal.”

After the small fiasco that was Janus and Patton’s first meeting, things actually went rather smoothly. Patton wasn’t able to give as thorough of an exam as he was hoping. Janus was too skittish for that. And he had flat out refused a blood draw, which Remus had kind of expected.

But at the very least, Patton was able to sign off that there were no signs of physical trauma that demanded immediate medical care, which was really all Logan’s bosses wanted.

Despite his initial reaction, it seemed like the experience with Patton actually helped Janus feel more confident in his new situation. He grew more comfortable exercising his new control over his body and his space, even going so far as to tell Remus to go away when he wanted to be alone. And when he asked for brushes for his wings one day, Remus left work then and there to go get them. When he came back, Janus was waiting at the door for him.

“Well then, eager beaver, I hope I got the right stuff,” Remus said. He handed over the bag. It was way more than the two brushes Janus had asked for, but Logan had given him the company card and, well, Logan should know better than to do that.

“Anything is better than a rag and my own hands, which is what I usually use,” Janus said. Remus very politely did not make the joke he so desperately wanted to make. “Is that… a bottle of dish soap?”

“Sure,” Remus answered as Janus pulled the little blue bottle of Dawn dish soap out of the bag. “They use it to clean crude oil spills off penguins and shit and, like, a penguin's a bird, right?”

Janus sighed deeply, but he was smiling, and Remus would steal him the sun if it meant Janus would keep smiling.

“Anyway, uh…” Remus shifted awkwardly. “I can, like. Leave you alone, I guess. If you want. Unless you want… uh, never mind, I’ll go-”

“Would you help?” Janus asked. He glanced down at the bag in his hands, and added, with much less confidence, “Um. There are parts I can’t reach.”

“Yeah, of course,” Remus said immediately. “Just tell me what to do?”

Janus guided him to sit down on the ground, and then plopped down next to him. He carefully spread one of his wings out and, after a moment of hesitation, let it drape across Remus’ lap. Remus tried not to feel too overwhelmed by the incredible amount of trust Janus was putting in him right now.

“Here,” Janus passed one of the bristle brushes to Remus- one of many that Remus had bought- and then chose one for himself. “Just go with the growth, please. But if you find any loose feathers go ahead and work them out. Gently, though.”

Remus obeyed. He brushed carefully through the feathers, marveling at their soft golden-brown color. Even covered in oil and grime, they were beautiful. But after a few minutes, Janus frowned.

“Everything ok?” Remus asked. He was suddenly afraid he was brushing too hard, or hurting Janus somehow, even though Janus had given no indication that he was in pain.

“It’s just…” Janus sighed helplessly. “They’re so dirty.”

He looked almost on the edge of tears when he said it, which was enough to put Remus immediately into I will do anything for you mode. “Do you want to try the Dawn? One time Patton used it to wash a cat he found that was all grimed up and shit, and it worked real well.”

Janus seemed to consider it. He glanced over toward the door that led to the little private bathroom attached to the holding cell, then shook his head.

“There’s not enough space in there,” he said. “We’ll make a mess.”

“We can go downstairs,” Remus suggested. “There’s showers in the employee locker rooms. Plenty of space.”

Janus looked skeptical. “Is that allowed?”

It was, technically, not allowed. Janus had not been evaluated yet, and he wasn’t really allowed out of holding until he was. But… well, if they were quick, no one would notice. What was life without a little risk?

“Sure!” he said. “It’s fine.”

“...Okay. Sure.”

Grinning, Remus got to his feet and gathered all their supplies back into the bag. Then he beckoned for Janus to follow.

“Logan’s in meetings for most of the day, and Roman’s off on assignment,” he said. He eased open the cell door and peered out into the empty hall. “And Patton’s usually swamped with paperwork in the afternoons. Everyone else who works here is too scared of me to say anything.”

Janus didn’t question it. Remus led him down the hall and paused to make sure the stairwell was also empty before leading him down the two flights to the ground floor. Janus seemed nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. He clung close to Remus, close enough that he almost ran into him at several points. Remus tried to give him reassuring smiles and the occasional word of encouragement.

There were voices in the break room, so they had to go around to get to the locker room. It was usually empty at this time, and today was no exception. Remus held the door open and ushered Janus inside.

“The showers are over here.” Remus pulled back the curtain and leaned in to turn on the water. “You a warm water person or a cold water person?”

“Warm,” Janus said quickly. “Please.”

As the water warmed up, Remus helped him to pull off his soft flannel shirt (one of many Remus had bought because the agency-provided shirts were those horrible starchy t-shirts and Janus had hated them.) Remus was amazed at how much healthier the scaled half of his face and body looked after just a week of proper meals and consistent rest.

“Are you sure this isn’t going to turn everything blue?” Janus asked when Remus passed him the bottle of Dawn. He still looked vaguely unconvinced about this whole thing.

“Nah, it won’t, don’t worry!”

Janus sighed. “Ok, but if it does, I shall never forgive you.”

“If I turn your wings blue, I’ll buy you so many blankets, they’ll fill up your whole room. Ready?”

“Well that makes me want my wings to turn blue,” Janus said. He followed Remus into the shower stall.

It took longer than Remus was expecting to wash out all the years of grime from Janus’ wings. It was especially difficult closer to the point where the wings met his back, because Janus couldn’t reach there on his own. Remus worked through those spots carefully, and it wasn’t until he was almost done that he realized Janus had gone silent.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mhmm.”

Remus leaned over to catch Janus’ eye, only to find his eyes were closed. There was a content look on his face.

“...did you fall asleep?”

“No.”

“You totally did!” Remus grinned. “You fell asleep standing up!”

Janus opened his eyes to glare at him, but the glare was tempered by the obvious half-dazed look of someone who had, in fact, just woken up.

“...Ok, maybe I did for a moment there,” Janus huffed. The glare became a pout. “It just feels nice.”

Remus let his grin soften into a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”

The sound of the locker room door opening and closing startled them both. Remus pulled back the curtain just enough to look out into the locker room- and he immediately came face-to-face with Virgil.

“Oh. ‘Sup, Virge.”

Virgil was eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… a smoothie?”

“That’s not… Remus, that’s not how that meme works. And you’re not even holding a smoothie.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Are you showering with your clothes on?”

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

Virgil’s eyes flicked toward the ground, then back up to Remus. “You realize I can see there’s someone in there with you, right?”

Remus also glanced downward. The curtain stopped about six inches off the ground. “Uh…”

“And I can also see the pile of feathers on the floor that you sure as fuck better not try and wash down the drain.”

“I’m not that dumb.”

Virgil sighed. “Hello, Janus.”

Janus hesitantly poked his head out from the other side of the curtain. “Hello.”

“The fuck are you guys doing?”

“We’re not having sex if that’s what you’re thinking,” Remus said. Janus made a choked sound and vanished back into the showers.

“There is no universe in which I was thinking that,” Virgil growled.

“No universe? Not even one?”

“What the fuck are you doing down here?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “If you must know, snake-bird here looked like a penguin in an oil spill. We’re washing his wings.” A pause. “Hey, since you’re here, wanna hand me a couple of towels? The big fluffy ones Patton hides.”

Virgil walked away grumbling, but by the time Remus had finished rinsing the soap out of Janus’ wings and shut off the water, Virgil was waiting outside with a stack of Patton’s fluffy light blue towels. Remus took one and wrapped Janus up in it.

“What’re you up to, Emo?” he asked as he took a second towel and started toweling off Janus’ dripping wings.

“Logan sent me to find you,” Virgil answered. He was watching the scene unfold in front of him with a look that Remus didn’t bother trying to decipher. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Probably ‘cause it’s sitting on my desk. What’s Teach need me for?”

“He wants to talk. Work stuff.”

“Oh.” Remus looked at Janus. “We should, uh. Probably get you back upstairs before he comes looking for me himself.”

Janus nodded. He gathered up the brushes and, after a moment of eyeing Virgil cautiously, reached over and snatched up one more of Patton’s fluffy towels and shoved it in the bag as well. At Virgil’s look of incredulity, there was nothing else for Remus to do but burst out laughing.

As it turned out, Logan would probably not have been upset over Janus’ field trip downstairs, because when Remus finally made it to his office, the first thing Logan said to him was, “Would you be opposed to letting Janus stay in your home?”

Because apparently, Logan had pulled some strings with his bosses to get Janus out of holding; he had argued that spending his time in a home environment- instead of a type of confinement similar to what he’d endured for a large portion of his life- would vastly improve his chances of passing the assessment. The higher-ups had agreed, with the stipulation that Janus be released into the care of one of Logan’s team.

“Of course he can come home with me,” Remus had said, almost automatically. It was a chance to get Janus out of the box he’d been stuck in all this time. There was nothing that could make him say no.

Janus had seemed hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to it. So the next day, they had packed up the mountain of pillows and blankets, the bag of brushes and stolen towels, the couple of books Logan had sent up to keep Janus occupied when Remus couldn’t, the snake plushie Virgil had apparently dropped off the night before, and the multicolored cake Patton and Roman had brought by for him that morning that was now half-eaten, and hauled it all over to Remus’ apartment. For a guy who’d been dragged out of hell with only the clothes on his back, Janus sure had a lot of shit to move.

Janus had balked at getting into a car, so Remus talked Patton and Roman into driving his stuff over for him, and then walked with Janus to the apartment. It wasn’t that far, and, Remus realized with a stab of guilt, it was probably the first time Janus had seen the sun in a long time. He kept pausing to close his eyes and tilt his head up toward the sunlight for a few moments at a time, before darting after Remus. Remus didn't stop him.

It slowed them down to the point that when they finally got to the apartment, Roman had let himself and Patton in, brought all of Janus’ stuff up, and then left. Which was just as well- Janus had met Roman only once, and had seemed oddly jumpy around him.

“So, yeah,” Remus said, after showing Janus around. “You can just grab anything you need. I don’t really keep anything fragile in here ‘cause I tend to break stuff, so don’t worry.”

It was odd, seeing Janus standing in the middle of his living room, with his wings- which after their scrubdown, actually had a soft golden sheen to them- folded carefully against his back. But he seemed relaxed in a way Remus hadn’t seen before. Logan was right.

That evening, Remus got Janus settled into the bedroom.

“Where will you sleep?” Janus asked tentatively as Remus dumped all of Janus’ blankets onto the bed.

“Huh? Oh, I’ll just be in the other room,” Remus replied. “I sleep on the couch half the time anyway, no big deal.”

“Oh.” was all Janus said. Remus made sure he was comfortable, and then went to pass out on the couch.

When he woke up sometime late in the night, he wasn’t quite sure what had woken him. Remus was, historically, a heavy sleeper. He’d once slept through a monsoon in a cheap tent. If he was tired enough, he could probably sleep through an earthquake.

He turned his head to squint out into the dark apartment, and could just make out that the bedroom door was ajar. Remus stood up to go check on Janus- and then promptly tripped over Janus.

Remus yelped, and collapsed into the blanket nest that had appeared on the ground next to the couch; Janus yelped, on account of being tripped over, and scrambled out from under his pile of blankets. They both stared at each other through the darkness for a moment, and then both spoke at once.

“Are you ok-”

“I’m sorry-”

They both paused, and then Remus laughed.

“Shit, J, almost gave me a heart attack there. You ok?”

Janus looked a little sheepish. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok. What’re you doing sleeping there, though?”

“Um…” Janus looked down at his hands where he was clutching the snake plushie. It was stupidly cute. “I couldn’t sleep, alone. I thought I’d sleep better… out here.”

Remus blinked at him, still half-asleep. And it was probably because he was still half-asleep that he said, “Do you want me to sleep in there with you?”

Janus, after a moment, nodded.

“Ok. I can do that, snake-bird. It’s ok.”

Remus helped Janus stand up, and they moved the blanket mound back into the bedroom. The rest of Janus’ blankets and pillows had been made into a nest wedged into the space between the bed and the wall. Remus smiled fondly.

“Didn’t like the bed, huh?”

“I feel safer on the floor,” Janus said, looking embarrassed. “I can… sense vibrations in the ground. I know if someone’s coming up to me.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Remus glanced between the nest and the bed, and shrugged. “I got the bed, then.”

He laid down, while Remus clamored over the bed to get to his nest and then promptly burrowed under the mountain of blankets. And as he was drifting off, Remus could have sworn he heard a soft sigh from Janus, of something that could, perhaps, be contentment.

Janus had never slept so well before. Tucked into the space between the bed and the wall, in a room so unlike the cement-walled cell he’d spent years calling home- and with the soft snoring of Remus, the man he had tentatively come to trust, nearby, Janus slept through the night. And the night after that, and the night after that.

So when he woke with a start the fourth night, it took him a few groggy minutes to piece together why he was awake. He was still curled up comfortably under his blankets. Remus was snoring away in the bed above him. And then the people in the kitchen took another step toward the bedroom, and the vibrations in the floor raced up to Janus’ body. He sat up in a panic.

“Remus,” he hissed. No response. He reached up and grabbed at Remus’ shoulder to try and shake him awake. “Remus!”

Remus grumbled something incomprehensible, and did not wake. Starting to feel frantic, Janus crawled up onto the bed and shook Remus harder. At the same moment that Remus’ eyes fluttered open, the doorknob turned.

“Janus?” Remus asked, voice rough with sleep. Then the door was flung open. Flashlight beams fell across them both as men poured into the small room. Janus turned, baring his teeth, and spread his wings to shield Remus behind him.

“Take him, alive,” one of the men ordered. Janus squinted through the harsh glare of their flashlights to pick out who was speaking. “Kill the other.”

No. Absolutely not.

Janus caught the leader’s eye and summoned his powers to him. The man tried to look away, but even in the gloom, Janus’ powers held him rooted to the spot.

“Sleep,” he snarled, forcing all of his power and will into the command. The man dropped to the floor.

In the seconds it took for him to wrest the leader’s consciousness away, the other men had fanned out around him. Janus whipped around to his left, but froze when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun touch the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice behind him sneered. A man to his right reached to grab him. There was a crack and a grunt of pain behind him, and the gun fell away- Remus appeared on his right and swung what looked like a crowbar. There was another sickening crack, and the man grabbing for Janus immediately collapsed in a heap.

The momentum of the swing propelled Remus up off the bed and into the next armed goon. They both fell backwards- Remus knocked his gun away, and as they hit the ground, a whack from the crowbar meant only Remus stood back up.

“Janus, get down!” he shouted suddenly. Janus turned- there was one man still standing, and he had his gun leveled at Janus’ chest. Janus froze. A gunshot rang out.

Janus felt himself hit his mound of blankets. Remus had shoved him off the bed. Hesitantly, he peered up over the edge.

Remus had bowled the man over onto his back amid the sheets and now sat on top of him, a hand grasping at the exposed skin of his neck. The man, rather than struggling against Remus’ grip, was clutching at his own chest. He convulsed, then fell still.

Janus put a hand on the ground. There were no more in the apartment. He climbed up onto the bed.

“Remus?”

No response. Janus hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. At the same time, Remus slumped forward and slid to the ground.

“Remus!” Janus cried out in alarm. He vaulted over the bed and crouched down next to Remus. There was blood soaking his shirt.

“Remus, fuck. Why’d you do that?” Janus hissed. He gathered Remus up into his arms and tried to put pressure on the wound. Remus gazed up at him with glassy eyes.

“I promised,” he said weakly. Janus looked down at him.

“What did you promise?” he asked, probably sounding a little hysterical. Remus gave him a gentle smile.

“I promised they’d never touch you again.”

A neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police, which was just as well, because Janus had no idea how to work Remus’ phone. The police had come and whisked Remus off to the hospital in an ambulance. Virgil came to take Janus back to the agency so that he wouldn’t be left alone in what had now become a crime scene. Janus made sure to bring his pale yellow blanket, the first one Remus had given him.

The investigation that followed revealed the intruders to be the extra names Logan had been searching for, and had returned to try and reclaim Janus before leaving town. With this, Logan could finally put the case to rest.

Remus was fine. When Janus was finally allowed to see him a few days later, he had just grinned and said, “Still not as bad as that time Virgil hit me with his truck.” Janus was not amused.

With the investigation closed, the agency could release Janus to be evaluated. Everyone gathered in Logan’s office to wait anxiously.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Roman said in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. It did nothing to soothe Remus’ frayed nerves.

“Yeah, but what if something goes wrong, like they spook him or something-”

“If he can tolerate Princey randomly belting out Disney songs, he can tolerate anything,” Virgil scoffed. Roman glared. Patton stifled a giggle. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment, the door opened. Logan stepped into the office- behind him came Janus.

“...Well?” Remus asked impatiently. His eyes were fixed on Janus.

Janus glanced toward Logan. Logan gave a slight nod, and a smile spread across Janus’ face.

“I’m free to go.”

Remus sprang up and engulfed Janus in a hug. Janus clung to him tightly, and his tears of joy soaked Remus’ chest.

94 notes · View notes

marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

Dream Girl

Word Count: 2546

Pairing: Oceans 8 Tammy x Fem!Reader

Prompts: 8 “You think I’m beautiful?” and 39 “ “Go fuck yourself.” “How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!”

Warning: Happy ending, soft pining.

A/N: For anon, I hope you enjoy love! We do love some Tammy content x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @saucy-sapphic @witchxaf @j-does-life @coconutlipss

Not my gif! This is Tammy’s face to R throughout this mess lmao x

Prompts 8, 39

“Guys I want to introduce you to an old friend of ours. This is Y/N.” Debbie gestures towards you as you lean confidently against the door frame of the front entrance to Lou’s warehouse apartment. You lift a hand in greeting chewing slowly on a piece of gum, you wink at the brunette stranger who you’ve seen on the big screens before who giggles in return. You can practically feel Debbie’s eye roll as Lou chuckles quietly amused by your confident nature.

“Nice to meet you all.” You address the women who are new to the group, before turning your attention to the woman who’s brown eyes stare hard at your form. “Tammy, always a pleasure.” You smirk cheekily at the blonde woman who scoffs irritably as she crosses her arms across her chest. Her brown eyes leave your own and turn accusingly to your childhood friend.

“Really? Lizzie wasn’t available to help.” She complains, while the other women look on in confusion at Tammy’s unusual cold demeanour.

“Hey! I am far better than Lizzie fucking Carpenter, thank you very much.” You retaliate, moving away from the door frame and into the living space. You hear Lou mutter under her breath ‘here we go’ before slipping away from the tense atmosphere, you notice the others follow suit apart from one who seems barely over the age of 23. The young girl seems to settle more into the sofa, slowly eating her M&M’s her eyes moving back and forth as if witnessing a tennis match.

‘Probably an accurate description’ You think amusingly, as you remember the previous arguments you’ve had with the blonde mother.

“Guys please, can we just get along for one job. I swear I feel like I’m 21 again whenever you two are in a room together.” Debbie expressed, tiredly. The con artist has always been the mediator of many spats between you and Tammy since you could remember.

If you were being honest with yourself, you don’t really know how this quarrel between you started. In fact, you and Tammy used to be best friends growing up. ‘Partners in crime’ your mothers had said, never going a day without talking or seeing one another. After the Ocean family had moved into the area, you became the warrior three rather quickly with Danny being a surrogate older brother to you both. That all seemed to change after college, you became more cocky with your grafting skills and wanted to make more money elsewhere and Debbie being the true Ocean she is couldn’t pass up the opportunity of the thrill. Tammy on the other hand grew tired of being constantly on the move and never settling down, once her boyfriend now husband came into the picture you drifted further apart. Small jabs at one another turned into full blown arguments where you wouldn’t talk for days until all communication stopped all together.

You have only seen Tammy once since that last argument that ended any piece of friendship left, her wedding day. To this day you never understood that painful feeling in your chest as you watched your childhood best friend walk down the aisle into those man's arms or how she looked at you from the head of the table as you danced with your date for the evening. You still don’t know why you invited her along instead of taking up Debbie and Lou’s offer of going as a ‘threesome’ which Tammy scolded you all for. Now you stand again in front of her, back to where you left off, arguing.

“I’m not the one who’s ego is so big, it fills up the entire building,” Tammy mutters in defence, making you laugh out loud.

“Please if your ignorance was anything to go by, I’m sure it would surpass my ego, Dream girl.” You respond back, watching as something unrecognisable passes across her face at the old nickname. You internally scold yourself at the use of the endearment. She takes a deep breath before bringing her hand forward towards you, making you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Truce? For the sake of the job.” She begrudgingly offers, keeping her hand out. You look at the well manicured hand and back up to her face before taking her hand into your own and squeezing it gently, you try to ignore the electricity that jolts through you at the feeling of having her warm hand against your skin again. You notice her squirm slightly and clear her throat before abruptly removing her hand from yours, adjusting her knee length skirt.

“Right well that settles it, I think we can move forward and get this plan going. Debs I have a few documents for you to look at.” She informs, her eyes glued to Debbie’s form as she steps away from your space. Clearly unaffected by the wave of electricity you’ve just experienced.

“Why would you care if you felt it anyway.” You scold yourself, dismissing the thought before going over to the couch and settling in ready for Debbie and Lou to give you the rundown on their latest Job as you take the offered M&M from the younger woman. Unaware of the torn brown eyes that is also questioning the same electricity feeling from across the way.

***

“You know I used to think Fencing was boring but you know what… I was right.” You tease, as you sit next to Tammy in the white van waiting for one of her contacts to meet her with the equipment. You laugh at the glare that she throws you, knowing there’s no real bite behind it.

“I’m kidding Tam, I think it’s a very important job and brings in a great income for the family. What does your husband think of you working again and bringing in more money than him?” You continue, not being able to help yourself. Her eyes stay glued to the front keeping an eye out for her guy, attempting to be unfazed by your jabbing.

“He thinks I’m working an office job at Vogue if you must know which is perfectly well considering he doesn’t live with us anymore.” She murmurs, double checking her phone for the green light to move out of our hidden spot and to the moving truck full of stolen equipment.

“Oh wow, Vogue huh? Moving up in the world of fashion there, Dream girl.” You mock, a teasing smile on your face to show her you mean nothing behind it and avoiding the sensitive topic of the husband talk. Her lips twitch slightly in gratitude before her brows furrow, her brown eyes locking on your own suddenly far more interested in you then her phone.

“Why do you still call me that?” She questions, her voice suddenly vulnerable. Now it’s your turn to frown, confused by her question.

“Call you what? Dream girl?” You shrug, unaware of the effect it still has on her. “I guess you’ve always been ‘dream girl’ to me, even if we aren’t friends like that anymore.” You confess, suddenly feeling very open to her in this small space. You watch the confliction flicker in her beautiful brown eyes waiting for her to respond.

“We aren’t friends anymore?” She whispers sadly, her eyes full of sorrow.

“Well I mean we haven’t exactly spoken to each other since your wedding day and even if we’ve had to interact like at my parents wedding anniversary party we just ended up bickering until we spent the rest of the day avoiding each other.” You mumble, feeling awkward and exposed with this new, honest topic of conversation. A soft hand lands on top of your closed fist that had formed unknowingly throughout this conversation making you relax from the tense position.

“I never meant for us to grow apart the way we did Y/N. Things just seemed to happen so fast I never took a minute to consider your feelings or how we just stopped being each other's person.” She opens up, she smiles apologetically at you as unushered tears build in her eyes that are full of regret. You sigh in defeat and turn over your hand to hold onto hers and squeeze in reassurance and comfort.

“Aww shucks, you going soft on me Tam Tam.” You joke halfheartedly, feeling uncomfortable with her choice of words knowing just how true they were. You see that perfectly arched brow rise knowing she’s caught your attempt at deflecting the subject.

“Even when I was with him I still never stopped thinking about you, ya know. What were you doing? If you were happy? I guess I was just too stubborn to pick up the phone and apologise.” She says, regret laced within her voice. Making you shake your head in dismissal.

“No Tam, if anyone was the stubborn idiot here, it was me. I missed out on so much of your life. Look at your two kids, they are already past your waist and soon will be off to college.”

“You are so dramatic.” She laughs, shoving you lightly. She bites her bottom lip contemplating her next words.

“You haven’t changed a bit, ya know. You're still that beautiful confident girl I remember.” A soft warm smile appears on your lips.

“You think I’m beautiful.”

“Oh the confident part goes unheard but the beautiful she hears loud and clear.” She teases, laughing as you wiggle your eyebrows at her suggestively. Before you can continue her phone chimes indicating our packages have arrived breaking the weird spell we had created putting an end to our conversation.

You pull away from each and adjust in your seat, an unsettling feeling settles in your chest as Tammy pulls away from the alleyway and towards your drop off location. Comfortable silence fills the van leaving you both with your thoughts.

***

“How could you be so reckless?! You were so closed to being caught, I swear one of these days you're going to end up in jail and I will only have one thing to say to you ‘I told you so’.” Tammy shouts, speeding towards you as you enter the living room with the rest of the crew.

Tammy, Rose and NineBall had stayed behind for this job, their talents needed back at base while you and the rest of the gang carried out the job elsewhere. The heist was a success but your risky slip up towards the end of the job didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde who had stayed glued to NineBall’s side watching from the screens as you effortlessly pulled off your side of the job with the exception of your slight slip up. The others scatter away towards the back room, staying clear of Tammy’s rage which has only surfaced in the last two weeks of you arriving. You throw your hands up in defence.

“Hey! I had it Tam okay. Yes it was risky but I did it. You think you can do a better job please, be my guest.” You murmur, too tired to argue loudly with her.

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N!” She spats, arms crossed in defiance.

“How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!” You retaliate, smugly watching as her angry demeanour falters at your words. Silence fills the room, except from the light scratching on the wooden door leading to the back room indicating to the earwigs next door. You watch as her brown eyes turn dark with determination, the rest of her face stoic as she marches towards you with purpose. Before you could question her intentions, her usually delicate hands fist your shirt pulling you close as soft full lips clash hard with your own overwhelming senses. Once the initial shock is over you relax into the kiss and place the palms of your hands against her cheeks cupping her face. Before you could take it further she inches away keeping her forehead against your own as she catches her breath. “You were saying?” She whispers teasingly against your lips.

“I um, yeah. Mind if we do that again, I don’t think I quite pinpointed the flavour of your lip balm. Was that min-” Her lips cover over your own once more stopping your rambling.

Scuffling from behind Tammy causes you to stop your moment of bliss, as you both watch your friends stumble through the back door bickering quietly to one another. You clear your throat to make your presence known and watch as they freeze. Keeping an arm around Tammy’s waist you address the peeping toms and earwigs.

“You guys got somewhere to be?” You mock, as Tam giggles quietly against your shoulder trying to hide her now red cheeks.

“This is my apartment, you can’t kick me out.” Lou justifies as Debbie laughs grabbing her clothed arm and dragging her out of the room making sure the others follow.

“It’s about time they figured it out and I don’t want to be here for the aftermath. It could still go either way.” She murmurs to Lou loud enough for you both to hear making you roll your eyes are your friends ‘told you so’ attitude.

Once the group has left, you hear Tam sigh softly against your shoulder. “I think we have a lot to talk about.” She informs softly, a small content smile appearing on her face making you pull her even closer, placing a kiss to the top of her hairline.

“Later. I just want to hold and kiss you a little longer.” You confess, holding onto her just a little tighter basking in the blissful moment.

Finally

***

Later that evening as you both lay cuddled up in the guest double bed of Lou’s apartment, you whispered sweet hidden confessions to on another that haven’t been said out loud before.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen Y/N. That night you picked me up from that awful date with Jefferson when he tried his luck with me. You were so angry with him and I asked if I could stay at yours so my parents wouldn’t see the state of me.. you just held me all night no bombarded questions. I watched you sleep with your arm wrapped around me, even in your sleep you were still trying to protect me.” She stops talking for a moment and looks into your eyes, holding your gaze . “I just remember thinking ‘no one is ever going to match up to my expectations because you outdone them all without realising’ but I knew that our friendship meant more and I didn’t want to ruin it.” She pauses, as she twirls your necklace that lays on your bare chest smiling softly realising it’s the one she bought you at college graduation. “You still kept this?” she whispers, her breath softly touching your neck making you shiver. You place your hand over hers stopping her movements.

“Tam, even though we lost sight of our friendship I still always thought of you. Everything I did or saw reminded me of you and how stunningly beautiful you are. I can’t seem to quit you, Dream girl. And now that I have you properly I don’t ever wanna stop.” You vow, knowing that every word spoken speaks the truth. Because you have always known that you and Tammy were more than just friends, you were just too stubborn to allow those thoughts to come to light. But now that you have her close you don't ever want to let her go.

#tammy x reader #sarah paulson x reader #oceans 8 #debbie ocean #debbie is the biggest supporter of this couple and i love it #sarah paulson #tammy #tammy is an angel

239 notes · View notes

doomonfilm · 3 years

Text

Ranking : Gus Van Sant (1952-present)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

22 notes · View notes

spcncershybrid · 4 years

Text

Misunderstanding-Spencer Reid Imagine PART ONE

GIFS ARE NOT MINE I FOUND THEM ON GOOGLE

(Summary: When your brother Elijah comes back to share some news a certain genius can take it the wrong way especially when you haven’t told him your family background.)

Spencer Reid X Fem!Mikaelson!Reader

(A/N: The case portion is not the best. I'm sorry I gave up halfway writing it that’s why it’s so rushed. Also I created an instagram account for this blog!)

I walk into the bullpen greeting JJ and Penelope as I head over to my desk. I look onto my desk to see a giant bouquet of roses sitting on top of it with a small card. “Awe did Spence get you those?” JJ says, placing her hands on her face as she gushes about the flowers. “There’s a card, read it. Don’t keep us in the dust.” Penelope says getting closer. ‘-Hope you're free soon. E.M’ I read on the card. “Who’s E.M?” JJ asks. “I have no clue.” I lie as I shove the card into my desk. Why would Elijah send me flowers? “Why are you all gathered so secretively?” I hear Spencer say as he gets closer to us, tugging at his bag. “Your girlfriend has a secret admirer boy wonder.” Penelope says excitedly. “No I don’t Pen.” I say glaring at her playfully. Spencer shifts uncomfortably. I walk over to him giving him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it.” I whisper to him. He looks down at me smiling softly. He really shouldn’t worry seeing as the flowers are from my brother who the whole BAU has no clue about. I hear footsteps walking over to us and someone clear their throat. “Case?” I say smiling as I turn around to face Hotch. He nods as we all follow behind him. “Agent Mikaelson nice flowers by the way.” Hotch says, smiling, breaking his cold demeanor. I shove my head into my hands laughing as I sat down in the debriefing room. “I heard our fav BAU girly got flowers, kid how do you feel?” Derek says walking in putting his things down. Spencer grumbles an answer before Penelope gives us all our files. “Okay my fine superheroes our case today is just at our backdoor in Mystic Falls, Virginia.” Penelope says walking to the board with her remote. “Ten bodies were found burned and scattered in the Mystic Falls Cemetery.” Penelope says confused. She flips through the crime scene photos. “A cemetery really?” JJ questions as the outside photos appear. Now I can guess why Elijah sent the flowers. I pull out my phone and text Elijah.

-I can see the occasion the flowers were needed for.

-Sorry for the dire circumstances whenever you are available I can pick you up

-Fine.

I place my phone back into my pocket as the team continues talking and creating theories on the case.

We all enter the jet grabbing our usual in air items for the small flight. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I place my water and chips down as I head over to the back far away from the team. “Yes?” I say answering the phone. “This conversation will continue in person but our dearest mother is back.” Elijah’s voice says through the phone. “Really?” I questioned not expecting my suspicions to be true. “How is everyone else?” I ask. “They’re adjusting and creating a plan when you land tell me.” Elijah says back. “How’d you know I was flying?” I ask, smiling slightly. “Some may say our family has marvelous hearing.” He says. I hum in response. “I’ll tell you when I land. Bye.” I say quickly as I see Spencer walk over with my drink and chips. “Who was that?” He asks as he hands me my things. “No one Spence, it isn’t really important.” I say smiling at him. “Want to cuddle? I know you sometimes hate quick landings?” He asks, sitting down next to me. He raises his arm and I immediately cuddle into his side smiling. “Awe they are so dang cute.” I hear Emily whisper over to JJ. “I know right.” JJ whispers back smiling. I smile softly at their words although they weren't meant for my ears. I feel Spencer kiss the top of my head. “Stop.” I say softly. “I can’t reach your forehead at this angle so next best thing.” He says laughing.

_____________________

We head over to the sheriff’s station and are greeted by Elizabeth. “Hi, welcome to Mystic Falls BAU team. I’m Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes.” She says greeting us. “Hi I am SSA Hotchner. These are SSA Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Mikaelson, and Morgan. This one is Dr. Spencer Reid.” Hotch introduces us all. She leads us to a room to set up our things and exits the room. “You do know this may be supernatural.” I say exiting the room, walking over to her. “Of course.” She says smiling at me. “My family will get to the bottom of it secretly.” I say smiling back. “I heard a bunch of stories about the Mikaelson family. You don’t seem ruthless.” She says tilting her head. “Well I can control my bloodlust and before I was turned I was considered the nicest in our village. Without my humanity can be a different story.” I say matter of factly walking to the room with my team. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket before I enter the room. “Hello?” I question. “Lovely my older sister!” I hear Rebekah’s voice exclaim through the line. “Bekah? What do you need first Elijah now you. Let me guess Kol is coming next.” I say laughing slightly. “Who’s Y/N talking to?” I hear Spencer’s voice say. “Look Rebekah, I have to go, I have a case.” I say quickly. “In Mystic Falls I presume.” She says. “Yes I’m guessing it was mother. Elijah said he’ll fill me in later. Now can I please get back to my job.” I say hanging up the phone. I walk into the room catching the eyes of the team. “Sorry about that my cousin is...apartment sitting.” I lie. “Do we have anything to go off on about the case?” I switch the subject quickly to not get more questions asked. “Well Garcia is running some background information on the bodies. Only two were identified.” Derek says eyeing me. “That’s great.” I say looking at the information. “We're just about to interview the identified people’s families.” Derek says standing up. JJ and Spencer follow him out. “So who really was that?” Emily asks me as the door closes. “I don’t know what you're talking about Em.” I tell her looking away from her. “If you say so but please don’t hurt Spence in the process.” She says. “I won’t Em trust me all of you have it wrong.” I say placing some pins on the board. She hums and turns to the board placing her own things on it. Emily’s phone starts ringing. “Yes Garcia.” She answers. “Okay I’ll put you on speaker.” She says pulling her phone away from her ear, placing it on the table. “Okay girlies so, I already told the rest of the team but we have a lead on a guy named Damon Salvatore. Someone tipped him off as a low level arsonist. The team is headed to his house but they said you guys are closer to him.” Penelope says then hangs up the phone. Damon? Really? Who got him involved? “You coming?” Emily says peeking her head through the door vest in hand.

_____________________

“Damon Salvatore! FBI!” Emily says, knocking on the door. “I’ll head to the back .” I tell Emily as I sneak to the back. “Okay Damon I know you can hear me.” I whisper. “Can you tell me why the feds are at my door” I hear him whisper back. “My family is having some issues. I guess you were framed, or someone got compelled but take the fall then I’ll help compel you out.” I whisper back. “Why am I not surprised.” Damon whispers. “Just do it Damon.” I whisper, scolding him slightly. I hear the door bust down and my team's footsteps echo around the house. I enter through the back meeting Damon’s blue eyes. “Let me arrest you.” I whisper. He rolls his eyes and turns around. I quickly cuff him and exit the home handing him over to Sheriff Forbes. “Your family owes me.” I hear Damon whisper. “Yeah yeah.” I whisper back heading into the FBI van. We make it back to the sheriff's station with Damon being held by Sheriff Forbes. “When we leave you can compel them.” I say walking towards him. “Of course. Tell Barbie Klaus I said hi.” He says, smirking slightly. I nod and walk over to my team as we all gather our things to head to the jet.

_____________________

We all walk into the bullpen setting our stuff down at our desks. I see Spencer swiftly type something into his phone before shoving it back into his pocket before exiting the bullpen. “Delivery for a Y/N Mikaelson.” I hear a guy’s voice say from behind me. I look over to see a man holding a bouquet of orchids. I see the team clasping their hands together looking excited. Next time I see Elijah I will end him. I walk up to the delivery guy and stare into his eyes. “Whoever sent these flowers you will return them and tell the person I didn’t want them.” I say compelling him. The delivery boy exits the room with the flowers. I hear my phone ding. Think of him he shall message. Great Elijah again.

-I’m outside

-I’ll be there now Elijah

I grab my bag and exit the room making my way to the elevator. I head down and step outside being greeted by my brother's car. “Stop sending me flowers this morning was enough Elijah.” I say opening his car door. “I didn’t send any after this morning.” He says looking towards me. “Then who sent them.” I say confused shoving my bag into the car. “My guess it’s him.” Elijah says pointing behind me. “Y/N!” I hear Spencer exclaim as he holds orchids and my phone in his hand. I hesitate slightly looking at Spencer. “First it was the flowers then the secretive texts and calls. Is that him?” Spencer says running a hand through his hair. “What?” I asked confused. “Is he the reason you sent my flowers back?” Spencer questions shoving the flowers in Elijah direction. “That was you?” I ask piecing together the situation. He messaged the flower delivery guy while we were all in the bullpen. “Don't act like you didn’t know you told the delivery guy to give it back!” Spencer says, raising his voice. “If we leave now we can make it.” I hear Elijah say stepping out of the car. “Make it where Y/N.” Spencer's voice cracks slightly as tears pools his eyes. “I can’t say where Spencer.” I tell him sadly. I can’t tell him about my mother; she'll probably kill him. “If you get in that car don’t bother coming back.” Spencer says walking to me, handing me my phone. I hesitate looking between him and the car door. Elijah steps back into the car. “Sorry Spencer.” I whisper, grabbing my phone. I step into the car and shut the door leaving Spencer standing at the sidewalk. Elijah starts to drive off turning up the music slightly. I look at the side mirror seeing Spencer throw the flowers in the car's direction and drop to his knees. My heart breaks at the sight. I broke his heart. “You and your boyfriend seem to be in the middle of a huge misunderstanding.” Elijah says breaking the silence. “Should I just come clean and tell him?” I ask, sighing heavily as I look out the window. “Do you love him?” Elijah asks, looking towards me. “Yes but I never told him about our family and us being the originals. This whole mess makes me want to skip town and just let him have a normal life without me Elijah.” I say looking at him. “If you love him and trust him, tell him. I envy your semi-normal life, we all made a vow to each other but you still managed to live your life.” Elijah confessed as he stared back to the road. “Yeah well thinking and acting mortal doesn’t necessarily make me one.” I say sadly as an unknown tear slips out. I hear multiple beeps go off from my phone indicating a bunch of messages.

Pen: What did you do to Boy Wonder?

JJ: What happened between you and Spence?

Derek: Did you and kid have a fight?

Emily: What did you do??

Hotch: What happened between you and Reid?

I shut off my phone sighing at the influx of messages. What the hell did I do?

#criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #elijah mikaelson #the originals #the originals imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #criminal minds

234 notes · View notes

anonthenullifier · 3 years

Note

Tommy’s First Girlfriend

Thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoy it! -

It is not in Tommy’s nature to be nervous. Fifteen years of data so far has confirmed this. The last time there was any speck of a wavering self confidence was right before his first review with Sam after a mission, even then it was only a speck amongst the sea of almost endless assuredness that Vision admires (and may even envy) so much in his son. But here Tommy stands, refusing to make eye contact or keep his fingers still while asking a simple question, “Is it okay if I have a, uh,” Vision catalogs the way Tommy runs a hand through his hair, failing to find any similar instances of it being a nervous tic, “friend over to watch a movie, or something.” The last two words are muttered quickly and quietly.

The request is a common one, the Maximoff house slowly becoming a haven of sleepovers and study sessions, primarily for the Young Avengers crew, much to Vision’s delight. “Of course. When-”

“Tonight.”

Wanda glances at Vision, wordlessly seeking if he’s picking up on the general weirdness of Tommy’s on edge and too abrupt, even for a speedster, responses. A small nod provides confirmation and Wanda does what he cannot, easing seamlessly into a natural candor that masks her interrogation. “That’s fine. Is it the whole group or just Nate?”

The grout between the tiles of the backsplash becomes fascinating to their son, his feet developing a gentle forwards and backwards rock. Vision turns to inspect the area above the stove, just to be sure there is not a spectral demon coming through (an event that, sadly, happened a few months prior). There is nothing but the powder blue and white checkered pattern. Eventually, with an uneasy sigh, Tommy answers, “Her name’s Lisa.”

Vision sorts through all the files of people their boys have talked about and doesn’t find a match, even amongst the files from their old schools. This is not an issue, however, because they trust their sons in choosing friends. Before Vision can state this, Wanda mines for just a touch more background, a cheery smile on her face as she asks, “Who’s Lisa?”

Tommy’s rocking increases to a rate above a normal human’s, a sure sign he is contemplating whether he remains in the kitchen with them or abandons the entire endeavor by turning into a streak of green. “I met her during Avengers Give Back,” an annual community service event Pepper started five years prior, “we cleaned up the juvie cafeteria together.”

The attendee list for that site streams through Vision’s mind, stopping at the name Lisa Molinari, female, age fifteen, Springfield, New Jersey. Vision shrugs off the slight annoyance at the knowledge of Tommy hiding a friend from them, something that is within their son’s right but Vision thought they had a more open communication relationship with their children than that, and begins planning. “Does she have any food allergies?”

“Fine, geez,” Tommy’s confession bursts out, “she’s kinda my girlfriend, I think, I don’t know, we’re feeling it out, but I just need you all to be cool and just stay out of it.” A half second of silence is enough for him to actually process the question that was asked, as opposed to the one he thought was, his eyes wide, darting everywhere but Vision and Wanda. “I uh..” If not for Vision’s optimized visual processing, he never would have seen Tommy yank his phone out nor registered the furious tapping of his fingers before being informed, “I’ll let you know when she texts back.” With that Tommy extricates himself by disappearing in a blur.

—

If Tommy was nervous before, now he is veering into full blown anxiety, circling the room at a pace that threatens the integrity of their couch and has led to Wanda securing the bowl of popcorn in a cloud of red so they don’t have to clean up the room again. “Thomas…” for the majority of parenthood, Vision has found himself at a loss for how to fully advise their children, having never experienced a true childhood himself, but in this instance, he finally feels useful, remembering the way he would hover endlessly in thought at how to approach Wanda or analyze whether her laughter and gentle touches to his arm meant something more than just a close friendship. A second, “Thomas,” slows their son down. It doesn’t stop him completely, but he is now moving at a conversational pace. “Entering into a relationship can be exhilarating and terrifying. It is-”

“I’m not afraid of her, dad.”

“I should hope not.”

Tommy’s annoyance manifests in a moody sigh and an eye roll, an attitude not conducive to romance and one Vision hopes to quell. “You simply need to be yourself and enjoy your evening.” A flippant shrug is all he gets and Vision does his best to temper his own annoyance at how hard Tommy can make it to have a meaningful conversation, something Wanda assures him is fairly common for teenage humans. “You should also be sure to be respectful and remember that consent goes two ways. Neither pressure her or be pressured yourself into an action you are not ready for. There is ample time for physical developments in a relationship and thus there is no need to rush anything.”

“Oh my God.”

Wanda smirks, her hand finding Vision’s and providing him a commiserate squeeze, “Your father’s right. Relationships have to be built on trust and respect.” If he and Wanda were of the same mind, this is where the conversation would stop, however, his wife far prefers to throw a little chaos into any situation. “Plus, we’re going to be in the kitchen all night and don’t want to overhear anything, got it?”

Tommy’s flustered, “Mom,” ends abruptly at the descending two note chime of the door bell. They allow their son to answer the door, his “Hey,” deeper than usual and attempts to be suave, or so Vision assumes based on the clearly fake air of nonchalance Tommy tries to exude by shoving his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit. “Come on in.”

His date’s voice is the only thing that comes through the door, “My foster dad wanted to make sure your parents are here.”

The exasperated tone of the statement melds perfectly with the jerky wave of Tommy’s hand, directing Vision and Wanda towards the door. Once Tommy and his date move out of the way, Wanda sends a friendly wave to the man in the silver minivan. He acknowledges them with a single honk and then drives off.

“Thanks,” with the van gone Lisa relaxes just enough to smile politely at them while still making it known how ridiculous she thinks the request was, “He’s a bit protective.”

“Understandably so.” Vision cannot fault the man. Much to Billy’s chagrin, Vision always makes sure the Altman’s are around whenever their son goes to socialize, and the Altman’s, in return, always text to be sure Teddy can come over. Realizing they are all standing in an awkward circle, Vision allows his manners to soothe the air. “Welcome, I am-“

Tommy verbally elbows his way in, eager to move them along, “My dad and this is my mom and this” he waves a hand at his date, who grins nervously during the rushed intros, “is Lisa.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Mom, dad, you had something to do, right?”

Wanda nods, hands coming to wrap around Vision’s bicep to tug him towards the kitchen, “Let us know if you need anything.”

—

They remain, mostly, hidden for the duration of the night, tucked behind the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, conversing almost exclusively through Wanda’s telepathic link. At semi-random intervals either Vision or Wanda will cross the hardwood floors to get a cup of water or a snack, each time tracking the movements of the teens on the couch. Slowly Tommy inches closer to his date, their voices hushed but giddy, and on Vision’s trip back with another glass of water, his lips journey up into an easy arc at the way Lisa has slouched over, her ponytail laying across Tommy’s arm. When he sets the glass down for Wanda, taking her hand into his own so he can toy with the band of her wedding ring, Vision whispers his assessment. “They have reached the cuddling phase.”

This causes his wife’s nose to scrunch up, an adorably joyful sight, her eyes flashing red just to confirm his own conclusion, “They’re happy.”

“That’s all that matters.” Vision leans in, placing a kiss to his wife’s forehead, fond memories surfacing of their own movie night where they transitioned from friends to something more. “Would you care to join me on the deck for some stargazing?”

Instead of agreeing, she studies his face, an air of suspicion hovering between them, “You want to abandon our post?”

“I want to give them some time.”

The curl of her lips suggests she remembers their own pleas to their teammates, of just wanting time and space to exist as a couple instead of being subjected to prying eyes and whispers, “All right, Maximoff.”

Wanda accepts his arm and follows him out the back door and onto the swinging bench.

Time loses meaning under the stars with Wanda snugly wedged under his right arm. Which is why he’s surprised to hear the door open, gentle, unhurried footfalls bringing Tommy to the swing. Wanda brings her knees up, hugging them to her chest to give Tommy space to plop down, the action sending the swing into a wobble.

“How was your date?”

Unlike his usual sardonic avoidance, Tommy smiles, eyes upturned towards the sky, “It was fun.”

Vision cannot control how the world treats his children, no matter how valiantly he tries, and so he relishes moments like now, content in knowing Tommy is happy. “Wonderful.”

#Tommy shepherd #Tommy maximoff #wandavision #scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #ask anon #mine #the maximoffs

17 notes · View notes

erickadracula · 5 years

Text

Uncertainty - Chapter III

Having succeeded in convincing her husband, Ericka had returned to the castle. She didn't want to spend another minute in that very depressing place with a weird smell and greenish lighting. If they wanted the patients to feel more depressed when they were there, they succeeded, nothing was more hopeless than that environment.

In her room she bathed to remove that sensation, she put on her satin pajamas and put a few drops of her favorite essence. It had been a long and tedious night but luckily they had been able to leave without Drac asking any more questions.

"What was your mother like?"

He saw her through the mirror of her boudoir as she finished grooming, her bewildered gaze made her think that he was the same, without really knowing anything about his progenitor. What little she knew of her mother was that she was a frivolous woman according to her great-grandfather, very much like her physically and not very intelligent. In a nutshell, her great-grandfather hated talking about the subject and she had limited herself to observing the family albums, in which his mother came out only a couple of times.

"Why do you ask me my dear, I really did not know her, I only knew her name, Lilian"

Vlad had taken charge of stripping him of any memory and information he might have about her, not only did he never know her location or whether she was alive or dead, but also he did not possess any pictorial representation. Of the cruel things his father had done to him, he had forgiven them all, except that.

Really, that question had taken him out of balance, they knew almost everything of one another, they had already touched that subject but he had preferred not to comment it and Ericka had understood that it had to be very painful for him, and for her, sometimes the subject was more than a blank space and she didn't have much to say about it either, so that conversation completed very quickly.

"I think you and I are the same, I would have liked to know more about my mother”, the little things she could find in documents is that her maiden name was Schroeder and studied art history but nothing more, “I would like to know how she was like, what she liked, I'd like to know what her voice sounded like. That advice she would have given me."

He looked at her sadly without knowing what to say, he understood that feeling perfectly, the children who had grown up without any of the parents, or in her, without the two, could sometimes feel like a boat adrift and he also very seldom asked those questions in his head, while fantasizing about an image that could represent her in life, not just a body but a face.

Approaching the bed to wrap herself in the long arms of her husband, she felt guilty about bringing the subject up, but she was in need of some kind of advice, some support and more right now in her life, with affectionate words from a woman.

Unable to remove the subject of the head, while feeling Drac kissing her neck and shoulders lovingly, she never had a woman to fill that emptiness in her life. The closest had been her first governess, who died when she was very small on the high seas. She was the closest thing to a maternal image, although she had not shown her much physical affection, they had been commissioned to teach her: from sitting, talking and taking cutlery. She was an elderly woman, very hard and she had vague memories of her, often calling her attention. She smiled slightly as the count continued his affective demonstrations.

"Why so much love today? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you as a widow, we the Van Helsings are long-lived, even without alterations" she got in front to admire those eyes that radiated so much affection “I don’t like to see you as did today, I don’t bear it dear."

"Do not play with that, I could not bear to lose you" giving her a passionate kiss taking her completely unaware. She felt that desperation, some violence and especially that passion that had moved her, he was standing on top of it, while she succumbed to that.

Drac, letting himself be carried away by his effusivity, forgot for a moment that his beloved wife was just out of the hospital for having easily fallen from more than fifteen steps in dead weight, when he heard a slight moaning sound that made him stop dead to realize his mistake.

"Excuse me... Honey, are you all right? " He was terrified for his lack of consideration, completely moving away from her as if it were harmful to her health.

"Don't worry, I'm just still a little sore" she felt one of her sides and made slight grimaces of pain and cursed, interrupting that moment “I would like to take a glass of whisky at this time" she exclaimed with some air of discomfort.

She remembered that sometimes, when she suffered heavy falls or accidents, her great-grandfather compensated with a glass of whisky, aged for more than thirty years of his personal collection. He had not been able to drink them for dozens of years but he was conformed to smell his notes through the glass. She remembered that he kept saying: dust-off those pants and get up, the pain is merely transient if you focus on it, you lose what you were previously focused on.

"I know that it is not advisable to mix it with antibiotics“ the vampire said while trying to figure out what passed through the head of his wife, sometimes it seemed indecipherable to him, even though she was an open book for him. You see the ocean, but you do not reach its depths, he had told Van Helsing about Ericka.

"Yes thanks darling, I couldn't anyway" she thought about the doctor's words, about that possibility. Everything indicated to that, if she had wanted to avoid it she would have done it.

Drac had forgotten to tell her that he had warned her great-grandfather in a moment of desperation about her fall, he was about to take a flight to Romania, he was furious blaming her husband and she trying to calm him from the other side of the phone. That scene was a like a fire.

"I swear I'm fine, I skipped calling you yesterday, yes, it wasn't Drac's fault I swear. You don't need to come, really" those monotonous answers were endless as she rolled her eyes.

The vampire was distressed at that scene, wondering if perhaps he had done wrong to inform the patriarch of the Van Helsings, but what he could do, he was her only relative and could not stop doing that.

She confirmed for the umpteenth time that her health was in optimal condition, Ericka hung the phone with a look of reproach to her husband. "Remind Dracula of the pact we made between us” his great-grandfather had told her in a threatening voice.

If her nerves were on edge before waiting for the doctor's call, she could now say that they had reached a new level.

"Did he stay calmer?” he said while helping her get out of bed. She closed her robe quickly, trying to hide the bruises that were present in her legs before the look of guilt from her husband.

She hated this feeling, as much as she wanted it, she could not be bad with him, he had done well to warn Abraham and the poison that her ancestor could spit was something she was already accustomed to.

"Yes, he only mentioned something of a pact..." Opening with a single touch of her hand one of the walls that gave to their wardrobe, she was lost in that ample room.

He was frozen, Van Helsing must have been very distraught and very angry to have mentioned that.

“Do you know what he meant?" enquired his wife from the inside.

"Yes..."

Abraham was a hard nut to crack, It was almost a year since he had asked for Ericka's hand in marriage. He had been taking charge of making the moment a torture, clearly Ericka ignored all these things but, he had not only threatened him of what he would do if he did not make his granddaughter happy, but had also prepared an absolutely unfair pre-marital contract that would make any normal person seriously consider it three times and surely would not end up accepting.

To Drac, he was no bothered by any legal matter, perhaps the most significant part to him had been that pact, between gentlemen, on the day of the wedding before Ericka was present at the altar.

Van Helsing had asked him to speak to him a few minutes earlier in one of the rooms of the castle, Drac was distressed that he would put more obstacles to his imminent marriage but it was not. Without preamble and looking at those eyes that seemed to turn red, he made him promise that if something happened to Ericka and she lost her life, he had to die with her, no matter the reason.

It had been absurd for him to even tell him that, he did not imagine a life without her but somehow showed that his former rival, despite having ceded, did not trust him.

The phone was ringing again, making him return to that room, trying to use this as an excuse to avoid any questions, he lifted the horn.

"Hello, yes Doctor Gillman it is good that it is you, we were expecting your call, do you already have my wife's results?"

Ericka, terrified, came out of the closet with the speed that could be allowed, seeing that it was too late and far away to avoid it.

"There's no problem, anything you can tell me around here, and later we'll pick them up"

She wanted to try to avoid it, there had to be some kind of confidentiality between patient and doctor in the world of monsters but apparently there wasn’t, or at least not when it came to Count Dracula.

She saw how in a couple of seconds the his expression changed completely, his jaw was completely open. There was no doubt, it was true and he knew it.

@hellodrerickarulzht3

#drericka #drac and ericka #hotel transylvania 3 #hotel transylvania #fanfic #fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

princessparadoxical · 7 years

Text

I never thought that Priest would be the one to accurately summarize this episode but “this is going to be a wild one” says it more articulately than I ever could. And also someone asking about Dirk’s deal and Farah responding with “actually I don’t know what Dirk is” because isn’t that at the heart of everything at the moment. Everyone wants Dirk Gently but no-one has the faintest clue what he is. Hell, he doesn’t seem to know what he is (other than in desperate need of a hug and a milkshake and probably years of therapy).

I don’t know what the significance is of the underground paintings at the beginning of every episode. Maybe it’s the content. Maybe they’ll finally pan back to reveal the artist. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re taking place underground. Either way it’s a mystery within a mystery and also works with the current fan theory that pits are going to be important in season two.

Oh Trosts, don’t accept gifts from the Mage. Do you know nothing about narative? Do stories not exist in Wendimoor, or do you just wander around repeating the prophecy to each other? But sadly no sign of Silas, for which I am in mourning.

Todd sleeping like a dork, Farah sleeping like an actual angel, and Dirk studiously not sleeping because of trauma and christ, that’s going to start taking a toll soon because sleep deprivation is a form of torture banned by the Geneva Conventions and Dirk is doing it to himself. It doesn’t take much for exhaustion to turn into paranoia.

I don’t know whether anyone agrees with me but Todd and Farah flirting was utterly adorable, either they’ve got some friendly banter going on or it’s something more but it was good fun. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before” I’m assuming they’ve had some fucking weird experiences while on the run, where is this fic series please.

Dirk’s gorgeous face when he realizes he’s getting unfettered access to the costume department lost property and evidence room. He’s a pressure cooker of anxiety and guilt so as far as I’m concerned, he should be taking whatever victories he can.

Someone should be keeping track of how many laws Farah is breaking this season.

I don’t know why Todd thinks that Dirk wouldn’t be squeamish? He’s seen dead bodies, sure. Doesn’t mean that he likes them. But kudos to Todd for trying to coax Dirk out though, even if it’s the exact opposite of what Dirk needed at that moment. Todd, my small angry bisexual son. You’re doing beautifully.

Vogel suggesting that he can be Amanda’s son. Or grandson. I was going to ask jokingly whether he knows how family works but in retrospect, he might not.

Dirk’s “maybe it was some kind of accident” spiel sounds like he’s trying so hard to give them what they want in a way that’s not going to put them in danger but there’s no right answer here and he’s floundering.

He’s probably also imagining his old friends and his new friends dying in equally strange and unusual ways and that’s not going to be great for his mental health.

The only thing I can take away from Friedkin’s “why is there no breakdown video or something?” is that he’s the kind of person who has to bingewatch things because of his terrible attention span and sure, we’ve all been there, but it’s less endearing when people’s lives depend on you knowing your shit. Fingers crossed that his assistant puts together some cliff notes or some flash cards or something.

Hobbs asking Todd “what’s his deal?” literally made my heart skip a beat because I thought he was subtly trying to check out Dirk’s relationship status or sexuality and I was ready to throw a fucking parade, I’m long-term Brotzly trash but I’d also happily sell my firstborn chld for some canon Dirk/Hobbs content.

No matter what else happens this season, Dirk being able to honestly say that he’s working with local law enforcement like a real detective is going to be one of those happy memories that he could use to summon a Patronus.

Todd keeping the brass knuckles like the world’s weirdest souveneir from the world’s weirdest case. What a dork.

I’m so fucking glad that someone called Friedkin out on almost shooting Amanda in the head, that’s been bothering me since season one. I just wish that person wasn’t Priest, because the casting video described how Priest shot another Blackwing subject’s jaw off and that’s been haunting my nightmares for a very long time now.

Tina is my bisexual empath punk law enforcement daughter and I will literally die for her.

But also what if Tina is an actual empath and she’s been abusing substances for so long as a form of self-medication?

Dirk saying that he’s in Bergsberg to deal with all their weird and freaky coincidences because he thinks that’s all he’s good for.

Did Susie just straight-up murder the entire book club?

I’m assuming that Bart got the bell the same way Dirk got up the ladder, there is something spooky going on here and I don’t know whether it’s a causality psychic thing or a Bergsberg thing but I need to know more.

Friedkin, can you please stop flirting with people after electrocuting them. I know we’ve all been talking shit about Todd’s game but man, yours is 1000% worse. Stockholm syndrome isn’t fun. You’re not making any friends.

The thing about the construction company having the same insignia as the Mage’s forces is that one of them probably had to predate the other. My money is still on the Mage coming through the portal in the 1960s (either on the boat or during the huge power surge) and founding the construction company?

Dirk repeatedly rejecting Todd’s offers to talk, god damn it, I know you’re not the best with people but this is an opportunity too good to pass up.

The entire scene with Vogel and Priest, there is a lot going on here, the familiar Rowdy 3 music starts and you see the van and you know things are going to go wrong and then Vogel’s face. My heart broke. This is the monster from his childhood who’s taunting him with his stolen family, threatening the one friend he has left, and who just broke his hand for shits and giggles. I’m officially nominating Vogel as the Blackwing subject most in need of a hug this episode (sorry Dirk).

... and that’s predominantly because Dirk has Todd dropping some much-needed truth bombs about Dirk’s value as a human being. Because I don’t think Todd realized until now just how domestic some of Dirk’s dreams were. He wanted his friends and his Agency. He wanted to solve mysteries and help people. He wanted it to be calmer and he wanted it to be better and now he feels like it’s neither and Todd developed pararibulitis because of him. But Todd’s still there, still offering help, still doing shitty British accents. Quoting something that Dirk told him the very first day they met. That means something,

But Todd mentions “fate and chance” in the same way Dirk mentions “fate and chance” to Friedkin in episode one and that’s concerning. That’s a very specific phrase being used under very specific circumstances and I can’t imagine that it wouldn’t be reused later in a horribly ironic echo.

Susie trying to keep the wand and book makes me think of Gollum clutching the One Ring going “my precioussss” and I genuinely didn’t predict that the Mage and Susie would be this antagonistic towards each other, but there are still seven episodes to go in this season so they might still join forces.

When they said that Bart was asking everyone whether they knew Ken, they really meant that she was asking everyone.

Dirk’s face when Panto says his name :) :) :)

This episode kicked the Bechdel Test in the teeth in the most thrilling and innuendo-laden way possible and I’m fully here for the new Rowdy 3 of Tina, Farah, Amanda and Bart.

And the biggest mystery of all: why the fuck does the sweet sunshine bean dislike pink.

#dirk gently #dghda #my contributions #shout-out to sharkcats as usual for the livestream m'friend you are saving my heart from breaking every week #I'll think of more shit later probably but eeehhh #can't wait to watch it all again!! and again!! ang again!!

73 notes · View notes

nataandreev · 4 years

Text

Fragments from “The Pursuit of Art” by Martin Gayford

Way Out East 11 In Beijing with Gilbert & George

I had accepted a seat in the smoking section. A relatively recent non-smoker, I thought it would not make much difference. The result, however, was the periodically smokers came back to have a cigarette, sitting in the empty seat next to mine - and every one of them felt it would be polite to have a conversation while they did so.

No one seemed sure why this Gilbert & George show had been allowed.

by South Korean artists a while before, was forcibly taken down. G&C’s approach, in contrast, had beed accepted with alacrity - and here we all were.

whereby decadent, bourgeois art was expected to be abstract.

‘normal conservative rebels’ - would have baffled most secret policemen.

This show is said to help Peking’s bid for the 2000 Olympics.’

‘What is a Rembrandt? It is himself. All the inner feelings of the artist. Or Van Gogh. It’s just him, a completely maniac person. You see his mad vision and that’s it.

‘I think it’s very good we’re in the picture reminding the viewer that its not a boring artwork, only an aesthetic experience. It’s us saying something to them.’

Gilbert & George started out, proclaimed themselves one artist, and defined their idiom as ‘living sculpture.’

a community high in the Alps close to the border with Austria who speak neither Italian nor German. but a language of their own, Ladin.)

‘You mean the vision. We only believe in that, Even when you see a Michelangelo, it’s just his vision, that’s the important thing. Then you find your form. But the important thing is to have a vision.’

The globalization of the international art world had already, begun, and, like the economic variety, was to gather ever greater pace in the years to come.

Way Out East 12 Naoshima: A Modern Treasure Island

‘The art, the building and the environment should work together to wake up the viewer.’ The phrase he used - ‘wake up’ - recalls the term satori, meaning ‘awakening, comprehending or understanding’, used in Japanese Buddhism.

It was made about 500 years before the modernist architect Mies van der Rohe remarked that less is more.

how oriental Claude Monet really was. After all, he was a collector and lover of Japanese prints, which hung all around his dining room, 6,000 miles away in Giverny.

Monet’s western identity was already blending with the east. The freedom of his paint strokes might seem just a flourish of the brush, but when you step back they become plants, water or reflected sky.

I had a moment of satori. I could see that Monet’s subject was everything - growth, change, light, dark, heavens, earth - and nothing (just passing shadows on few feet of pond), which is very Zen.

Way Out East 13 Travelling in Chinese Mountains

the Sea of Mist from the peaks of Huang Shan, the Yellow Mountain range. In its way, this is a sight as fundamental to Chinese culture as the Pantheon is to the Greek, or the Pyramids to the Egyptian. In a way it is the subject of Chinese art.

There, in the excellent Shanghai Museum, for the first time in my life I saw a large collection of classic Chinese painting.

Anish Kapoor cited them as one of his sources of inspiration; the poet Kathleen Raine suggested that the Chinese masters of the Song Dynasty were perhaps the greatest landscape painters of all.

Chinese thinkers believed - rather before Albert Einstein - that matter and energy were one. Everything was a manifestation of divine energy or qi (pronounced chee). Literally, the word means air, water or breath: a life-force powering the cosmos.

Just as the Innuit are said to have fifty different words for snow, Chinese commentators on art distinguished a whole thesaurus of ink marks.

Such vocabulary, incidentally, is sadly lacking in European languages, which is one reason why it is so hard to discuss painting with precision.

Xunzi, born about 310 BC, there was a hierarchy of qi. Such elements as fire and water had qi, but not life. Plants had qi and life, but not understanding; animals and birds have all three, but not ‘propriety’, or a moral sense of how to behave and shape the world. Only human beings have that.

The Chinese phrase for pilgrimage means literally ‘paying one’s respect to mountains.’

But these are not warring forces like good and evil in the Middle Eastern Manichean - and Christian - view of the world, but complementary forces. The sinologist Rolf Stein translated them as ‘shady side (of a mountain)’ and ‘sunny side (of a mountain)’. They were necessary the each other.

This was, he argued, quite distinct from the European, post-Renaissance system of fixed-point perspective, which automatically also fixed the spectator in a certain spot in relation to the world.

The viewer navigated, as we do in the real world, through ever-shifting surroundings using our senses and our intuition.

the point was why this kind of sight meant so much to the Chinese. To them, it seemed to be a direct experience of the universe at work. The landscape came and went just as all things do: people, dynasties, empires, event mountains. Only the swirling energy is immortal. As a view of the cosmos, it is astonishingly up to date.

0 notes

kpopdreality · 6 years

Text

02:[NURI]

Masterlist

Kyu and I ended up giving each other our numbers after class, sadly we didn't share any other subjects together. Walking out of the last class of the day I made my way to my job at the little cafe down the street, it was situated close to a Starbucks so not many people actually came to this little place. Walking into the staff room dropping off my backpack and getting my apron and tag.

10 minutes into my shift I hear the deep voice which I've been hearing for a while, I peak over the coffee machine to see that it was him.

Him: A random guy that has been coming to this cafe for the past few weeks. Always with a black mask and cap. He would order something and spend a few hours here just sitting there, sometimes with a laptop but usually just on his phone. Then a call would come and he would leave in a black van.

Maybe he's a spy.

He looks in my direction and I deck behind the coffee machine before he could know I was looking. Pretending to be looking for something under the cabinet I feel the presence of someone looking around the machine at me. I slowly look up to be met with him who has a teasing smile on his face. I straighten myself and clear my throat, that's right Nuri act like you weren't hiding from him on the floor of the cafe.

"Yes sir? Can I help you." He nods.

"I accidently said I wanted almond milk in my coffee can you change that to whole."

I nod and grab his coffee cup and made the change with my marker. He says thanks and walks away.

Good job Nuri you have graduated from observing the guy from a far to a conversation about almond milk.

I shake my head and went on doing my job. As my shift was ending I see him get up answering a call and heading outside walking into the same black van he always got into after drinking his coffee.

On the walk back to the station my thoughts kept drifting to the stranger. He was fairly young, young enough to be in university with me. It would explain why he was at the cafe so often, maybe he was a student.

Feeling my phone vibrate in my hand I looked down to see the name Yana Unnie flashing on the screen. She was the senior that had a room available at her place, if her roommate agreed this apartment was a dream come true. A luxury apartment a 15 minute walk from the university and I would be getting my own room. All the other apartments I looked at I would be practically sleeping in the living room. Also I would be getting the place for free, apparently Yana's roommates grandparents and parents bought her roommate the apartment after she got a job, so I would be living there for free except for utilities and groceries.

"Hello?"

"Hey Nuri! Its Yana, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Nope, Im just walking to the station"

"Ok great! So I talked to Ara and she said yes! Sorry I meant to call you on Saturday but I forgot. Anyways you can move in whenever, you know the address and just give me a call if you want me to come pick you and your stuff up!"

I stopped myself from jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!"

She laughed on the other end, "No problem! By the way it's just going to be us two for the next few months Ara is actually going to be traveling starting this Friday. I'll be texting you her number so you have it just incase Im not home when you move in."

"Ok thank you!"

"Great I'll see you soon, get back home safe alright."

I start to nod but then realize that she can't see me.

"See you soon! thanks!"

Ending the call I let a small squeal leave my lips, causing some looks. Ducking my head I quickly walked the rest of the way to station. This is going to one of my last 20 minute train rides and I can't wait.

Masterlist

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts reactions #bts request #bts scenarios #bts fanfction #bts fic

1 note · View note

ramajmedia · 5 years

Text

The Sopranos: 10 Hidden Details About The Main Characters Everyone Missed

The Sopranos is one of the most influential shows in television history and remains one of the most acclaimed series of all time. The compelling exploits of mod boss Tony Soprano and his family made for riveting television. It is one of those shows that you can return to again and again without ever getting sick of watching.

RELATED: The Sopranos: Ranking The Show's Biggest Twists

However, for even the most loyal fans of the show, there are likely still a number of details that you might have missed. From the behind-the-scenes preparation to the actors' methods to the unseen bits of trivia, there is still a lot to uncover with the show. Here are some hidden details you might have missed about the main characters of The Sopranos.

11 Goodfellas Cast Members

Despite being a ground-breaking bit of television and influencing plenty of shows that came after, The Sopranos also drew inspiration from other works as well. Being that it is a show about the mob, the series paid homage to many of the great films on that subject, especially Goodfellas.

Martin Scorsese's mob masterpiece is at the top of its genre and several of The Sopranos' cast members even appeared in that film. Of course, Lorraine Bracco played Karen Hill and Michael Imperioli played Spider. There was also Frank Vincent who had a memorable role as Billy Batts, and Vincent Pastore and Tony Siciro appeared in small roles.

10 Gandolfini's Method Acting

Though he was an accomplished and acclaimed character actor by the time he got the role of Tony Soprano, James Gandolfini became a household name thanks to the show. Despite the huge cast of talented actors, much of the show rested on Gandolfini's shoulders, and he proved more than up to the challenge.

RELATED: The Sopranos: Tony’s 10 Most Intimidating Quotes

While he was regarded as an absolute pleasure to work with, Gandolfini often used method acting to access Tony's darker moods. Apparently, he would put a peddle in his shoe to irritate himself when Tony was meant to be in a foul mood and would even stay up all night just to achieve Tony's tired look in the morning scenes.

9 Jon Favreau

Though some may have forgotten, Jon Favreau had a role in the show during its second season. Favreau played a fictional version of himself, directing a movie in which Christopher was a consultant on.

Favreau talked about the experience during an episode of his talk show Dinner for Five. He explains that when he was first approached about joining the show, he was written in a very flattering way. However, Favreau insisted it be changed so that he came off as more of a wimp and be ridiculed by the other characters.

8 Steve Van Zandt As Tony

One of the most likable characters on the show is Silvio Dante, one of Tony's oldest and most loyal friends. In an inspired bit of casting, Silvio was played by Steve Van Zandt who was best known as the guitarist for Bruce Springsteen's E-Street Band.

Though he had no previous acting experience, Van Zandt proved to be perfect for the role. However, the show's creator David Chase originally wanted to see Van Zandt try out for the role of Tony. Van Zandt chose not to audition, as he felt he should not be taking the lead role from an experienced actor.

7 Loraine Bracco As Carmela

A fascinating aspect of the show was the examination of Tony's mental state and his continued participation in therapy sessions with Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco). The intense and insightful scenes between these two characters make for some of the best moments in the show.

RELATED: 10 Best Pop Culture References Made On The Sopranos

However, Bracco was originally considered for another important female role in Tony's life: his wife Carmela. Though she was the first choice for that role, Bracco decided it was too similar to her famous role in Goodfellas and chose to pursue the Melfi role instead.

6 Director Steve Buscemi

As the popularity of the show crew, gome big-name actors joined the cast in supporting roles. One of the most memorable additions was Steve Buscemi as Tony's cousin, Tony Blundetto. Buscemi was a welcome addition to the show, even scoring an Emmy nomination for his Season 5 performance.

But Buscemi's involvement in the show actually goes back further than that. He has directed four episodes for the series, including "Pine Barrens," which is labelled the best episode in the series.

5 Christopher The Writer

Christopher was one of the more complex characters in the series. Though he was a key member of Tony's crew, Christopher struggled with his own demons and didn't seem to have his heart in the career of organized crime like the rest of the guys. In fact, he often tries to make it as a Hollywood screenwriter.

Though Christopher might not have what it takes to be a successful writer, actor Michael Imperioli was one of the most accomplished writers in the cast. Prior to the show, he wrote the Spike Lee film Summer of Sam, and is the only cast member to have written for the show, penning five episodes.

4 Adriana's Introduction

Adriana was a character whose importance continued to grow as the show went along. Though she was initially Christopher's girlfriend without given much to do, she gradually developed into her own character with her own compelling storyline that ended in tragedy.

RELATED: Ranked: Every Major Death On The Sopranos

Interestingly, Adriana's beginnings on the show go back to a wordless role in the show's pilot. Actor Drea DeMatteo can be seen in the first episode as a hostess in the restaurant scene. It is not until later episodes that she is introduced as Christopher's girlfriend.

3 Tony Siciro's Gangster Past

Paulie Walnuts is one of the most entertaining characters on the show. Though he is a man capable of violence, just like any of Tony's crew, he is also a hilarious and ridiculous person. His outrageous tidbits of trivia and observations make him one of the series' funnier characters.

However, actor Tony Siciro is actually the cast member whose real life most closely mirrors the show. Siciro was previously affiliated with a life in organized crime, even going by the nickname "Junior," which is used in the show. When asked to be on The Sopranos, Siciro's only stipulation is that his character Paulie would never rat on other characters.

2 Nancy Marchand's Death

Much of the early seasons of the show focused on Tony's very complicated relationship with his ailing mother. Though it's clear they have serious problems as family members, the relationship deteriorates even more and her past abuses are explored in more disturbing detail.

Sadly, actor Nancy Marchand died before the third season was filmed. A final scene between the characters was created using digital technology before the character of Livia Soprano was killed off.

1 Tony's Shorts

Even with the difficult subject matter, the show always strived to be as authentic to the world they were trying to depict. Apparently, they usually achieved this goal with James Gandolfini claiming he had been contacted by several real mobsters and commended for the show's accuracy.

However, one slip-up that was noted came in the first episode. After featuring a scene in which Tony is at a barbecue wearing shorts, a mobster told the actor such attire was unsuitable for a don. Later on in the series, this inaccuracy was brought up with another don chastising Tony for wearing shorts.

NEXT: The Sopranos: 10 Storylines That Were Never Resolved

source https://screenrant.com/the-sopranos-hidden-details-main-characters/

#screenrant

0 notes

discogs · 7 years

Text

bringing life to the should-be-alive: the best covers of classic songs - a list

in some's musical careers, an artists first and sometimes only hit will be a cover. for the dexys midnight runners, one of their first hits was a magnificent cover of van morrison's 1972 track 'jackie wilson said (i'm in heaven when you smile),' for others they don't get such a fantastic rep (see alien ant farm's dismal cover of michael jackson's 1987 hit 'smooth criminal'). a cover version should be a new take, a different take on a classic or lesser known track. it should revive what it's covering and bring to the table what the song had initially lacked. the main key to a good cover is revival and creativity, something that a lot of artists fall short on.

below is a short list of covers that do exactly this, therefore making them not only unique to the artist but also giving the songs a new kind of life.

1. robyn hitchcock: the ghost in you (2014) the psychedelic furs: the ghost in you (1984)

robyn hitchcock, the eclectic uplifting ex-frontman of the legendary proto-punk band 'the soft boys' has often left followers of his floored by his innovative music and bursts of uniqueness. as one of the most distinguished vocalists of his time (standing along side the likes of jonathan richman and tom verlaine within his genre), he has brought more than enough to the table than we could have ever asked for. however, in his recent 2014 record 'the man upstairs,' hitchcock opted for an all-cover, all-acoustic album. this record has many brilliant covers on it including a slightly more erotic version of roxy music's 'to turn you on,' and a lighter version of the doors' 'the crystal ship.' yet the most outstanding track on this album is the opening track, a soft, careful cover of the psychedelic furs' 1984 single 'the ghost in you.' while the original is riddled with a quaint main synth riff and choir-like backing vocals in the chorus, is it contrasted heavily by richard butler's almost monotonous bowie-esque vocals. it's a beautiful sweeping song of love and confusion that is very much of it time. but at many times it seems as though it comes on too strong for such a sad topic. some times contrasts like that can be good, but in this song - despite its undeniable genius - it almost feels as though the sentiment is lost in the power of the execution. in hitchcock's version, the gentle guitar immediately strikes a sense of concern. it plays almost idle, as though the notes themselves are twiddling their thumbs. not soon after the initial impression we are kindly met by robyn's iconic voice gently brushing over iconic lyrics such as 'falling over you is the news of the day,' 'stars come down in you,' 'ain't it just like rain?' and potentially the most impactful his loving delivery of the repetition of the word 'love' in the latter half of the second verse. robyn's voice suits the cotton-soft emotion of the lyrics and gives them the life they deserve. his version is very much like the first chirping of birds in the morning, like sunshine warming your face after a long winter, which is exactly what the song needed - some love.

2. bauhaus: ziggy stardust (1982) david bowie: ziggy stardust (1972)

i have no need to tell you of the grand impact of david bowie's 1972 record 'rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars.' if you're reading this, you know. in the context of the conceptual album, the song sings sadly. it is a tale of a being who lost his head in the midst of fame and fortune with allusions to abandonment by friends, very similar to the exile and death of rolling stone's founder brian jones. it chronicles the career of well endowed superstar from mars, who falls victim to the human ego he had been trying to dismantle by starting a musical career to begin with. perhaps its due to the deficiency of proper effects for the time that the song lacks a certain passion that you swear oughta be there. the genius guitar of mick ronson has all the indications of a grand performance, however it stays trapped in mono. even bowie's vocals feel muted, where's the hype? where's the chaos of ziggy's career? has the beer light gone out? it wasn't until bowie devotee peter murphy came along in 1982 with his ground breaking band of bauhaus that the song was given the life it deserved. murphy has a knack for impersonating bowie, but in his time to completely replicate bowie, he instead displays his own personally unique voice. daniel ash's constant stream of guitar is relentless, we are never released from the excitement of this track. even the verses, which were originally quiet, have the same electric energy in them. every beginning of a chorus is kicked off with kevin haskin's quick and powerful drumming, and murphy's vocals split through the revolutionary song of demise like a knife. the beer light has been switched on, the triumph of a hero has been brought to life. the cover gives the original all that bowie had been aiming for - excitement, energy, chaos, rile, all of it. it transforms the song into the true anthem it was meant to be, filled with spinning turmoil and a constant 'in your face' attitude, the song ends with the last cry of '... ziggy played guitar' as a drum roll and screeching guitar leaves us breathless in the midst of it's product.

3. marching church: dark end of the street (2015) percy sledge: dark end of the street (1967)

percy sledge's 'dark end of the street' is the exact kind of forbidden love song you can imagine your high school sweetheart and you dancing to haphazardly with faces flushed red with love. it echoes of 'earth angel,' in many ways, making the aspect of the love the two shared being wrong even more powerful. throughout the entire track, the wedding-like backing vocals and instrumentation remind us that this is a doomed romance. and though sledge's voice conveys a level of longing that is necessary for the subject, the darkness of the street the two lovers meet on is lost on the track. the mentioned darkness that hides their wrongs is not expressed in the sorrow filled song, a love that is described as a sin seems too sweet still. in a way, the impending end is polished over by sentimentality. danish lead singer of well known bands such as iceage and vår, however, does not let the grim fate of this love affair slip from his grips. book ending a triumphant debut record, elias rønnenfelt whispers the lyrics once belted as though speaking directly to his lover through a vinyl record. the version is quiet, the depth of the blackness of shadows conveys through a bass line that is every present in the song. the background samples of cars passing, faint doors closing, subtle drums, percussion that reminds one of footsteps from a rickety second story. the covers conveys all the forbidden mischief of two unfortunately lovestruck individuals. you can picture yourself at the end of the street, whimpering cries of adoration to your lover in secret. rønnenfelt sounds pained, worried, paranoid, even, about the potential to be caught. and the hum of the saxaphone through the rain near the end of the song brings about a flood of remorse for two lovers caught in an inescapable situation. all the once glossed over despair is on full, withering display here, for all the ear to heard.

4. rowland s. howard + lydia lunch: some velvet morning (1982) lee hazelwood + nancy sinatra: some velvet morning (1969)

perhaps one of the most renowned lyricists of all time, lee hazelwood meets one of the most iconic faces and voices of all time - nancy sinatra. in a violin ridden song he sings of phaedra, a love, perhaps a vice. the music itself strings together the twos contrasting vocals like velvet, the song is smooth in its polarities. while sinatra sings her part with a voice like a fairy, hazelwood delivers his end with a heavy western-like atmosphere similar to many of his previous works. a thick, heavy bass follows him, while the chiming of bells trails behind sinatra like a long wedding dress. the song shifts from one side to the other wise ease, missing a mark that should have been met with the spontaneity of the shifts in vocals. though it does swing you from side to side, it does so with the casualness of a rocking chair outside on your front porch. at times, you wonder if these voices are too sophisticated for this task. there is a pleasant glaze over the song which diminishes the contrast. and much like david bowie's 'ziggy stardust,' we don't properly experience the chaos that is meant to be depicted. now, when this track is tossed over to life-long hazelwood lover and notorious wielder of uncontrollable guitar rowland s. howard and new york city's own queen of no wave and dismantlement lydia lunch - we get a very, very different take. instead of a rocking chair being moved by the wind, we get a madly swinging pendulumn unsure of which fate is to come. though we are introduced with similar heavy bass, the speed immediately picks up and howard's snarling vocals tear into the song with a sense of sarcasm - very different from the original sense of genuineness. lunch's end is met with the sound of an out of tune music box, with a voice that compliments the unconventionality of the music. as howard drawls on his verses, he delivers the name of 'phaedra' with a sense of animosity for the pain she causes him. and though lunch maintains the innocent sound, the underlying trickery is evident in her voice. here, all is revealed. there are no closed doors. the shift from one end to the other is abrupt, startling, and begins to feel like a direct argument unfolding before your eyes. the aladdin sane like piano near the end of the track takes us into a rabbit hole of confusion and emotional turmoil; a logical conclusion to a disagreement we had the misfortune of stumbling upon. the conflict between the two narrators is very evident in this version, as to where in the original it seemed much more like an innocent misunderstanding, here we see the raw bones of it. this wasn't a simple mistake, this was a downright shoot-em-up, and who better to depict this but two musicians with the same rawness and ferocity of a blood and guts western?

- LM

#lists

4 notes · View notes

barcastat · 7 years

Text

Santiago Bernabéu. Wednesday, April 27, 2011. Champions League semi-final

Mourinho deployed Pepe in the middle of a defensive midfield with Lassana Diarra and Xabi Alonso. His job was to do another ‘Terminator’ on Messi. Madrid left the grass long – three centimetres, rather than the one centimetre which Barcelona prefer. Barcelona’s players take that subject seriously. Skinhead playing surface, ball flying at the speed of a hockey puck – advantage to the quick, technical ball players. Grass like the fringes on a 1970s country and western suede jacket, slower moving ball, happy days for the hasslers, the hackers and the horrible, defensive football which so many employ to try and shackle Messi, Iniesta and Xavi. The latter commented: “It’s a great pity that there are no rules about the grass. In 2011 we have rules about earrings, the media, our shirts, but none regarding the grass which can make the match so much more entertaining, or end up causing injuries.” Madrid, the nine-time European champions, only managed 26% possession of the ball in their own stadium in the Champions League semi-final. Partly that was down to the visitors, partly to Mourinho’s game plan. El País is Spain’s leading quality daily – it wears no club colours. Their lead writer, José Sámano, put it like this: “With Pepe, Madrid refused to play. Without Pepe, they couldn’t play. Mourinho’s bugle call to his team has been to play these matches on the dark side. He did it in the league the other week and again last night. Neither time brought him a result and that would have been the only excuse for playing this way.” ‘Without Pepe’ refers to the straight red referee Stark showed the Portuguese whose straight leg, knee-high challenge on Dani Alves would only not have been an ordering-of had it been part of the ‘anything goes’ 1970 FA Cup final between Leeds and Chelsea – recommended viewing online. Mourinho was also red-carded for sarcastically mocking and applauding the refereeing team for the decision. Without Pepe to shackle him, Messi ran wild. His first goal came when Ibrahim Afellay made Marcelo look like a statue before crossing for Messi, who had eluded Xabi Alonso. The Argentinian’s second was one of the all-time great Champions League goals. Receiving possession from Busquets, near halfway, Messi left four Madrid players in his wake, dragging them along with him as if they were fish in a trawl net, and culminated the dribble by clipping the ball past Casillas. Gordon Strachan, the former Scotland, Aberdeen and Manchester United midfielder, who managed Celtic against Messi and Barcelona, was at the Bernabéu that night and called it “One of the greatest goals you’ll see from, in my opinion, the best footballer who has ever played the game.” Tito Vilanova made a shrewd comment when I spoke to him. I had thought the red card for Pepe utterly determining. He had a different perspective. “When Messi dribbles past six players, it’s not important whether the rivals have 10 or 11 men on the pitch – what’s important is that he’s dribbled past six opponents.” Plenty more went on, but those were the key moments. Few, amid the sound and fury, made much of the fact that Guardiola used eight products of the FC Barcelona youth system that night, the youngest of whom was the 19-year-old substitute, Sergi Roberto, who became the 19th canterano (academy trained youngster) to be given a debut by this coach since taking over in June 2008. Fewer than three full years, 19 new kids introduced to a team already packed full of home-bred talent. Utterly remarkable. Sadly, I have to record that there was horrendous racist chanting at Barcelona’s black players. Friends who were in the crowd at the Camp Nou the following week report that these shameful thing happened there. It is a blight on all football, but Spain isn’t fighting it properly. Post-match, Mourinho matched the rubbish he’d produced on the pitch. “Por qué?” he asked, over and over. “Why?” Although he didn’t quite froth at the mouth, it all felt a bit rabid. “If I were to speak my mind to UEFA and to the referee, then my career ends today.” He then named referees who he appeared to be accused of favouring Barcelona In previous fixtures: “Øvrebø, De Bleeckere, Busacca, Frisk, Stark… por qué?” Mourinho had compiled a list of decisions he felt had gone Barça’s way – mostly against his teams. Tom Henning Øvrebø turned down several Chelsea penalty claims in the 2009 Champions League semi-final; Frank De Bleeckere was the referee who sent of Inter’s Thiago Motta the Following year at the same stage; Massimo Busacca red-carded Robin van Persie of Arsenal in the last 16 in 2011; Anders Frisk goes all the way back to 2005 and a red card for Didier Drogba of Chelsea against Barça. Then he returned his focus to Stark and the match Barça had just won. “We’ll play the second leg without Pepe, who did nothing, without Ramos [whose yellow card resulted in a suspension] who did nothing. Without the coach. I only leave one question. Perhaps one day I’ll get an answer. It is: por qué? I don’t know whether it’s the UNICEF publicity. I don’t understand what Øvrebø did two years ago, what happened today or the miracle that took place last year for Inter. They killed us once again. Today it’s been demonstrated that we have no chance at all. We had a game plan which the referee wouldn’t let us use. I don’t know why. This football world sometimes makes me feel sullied. Today we saw that it’s not difficult – it’s mission impossible. And if by some chance we go ahead at the Camp Nou and make the tie a bit more open, well, they’ll kill us again. I would be ashamed to win games like Josep Guardiola – apparently it was disrespectful of me calling him Pep yesterday. The guy’s a fantastic coach, but he won his first Champions League after the scandal of Stamford Bridge – I’d be ashamed to win it that way – and if he wins this year, it’ll be after the scandal of the Bernabéu. He’s a great coach and a great person and that’s why hope that one day he manages to win a Champions League which isn’t tainted.” Just for the record, Guardiola’s reaction was: “A team with nine European Cups in its trophy cabinet will never give up. I’ve seen Madrid play a thousand times in my life, from when I was just a kid, and we all know what they’re capable of. Against any other team with a 0–2 result on the first leg, we’d be sitting pretty. Against this team that isn’t the case. We were already playing well when they had 11 men. Obviously it was easier when they were down to 10, but we had the situation under control before then.” Piqué added: “The first 60 minutes they didn’t attack at all and they were playing at home. When your football borders on out-and-out violence, it’s always going to end badly for you.” The criticism came not just from Barcelona. Guti, Madridista but at that time playing in Turkey, sided not with the incandescent Mourinho, but Guardiola: “Pep is a superstar; all my words about him are of respect and admiration, as much for his coaching as for how he played the game.” Then there was Cristiano Ronaldo. In the first 15 minutes at the Bernabéu, he had tried to press Barcelona and found that none of his colleagues had followed him. Waving his hands to the sky, he encouraged them to close down the Barça defenders high up the pitch – but they had their orders. After the match, Ronaldo was asked about Mourinho’s game plan: “For an attacking player like you, do you like the style of play this team uses?” He answered: “No, I don’t like it, but I have to adapt because that’s the way things are.” His goal had won them the Copa del Rey the previous week, his supply had been cut by Mourinho, not Wolfgang Stark, but for his comments he was dropped that weekend against Zaragoza(all his coach said it was because Ronaldo had had to play 10 against 11 for too long in the semi-final – 29 minutes). Madrid lost 3–2 in that match, allowing Barcelona to rest Puyol, Iniesta, Valdés, Villa, and Pedro for their own 2–1 defeat at Real Sociedad. It all meant that, ahead of the Champions League second leg and with each team lodging complaints with UEFA over the conduct of the other, the Catalans were eight points clear in La Liga, with four matches remaining.

[Barça, the making of the greatest team in the World by Graham Hunter.]

#fc barcelona #real madrid #pep guardiola #jose mourinho #lionel messi #gerard pique #sergio busquets #champions league #graham hunter

2 notes · View notes

kuro-me · 7 years

Text

Coincidence and Fate

What Hisao had been met with beyond that door had shattered him completely. Where once he had again found the resolve to survive, now he felt a sickening twist in the pit of his stomach that wormed its way into his very being. It had been difficult to identify what remained as any part of his clan, but some small trinkets lay scattered amidst the viscera and blood. Ones that he could not deny belonging to people he had once known, people who he had been meant to protect.

Now his failure as a leader was complete, in his mind, none remained to console or tell him otherwise. But despite being shattered by what he beheld, a new knot grew the join the sickening twist of shame and grief, one that spoke only of vengeance. So he had fled the complex, nothing driving him but the desire to one day avenge those he’d failed, even if it took him the rest of his meager life to do it. He ran and he ran, using all that he head learned and practiced to avoid Garlean patrols.

With his lungs burning in the chill of the night air, worsened still by the wet cold that clung to him after his swim across the river to reach wider Yanxia, he finally found his way into the ruins of a village since abandoned by its occupants. The home he took shelter in had no roof anymore and he could hear the patrols passing by, still searching for Caius van Ordus’ prize. At least they seemed fool enough to assume he wouldn’t duck into the ruined village, perhaps they thought it too obvious a hiding spot.

Incompetence certainly did benefit him at times like these.

Once he’d regained his breath and found some worth huddled under the remains of old blankets that looked as though they had at one time been quite pretty, he took in his surroundings a little more. Hisao wondered who might have lived there, his eyes briefly went to a far corner where sat a rack of katanas, so this had been the home of samurai before as the common folk were not allowed to carry such weapons unless loaned to them by samurai specifically for battle.

Pulling himself toward the rack he looked closer at it, removing a the shorter of the collection of weapons and slipping it slightly from its scabbard, the wakizashi was finely sharpened, though the blade had not been treated recently and so had some minor imperfections across its surface. Still, it would suffice for a weapon until he could get something else, something more his usual style. To be sure, he also picked up the small red scabbard tanto that had sat beside it.

“To whomever lived here, be you alive or dead,” he began aloud, kneeling and placing his hands together in prayer. “I thank and honour you for the gift of these weapons, that I might defend myself.”

As he went to return to the blankets he paused, spotting something on the floor which his foot nudged as he passed. Reaching down to pick it up, he lifted what seemed to be the shape of a bird, it was soft to the touch and clearly a child’s toy. Briefly he brushed some of the dust off it, it was hard to make out what kind of bird the toy had been on account of it being lightly charred in places; no doubt when the Garleans had put the home to the torch and destroyed the roof.

“Could be… a wren?” He mused, smiling sadly at the toy for a moment and hoping whoever it had belonged to had escaped the razing. “Or a finch.”

For a moment he looked at it, then carefully placed it on the remains of what seemed like it had been a small set of drawers. As he moved to sit and pull the blankets about himself, he stared at the toy in silence, somehow drawing in on it as if to take his mind off all else that went on around him.

“Oh!” He exclaimed quietly, not wanting to go alerting potential Garleans to him though he was quite sure they’d long passed by now. “Maybe it’s a sparrow.”

Quite pleased with his figuring it out, or assuming he had figured it out anyway based on the fact there were a fair few sparrows that lived in the region, he found himself falling slowly out of consciousness. He really did need to sleep, it’d been so long since he managed it without Ordus arriving and waking him for another attempt at breaking his will entirely, well the truth was of course that he’d managed just that. But Hisao would continue on, he’d cling to the knot of revenge in his stomach all he could.

The sleep was interrupted by the light of morning, and the sound of nearby footsteps that had started to grow closer, another patrol. Hisao cursed under his breath and quickly shook the grog of waking from his mind, he had to be alert or else he was surely doomed. Quickly he tucked the wakizashi and tanto into his belt, then slipped from the building while keeping to the shadows as best he could. As much as that knot in his stomach might have wanted him to, he had to stay his weapons for now, killing patrols would only alert Ordus as to the direction he was headed.

The journey to the west and to the ruins of what had been Yamanoie was a quiet one at least, Ordus no doubt had already sent patrols back to his hometown in case he went there but Hisao had to go back, to try and salvage at least some small part of his clan. He arrived early evening, the sun hanging lower in the sky but still with at least a couple of hours remaining for daylight. Sure enough he located the patrols sent as a precaution and likely ordered to wait him out just in case, dispatching them was easy he’d slain many Garleans like them.

It was sad though, slaying them while done in anger didn’t feel even a little satisfying, not like it had during the uprising when it was for the freedom of Doma. For now he decided to ignore the empty feeling and went walking through his hometown, or the husk of it that remained since the fires had long burned out. There still lay the charred remains of people he had once known, so he took to the grim work of gathering them and via the use of ninjutsu taught by those who lived in the mountains, moved the earth enough to bury them as was respectful.

Kneeling before the grave he had made, he prayed, called out to his ancestors and to the kami for the peaceful rest of those lost, but there was no answer as he had come to expect by now. Rising to his feet, night had long since come and so all that lit his way was the torch he had made from the remains of some timber and wrapped in charred cloth before lighting it up. He proceeded now into the town once more, toward what had been the Yamauchi estate, home to his parents and himself.

The building itself still stood, the fires hadn’t touched it much if at all though there were marks on its walls that indicated it’d come under barrage from Garlean firearms. Inside there was a mess, the Garleans had clearly looted the place but likely hadn’t found what they wanted, if anything. Hisao was just glad not to be walking in to see the corpses of his mother and father, no doubt they had been removed due to their position, likely presented to the Garlean whose army had destroyed Doma.

As he stood there in the square of the estate, he briefly clapped his free hand over his mouth and fought back a sob, hit by a surge of inevitable emotion at the sight of what had become of the place where he had lived and grown up. Memories of his parents filled his mind, his father the large but lovable brute of a man who despite his size and brawn, was far more intelligent and wise than those outside Yamanoie gave him credit for. His mother too, kind and patient, ever the gentle hand who had guided him and his father, the home keeper who came across as deceptively meek until you caught her ire.

The tears welled in his eyes but he fought them back, instead pushing on into the estate to find what he had come for, secrets only he knew to look for. Carefully he slipped aside the stand there his father’s armour had once sat, taken clearly to be worn in defence of the town at the end, then he slipped aside the painting behind it that depicted Yamanoie in the morning sunrise. Behind, he found the lever that opened the nearby bookcase, because it wouldn’t be a shinobi clan’s estate if things weren’t needlessly obtuse.

Hisao chuckled at the thought and the debates he’d had with his father on that very subject.

Behind the bookcase wasn’t a secret room however, only a secret compartment wherein lay three old but well kept scrolls, written on slats of wood bound together rather than paper which was a proper indication of their age. Hisao frowned, there were meant to be four scrolls but one was missing, how strange. But nobody had gone into the compartment, at least nobody who shouldn’t have, or else why not just take all of them? Why take one and leave the other three?

“Perhaps father or mother hid it…” He mused aloud, taking the three scroll and sipping them into an old looking satchel that had belonged to his mother for her herb collecting.

He question was; where? He had no idea why or where they might hide the fourth scroll, it seemed to him that it was one of the few things his father hadn’t confided in him, a secret perhaps meant for the lord of the Yamauchi that he could now no longer pass on. The thought hit him with a keen sorrow, as well as a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as the thought of being lord of the Yamauchi clan reminded him far too easily of the things Ordus had said and done to him.

Pushing the thoughts aside best he could, he slipped from the estate and made once more for the forest surrounding the town, lingering there wouldn’t do. He had buried his people, and collected what he knew his parents would have had him taken, including his ceremonial armour and blades which he had carefully packed away into their chest and slipped into the satchel which now bulged with all the things forced into it. He’d make now for the Ruby Sea to try and get passage to Kugane, from there he could flee Othard for now and then…

Well, he would figure that out later.

Hisao slept in a cave deep within the forest that night, knowing what routes the Garlean patrols would take if they went to check on their now dead comrades, he felt safe enough to do so. The next day he set off again, heading southeast toward the Ruby Sea where he could try and get passage to the city of Kugane where the Garleans would not be able to touch him due to the strict laws, and where he could try and get passage from sympathetic souls who hated the Garleans to elsewhere. Thavnair perhaps, or even Eorzea.

The weight of leaving home under those circumstances was hard to bare, so much so that his shoulders dropped with each step he took, until the cold acceptance of the fact he would likely never be able to return set in. He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat, he would not shed tears over this, he had sworn in his prayers over the bodies of his clan that he would not grieve until they were avenged. Not truly, anyway. No, the tears for them would have to wait until he stood over Ordus’ body, then and only then could he let go.

Journeying to the Ruby Sea was easy enough, gaining passage to Kugane was just as easy, there were still some among the Confederacy that sympathized with Domans who were displaced by the uprising. But Kugane itself was overwhelming, he was a young man from the mountains and the forests, the town of Yamanoie was decent in size but it was no city. The sounds and the lights were near blinding and deafening at first, he had to take a moment to orient himself, especially with his right eye flitting every direction as if with a mind of its own.

“Breathe…” He told himself, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth in several controlled breaths.

He felt vulnerable, he’d used the wakizashi to bartner his passage, partially because it was a fine blade but also because if he was caught carrying the weapon of a samurai when he himself was not he would be in serious trouble in Kugane. The tanto remained on his person however, carefully tucked away inside his short where it would remain hidden from all, just in case. There were also the ceremonial blades in his satchel, but there were not meant for general use, they were special and not to be wielded casually.

Once he’d gotten himself oriented again, Hisao made his way toward the first establishment he came across, the Shiokaze Hostelry where he found himself bombarded with a myriad of different languages he couldn’t understand. But garnering passage on a ship proved far easier than he’d expected, though he wasn’t entirely sure he liked the look of the crew that would be granting him passage. They spoke the language, told him that it was a merchant vessel, but he was no fool and was sure there was more to these people that they were letting on.

Still, despite that he didn’t find them to be dishonest per say, and they claimed to be ferrying Doman refugees for free to Limsa Lominsa on the continent of Eorzea. Well, if it turned out to be a trap then they’d be in for a nasty surprise, he came across as just another poor and destitute Doman survivor- which technically he was- but he was far more than that and he wouldn’t be taken advantage of so easily. It was his good fortune though, that despite these people being pirates, they were very much Limsan pirates through and through, and thus he would not become a victim of some trick.

The journey was silent for his part however, he spent much of it locked up in his cabin where he tried to bring some order to the chaos in his mind, perhaps reach for a spark of the old Hisao deep down. He had no family, no clan, no money, and no possessions with a damn save the few he’d managed to salvage. He was the lord of nothing, but he had his name, Hisao Yamauchi, that would be enough for him.

It would have to be.

Funny really, how several years later he finally felt some semblance of his old self coming back to him, yet the name was gone. Yoshiro lay silently staring at the ceiling in the dark, it wasn’t that he couldn’t sleep and the warmth of Hiina’s body beside him made it more than comfortable for him to do so, his mind was just occupied by so many things that he was trying to figure out. Her presence always made figuring them out easier, so really laying awake while she slept soundly against him was when he did his best thinking these days.

When he had arrived in Eorzea, he had been an empty shell of himself, but since meeting her that shell had steadily filled out again. As each shattered piece was pushed back into place, he found himself feeling more and more as he once had, confident and self-assured. But there was a piece that he knew she couldn’t put back into place, it wasn’t that her love wasn’t enough, or that he didn’t love her enough. It was that the final piece lay in the hands of another, or more specifically, it wrested upon the death of another. One day Ordus would fall at his hand, and he knew she would be there beside him, possibly even helping him to hold the knife that ended it.

Soon things were going to come to a head, and once it was over he could let out all that he’d held back, just a little while longer. His arms around Hiina unconsciously tightened a little as his head leaned toward hers, shutting his eyes so that he could finally allow sleep to take him.

Not long now.

#yoshiro #yoshiro ametsuchi #yamanoie #yamauchi #hiina #hiina kusakari

2 notes · View notes