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spicycreativity · 3 years

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A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 1

Chapter: 1/7 Rating: T (for language) Content Warnings: Canon-typical Remus behavior. This chapter only: "delusional" used as an insult Characters: All Pairings: N/A Additional Tags: Canon divergence, post-AA, retcon (name reveals, outfits, etc), all characters sympathetic, misunderstandings, Virgil is trying his best, Dark Sides are friends dammit, gratuitous references to Cats the Musical Summary: After Virgil is accepted by the Light Sides, he hopes to use his newfound position to bring Janus and Remus up with him. Hurt by his perceived betrayal, they push him away before he even has the chance to try. Virgil does his best to adjust to life without his oldest friends, but misunderstandings abound, and he soon finds himself going behind the Light Sides' backs in attempt to keep them safe from what he fears is a wicked revenge plot orchestrated by Janus.

It was hard to breathe in the basement. The air was heavy, thick with tension, and Virgil’s breaths came in uneven gasps and shallow paroxysms that made his lungs ache. He sat, paralyzed, on the couch with his legs drawn up to his chest, his eyes glued to his phone.

Janus’ snide congratulation still echoed in his head, the way his voice had dripped with jealousy: “Congratulations on your newfound acceptance, Virgil. You earned it.”

Virgil resented the way Janus’ words had implied that his decision to duck out had been nothing more than a successful attempt at manipulating the ‘Light’ Sides, as they called themselves, when they both very well knew that Virgil’s actions had been in earnest. Virgil’s unhappiness with his role had always been a point of contention between them. It wasn’t just about having his voice heard, no matter how hard Janus tried to pretend that was it; Virgil had grown to genuinely care for Roman, Logan, and Patton, and he wanted to spend time with them that didn’t involve antagonizing and scaring them.

Of course, Remus found that nearly intolerable, but he was far more direct than Janus could ever be. He teased Virgil and demanded assurances that Remus was his favorite Creativity and always would be, and Virgil gladly gave him what he wanted. But lately, the teasing had grown more intense and less enjoyable, and Janus’ remarks grew more cutting and bitter with every additional hour that Virgil spent upstairs. He had taken to avoiding the topic altogether in the hopes of somehow skating past the unpleasantness, hoping that Remus and Janus would eventually get used to Virgil’s new habits.

The sound of knocking pierced the silence and kicked Virgil’s pulse into overdrive. He was in motion before he even registered what was happening, vaulting off the couch toward the stairs. His mind caught up with his body just before his hand touched the doorknob and he made a concentrated effort to calm himself down. Three semi-deep breaths. One hand smoothing down his hair. Then he opened the door.

On the other side stood Logan, wearing his usual neutral expression. Earlier in their relationship, Virgil had mistaken it for perpetual boredom, but he knew better now. Logan was always thinking, and spared little energy on social graces.

“Hello, Virgil,” he said, nodding shortly. No trace of eyeshadow lingered on his face, but Virgil couldn’t help the guilt that twisted in his stomach at the memory. Maybe Logan was here to end their friendship.

“Hey, Logan.” Virgil glanced over his shoulder in case Janus or Remus had come to interfere. He saw no sign of either of them, but that only meant that they weren’t going to meddle. It certainly didn’t mean they weren’t listening. “You good?”

Logan paused before answering, thinking back to his flashcards. “Yes, Virgil. I’m gucci.” Virgil clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter and Logan continued, unperturbed, “I’m here to invite you to dinner.”

“Really?” Virgil asked,

“Yes. Is that surprising?”

“Unexpected,” Virgil said, unsure if he was agreeing or disagreeing. “Now?”

“Yes. Unless you have something you need to attend to.”

Virgil spared one last glance over his shoulder. It wasn’t like he was planning on eating with Janus and Remus tonight anyway; Janus was totally-not-sulking and Remus was… Well, Virgil didn’t know the details, but the bangs and the haunted-house shrieks emanating from Remus’ room indicated that he was definitely unavailable. “Now’s fine.”

“Excellent.” Logan smiled at Virgil. “Shall we?”

Virgil nodded and followed Logan into the living room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

While the living room and the kitchen were technically common areas, Virgil hadn’t spent much time in either of them. The basement had a kitchenette, a TV, and a couch, and all its inhabitants vastly preferred that over the idea of a strained ceasefire with the Lights. Of the three of them, only Virgil had been able to let go of his resentment and insert himself into the Lights’ regular meetings on Thomas’ conduct and decisions. Still, he didn’t exactly feel at ease as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

Patton’s joyous salutations and Roman’s begrudging regards were enough to pull Virgil out of his own head. He let Roman pull up a chair for him and nodded hesitantly when Patton offered to serve him.

He heaped an unreasonable amount of tuna casserole on Virgil’s plate and beamed at him. “So, uh Anxiety.” His smile wavered a bit. “We just wanted to apologize again for being so…”

“Put off by your off-putting demeanor,” Roman supplied before he could stop himself. Everyone looked at him and he almost doubled down before catching himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Go on, Patton.”

“Well, for being so harsh,” Patton said. “We didn’t realize how important you were to Thomas’ functioning.”

“I did,” Logan said under his breath. Roman flicked a pea at him.

Patton only had eyes for Virgil. “Um, anyway, we’re sorry. We value you a lot and we’d absolutely love it if you spent more time with us!”

Virgil nodded, thinking about the display of monitors and VHS tapes in his room. Much like the others, his mere presence was usually enough to keep Thomas on track, but sometimes he utilized the cameras to allow him to focus on specific aspects of Thomas’ surroundings to keep an eye out for danger. And sometimes , when he was feeling bored or unheard, he would pop “ Cringe Compilation: 7th Grade Edition” into his VHS player. They all had power focuses that linked inherently to their function, allowing them to magnify it as necessary. But when the Lights felt that Virgil’s function was impeding their own to an unacceptable degree, they would push back, and Virgil’s monitors would go black as all the lights dimmed. It was the same for Janus' and Remus' focuses and it hurt . “So does this mean you’re going to stop repressing me?” Virgil asked. The Lights didn't know the extent of the damage they did, and Virgil was determined not to be the one to break the news.

Patton nodded. “We’ll try to help you work through your feelings instead.”

“Wow.” Virgil’s cheeks ached with a smile he was fighting hard to suppress. Maybe there was hope for Remus and Janus too. “What about Dec--”

“Anyway!” Patton said, pretending he hadn’t heard Virgil speak. “We were thinking about watching a movie after this! We do weekly movie nights. Do you want to join?”

“Oh, um.” Virgil tapped the nail of his middle finger against the pad of his thumb. He wanted to push for acceptance for Janus and Remus, but what if that made Patton and the others angry? What if they kicked him out? Then he would be right back to square one. Maybe if he played it smart , if he was patient and good, then he could help his friends out too. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Yay!” Patton clapped his hands. “We already decided to watch Anastasia tonight, but we should let you pick the next one!”

Logan launched into an explanation of the historical context of Anastasia, punctuated by the occasional interruption from Roman. Virgil was content enough to sit back and listen to the bickering, interjecting every now and again to take Roman down a peg.

When it came time to say goodnight, Roman cornered Virgil in front of the basement door wearing an unusually serious expression.

“I need to talk to you.”

Virgil leaned against the wall, taking pains to sound more nonchalant than he felt. “Gee, Princey, I’d have thought you’d be better at love confessions.”

“Oh, spare me,” Roman said, sticking out his tongue. “This is important.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting.”

“Patton wants you to move upstairs.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, taken aback. “ Oh.” He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. “I-- Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know Patton won’t,” Roman said, impatient. Virgil hooked his thumbnail under one of his canine teeth and bit down, thinking. He wasn’t sure how to say no without stepping out of line. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to say no. Roman continued, “And I… Well, I--” he ran hand through his hair-- “I see your value now.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Virgil sneered, hoping that Roman would pick up on his teasing.

But to Virgil’s surprise, Roman blushed. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I think you’re pretty alright, Anxiety. I want you to move upstairs, too.”

Virgil took a deep breath, screaming internally all the while. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to leave Janus and Remus, but he didn’t want to turn down Roman’s offer, either. He couldn’t have it both ways. What was the middle ground here? He stared right through Roman, panic wiping his mind blank.

“You do want to, don’t you?” Roman asked. He hated how unsure his voice sounded, even to his own ears. Surely Virgil didn’t enjoy living with that two-faced snake and Remus.

“Of course I do!” Virgil hissed, trying to shout without actually raising his voice.

“Then what’s the problem? Say yes!”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Seems plenty simple to me. We’re extending a hand to you, Anxiety, the least you could do is take it.”

“I need to think about it,” Virgil said. Surely Janus and Remus would understand if he just explained himself. Janus might even approve . It wasn’t as sneaky and duplicitous as Janus’ plans usually were, but Virgil wasn’t Deceit. And he was working with the tools at hand. They had to understand that.

Roman threw his hands up. “Fine. I don’t know what there is to think about, but I suppose overthinking comes naturally to you.” He sighed and shook his head. “I guess that’s it, then. Good night, Anxiety.”

“Night, Roman.” Virgil heaved a sigh of his own and opened the door to the basement. The air was cool and still. Virgil ordinarily found it pleasant, but tonight the chill went bone-deep and made him shudder. He zipped his hoodie as high as it would go and shoved his hands into the pockets. He watched his feet as he descended the stairs and remained so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice Janus and Remus on the couch until Janus cleared his throat.

Both Remus and Janus were glowering. Virgil ducked his head like a guilty teenager, trepidation closing like a fist around his stomach. He knew a trap when he saw one, and the fact that Janus wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it meant that he was well and truly furious.

Virgil sat down in the armchair lateral to the couch and glowered right back. “What?”

“I have to say I’m impressed with you, Virgil,” Janus said in his usual silken drawl, aiming straight for Virgil's heart. “I knew fear was part of your function, but you’ve reached a truly unprecedented level of cowardice.”

Virgil exhaled slowly through his nose. “You don’t mean that.”

“And how can you be so sure? Because friends don’t turn on each other ad libitum?"

“I’m not turning on you!” Virgil insisted. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I have a plan?”

“You told Roman you wanted to move upstairs,” Remus said once he’d unclenched his jaw. They all knew Virgil abhorred lying both morally and from a practical perspective; it made him almost too anxious to function. “You’d choose them over us.”

“They’re listening to me now!” Virgil tried to explain. He could forgive Janus his judgement, forgive Remus his anger even now if they would just listen . It was all a misunderstanding. “They even said they’d leave my cameras alone. Maybe I can get them to do the same for you.” Vigil scratched at the fabric of his jeans. “I thought-- Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same, Janus. I know you would.”

“If I could tolerate the presence of those delusional do-gooders in concentrated doses, maybe so,” Janus said. “With one key difference. Even if I could forgive them for what they did to me, I could never forgive them for what they did to you and Remus. Every smile, every last moment of camaraderie would be. an. artifice.”

“We’re supposed to be family, Virgil,” Remus added. “And now you want to leave us for… what, a chance for a roll in the royal hay with Roman? Patton?”

“So what, you want me to be just as petty and miserable as you two for the rest of my life?” Virgil demanded, heat rising in his chest. “Forget it. I’m trying to do something nice for you, the thing you’ve been fighting for since you got branded as ‘Dark’ Sides. If you can’t recognize that, that’s your own fault. I’m going to bed.” He got up and strode out of the room without another word.

“Traitor!” Remus called after him.

Silence fell. The refrigerator started to hum.

“He’s going to get hurt,” Janus muttered, tapping his knuckles against his bottom lip.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #this is my first time cross-posting my writing to tumblr im so nervous hhhh #spicywrites #idk what would be best for people trying to find other chapters in the future ummm maybe a special tag #spicywrites a place where i can breathe #that works #credits:#pics are from unsplash #the virgil cosplayer is my roommate #im his primary online presence so it's rly not worth it to tag his other accounts lmao #you can follow him on tiktok as patchwork.boy if youre into that

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darkpotatorises · 3 years

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So i had my first taste of Red Dead Online yesterday. Coming in knowing the experiences other people had with it and having already experienced GTAV Online, I got in with very low expectations. A watered down, mere shell of Single Player experience, A soulless husk with content hidden behind countless hours of grinding or optional paywall. After roughly 12-15 hours of gameplay with huge reservations towards the game, i have discovered that it actually has a potential greater than GTAV in which i sank hundreds of hours of my life previously, just so i could say that i have self sustaining economy at least in a virtual world and a yacht. Let me start with some pros before dwelling into well known cons. Surprisingly, Western third person open world games are even harder to find than Pirate ones. (I’m looking at you Pirates of the Burning Sea *softly smooches it*) Pirates have been getting some love over the last few years, However Wild west always stayed in the realm of single player games and an occasional First Person Shooter. But we all know FPS’s can’t be immersive or often as vast of content as open world multiplayer games could. (*snickers in ERP tone) Making it a unique game that you can currently grab for aa entry frag of 4.99 euros. The content that it’s providing right now is well worth it, and a good investment considering the price will be rising 5 times. I just hope the content and care for the game rises just as much. On a more subjective note i must say how satisfying killing someone feels... In a game!.. Of course i meant in a game. While the world is devoid of great story and characters, it’s gameplay is still present, making it the only multiplayer shooter i actually enjoy playing with my gamepad. Now i’m gonna make a pretty questionable remark here even to myself as i highly enjoy more linear and story driven single player experience more than Empty huge Open worlds every new yearly Far Cry, Rainbow Six or anything Bethesda’s planning to ruin next, are providing. That being said those same huge storiless open worlds provide you a blank canvass only limited by your own imagination. There are people that you can meet out there in that wide wild west, things that you’re gonna do differently just because someone nudged you to... (*Insert that moment when he cleaned the whole camp full of Lemoyne Raiders only to be noticed by another stranger, who inquisitively and a bit scared asked about what transpired, visibly worried for the departed folk...While explaining him how they were bad men, i noticed they were guarding a lawman tied up and gagged, looking more scared of being noticed than relieved of being saved... I brought his presence to this new passerby, asking him if he might have any idea of what i should do with him? He replied in a manner of telling a short story with a surprising twist... “Well i’d untie him and then i’d blow his brains out”. It was at that moment, the lawman’s fate was sealed. I took my knife out, cut the rope and grabbed the surprised officer in blue that for the first time during the whole ordeal looked relieved for a moment...*The gunshot sound* This wouldn’t be possible in linear handholding experience every mission of single player was. The NPC wouldn’t be programmed to push you and make decision like that on a whim. I noticed lately is that any game can be enjoyed as much as you let it entertain you. So instead of getting polarized right from the start by looking into reviews such as this. In a perfect world one should experience the game first, and be the judge of its shortcomings, if he even notices them in the first place. Now lets get into the really gritty business. You get an abysmally low amount of money and gold pieces. Throwing accent on gold pieces as they are the main form of unlocking majority of the content hidden behind roles of: The Collector, Naturalist, Bounty Hunter, Trader and Moonshiner. You need to pay a hefty amount of hard earned gold to buy any of this roles that you can earn back only by picking Bounty Hunter first as it’s the only role that earns you gold. Picking anything else would set you back to square 0. The system isn’t perfect. Not for the player. There’s a CEO out there laughing every time some poor tortured soul gets bored of grinding and goes for its Debit Card to buy some Gold Bars instead. There’s a positive thing about the value of Gold though, This game has a battle pass that became a staple of every multiplayer game. While it’s usually associated with Free to play games, as one of the sources of the income, It’s getting quite prominent shamelessly in top tier $60 games. Red Dead Online however lets you get the premium content of the Battle Pass for 40 Gold Bars. Now while its very welcome having this option present, It would be even more tolerable with the introduction of more Gold making methods. Which brings me to the state of game it is in now. Anyone who played GTA Online knows how broken the netcode is. RDO is unfortunately the same in that regard. During my 15 hours I have encountered 1 whitescreen glitch, 2 hackers and a lot of empty lobbies for game modes nobody plays. Which is probably because they tried playing it with insufficient amount of people for them to shine through. While some of them could be just pure trash... Like the train chasing, capture the wagon mode that instead working like king of the hill, where everybody is working together to overtake one overpowered player, here while doing that, other players work against each other too... Which makes it god awful considering everybody is spawning on same place near the moving train where it becomes Spawn Kill Simulator. Right now, Read Dead Online is in that stage before even getting its heists. It’s in its infancy. The Dark Age. My hopes are that enough people gets the $6 version of the game (Including those who already bought it once on console and want to secure the future of the game, and any new updates they might be having in store) Cause we all know GTAV is gonna get rere-released for at least 2 more console generations so why not just get it on PC and be done with it. Maybe united under one platform Rockstar finally starts paying attention to it as much as to its older cash cow brother. Recently i had a luck of experiencing tv show called Deadwood. If you’re not particularly into Westerns, but you loved Red Dead Redemption 2, and can’t find anything that fills that void in any other media i highly recommend you trying to get into it as it was the first thing that filled mine. That sounded dirty... Anyhow in that show people aspire to be Prospectors. I think that would be the perfect role for Red Dead Online. You must have encountered a person who struck gold trying to run away from you while hiding his nugget.Just imagine the possibilities....Working your own Mineral Deposit with a chance of Gold. Cause god knows having a working Gold claim would be too good to be true. Mining could either be another thing, we have a shovel, you might as well give us a Pickaxe. It could be either incorporated in the role of Prospector or its own thing... Miner > Prospector, Kinda like how Trader and Moonshiner work now. Another chance of getting gold bars would be by preforming HEISTS. In GTA Online’s Casino Heist, you have a chance of getting more valuable score than cash. Those are Art, Diamonds and GOLD. You take literal gold bars and put ‘em in your bag. Imagine how awesome would that be in RDO. Making robbing banks, freighters even goddamn trains all the more repeatable and invaluable. These are all dreams in best case scenario whatsoever. Now excuse me, I gotta go feed my pets, And i might turn this into a Youtube video.

#Red Dead Redemption 2 #Red Dead Online

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erhiem · 3 years

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Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Cuckoo Mess Anges D Mode! ‘What’s in fashion?’ You are welcome here. What a stylish seven days have been! This week, as of now, we’re bringing you our go-to picks on the best shows, including Matthew Williams’ double whammy, a dispatch from New York’s totally popping New York, and all you need to know about BALENCIAGA’s Instagram black-out. is required !!! Crazy, we know! Read on to find out what’s in fashion.

Photography ryan o’toole. Image courtesy of Bianca Saunders

Raise a glass to Bianca Saunders!

As you’re certainly well aware, fashion awards season is underway. Following the announcement of Matty Bowen’s double win at the International Woolmark Awards a few weeks ago, we now turn to the ANDAM Awards, great lady List of French fashion awards instituted by Nathalie Dufour. This year’s final seven were basically a hit list of some of our favorite talents – Bianca Saunders, Casablanca, Aria, Ludovic de Saint Cernan, Roch, GmbH and Grace Wells Bonner – so whoever took home the €300,000 cash from Balenciaga CEO Injections and Sal’s advice from Cedric Charbitt would have been totally deserved. Given the nature of fashion contests, though, there can only be one winner, and this year — after blown up the panel with her upcoming SS22 collection — Bianca Saunders scooped up the main gong! She said on the announcement, “I cannot express in words how thrilled I am to receive such a prestigious award and I am truly honored.” “Consulting with such a major player in the industry, as well as financial support like this, will really help me grow my business and realize my lifelong dream – establishing Bianca Saunders as a global fashion brand. ” A dream we are sure will come true. M / s

Image courtesy of Acne Studio

Acne Paper launches new book

Earlier this week, Acne Studios gave us the . took a trip down memory lane with the launch of acne paper, a book that celebrates the legacy of Acne Studios’ brief but remarkable time in the editorial arena. To celebrate the occasion, we asked Thomas Persson, the magazine’s former editor-in-chief, to tell us the stories behind some of the most iconic moments from its collection. If that doesn’t convince you to see it, we should also add that the 560-page coffee-table tome also includes a portfolio by photographer Christopher Smith and new essays by Sarah Mower, Vince Aletti, and Robin Muir. More than just a nostalgic return to the world of fashion editorials, it’s a priceless window before social and digital media took over the game. KK

Photos courtesy of Hunza G, Chromat and ISA Boulder

Designers pushing swimwear

It’s a new world, darling! And after this summer, if your wardrobe isn’t spacious, exuberant, and eco-conscious, you can’t sit with us. Luckily, these four swimwear brands; Issa Boulder, Chromat, KNWLS and Hunza G are here to redefine what it means to be ‘bikini-ready’, showing you what can actually reduce your impact on the planet while still Aa fab beach look is pulling off. From Isa Boulder’s pursuit of what it means to be “oddly sexy” to an appreciation of chromate’s curves, cellulite, and scars, to bikinis made from recycled Lycra yarn, these new jean labels are defying conventions and their own rules. are making. Read more here. KK

Balenciaga logs off

Eight years ago, Phoebe Philo said that “the best thing is when you don’t exist at Google.” Her adage still holds, although if the recent antics of some of fashion’s biggest players are to be noted, the best thing to do today is when you’re not on Instagram. Following in the footsteps of his Kering stablemate Bottega Veneta, Balenciaga has cleaned up his Instagram account! And in case that wasn’t drama enough for you, they have done so just days before the much-anticipated fashion revival of Demna!! fashion gasp!!! Unfortunately, we don’t know more from you what that means, but the timing and the fact that the account itself goes live will mean a big fucking moment is in store. And much more to keep your eyes glued to your screen fast! xoxo M / s

Alex Takes a Moody Beach Trip

Think about a trip to the beach, but make it appealing. Matthew Williams did just that to present his latest collection for 1017 ALYX 9SM’s, “BEYOND.” In a Brody movie, the American designer took us on a surreal sci-fi trip to the shores of Planet Alix and fielded a rich collection with hippie-inspired styling, futuristic textures, and oversized hoodies. A colorful bikini with matching leggings, a structured double-layered hoodie, distressed jersey, soft cotton dress with twist and knot details, and an armor-like leather moto jacket, it was a perfect synthesis of fantasy, comfort, and wearability—one that Just what we all want from a post-pandemic look! KK

Givenchy Resort in Paris Was About an American

Think your schedule is packed? Well, imagine what Matthew Williams must have looked like! Long booked and busy, these past seven days the California-based designer created the Alyx . left my latest collection for and A whole ‘Nother One for Givenchy! In his latest outing for a Parisian home, he decided to focus on the spaces he calls home. “In my collection, I always speak to living reality,” he says. “For Spring 2022, our first pre-collection runway show, I wanted to bring together my American roots and my brand new life in Paris.” Here, a sense of transatlantic cross-pollination came through strong in the pieces, suggesting a unique sense of Parisian chic – think high-collared dresses with armor-like leather sleeves and cut-out slinky evening dresses. Jacket – street and quirky with a healthy dash to American. “There is an energy to strike out for a new adventure, of creating something familiar yet completely new,” says Matthews, a key vehicle for that sense of newness is his collaboration with Seattle-born, Mexico-based artist Chito. , whose looks, accessories and even expressive graphics feature on the Rimowa suitcase. Chapeau, Matthew! Who doesn’t love an American in Paris! M / s

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Gauntlet Cheng takes to New York at night

New York, New York, it’s one hellish city… and it’s back! In fact, as you may have seen on your screen when all the elite fashion lesbians in town together livestreamed Madonna crawling over a bar and bubbly (we love it!), the Big Apple is alive and kicking once again. is killing. There are very few people, however, more thrilled to see life return to their streets than Esther Gauntlett and Jenny Cheng, the combined force behind — you guessed it — Gauntlett Cheng, and stylist and photographer Thistle Brown. In fact, they’re so excited that they even paid tribute to the lively night spirit of their newly-revived hometown in their recent campaign, featuring none other than Coco Gordon Moore. Here, all three of us need to know about the photos, what they missed most about New York at night, and their post-wax party essentials. M / s

hi friends! For those not familiar with Gauntlet Cheng, quickly tell us the story behind the brand, and how you work together. Esther Gauntlet: Jenny and I met about 7 years ago while interning together at Eckhaus Latta. Our first shoot with thistle was in 2018 at a love motel in New Jersey. We connected immediately and realized that he really understood our clothes and the way we work.

And for those of us not in New York right now, tell us: What’s the atmosphere like? like: It’s just honestly crazy. The roads are completely packed and there is a kind of mental energy everywhere. We shot it in Times Square on a Saturday night and I assumed it would be quiet – theaters are still closed and that was before a lot of restrictions were lifted. It was really wild though – people on ATV bikes, people everywhere and kids taking prom pictures. I feel like we were all a lot more excited and excited out there.

thistle brown: New York is definitely back, alive and kicking!

jenny cheng: Plus, it’s hot in New York right now, and we’re all reconnecting and embracing each other despite the stickiness.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

What is the story behind the campaign? TB: I moved back to NYC after living in New Zealand (where I grew up) for a few months. I think I leaned back on my teen melancholy albums while I was there. I couldn’t stop listening to PJ Harvey City Stories, Sea Stories. The album is a love song for NYC, it’s about being young and open to a city that treats you like an unlikely lover. When the girls asked me to shoot something, I thought we needed to shoot in the thick of it, to bring back the lights and all those vibes of Manhattan.

JC: We wanted to capture a classic New York City look, but with a sense of newness – a spring energy.

What made Coco Gordon Moore your ideal star? TB: I’ve always been inspired by Coco’s mystery, grace and spontaneity. There’s something so outspoken about her while at the same time having a delicate sensibility. To be honest, I could make a book about cocoa.

like: Coco has an incredible energy – everything came alive on her but she really looks home.

JC: Totally, Coco is a star! It was great to see the synergy between thistle, cocoa and the city. It was so magical and so energizing, especially when Coco’s curls were open.

There is quite a sensual, nocturnal energy to the images. What have you missed the most about NYC nightlife? like: I missed the ease of it. The feeling of walking on a hot summer night and you can bump into anyone, and anything can happen.

JC: I used to remember those holiday parties we would throw where we would dress up and see all our friends. Hopefully we can do another one soon.

TBI think New York nightlife is now beyond a relic, we’ve realized that the city can’t function without it. We have a lot of friends who depend on it for income too, so it’s really important that we don’t forget how special it really is.

Photography thistle brown. Image courtesy of Gauntlet Cheng

Tell us about the night Coco is going out. where is she going? Who is she looking at? like: I think there’s a certain undoing in the photos, like she’s going out and coming back from something. It feels like she sorts herself in the big city but is at home and at ease there.

JC: She doesn’t have a plan, she’s taking everything in it, taking it as it goes, feeling a little flirty.

TB: She is just doing her job, looking lost but never alone. Making moves and eventually landing the right party.

Finally, what are your top five post-pandemic New York nightlife? E: Time to wear a dress again! A bag that can fit a bottle of wine you’ll probably drink by the river. The people you love. People you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s only four, but don’t think you really need more than that…

J: Shooting hoops in the park in the evening, eating chips and walking on the river with friends, wearing beach-ready clothes, rose water mist, and feeling sexy in no time.

T: Chapstick, bike at night, showing skin, dancing in the streets or on the river, and smooching crushes you couldn’t catch before.

The post Balenciaga’s black-out and New York’s big return: What’s in fashion? appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.

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mdarwin · 4 years

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I Was Here - Spring 2018

I Was Here

With lyrics copyright Bob Dylan, 1962; Loggins & Messina, 1971; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, 1970

You lost your mind. You lost twenty dollars one time when you needed it most; you lost your favorite dress the next year; you lost your glasses the night you lost your virginity, that winter when the world was gaining on you. You lost the home you lived in. You lost your shit every summer. You lost your first love and you lost, the second time, as well. You lost a Prada bag, and then you found it in the trash. You lost hope; you lost teeth. I saw you lose your teeth. And don’t forget you lost control, track of time, and once or twice you lost sight. You lost your mind; I was there.

You were a genetic victor who lost everything she had the spring the virus spread in North America. Your country was first to fall, and in six days there were no countries left; in seven, no survivors left to tell you. There were busses; there were boats. There were emergency procedures; there were bombs, panic, everyone weak. The illness was in the water but became airborne, at which point the world held its breath, or maybe it was just winded. The walking bodies bled from their pores, dropped limbs from the rot, and when the angry organism of the end times reached the brains of the walking bodies, the howling began. You listened to a wailing world from indoors, and you hugged your knees and wailed yourself. But you, you did not bleed. I was there; you did not bleed.

By the time the TV went silent, the anchors you knew had been replaced, then even newer faces were itemizing what they knew about the Banshee Plague and saying it’d taken half the planet’s people, but never admitting the curtain was falling on the final act of man. You were not told but rather shown, that week, that mortality reached a statistical one hundred percent. You were alone; I was there, but you were alone.

The week the world ended, there were fires and fucking in the streets. The grid went down: no maintenance. You saw a body drop to the ground from a window, cradling two smaller, swaddled bodies. You had seen a fearful vengeance in the eyes of presidents and neighbors; with no hope left, it turned out man never did default to love. You saw disease; you saw hope estranged, you saw power collapse, you saw futures erased. When a species goes extinct on a planet passing through, does it make a sound? It did; you were there. Man wailed through the space of that week when the world of man fell. I was there; I heard you hear it fall.

Your heart beating out of your chest, you checked your mother’s home. She was gone. You stood up from her bedside where her body lay and your muscles did not fail you; strong, you stood up from the chair by her bedside. You walked the Queensboro bridge to check on your girl; your laughing, loyal girl. Along the way you checked faces, but by the time you saw the half of hers that was left, you said ‘no more faces.’ No one was left; you didn’t need to see it. Nothing was coming back. You walked home; through the quiet streets, I walked you home.

It had been torrential fear, but for only a week, and then such a sudden silence that no one could have ever known. Did you hear me in the stillness when you packed pills, bandages, combat boots for your fated trek north in this, the apocalypse of the Anthropocene? Had anyone heard me in the stillness after the Cretaceous? And when Pangea fell, in all that noise, do you think anyone heard me? You hear it now, in your sleep sometimes, noise as dense as wet velvet, meters thick. You hear me now. You hear me, child.

The odor of death was as solid as a wall, on the streets outside after the plague, as you raided pharmacies until you got to the open road. From the bookstore in midtown you added to the pack you carried the Physician’s Desk Reference; the Boy Scout Handbook; Gödel, Escher, Bach; A Brief History of Time. You ate the fruits that Whole Foods left in the extinction; you ate bulk nuts. You packed dark chocolate and vitamins. You gathered hydrogen peroxide, Dr Bronner’s, a water purifier. On the outskirts of the city you collected a can opener and packs of AAs. From the hip of what was once an officer, you took a gun.

When you found a map and readied yourself for the north, you stayed the night in a liquor store where someone, once, had stationed a battery-operated CD player, and you put yourself to sleep with rum and Bob Dylan and the tears he brought, bitter for the world and sweet for the silence that became your company. I lived in that silence, and also in the sounds that pierced it. “Look out your window and I’ll be gone / You’re the reason I’m travelin’ on / Don’t think twice, it’s alright.” It was me; I was there. We lived there together.

With your boots and your bullets and a belly full of pancakes you made on a dead man’s gas range, you were the face of fortitude, and you marched west listing north. Cars lined the roads, surely half-tanked, but they weren’t an A train and you didn’t know how to make them move. And so we walked; I moved my feet in yours. You found your antipsychotics in pharmacy after pharmacy, and you spared some room in your pack for vicodin, xanax, and penicillin. You twisted your ankle going after that pack when it slid down a bramble-covered hill, and when you took the pills that disappeared your father, the ones that killed him in darkness and broke your mother’s heart, you looked up at the sky and willed me to take you. You gorged like nonsense that night on canned peaches roasted in tin foil on a fire ignited with a barbecue tool, dopey from the drugs and eager for the sugar. You were thankful for the excesses of society that were keeping a city girl alive in a dead, still world. Then you walked on, willing that ankle to stop you, to keep your body in the south, the stinkingest land in a hot country on an empty continent in a festering world. You willed it all and me to take your body, to keep it, to leave you unencumbered by it. I was there when you cried all night, shouting at stars, and I was there when you woke up in the morning, unburdened by the volume of the tears.

I was there when the first puppy ran up. A well-fed shepherd mix, she’d been bred to trust what was now the waste of this land, but you were all that was left, walking north. She looked to you for the Alpo and the warmth that you gave her each night, in beds you passed through off the highway. You didn’t give her a name, because you didn’t know any that weren’t in memoriam, but when the second dog ran up, you began numbering them. “One!” you called, and she came. “Two” got his attention when he got too close to infected meat. Then Three, a husky like Two, and Four, a pit. Five was a retriever, and he liked to bring you ducks, greasy and satisfying over flames by the rivers you kept along. Six was the smartest of the pack, another shepherd, and when you started filling notebooks in hours of rest, you drew him, and what looked like sorrow in his eyes. You left the notebooks on tables and in microwaves; in nightstands; under pillows; one ziplocked under a rock in Appalachia. “I was here,” you wrote on the last page of each. I saw you sign each one but you weren’t leaving them for me; they weren’t for me, because I was already there.

You had gotten all the way to Minnesota by January and you’d by then lost fifty pounds and you were starting to remember me and you knew how to stay warm and you knew how to live and you knew not to die when you heard a man.

“Unnhhh… Yeah… there it is. Unh. Yeah. Okay.”

He was strangling a chicken in the backyard behind a farmhouse painted white and blue. You had approached the house for its protein offerings and bedding and maybe some fermented goods; an early evening’s ease for the body and mind. From behind a bush bordering the coop, you watched this six-foot creature toss the dead bird with a thump onto a stump with weathered axe welts in its surface. He was brolic, in a luxury flannel unknown in Brooklyn but revered on campsites, and his dark beard and curly hair showed signs of good health. And he was alive.

Silent behind the bush, you watched him lean into a low-seated wooden lawn chair with his back to you and the moist musk of indica started twisting from his face. A rifle was propped against the chair. One through Seven had been hunting by a lake a quarter mile from the house, and you could expect one or more dogs to follow your scent, and rush towards his, any minute. You were paralyzed by the potential of a living man; you were living in indecision, without a clear motive to avoid his discovery, living ability to use a firearm, or, you began realizing as his broad shoulders and what was sure to be the scent of human testosterone testified against your fear, his desire. The sun was setting. He got up and went inside the house. You stayed put, the zipper of your parka pulled back behind your pistol, its metal warm from your hand on it as you watched the candlelit house and heard him, pans, consternated shouts and a bit of unhinged laughter from the kitchen inside, and you did not hear me. I was there, but in these sounds, you did not hear me.

You stayed crouching there for another half hour, and Four found you. The noise was unignorable; the man emerged. He walked towards the cautious dog with outstretched hand and tonal promises of safety. “Hey, girl, you wanna come sleep inside tonight?” Her guttural whimpering let loose a bark, and you stood.

Your now-long hair blew in sunset wind and you regarded the man, your back so straight it spoke for you; a firm and stoic spine, clear resolve against his charms, his living human charms. He stood, still, too, and the red and purple sky watched you there for six full minutes. I watched you watch each other there for six full minutes.

He spoke first, angling himself towards you, disbelieving. “You… you seen anybody else?” Your hand on your hip did not betray your weapon beneath it, but still, you were undecided. Another minute. “Please, tell me you…” He looked at his feet, gathered himself with a quick deep breath, and raised his gaze to you again. “Please, speak English,” his face crinkling to beg.

Your hand fell to your side and he saw what it had been gripping. “Just you,” you finally gave him. You both stayed standing still as the chickens made ambient feathery sounds beside you, and Four sat panting at your heel.

He began to walk towards you, but two steps in, the sweet pit raised her hips to stand and settled her voice into a low, steady note. “Shh,” you whispered, lowering yourself to put your hand to her head, your eyes fixed on him from three feet down. Again, she sat. Again, you stood, and from behind your glasses, your eyes worked in reverse to the rest of you, to stay right on him.

“That -- that’s a good dog you got there. I got a few myself, but… they come and go. She your only one?”

“Six more coming.”

“From where?”

“Nearby. Last saw ’em by the lake down there past town.”

“And… and you? Where you comin’ from?”

“Far.”

Another silence settled. The house behind him, so big and he, too, so big, so well-rested. No bruises showing, no limp. No scratches on his face like the ones on yours that tended to leave and come back only angrier, and the worse ones on your back. That one deep gash on your ass, on the left, that took three weeks to scab. The sky was turning navy, and the white house began to look grey, the blue shutters black. Small yellow flames inside lit up the walls, with framed pictures, a mirror. He watched you watch the home, the life inside it. “Why don’t you come on in? I… I got tea in there, I do it over the fireplace. There -- uh, there’s breads. I made ’em this week. Looks like you maybe haven’t had bread in a while. And I -- I got whiskey. Some… uh, some water I can heat up, for the bath, too.”

You looked down at the ground for a few moments, felt yourself almost lose your balance at the thought of the inside of that house and at the thought of the man who lived there. You glanced at Four, then you leaned back into the night, pitched your your call to the dogs, and aimed yourself at the house. Walking past him, you said, “I’ll take some whiskey in the tea.” Then, barely beckoning back to him where he stood watching you glide over the lawn, you confirmed his suspicion. “I don’t even remember what bread tastes like.”

He was domestic, donning an apron to feed you when you’d finished your soak, and he prayed. Seemed more for show or maybe courtesy, but as he thanked me, you were already halfway through that first lump of baked flour, egg, and yeast that he’d plated for you. With it he’d served pickle chips, a scoop of strawberry preserves that took up half the plate, a bowl of greens you were wary of, a single Saltine, and chicken thigh and leg. The pickles you planned to leave ignored but the cracker, you knew, was a treasure, so you saved it for last. While you ate he told you how far the river was, how often he went for water, what supplies were closest, and the livestock on the surrounding farms he kept on top of. Some of the animals, he said, he’d just opened the gates -- too big to get through after slaughtering -- but the smaller ones he managed to make the most of. Sheep, goats, the chickens here and down the road, breeding, and plenty of eggs. One horse that’d died on her own lasted a while and didn’t make him sick, and he checked in once a week on the five others fenced in on that ranch. The stores, he said, were plenty good on canned stuff and he’d done what he could with the produce before taking what had rotted and burning it in the parking lots so the pests wouldn’t come, or some absurd bacteria from the old world. He’d salvaged seeds from the nursery and some dead friend had had some danker ones. When he went into town for anything, he switched out cars, checking around about which ones had the most gas in them, and keeping a list of where he left the best-running ones. Surprised you weren’t driving at all, he asked what you’d seen as you crossed the country so slowly.

The dogs had all come and were sniffing around his -- a spaniel and a lab in the house, Roxy and Al, and one beagle, Frank, was running around outside with Seven, your boxer -- as you sat with him on the couch with a tealess mug of the amber stuff, legs tucked under you with your tent-like flannel to your knees. You told him about how hard it’d been to learn as you went, no survivalist: How to start a fire without a lighter, how to keep a moving foot bandaged. The months it’d been since you saw a human face -- since either of you had seen a human face -- you’d found laughter when the dogs had, and you’d entertained yourself with stories from the old world, in libraries and bookstores. There were things you kept your eye out for -- pills, glasses close to your prescription, animals that needed help. You spent whole days in lakes, over the summer, and all day long you’d smelled the life that remained around you.

“Well, you’re here now. I’ll teach you how to drive… Maybe we could find more…” he choked. He teared up. He grasped his palms to his knees in suppressive weepy desperation, as men once did, then he looked to you. “Maybe we’re not the only ones.”

But you were never going to stay. That night, you did not let the dogs take him when he fucked you as if it were the first time of the rest of your life. He would be the last to touch you, and so for the first time since you started your way north, you shut the dogs outside the bedroom door. Inside you, he let out a song that rang through the night. He collapsed to your side, holding you, while you looked out the window at the stars and asked them how you were going to get away.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said as he gave you a push up into the cab of a red pickup truck. “It’s as easy as riding a bike, I promise.” You felt the hugeness of the machine all around you, dwarfing you in size and in threat. “There’s nothing safer than an empty road. There’s no way to crash. And look -- the CD players in ’em still work.” He opened the glove box. “Looks like we got… John Denver, Decembrists, the Dead, Faces, uh… Chris Isaak, and… Fleetwood Mac.”

“Stevie, definitely.”

“Huh?”

“Rumors,” you said, pointing to it, and he loaded the disc. “I’m not afraid of crashing.” You gripped the wheel and stared it down, the first enemy to defeat here. “I’m afraid of being in control. This thing is huge -- I don’t even like making decisions for myself. I’ve never wanted to make decisions for this… giant robot creature.”

“Ha! ‘Robot creature.’ I like that. Did you ever watch Transformers?” You shook your head. “Man, I loved Transformers when I was a kid. I remember my… my mom got me a lunchbox with them on it and it was my favorite thing for like two years.”

“I never watched it, but one time this guy I dated for a little while was telling me the arc about the one -- Optimus Prime -- because when he put the soundtrack on I didn’t know what it was. He really got me invested in why this guy was so important, and then he’s telling me the story of that one big fight, with the big bad --”

“Megatron.”

“Right. Megatron. And this guy’s got me near tears with how much I care about Optimus Prime, and that’s when the music comes on, the track from the movie --”

“‘The Death of Optimus Prime.’ Man. I’da cried, too. That guy had moves.” He laughed, then the two of you sat silent for a minute while Second Hand News played maniacally from the car’s speakers, the key resting in the ignition, and he fiddled with a pocketknife in his dirty, calloused hands. “Do you ever feel guilty?” he asked, without looking up.

“About surviving?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think about it. It just is. I… I don’t negotiate with reality.”

“I… I wish I could have saved my mom. I don’t know how I would have done it, but I just wish I could have taken her place. But then I think… what if there’s a reason I’m here, and she’s not? It’s felt this whole time like it was the rapture, and all I know is that I’m still here. Everyone’s in god’s kingdom but me. Then… then you come, and you’re perfect. But if we haven’t done anything wrong, why couldn’t we have gone, too?”

“But we… we are there. I don’t think your mom is in heaven. I think she’s in the ground where you buried her.” He looked to you with a confused ‘fuck you’ in his eyes. “Just... look at this,” you gestured to the trees through the windshield, bare and grey and resilient and actual against the modest, generous grey sky. “It all is. It all really is.”

You sang along with me. “Thunder only happens when it’s raining…” You felt me in the wind, tickling your arm through the open window, saying ‘I am here.’

On the third day of baked goods and kissing in a cornfield, he spoke to your womb, and the future. You’d been washing the tableware of his old world in two metal buckets of river water with a small flame under one, and he leaned over the railing of the porch towards where you knelt below. “What are those pills you take, anyway? The blue ones you got so many bottles of?”

Underwater, your hands shook. You scrubbed a moment longer, then leaned back on your ankles to face him. Speaking in your vaguenesses, you said, “They keep me here.”

“Do you have, like, a disease? Oh god, I’m not gonna lose you to some bullshit like cancer, am I? Please tell me you’re not sick, baby girl.”

“I’m not sick.” You stood, wiping your brow and leaving the dishes, then walking up to the house. Leaning back on a pillar of the veranda, you stared at your feet and chewed your words inside your lips before spitting them out. “I’m ill.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I have an illness… I’ll always have it. It… it made me hear a voice, when I was younger. Inside my head. I was sick. I take the pills, and now the voice doesn’t come around.”

Like those in the world before this one always did, he apologized for your disability, for his ignorance, for stigma and for knowing he’d never understand. “We’re all a little bit crazy, anyway,” he concluded. It was a pleasantry no longer valid, offered after a series of other platitudes you’d heard ten thousand times had fallen from his lips, fumbled and contentless. It would be the last time you heard them.

“Maybe,” you said, “but I don’t know of anyone who’d ever had it as good as I had it with him.”

“‘Him’?”

“Yeah, it was this entity, and he was male.”

“And it wasn’t, like, really scary?”

“He loved me.” You tried to bridge a gap here. “If you can believe it, I loved him. There were aspects that were overwhelming, but only because it was hard to process such beauty. It was a matter of connectivity… it was like the world came alive all at once, in the same way, for a purpose -- for the purpose of the feeling of being there -- and did a choreographed dance with me in the center, and every note of the music the world was dancing to was in sync with my heart beats.” You avoided his eyes, keeping the precious memories of imbalance guarded, even in divulgence.

“Why… why take the pills, then?” This new world knew no doctors; no courts; no norms. This new world was yours, and you both knew it.

You thought a moment. You knew you needed the pills to get you to Alaska in one piece. Is there ever a right time to break a heart? “I get a little spooked when I don’t take them every day,” you finally answered, which was true. “They’re comfort. They’re the home I know.”

“C’mere,” he smothered. His arms around you, he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll drive to hell and back to get ’em for you. You’re home.” Then he stepped back, regarded you. “They won’t stop us from… You know… Starting a family, will they?”

You fucked him in the yard under the stars that night, and I saw you tell him with your hips that it would be the last time. I was out here, waiting for you.

Four days out from the night you drank three gallons of water while he was blowing out the candles, waking up at what was probably two and absconding into the night with the dogs, you were a county away, in the thickets and hills of North Dakota, veering into off-road Manitoba. You’d left him a note:

I’m sorry. I will always be sorry. I hope you can endure. I need you to. If you have so far, surely you can continue to. You will be fine without me

-maybe not alone.

But... it’s not me. It never was.

Love from me and mine, for all the time there is

Staying off the highways and away from cities now, it took some doing to find the pharmacies and the canned stuff, but you ate well enough, teaching yourself how to use a rifle by Winnipeg, and when you counted your pills, you found the number satisfactory. You counted the days of the moon, too, and it was in Saskatchewan that you bled. You reached your hand inside yourself when you saw the first sign of it and you pulled your hand out red, and your relief spilled out, spreading sideways across your face, a joyous winter squall streaking down from shameless eyes. You were done. I was there when you were finished; we closed the book. It went thud; we both heard it go thud. Inside you, thud.

But somewhere near Vancouver, when coastal storms that had you shivering had cleared and it was probably April again, you were wandering, fresh from a chill that had cleansed you from the bones out, and the book opened again. What was once a commune looked like a good few days of kitchen, reading, and maybe someone had once here had paint and you’d make your mark. But from the vantage of a cabin on the outer skirts of the estate, you saw the light of a fire that wasn’t yours. Unafraid this second time, you shut the dogs inside and closed the door before whispering your feet over wet and mossy ground, through the alleys lined by sequoias that made this a forest and a small city at once. Gaining on the flame, its masters showed themselves to be a man, a woman, and a girl-child, fair of hair and swaying slightly as they sat around the fire. Acoustically from the man’s lap and throat, Danny’s Song slid through the night between branches. “People smile and tell me I’m the lucky one / And we’ve just begun…”

You padded back, gave your signal of silence to the dogs, and you slept in a two-story colonial a mile away from the survivors; you closed the book and I said thud. Inside us, thud.

All the way north through British Columbia, you took a pill only every other day. You had calculated just enough to get you there, then release. The glacial bite you hosted in decreasing temperatures as you made your way past the border into Juneau was a background to the shiver of withdrawal you knew from moments here and there in the old world. You lost your balance for a moment… You started to see me in the stars; in the brightness of your dogs’ eyes; in the leaves that made up the ground beneath your feet and in the beetles that made their friendly way through the ground beneath your feet. You heard me in the wind; you heard me in your pulse. You knew me to be there. And I was there; I always had been, in the sparks of neurons firing as much as in objects; the world; the people I had once constituted. But it was different than before, we knew this to be true. You were quiet and slow. You harbored your sober reverence, but now you were unexpecting and undemanding. We had the world ahead of us; you never reached for a volume knob to turn me up. You had made it on your feet I walked you in to Alaska, where we once shared icy meditations, and it was a homecoming that, for years, you hadn’t dared to hope for.

A white expanse; the frozen tundra. Ahead, the frost that cleans you, makes you solid, pure; grinning child of man, among the last to make mistakes and among the first to love with no limitations. To the back of you, the stink forgotten and the faces too far to break your heart any more. I held you in the air and swum around you in winding circles of sunlight and the filling deep dark of night as you breathed, breathed, breathed. You trekked and fished and ate maple syrup on snow and you lay on your back for whole afternoons looking up at me. My infinite eyes added sight to yours, which grew clearer every day. You did not crumble; you did not quake. Every day, you made yourself warm, you made yourself fed, you were mother to nine dogs and all the while you were lover to the spaces that man left in his wake. I had been there in man; in the private parts of him and in the ways men looked to each other. Men had looked to each other when they fell; I was there. I watched you watch them fall, and I fell from their hands to the ground you stood on. I watched you stand up after man and meet my gaze.

Now, it’s a more modest home I live in, just us and a few others here to notice me in worms and in wind. I lived in those worms you watched for hours and I lived in the dirt that passed through them. I lived in your full belly after you ate arctic char; I lived in the arctic char; I lived in the arctic char where he couldn’t hear me; I lived in the hook that got him. I lived in you. You were there; I felt you you feel me live inside you.

We were here in chills and in the warmth of fires; we were here in the songs you remembered me singing to you all those years ago, back when you were sick and couldn’t stand up straight; when you knew me to be defined, holy, property. In the solid truth of Alaska, you sung to yourself, “our house is a very, very, very fine house” and in your trust you asked me no questions; in my voluminous silence, I told you no lies. When I had taken you by the hand, laid you flat and still, drooling, sobbing glitter tears and force-fed neurochemical nuclear war, we made this house. Its foundation held steady, and in the bright white of the north, you were grounded upon it when you looked out at our backyard. The white expanse looked back at you, the frozen tundra of our love. You felt me in all things, meeting me where I stood.

I was here; I watched you come to join me.

***

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theladylavender · 7 years

Text

Full Transcript of The Abominable Bride Post-Mortem

This is for @lianneder who wanted a transcript of this video. I’ve omitted the “um’s” and bits that I just couldn’t get, but that’s about it! There are a few times where they talk over each other and it’s nearly impossible to make out some things, but I’ve tried my best!

Note: This might not be perfect, but I have done the best that I possibly could have done under the circumstances. Feel free to let me know if I messed up! When I get a chance to rewatch this entire thing, I’ll be editing this loads.

If you ever use this post as a reference, please give me credit!

Quick Guide:

BH = Boyd Hilton

SV = Sue Vertue

MG = Mark Gatiss

SM = Steven Moffat

AA = Amanda Abbington

BH: Hi, my name is Boyd Hilton. Welcome to this very special look at “Sherlock: The Abominable Bride”. We’re calling it the “post-mortem”, so we’ve got all the key players here, and we’re going to be discussing the whole show, how they came up with it, all the secrets, so spoiler warning: if for some godforsaken reason you haven’t actually watched “The Abominable Bride” yet, please do, NOW, then come back and watch us discuss the whole thing afterwards. I’m joined by: über producer, Sue Vertue; Mark Gatiss, co-creator, executive producer, co-writer, is that fair? Yeah...

SM: Mycroft.

BH: Mycroft as well, forgot about that.

MG: Fat one, too.

BH: Steven Moffat, co-creator, co-producer, executive producer...doesn’t actually star in it, but maybe in the, you know...

MG: YES!

SM: Yes, I know...

BH: And, Amanda Abbington, of course, Mary. And we are going to be discussing the whole show. So Mark, you told us, us journalists and the world, that you were going to-

MG: LIES!

BH: Lies, basically, that you were going to do a one-off special, set in 1895, the original period of Sherlock Holmes, as written by Arthur Conan Doyle, and that was pretty much it. No idea that it was all part of this coming plan that actually included...was all taking place in Sherlock’s mind, et cetera, et cetera. So, I guess the first question, the question that everyone wants to know is: was that all part of the conception originally, that, yes you were doing a Victorian special, but at the same time, it had this key role in explaining a lot of things about what happened in the previous episode?

MG: Well yeah, I mean...first of all we knew we’d have to lie, and I mean...it’s extraordinary how people do sort of get slightly cross and you go, “Well, the alternative is we just spoiled it!”. I mean, we were never going to sit around a table with ??? and say “Actually, this is the twist!”. *laughs* Somehow we’d get blamed for that! I’m afraid it’s just what we have to do, all the time. You can never really trust anything we say, not even what I’m saying now! But yes, we conceived it completely as episode ten and, that really...as soon as it became apparent that we could do it all as if it was a recreation in his head, that he was trying to solve a crime that was like Moriarty’s death, to sort of explain how Moriarty had come back, then the conceit was there! That really, it all takes place in the minutes after he’s got the phone call on the plane and anticipating this thing...how long we could take it until you pull the rug, and we always hope that we can do it as long as possible...It was about seventy-five minutes, with the odd clue. Although we did...there some earlier clues...we actually shot some bits where Sherlock looks in the window of Baker Street and sees the modern version of himself. But it was very much...

SV: And the morgue.

MG: And the morgue, yes, in the mirror scene, which, you know, took a lot of doing. But as we’d hoped, we didn’t want to use them because it was just about trying to sell the dummy, and the moments which I find spine-tingling, and when we sat in the cinema and watched it on New Year’s Day, you could tell when Benedict says “How could he survive?”, there was a little frizzle (?) of like “Oh!”

SV: Well they’ve made an error!

MG: Yes, it’s the usual continuity error!

BH: There were lots of people...I was watching and afterwards looking back on Twitter and lots of people on Twitter kind of thinking that certain lines were a mistake, that you hadn’t stuck with the original way of speaking back then. Of course, there were little clues, right from early on in the script of what was going on. Steven, did you ever think...so if this episode had been part of the normal run and not on its own as a special, would you have done it the same way? Would it have been part of the general...or was it all down to the fact that you had--you were going to do a special?

SM: We had the idea of doing a Victorian version, and in the way we ultimately did it. But I don’t think it would’ve been right to take up a third of one of our normal runs with this. And also, you couldn’t sell the dummy as effectively if it was part of the series. It’s a special, it’s on its own, we’re doing it Victorian, never mind. And then you can genuinely, properly surprise people when it turns out not to be. Or when you start to tease them, you start to provoke them with those lines. And, as Mark says, there were a few moments that we didn’t use. When you start to sort of tease at it, “Is this for real or not”? So by making it--by having the special, and I think this is the only time we could’ve done it...If I remember, we almost didn’t manage to schedule this...and we were saying “We’re not doing this as part of the series, and any other time doing it would be too late. It has to be now.”

MG: It’s a curious thing though, actually, because we said to Benedict and Martin as well, that we could only really do it now. It was sort of conceived because we didn’t have time to do three. It’s a special now, and this idea works now, and it was kind of tight, really. ‘Cuz we couldn’t have just sort of put it as episode one and then suddenly have gone back to the future.

SV: Well also, and the importance of the Mind Palace, wasn’t it? Which, in series three, you sort of placed that in a bit more, so it didn’t come out of the blue.

SM: Well, that whole-to-the-whole “death” past sequence, as we call it in “His Last Vow”, where you know that Moriarty’s in there. You actually see him inside it, so I mean, it was fresh in the minds of the audience that he can do that.

SV: “Fresh in the minds” of two years ago!

MG: Well that’s the thing, wasn’t it--

SM: “Fresh” within reason!

BH: Well, now that you mention it, the recap...Not just a recap, but a rather wonderful way of getting us all back into it with...and every single bit of that recap kind of reflected back in this episode as well, somehow.

MG: Maybe!

SV: But also, with the recap, we were trying to disguise--we wanted to get certain bits in there, didn’t we? About, you know, him being on the plane. We wanted to show the plane, without people realizing that it was a recap so that way we did all that in the beginning.

MG: We actually had an advance screening for the people who were going to have to publicize it because we couldn’t keep everything a secret, quite a long time ago. And I remember after that...‘cuz you can lose sight of these things, you forget that, of course, the other 100% of the audience have not watched it thirty thousand times, they’ve watched it once...and I suddenly--I remember somebody thinking...I think somebody said to me, “ ‘Cuz I forgot that he was on that plane” and I went “Oh. That’s important!”. And so, conceiving the idea of a little recap that would actually be another trick, really.

SM: That is the idea, with the plane, within what seems to be a summation of the series today with the “Alternatively” bit. That was a lot of tuning for that recap.

BH: And why? Because...?

SM: We’re trying to disguise it! We can’t say it’s a recap because it’s--we’re saying it’s a stand-alone. Where’s the “stand-alone” in a recap? Well, what if we do a summation of it, a reminder of all the characters to date? Here they all are, here’s what we normally do, and then say “Alternatively”. And that way...and all that is to remind you that he’s on a plane. It’s the only piece of information you need.

BH: Amanda, I remember asking you and the whole cast when we went to visit the set, what you felt when you read the script, and of course you had to lie as well because you couldn’t reveal what you really thought when you read the script. What did you really think?

AA: I thought it was brilliant! I thought it was such a good idea that, ‘cuz I didn’t--so you read it, and you get further into it, and then it says “They land at the airport” and you go “Oh! We’ve been in his head!”. And it was a real revelation ‘cuz Martin and I, when we get the scripts, since I’ve been in the show, we read them together in the sitting-room, which is a really nice little thing we do, and we got to that scene where the plane lands, we both went “Oh this is amazing!”. Suddenly it was much more than what we thought it would be, I mean, it was brilliant.

BH: And what did you think of the whole, the sense that...I mean, were you excited about using the Victorian setting anyway?

AA: Yes, I mean there’s always something quite romantic about doing that, and I think that it was brilliant that we went back to the original time it was--It would’ve been great if we hadn’t done it. Now I’ve played Mary, traditionally, and it’s something that will be really dear to my heart because there’s such fantastic characters in that setting. So I’m glad we managed to do that.

BH: And that scene, where you’re in the black dress...it’s a classic scene. That’s a pretty good way of opening...

AA: Yeah, it was brilliant! I loved it! It was such a great reveal for her. And then we find out that she’s a suffragette, and then we find out that she works for Mycroft...and it all kind of runs alongside the modern--

MG: An entire separate spin-off series!

SM: And presumably a much better series!

AA: Well they want to do a spin-off of--

SV: Molly and Mary.

AA: Molly and Mary, yeah.

SM: Because she’s, in that film, smarter than both versions of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, and Mycroft is smarter than Sherlock Holmes. So we’re missing the good series! The really good series.

AA: Well you’ve got to write--you have to write “Molly and Mary”, apparently. That’s what people have been asking for. They’ve been asking for a Molly and Mary spin-off.

BH: Absolutely, yeah! Well let’s talk about the fact that Mary--

MG: There’s loads of time for that!

SM: Good to use up all that spare time!

AA: Yeah, you must!

BH: You’ll be fine!

SM: But hang on, I do need a job, don’t I?

BH: Right, yeah see! You’ve got all that extra spare time!

AA: It’s your next project!

BH: Let’s talk about Mary working for Mycroft. So what was that all about? That’s an interesting --that’s kind of a big, new development but we have to keep reminding ourselves that’s taking place in Sherlock’s mind. So why is Sherlock--

MG: Well, the rationale really was, if you can call it that, was that...really, this is all taking place super fast, really it’s minutes, as he’s inside his head and his slightly drug-induced Mind Palace trip, really. He’s sort of solving these things, but also having fun. That’s what we thought. You can excuse that all the time. It’s an elaborate construction for the benefit of the audience, but what Sherlock is doing is having fun, so he makes Mycroft grotesquely fat, he plays with things, and I think that idea of--maybe the idea of Mary working for Mycroft is sort of--it’s like a logical extension isn’t it? And also that thing of--you know, just having that line “Are you clear on that, Watson?” and then “Oh, it’s the other one!”.

SM: There’s a problem, too. We couldn’t ignore the fact that at the end of “His Last Vow”, Mary--or during “His Last Vow, Mary is revealed to being this super agent. She can’t go back to being just the missus; she has to be the super agent in both versions. So I think that during Sherlock Holmes’ drug fit, he somehow puts them together, which makes sense. Probably in his vague paranoia.

SM: “If I were Mycroft, I’d employ Mary to look after me! That’s what I’d do!”

BH: Yeah, that makes sense, the paranoia, that definitely makes sense.

AA: And the ganging up! I like the ganging up, that was good.

SM: “All these really--all these smart people who annoy me--”

AA: “They’re being mean in my head!”

MG: I was going to say, Mycroft can hide Mary in the flap of skin under his arm, and they could go out together!

AA: Yeah, they can just tuck in! It’s lovely!

BH: Let’s talk about corpulent Mycroft. Because in the original books, he’s fat. Did you ever think, when you first started, “We could do it that way”, or did you not want to--I mean, I know you’re often seen on treadmills and you’re keeping fit...

MG: Oh, that’s--it was all about, originally...it’s the equivalence thing, which we’ve done from the beginning, and as with other aspects of it, some of them came straight away, the nicotine patches instead of a pipe, and other things it was a bit more of a puzzle but we thought--given that the Billy Wilder film “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes” had been one of our great inspirations and Christopher Lee is not a fat Mycroft...if you take that part out of it, and concentrate on the rivalry between the two brothers, then you can use it as a little joke. So he’s worried about his weight-

SV: He struggles a bit, doesn’t he?

MG: Yeah. We did actually--I think originally, there were--he was going to have pills, which we didn’t use...sort of diet pills, or something. But obviously, Sherlock has a dig about it all the time because he knows there’s history. So again, that was the modern equivalence. Someone like Mycroft now, given that he was going to have to be actually more active than the one in the stories--who hardly moves--, he would actually do something about it but have a constant kind of worry.

SM: Because that would be the modern version of Mycroft, who sorts out his weight problem. But we--I think we’ve got a photo somewhere of the Holmes boys together as kids and young Mycroft is fat.

MG: Yes, it never appears in Sherlock, but it’s on the beach, and so that’s what it’s all about. But then obviously with The Bride, you know, Sherlock has let rip and makes him into Mr. Creosote, which obviously was a joy!

SV: Quick question for you actually, because you run now.

MG: Yeah, yeah!

SV: Did you start running...?

MG: Post that, yeah.

SV: So was it sinus-free when we put you on the running machine?

MG: I wasn’t running then. But I do run now.

BH: But getting fat Mycroft...What process did you go through for that? Did you kind of just build a fat suit?

MG: I ate and ate and ate!

AA: Yeah, and you lost it really quickly! It’s all healthy!

MG: It’s like Michael Fassbender!

SV: Big fat suit...

MG: Timothy Spaulding’s fat suit...

SV: *nodding* Timothy’s Spaulding’s fat suit...

MG: From “Britain’s Fattest Man”.

AA: Oh, was it?

SV: Yeah, it was extraordinary...It took you ages to put it on, didn’t it? And then, nobody had told you how you could actually go to the loo. That was the main problem, wasn’t it?

MG: These things are not thought about and...It’s the same like the Doctor Who monsters...People forget about you. And when you’re the size of the room, people walk past you. And I literally couldn’t go to the toilet in ages.

SV: His hands!

AA: I know! They were like little...

MG: It was properly...It is very disabling. And at lunch time, it was much easier to sit there, like that...and nod off like someone who’s forty stone would do. I had to go through doors sideways...

AA: God...

MG: It’s not heavy-heavy. It’s like a farthingale, it’s like hoops with brilliantly molded pieces...actually modeled on a real obese person. But it’s just so difficult. And with the prosthetic as well, ‘cuz it has to be constantly attended to. But it’s a brilliant piece of work, I mean really one of the best I’ve ever seen, I think it’s fantastic.

BH: I have one more question about the fatness, which is all the food...I think at the beginning of that scene, as we cut to you [Mark], you’re eating. Does that mean you had to do a lot of eating in that scene?

MG: No, I’m a professional, I’ve been doing this for years! What you eat is a grape! That’s why I’m going “Mm, delicious!”. I can eat a few grapes. I made a point in the scene of saying he should be like the Ghost of Christmas Present. That he’s on a pile of puddings and we had a wonderful caterer who made all these Victorian jellies and partridges and these incredible pies, I mean incredible pies. And halfway through the day, she said “I’m just going to chuck it all out if nobody wants it”. And so, she actually made this great big box for me--I’ve got a picture somewhere!--So end of a very very long day, she gave it to me and I went back to the hotel and I opened it up and just went *makes a sound that mimics someone who just ate too much food*

SV: *laughs* No more quail for me!

MG: There were four quails with eggs and these massive pork pies. I mean they were beautiful, but I had to throw them away. I felt sick after all that Christmas pudding!

BH: Apart from the challenge of coming up with period food for that scene, I mean the duel of doing a period version of the show and--I mean the normal version of the show is complicated and ambitious and epic enough--but was it doubly complicated to do this version?

SV: Everything takes longer! You can’t kind of put sixty supporting artists out the back. Everyone’s got to have wigs and clothes and corsets...Closing the roads, you've got to cover every single--London’s hopeless, really, because it’s just lines and everything had to be removed, I think. But the lighting as well! 'Cuz you’ve got to use Victorian lights and candles...and it all takes longer!

MG: Luckily, though, any continuity error is because it’s in his head! Any! “Gets that bit wrong!” Doesn’t matter, anyway, deleted that bit! It’s funny because obviously you can do so much more now in post, but you still want to minimize it so that you don’t just point down modern Gower Street and say “Oh, it doesn’t matter, we’ll fix it in post!”. Because you’re going to have to fix a lot! But things creep in all the time, don’t they?

AA: A lot of roads we used when we were on location...It didn’t feel like there was going to be much done.

MG: Well, that’s why we went to Bristol and Bath.

AA: It was so lovely, going on these streets and they were all transformed into these Victorian...It was fantastic.

BH: And you also had a maze to find, as well.

SV: Oh, yeah...

BH: Where was that?

MG: Longleat!

SV: I kept trying to cut the maze! “You sure you need the maze? You sure you need the maze?”

SM: We need a scary maze! We need a scary maze.

MG: And that’s the only scary one in the world!

BH: What was the problem with the maze for you?

SV: Well technically, it was really hard to get in and film it because a lot of scaffolding and the weather was awful.

MG: Well it went in and out...

SV: It went from sunny, to rain...and also, if you know Longleat, it’s just got these very modern bits all over the place, you know, so we had to avoid all those. It was just tricky...structurally.

BH: I’m guessing the other thing that maybe you might have wanted to take out when you saw it, maybe I don’t know...the Fall? The Reichenbach Fall? I mean that seems like a terribly expensive thing!

SV: I jokingly kept saying “Let’s lose that!”

MG: We said we were prepared to lose everything apart from that! Just do that scene!

AA: It’s fantastic, that scene. It’s amazing. When I first saw it, I was like “That is just beautiful”. It’s so dramatic.

BH: Did you know how you were going to do that? Did you as writers know, roughly…”oh this is how we’ll do it, it’ll be fine!”

SM: Well we did sort of know that we didn’t want the real version. They actually did the real version in the Jeremy Brett series, but we didn’t want that one. We wanted the one...the way it was illustrated in The Strand magazine, which isn’t actually like The Reichenbach Fall at all, and the “path cuts into the cliff-face” makes no sense, none of it makes any sense. And we wanted it to sort of look hyper-real because this is a Gothic landscape of the mind. It’s not really there, so it should look sort of satisfying and unreal, and like a storybook, that’s what we wanted. The reality of that...I hear a lot of people talking about the CGI and all that...very little CGI in that! There’s a big pull-out...they built that! It’s a waterfall, and there’s a thing, and people are talking about matte paintings and so on, and there aren’t any! They’re standing next to a waterfall, built in the studio!

MG: It was amazing...if that was a feature film, it’d have been two weeks, and we did it in a day. I think the final result, it’s just wonderful.

SV: And the day before, they had all that water and they said “We’re going to heat it up overnight so it’s not too cold in the morning”, so I said, “Fine”. I got there in the morning...no water in the tank at all! I said, “What happened?”. “It started leaking, so we had to empty the whole tank, and then start filling it!”. And water in studios is never a good thing.

AA: And actors as well, I think!

SV: Yeah!

MG: Wet actors! Wactors!

AA: Wactors are the worst!

MG: There’s a funny thing, though, because when you’re that soaked, there’s nothing you can do. Like Andrew had this lovely Moriarty suit, but his collar was like paper. And Benedict’s deerstalker, after awhile, become limp as a letter. It loses all its shape.

SV: Oh, and his tie started running, actually. We had to take all of that out and get it stitched. Actually ink...

MG: Yes it did, actually, it started to leak.

BH: So they didn’t mind getting really wet, for the sake of-?

SV, AA: No, they were fine!

MG: They were fighting in the rain!

SV: In the colder water than expected!

AA: I remember Martin coming back to the hotel...I think they had a lot of fun, actually. I know Martin said the same thing, what they managed to get in that little time was incredible. And they all, I think all three of them had a nice time, actually, and enjoyed that scene.

SV: I don’t think it was Douglas’s favorite day, really...

AA: No, but technically it must be a nightmare to film something like that.

SM: He’s proud of it, now.

SV: No, I think he’s proud of it, and there was a point when they were doing close-ups I think the next day or something, with this lametta, wasn’t it, behind them and I’m thinking “This is never gonna cut it”; it looked like some kind of Christmas shot...but it worked, brilliantly!

AA: It was very good.

BH: Under their beautiful costumes, are they wearing like wetsuits or stuff to keep them warm?

MG: They were, weren’t they?

SV: Yes.

MG: But it’s not freezing...

AA: And they were inside, it’s all inside.

MG: It’s kind of relentless, and it’s a bit like you just realize that now every part of you is wet-

AA: And you can’t get dry…

MG: It’s just heavy, you know?

AA: Yeah, it’s fine.

MG: But having a fight keeps you going, I think.

SM: And it is about as iconic as Sherlock Holmes gets. To do that, and to do it the way it sounded, the way it was illustrated originally, was incredibly exciting. I think I saw one review saying, what was it…”of course you didn’t really need that”. What do you mean “need”? We didn’t actually “need” to do anything! It’s a television program about a made-up detective solving made-up crimes!

AA: It’s in his head!

SM: It’s not actually strictly necessary! It’s Reichenbach, and it’s Sherlock Holmes, and it’s Moriarty! You don’t need Santa Claus…!

BH: There’s a lot in this episode of that, isn’t there? I felt, as a fan, giving me treats, treat after treat.

MG: I’m afraid they’re all for us, really.

SM: Yeah. You can share our treats!

BH: Reichenbach, recreating the real opening where Sherlock meets Watson and the whipping of the dead body and all of that. And there’s that wonderful scene where Sherlock and Watson are together intimately, talking about Sherlock’s past and trying to probe him a bit, which felt, to me, another great treat for us to see just a little bit of a challenge.

MG: Funny enough, quite a few of those scenes...I mean, obviously we’ve done the beginning before...but the chance to do them in the original context opened up a lot of doors. I remember saying “We need to do a scene like in ‘The Speckled Band’ where they’re staking out the house and Watson says ‘Oh god! This is the longest night of my life!’”, one of those....because there’s a lot of those, it feels like there’s a lot of those!

SM: And there’s also a moment in that script where we just sort of went “We’re going to wait outside, and then we’ll go and get involved in the adventure” and that’s what happened. We realized we actually have to stop because just pace-wise, you can’t bear it. They actually have to sit and talk. We went backwards and forwards about that scene.

MG: Also, there’s some of the best scenes out there.

AA: It’s a beautiful scene.

MG: Because we know it’s what people really love about the show, more than any spectacle and the actual crime of the week. It’s when you find a little bit more about our favourite heroes.

SM: It’s an odd sort of thing because we discussed about what were we gonna do in this scene...Doctor Watson, at some point, in any version, whatever version, must have sat Sherlock Holmes down at some point and said “Come on, what’s the truth? I know what I write, but what’s the truth? What happened?”.

MG: Do you know, I always say, being in the middle of writing series four at the moment, if anything’s a good writing exercise for the show, it’s to look at the stories and think “What did Doyle not do, in terms of what must have gone on”. If you have two men living together, at some point, even if you back-project, he would’ve asked him “Have you ever, um…”. And actually, that’s a very good way of opening new avenues…

SV: Like the best man, wasn’t it, as well.

SM: Literally, he must have been the best man.

MG: He must’ve been his best man, or with Charles Augustus Magnussen...in the original story, Charles Augustus Milverton, has an odd end where they break into Milverton’s house, and a completely unrelated character, whom he has been blackmailing, kills him, grinds her foot into his face. And then they scamper, with the police on their tails. I remember when we talked about it, it was like “No, that didn’t happen”. It’s like Doyle has actually adjusted the truth, or Watson has.

SM: It reads as though Watson’s adjusted the truth because he doesn’t want to admit that what they did was break in and shoot Milverton and he’s written this for The Strand magazine, in order to cover up...But I also wonder what Doyle was intending to write then. “I can’t actually have him shoot him in the foot!” So we restore “what is the intent?”. We just did it.

SV: I’ll leave that to the boys!

MG: You look at a story you’re very familiar with and think, “I wonder what else happened in this domestic situation that we were never privy to.”

BH: Of course the other thing that happened in the Reichenbach Fall scene is the “Elementary, my dear Watson”, at last. Did you think, “We have to do this one day” or “This is the perfect opportunity for that”?

SM: I remember I put “Elementary, my dear Watson” at the end of the first scene when he unveils Mary, and that was quite funny; it was this sort of final thing. And then we had it somewhere else, didn’t we? And then there’d been several times to the Reichenbach and thought “This is must be where he says ‘Elementary, my dear Watson’”. Just so that some pedant will say “But they never actually said that, you know!”.

MG: There’s a lot of things he never said! It still makes me fill up, that, it’s just the most wonderful place to just pop it. And actually thank God we saved it. Actually, Mycroft says it in “The Empty Hearse”, says “Elementary”, but not “My dear Watson”. But I’m so glad we held back because it’s just the right place for it.

AA: The hairs on the back of my neck went up when I saw that. It’s just a brilliant moment.

BH: And then seeing Benedict doing a swan dive. Now is that hard? He must be used to doing it by now, I guess!

AA: Diving off things!

MG: It’s all he does!

SV: Getting the wires back on again!

BH: Does it get easier doing those scenes? I mean, it looked fantastic on screen.

SV: Yeah, well that one, actually, he didn’t fly very far at all. It was only about ten foot up, was it? Yeah, but everything ran behind him.

SM: There’s a certain point when, you know, the crew’s bored...we dangle Benedict from up there! It’s fine!

MG: There’s a wonderful picture of him dangling from Bart’s with an umbrella! But he’s very gainly...But Martin and Ben are both hugely up for all that, all the physical stuff, and actually with Reichenbach Fall, he [Ben] was so brave he really wanted to do it, just hurl himself off! There was some pressure at the time with his stuntman looking nervous, and he didn’t want a stuntman!

SV: He’d been bored!

MG: Yes!

SV: “I want a go!”

MG: It’s just not true!

BH: In terms of the surprises, like for example, Andrew Scott, Moriarty coming back...is it--?

SM: The least surprising thing, ‘cuz he always comes back!

BH: I know he always comes back, but you’re used to keeping that surprise! But it’s still a delight to see him, and I had no idea he was coming back, I don’t think any other journalist did.

MG: I’ll tell you a story! At Gloucester Cathedral, with the wedding dress and all the accolades, and Andrew was smuggled in, it was a top-secret operation...He was hidden at every stage, there was like a put-you-up inside the cathedral, lots of fans outside and they nearly saw him, we got away with it completely! And then we were going to get a train back to London, Andrew and I, and they said “Come through here! We have to go through the catacombs, through this little door, through here, out the back…” Nobody there to meet us. And all the people ‘round the front just coming! And not kidding, Andrew hid behind me, and at one stage we did that thing that Sean Connery does in “Russia with Love” like pretending to be “Kiss me, kiss me!”. It was unbelievable! It was some sort of mess-up with production and we were just stranded! And then eventually...it was the least secret thing you could possibly imagine. Everyone got to the station before we did. Then we arrived in this mini bus, all the fans from the cathedral were in the station! And it still didn’t get out!

AA: Yeah, it’s amazing it didn’t!

MG: It’s a Christmas miracle!

BH: So Andrew Scott was crouching behind you...Thought you were tall!

AA: And he had to stay down in those...we had to stay down in those very dusty old catacombs.

SM: We also have to give a lot of tribute to the fans there because they have kept a lot of secrets.

AA: They were brilliant, actually. They were really good.

SM: They show up, they watch, but they don’t block set.

SV: ‘Cuz some of them had spotted him [Andrew] getting on the train.

AA: Yeah, and they didn’t say anything.

BH: He does do that.

AA: What, get on trains? He’s allowed to now; there was a period when he wasn’t allowed to.

SM: Yes, we had to insist that he was actually dead for awhile. You can’t be seen in public; you shot yourself, so! Just stay home!

SV: The same time we were filming with him, we were trying to get out of him what he’s doing with the Bond film [“Spectre”] as well!

AA: Yeah, we kept saying to him “Who are you?”.

MG: He was made of secrets!

BH: He must be the best secret-keeper in the world of acting!

AA: He really is!

SM: We’re really resenting the fact he’s keeping secrets from us.

BH: How bad!

SM: It’s just wrong. I mean how did that happen?

BH: Especially the huge Bond fans you both [Steven and Mark] are! In the wonderful scene where he’s [Moriarty] in 221B Baker Street, strutting his stuff, he licks some dust...And what’s the dust made of, or did he do it?

MG: It’s pretty grim, as I remember. There’s probably an outtake of him [Andrew], by the elephant, going *makes gagging-like noises* It was pretty grim. But he went for it. It’s his equivalent of throwing himself off a waterfall! “Do you mind licking some dust?”

BH: Of all of these treats you’ve given us, and yourselves, as you’ve said, you’re doing it partly for yourselves...what’s the greatest one for you?

MG: In the special?

BH: Yeah, in the special.

SM: Oh, Reichenbach.

MG: Reichenbach, yeah...I mean, in that way, with the modern rationale...When we did “Reichenbach Fall”, Steve Thompson was like “Well we’re obviously not going to Switzerland. What’s the equivalent? What would tie it up?”. But of course, it’s a wonderful location, the high building, it’s a brilliant episode, all those things...but secretly it’s disappointing. It’s not the waterfall. So in a Christmas pudding of treats, it was like “Oh, I know!”

SV: You two sniggling all day!

SM: That scene is the equivalent of Tom Baker turning up in the “Day of the Doctor”. Doesn’t actually need to be there, as some people have been going on about, but isn’t it great that it is?!

BH: In terms of the suffragette theme, which was fascinating--

AA: Yes!

MG: Suffragists.

SM: Yeah, suffragists.

BH: Oh sorry, suffragists, of course, yes. What did you think of that?

AA: I loved it, yeah I loved it. I loved when she says “I’m a suffragette. Get out!”. One of my favorite scenes…

MG: “Are you for or against?”

AA: Yeah. “Get out!” It’s lovely. But I was pleased that she was part of that movement. It just added to her strength and I like that.

BH: And it felt almost like using the suffragists was a way of commenting on the fact that if you had set the whole series from the start in that period, you could never have given so many great roles for women.

AA: No…

SV: They wouldn’t have spoken.

MG: It’s interesting. It is early, and that’s part of the rationale in Sherlock’s head ‘cuz he doesn’t know everything. It is too early; the movement really hasn’t moved a lot till a lot later, more turn of the century. But, the point is, it came out of...well the joke is that none of the women really speak in Doyle. We can’t do that, so what do we do with our characters having established them as very rounded, three-dimensional characters. They can’t suddenly be silent unless you make a joke of it. And then the whole point was that Mrs. Ricoletti using the methods of secret societies she’s heard of kind of constructs this death cult as a way of creating the Bride. That’s the solution to the real crime. But it’s much more about what’s going on inside Sherlock’s head. We are very keen to say “This is where the story would end, if he were really solving it. But there’s much more to come”. So it’s not about, as someone pointed out, a “gang of insane feminists”.

AA: No, it’s really not.

SM: It’s got nothing to do with that.

AA: It’s a story.

SM: It’s a death cult.

MG: She’s using the mechanics of a secret society to put the fear of God into bad people, into bad men.

SM: I think I read someone claiming that those people in the hoods were suffragists. They were not campaigning for votes for women. They were killing people; nothing to do with the suffragists! When Doctor Watson says...he does ask, “Is it the suffragists?”, and Mycroft scorns him. ‘Course it’s not! It’s nothing to do with that.

MG: The whole point of the conical things...It’s like the Spanish Inquisition, which we didn’t expect!

AA: No one does!

MG: It’s not like the Ku Klux Klan, although that is the solution to the original story “The Five Orange Pips”. And then that’s why Moriarty says “Is this silly enough for you yet? Is it gothic enough?”

AA: And it’s all in there, isn’t it? It’s all explained.

MG: And of course, at the end, he is explaining what’s happened to Doctor Watson. He’s not explaining--

SV: Well apparently, “mansplaining”, which I read somewhere. But I looked at that and I thought, “But it’s called Sherlock!” Who else is going to explain if not Sherlock? “I do know the answer, but Mary could you just explain what’s been going on instead?”

SM: If you don’t like a man explaining things, you may have picked the wrong show to watch. But “mansplaining” is when a man explains things to a women, or to women. That’s not what happens in the scene. Even within the dream, he’s explaining it to Doctor Watson, not the women present. And in fact, he’s actually talking to himself! He’s the only real person there! This is Sherlock Holmes beating himself up for how he’s treated the women in his life. And it’s not even a subtle thing. We’ve got Janine there, we’ve got Molly there. He’s beating himself up. He’s realizing he’s been screwing up. ‘Cuz there is a nice thing in the original stories that Sherlock Holmes is presented in the first few stories...he does sound like a misogynist, but he’s definitely not by the end of the stories. Absolutely not.

MG: I mean, to be rudely frank, if we put some of the original lines in from Sherlock Holmes, that would definitely be--because he says it explicitly “‘Women are never to be entirely trusted, Watson, not the best of them’”. And, I mean that’s a pretty strong statement. That’s clearly where he is; that’s not where he ends up.

SV: TRUE, obviously!

BH: I mean there are echoes of other stories, yet when you first told us that this was based on a couple of lines about Ricoletti, but of course there are much bigger stories that you’ve used. What were the things that we might not have even noticed that you’ve used?

MG: Well, I suppose, you know, Moriarty and the wedding dress is a little nod to a story called “Shoscombe Old Place”, which is actually a man disguised as a woman at the end. In the Jeremy Brett series, Jude Law, non-speaking, of all people. There’s obviously “The Five Orange Pips”, there’s a bit of “Blue Carbuncle”. The Club Foot is a disguised Chinese joke ‘cuz it’s “Ricoletti of the club-foot” and then we decided his opium den is called The Club Foot, so we had it translated. Apparently, it’s correct but it’s too modern--

SV: Yes, but it’s all in his head!

MG: It’s fine, it’s all in his head!

AA: It’s supposed to be!

MG: Note to self: always do things in people’s heads!

BH: Was it difficult to, particularly for example with Mary’s character, think “How are we going to put her back in that era?” and we’ve got the spying thing, what other elements to keep it interesting...That particular element fascinates me how bringing loads of modern characters we know...and did you have big discussions about how you were going to do that?

SM: Well the problem was we had so little time to do it because you know you’ve had a major revelation about Mary. Mary is not who you thought she was in the previous episode. She can’t just go back to, as I said earlier, go back to what she was before. She’s got to be super good at this. So she’s got to be super good at it in the Victorian version, where she actually solves the crime, and indeed in the modern version, actually solves it as well! Because if we did anything else, then it would be like we’d forgotten. She’s the professional looking after our two bumbling amputants (?).

BH: In the scene where you’re filming the plane which we’ve seen in the previous episode...people might think “Oh! You’ve somehow sneakily filmed those scenes while you were filming the end of the previous episode”.

SV: No, no!

SM: I see a pained look on Mark Gatiss’s face. I can’t imagine what he’s going to say.

MG: It’s really the height of that set. But as Sherlock Holmes himself says “‘For a tall man to take a foot off his height is no laughing matter!’”. I really did do most of it like that *bends neck to side* because we recreated the plane, couldn’t get Bruce Dickinson’s jet back.

SV: Well, just half of it, actually. Wasn’t it? Half of the plane.

AA: Yeah, that was a long day!

SM: And what I think is amazing is that’s not the airstrip. You know, it looks identical to the one in--

MG: In Bristol.

SM: And it was just the back of the studio. It looks properly identical, doesn’t it?

AA: Yeah, it does.

SM: And there’s no plane on it!

SV: And just a bit of the door.

SM: Yeah, that’s all there is.

MG: That shot as the car pulls in is literally just the door.

AA: It was really icy, I remember it being really icy that day. All of us precariously slipping. I remember.

MG: And a brilliant wig.

SV: A wig! Because Benedict’s hair!

BH: We kept saying in the interviews how thrilled he was not to have his frizzy hair. He could just have it slicked back in the period version.

MG: As you know, that was Benedict’s first and only response to the idea. “Can I have a haircut?”

SV: It was a brilliant wig, actually.

AA: It was a great wig, actually! Yeah, it was really good.

MG: But you see now, we’ve got that amazing mask from “The Empty Hearse”, we’ve got a brilliant wig...Benedict’s not available, we’ll just--He’s asleep!

AA: Anyone, yeah. And then he can just do voice-over.

SM: And CGI will help…!

BH: What was the hardest scene to film? I’m thinking of the slow-motion scene on the street where Lestrade is explaining the case...Seemed like a pretty spectacular moment with loads of extras in the background, presumably CGI…

SV: Yeah, that wasn’t the hardest, I don’t think--

MG: Reichenbach.

SV: No, it was the Reichenbach Falls, definitely. Plus the amount we had to do in the time...It was a really full day.

MG: And, as Sue said, logistically, carriages, horses...there was a very big day, in Bristol, of the traffic back and forth...and that’s just literally green screen one side of the street, and then you green screen the other end and the same people go the other way. Creates a mass of people, but God it’s time consuming.

AA: But those scenes as well, when Sherlock’s rooms were put actually outside into the street...we were filming at night outside the club and that just felt very long because we had to do loads of different shots and cut-away shots...it was fun, though.

SV: Yeah, I think the hardest thing with that was the lighting because you’re using outside light and then you’ve got to make it feel like it’s inside. That was a balance.

AA: Yeah...and also hiding everything, as well. To make sure people couldn’t see what was going on because that’s quite a--

MG: But again, you know, people were very good--

AA: They were brilliant.

MG: I remember, in “The Reichenbach Fall”...’cuz you know, you’re at Barts, it’s very open, anyone could come by, really, and they did...and I remember we were looking at Benedict on the pavement covered in blood, clearly dead, and I looked round and said “You’re spoiling it for yourselves, you know”. No one ever said anything, and it’s good.

SV: We did shoot a whole lot of stuff that wasn’t in it!

MG: Yes we did!

AA: Oh, you did something with Andrew, didn’t you, like shaking hands?

SV: Yeah, you and Andrew!

MG: That was later, this was in the first...

BH: Was that in this episode?

MG: No, no that was for “The Empty Hearse”. We filmed an entire fake scene where Mycroft and Moriarty shake hands and at the last minute, I said “Maybe put Benedict’s coat on! That’ll do it!” Nonsense!

SM: And then you have the director standing there saying, “Can I shoot the actual show, now? Are we finished?”

AA: “Time is pressing on!”

SM: “Something nice...something we can actually put on television!” We’re waking up fans!

BH: Was it hard keeping the modern day shooting bits secret?

MG: Yes.

SV: Yeah, ‘cuz we had the--

AA: We had the cemetery, didn’t we?

MG: But actually, we were lucky. We were sort of in and out. People did turn up...And then there was the bit when Benedict apparently wakes up again...but it didn’t get out, really.

AA: Yeah, it didn’t. They took little pictures but nobody really commented on it. That was one of my favorite bits when you’re in Sherlock’s room with Moriarty and then it starts to move and it’s like the plane landing. That, for me, was like a real--

BH: That was brilliant.

AA: “This is so good! What’s gonna happen now?” Then it lands...it’s so good.

SM: So you don’t remember we sat in this plane before. It’s good that you’ve forgotten.

AA: No, I kind block things out. It’s a good job because I know--

MG: She deletes things like Sherlock!

AA: I did know what was happening in the fourth series, not a clue now! It’s all gone, it’s all fallen out!

SM: “Mark and Steven talking...delete that!”

AA: But it’s good, though, ‘cuz I do tend to spill the beans a bit, so it’s very good that I can’t actually remember!

MG: This is absolutely true, this is a revelation...When we were at Tyntesfield, which was the big house, Lord and Lady Carmichael’s house...and we were outside, it was freezing cold, and I said something to Benedict about the fourth series, a big thing, and I thought “God, he isn’t supposed to know that!” And then I thought, “I don’t think he’s really heard…No, he hasn’t...No, he hasn’t!” “What was it?” “I’ll tell you later!”

SV: Really!

MG: I just went “God…” I thought I was talking to myself.

AA: Are you not telling us stuff?

SM: Oh no, there’s loads we’re not telling you!

MG: It was really funny.

SV: There was a day--well, it wasn’t really because you had already started writing--but there was that little bit when the show went out, you go “Oh phew, no more secrets!” and then you go “Oh, no we’ve got series four, now!”

SM: There’s one coming up in this series where we just agree that this will never be written down. It’s usually dialogue from Mycroft that Mark will just do on the day.

AA: Oh, really?

SM: Oh, yeah.

MG: That’s what this bit in “His Last Vow” is never written down, precisely for the reason that it wouldn’t get out.

SV: Oh yes, I remember.

AA: Which bit?

SM: Uh….

AA: Unbelievable!

SV: I know...I’ll tell you later!

AA: I get it.

SM: I don’t know if we can trust you!

AA: No, no you can! I’ll forget about it as soon as we leave! I’ll be like “What’s this?”

SM: We are on camera now! I mean, that’s the key thing!

AA: I keep forgetting, yeah, sorry...See! I forget!

SM: I can see that you’re alive!

MG: We need one of those “Men in Black” pens!

AA: What’s this? What’re we doing?

BH: So you don’t tell the cast the general big things until they actually sit down and read the finished script. Is that your rule or do you…?

MG: As a rule of thumb, for the last few years we’ve done a general pitch of big things, but--

SV: “It’s a lie!”

AA: You said you get everybody in and you tell them their storylines but not in a particularly complicated way, so you have the gist of what you’re going to do.

SM: Partly because they aren’t written down!

SV: But you didn’t know, for instance, in “His Last Vow”, you didn’t know that you shot Sherlock.

AA: God, no I didn’t at all, no, and when I read that I was like “Oh, God this is gonna be amazing and everyone’s gonna hate me!”

MG: It’s because you want to keep the secret from everybody. I know, as a reader, if you have something spoiled, it works the same as if you’re sitting at home.

SM: When I was first in telly, I used to work with this director called Bob Spiers, brilliant director...and he always used to say “The most valuable thing, the most important part of my work on an episode is reading the script for the first time, and I want to know nothing. I want to be the viewer. ‘Cuz that’s what I’ll remember; I will remember the first time I read it, and that’s what I’m trying to do on television.” He used to get very cross with me if I even said a word about what I was doing, so apparently I used to open up a bit more when I was younger and nicer! And he’d say “No, don’t tell me! I’ll read it! Do not tell me a single thing before I read it.”

AA: Wow…

SM: So, I mean, he’s right.

SV: Also, the actors get the scripts quite late, don’t they, really, ‘cuz you get them much later--

SM: Oh, always bring that up!

AA: No, but it’s true, though, Steven!

SV: The reason being...the production will have them much earlier and the costume will have them much earlier because you’re always playing with dialogue until quite late. It’s silly to have actors having the wrong dialogue, so you get them really quite late.

MG: Also, people get terribly attached to things, and that’s awful!

AA: Yeah, they do, we do! It’s happened before, I’ve had early drafts and then I’ve gone “Where’s that lovely scene gone?”

MG: “I thought I was in this!”

AA: “They’ve cut me! Why have they cut me?” So it’s always nice when you get the final one and you go “This is pretty locked, now!”

SV: “Yes, shooting tomorrow!”

AA: “Can’t take it back!”

SM: Until the cutting room!

MG: Your beard went, didn’t it?

AA: Yeah, my beard, yeah…

BH: Oh, you had a beard?

AA: I did, I had a long sort of Santa beard, we called it a “Santa beard”! Didn’t work. It was distracting.

MG: Especially with the mouse tied to the end! Go on.

BH: Did you have any other versions of the characters we know now, that you wanted to try out? Molly, as a man, was fantastic.

SM: I remember we did toy--and it was very unpopular with everyone except me and Mark--of having Andrew Scott made-up to be like the Moriarty of the Victorian version. The long greasy hair, the sort of unattractive--

SV: Yeah, it was a dreadful idea. We looked at the pictures!

SM: And everyone just saying “No, no he’s gonna be attractive.” And Mark and I just said “Wrong!” “Don’t care!” And I had to come out of this tour (?) meeting with everyone just hitting me and Mark wasn’t there and I said, “Mark, that’s not going to happen. He’s gotta be handsome.”

SV: But in the illustrations, he’s all raggly…

SM: It’s authentic, darling, authentic is the word you’re looking for.

MG: It makes logical sense, but it just didn’t work. It looked odd on Andrew’s face, as well.

AA: Did you try it on him?

MG: He did get the wig on.

AA: Did he have a go? Wow…

MG: But we sort of had to make him look older...

SM: Trouble is, it’s not a thing that people know. Moriarty has never, apart from the Brett series, ever been made to look like he does in the story. Ever. No one’s ever done that.

SV: There’s a reason for that.

SM: If you enter the word “Moriarty” into Google Images, I bet you get Andrew Scott. That’s what people think Moriarty looks like.

BH: A handsome man.

MG: What was the question? I forgot.

BH: Whether there were other, so that was-

MG: Oh, yeah, I was gonna say about Molly, that was very interesting...in the back of my head there was a real case, the Crimean War, extraordinary story, a surgeon called Doctor James Barry...amazing, very very talented surgeon, died, and was discovered to be a woman, and lived her entire life in order to get where she wants to be in a man’s world.

AA: Wow.

MG: It’s an amazing story.

AA: That’s incredible.

MG: I think, actually, still buried as a man.

SV: Really?

MG: Yeah. There’s a precedent, I think, inside this crazy fantasy for trying to get ahead and making people a fortune in fake mustaches.

BH: Well that...she seemed to love doing that.

SV: She did.

AA: She was great. She looked fantastic, it was really good. I loved that scene when Martin just goes like that *mimics tipping hat gesture*. So beautiful. It’s such a lovely touch.

SM: They are all blind, that’s clearly a woman. For God’s sake!

MG: It’s all in his head, it’s all in his head...

AA: It’s all in his head!

SM: Can we say that for the future episodes as well? He hasn’t woken up!

AA: He’s just constantly sleeping!

SM: He dozed off in the car!

SV: They can cut back to him with his mask on!

BH: Well, absolutely! Talking of things that are in his head, we do see the notebook, Mycroft’s notebook, with “REDBEARD” clearly spelled out at the top, so what’s the significance of that?

SV: Well they won’t tell me, so I doubt they’re going to tell you!

MG: The thing is, you see...we knew we were doing this, but by having that scene at the end, where we go back to Victorian London, Victorian Baker Street, and Sherlock explicitly says, “It’s an imagined version of how I think the future might be”. We have really opened a ridiculous window that the entire series of Sherlock might be the drug-induced ravings of the Victorian Sherlock Holmes, which means we can do absolutely anything!

SM: From now on, it’s just a Victorian man being silly!

AA: The whole thing!

BH: Except being very clever, ‘cuz he’s imagining it very accurately what the world’s gonna be like! SM: Well notice how he always solves those crimes and his deductions are always right, however improbable! It’s pretty obvious.

MG: All continuity errors because of that-

AA: Yup.

MG: And we’re doing a black and white one where they fight the Nazis next.

AA: And there’s one with me with a beard. We are gonna go back to that! It’s so funny ‘cuz a lot of people think Redbeard is my dog-

MG: It’s your beard! AA: It’s my beard! That’s what it is! Redbeard is my beard...But they think Redbeard in “His Last Vow” is-

MG: Your dachshund!

AA: My big, Arthur dachshund. My big red dachshund.

MG: But it’s a big…

AA: I know, but he’s got-

MG: False perspective!

AA: Very, very large…

SM: It’s all a dream! Oh wait, it’s not that one.

AA: No, it’s not that one.

SV: But we’ve seen Redbeard, though.

SM: Not with the dream.

AA: Whenever I tweet a picture of Arthur, they go “Is that Redbeard?” and it’s like “No…” but he’s got the essence of Redbeard, which I quite like.

BH: In your mind, he could be Redbeard! AA: He is Redbeard in my mind, yeah.

BH: ‘Cuz we have never met the dog; we know that much, but you don’t want to say anymore about why...it’s obviously written...

AA: I love Mark. I love him.

MG: There’s other things in that journal.

SV: I know there were.

MG: On the other page, which we didn’t shoot, there’s just drawings of cock and balls that Mycroft does in his idle hour. Hairy ones!

SV: On the DVD extras!

MG: It is the original notebook from “A Study in Pink”, though. It’s what he’s always had with him.

BH: I’m going to ask you another stupid question, but you know, I just want to have the answer. Is Moriarty absolutely, 100% definitely dead?

SM, MG, SV: Yes.

BH: Alright, okay that’s fine.

SV: Oh...you didn’t say yes.

AA: Yes…!

SM: Yes.

MG: She’s deleted that!

AA: Yeah, who? Who’s this now?

MG: Yes he is.

BH: But of course, then he says “I know what he’s going to do next,” or I’m paraphrasing…

SM: Yeah he does.

AA: He does.

BH: Very confused.

MG: It’s almost like it’s designed to be a massive cliffhanger! It’s almost sure that it won’t come back for a year!

SM: Do you mean we might be withholding information and possibly being deceptive in some way?

MG: Yeah.

BH: Okay, fine. What we do know is that Moriarty is a key part of his Mind Palace...that kind of very important element, I suppose, as you said before, we’ve seen him as an important foil, mentally, so we could be seeing more of Andrew Scott, is what I’m saying. As a huge fan of his version of Moriarty, we may see way more of him--Sue’s just laughing at me, openly!

SM: I think what we could say is that we may or may not see more of Andrew Scott’s Moriarty. I think we can all get behind that. Amanda doesn’t have a clue what we’re talking about.

AA: I have no idea who you’re talking about now. Andrew who? I don’t know who that was?

BH: Did you go back and watch, as I did, the episode again, knowing--I mean, you knew all along where the story was going--but it’s amazing the little hints you have, you establish all the way through...There’s one bit...the scene where Sherlock suddenly talks about “he” rather than “she”...

AA: Yes. Yes.

MG: Moriarty is the virus in the data.

BH: As a viewer, have you watched it again?

AA: Yeah, I’ve watched it ’cuz my son likes to watch it a lot, and both Joe and Gracie...

MG: Kind of like a CBeebies panto! “Again!”

AA: “Behind you!” Literally, behind you! So I watch it with them and they...I mean, Joe picked up on that a lot: “Why is he saying ‘data’?”, which was quite cool. And yeah, we watch it a lot, ‘cuz it’s a brilliant episode.

MG: You may come again.

AA: Thank you very much.

BH: Did that line about the data...did that come to you like that…?

MG: Well it’s an extrapolation from the books about the “crack in the lens”, you know, “the fly in the ointment”.

SM: But also he could say “virus in the data”. There’s nothing to stop him from saying [it]. The word “virus” was around, the word “data” was around. But Sherlock Holmes is always talking about data, always in the original stories.

MG: “Give me data.”

SM: “Give me data.”

MG: It’s a point...it goes suddenly close on Mycroft and there’s a certain knowingness.

SM: At that point, you should be starting to think there’s something off-kilter here, ‘cuz we know that label wasn’t there, you see the “Miss me?”...I think you’re starting to think “This is building towards something and it’s not quite as real as we thought it was”. I think, well I don’t think you think that, but...I mean, we were in the cinema and you could see people starting to go “Oh, what? What? That’s not…”

SV: And he’s got the label, but he wouldn't have had time to get the label.

BH: I’m going to try to get some hints about series four.

SV: Can you let me know if you get any?

BH: Yeah! So, will the series be set straight after “The Abominable Bride” or will some time have passed?

SM: It may--

AA: I love this.

SM: Or may not be set after…

AA: I love your perseverance, though, Boyd.

BH: Thanks. Thanks, Amanda.

AA: I love the fact that you might get a kernel of truth or hint.

SV: ‘Cuz the Moriarty... I need to know if I may or may not…!

BH: Yeah, you’ve got to be upfront! He’s a busy man!

MG: That goes for everyone!

BH: Okay, so--

MG: Just that blank one.

SM: The blank one. Yes, that is a good one, actually!

BH: That is a really good one! So nothing…?

MG: Well, Sherlock Holmes is in it...and Dr. Watson…

SM: We do address the outstanding issues.

BH: Okay.

SV: And it’s modern-day.

SM: It’s modern-day.

MG: Mary Morstan...Mary Watson is in it.

AA: Hello. Molly’s in it.

MG: Molly’s in it, Lestrade’s in it…

SV: You’re in it.

AA: Mrs. Hudson’s in it.

MG: Mrs. Hudson’s in it...some parts of it take place in Baker Street...That’s a bit of a revelation!

AA: I can’t wait to read it! I can’t wait!

BH: Do the two of you [Mark and Steven] spend a lot of time together thrashing out what the general, the gist…?

MG: Have you seen that scene in Women in Love, in front of the fireplace?

BH: Yes, yes I have! Sue’s horrified! Oliver Reed wrestles naked with Alan Bates! AA: They tend to do that a lot in the green room!

MG: But I wear the fat suit! SM: And honestly, so do I!

MG: Well we’re trying to schedule dinner to actually talk more in-detail about episode three in the next few weeks. That’s when we sort of “slug it out”. And a lot of stuff comes out of that...and the same as we said before, a very exciting way, it is just fun to throw things--ideas--at the wall. Not things!

AA: Do you have your plot points?

SM: Yes.

AA: You do know the trajectory…?

SM: We know the big things that we’ve got to hit, so we already know what those are, really, for all three, but how you get there...sometimes we surprise each other with how we’ll get there. Yeah, we know the big things arriving, the big moments.

MG: And it’s big, we can tell you that. We said it already...there’s some big stuff this series.

AA: You said it’s really dark, didn’t you?

SM: It’s going dark--

MG: Actually, it’s ‘cuz of the lighting bills!

AA: Were you just talking about the lights have gone off? “It’s really dark!”

SM: I mean, I think it’s [Sherlock] always quite dark, but...what can we say? Sometimes series three was almost like “Everything’s lovely”, for a while.

MG: It was a deliberate thing-

SV: He got shot!

AA: Yeah, but the second episode…!

SM: There are bound to be ups and downs in any complex friendship.

MG: We did make [episodes] one and two, actually more light-hearted because we knew he was gonna shoot Magnussen...And we deliberately set out to make it like the “best times” for the three as a new team. They would really have a great time. And the special, weirdly, does bridge that, in so many ways. Even though Mary is very proactive and a huge part, it’s sort of a breathing space between “Vow” and the next one.

AA: But also, in the special, what I love, is you get them back together again. You feel like John and Sherlock are on their little journey, d’you know, it feels like that. You see their relationship again, and I like that.

BH: And I also think, for example, Mycroft thinking about Sherlock and the drugs and worrying about him...that element of things could be drawn out more, perhaps, in the next series? Is that fair?

MG: You might think I could possibly--well, you know, we’ve always said...the thing about Mycroft is that he cares enormously. It’s all from a place of care. He doesn’t like anyone to know that, he tries not to. In “His Last Vow”, when he sort of opens his heart...

AA: That’s my favorite line in the whole episode.

MG: And it is because he’s been drugged! He goes “What is that…?”

AA: But the way you say it: “It would break my heart”.

SM: And then he goes in through the door and says to his mum “I also think you’re wonderful.”

MG: And then collapses!

SM: Calling his PA to say “You’re wonderful.”

MG: My favorite bit in that whole episode...I think a brilliant scene, with you and Martin, is so moving.

SV: Yeah, it is.

MG: But then, as you collapse in his arms, Sherlock just goes “Don’t drink the tea!”

SM: That gets a huge laugh every time! And I laugh every time. I don’t quite know why...I think it’s the change in pace: it’s been this lovely intimate moment, she’s unconscious, “Don’t drink the tea!” It’s more or less saying “Did you forget what show this is?”

AA: Yeah! I love those series of scenes that lead up to Magnussen being shot. From the minute where I say “We’re doing this today, are we?”. And then it’s the flashback, and you build up to that amazing crescendo and it’s just...it’s those two as well going…!

SV: All yours, as well.

MG: Now six foot seven…

SM: Thanks. Well, I’m glad that’s settled now!

AA: That’s on record now, Sue!

SM: I never like to ask!

BH: Will Louis [Moffat] be returning? Yeah, that’s the question...

SV: Louis’s got a whole plan about having-

SM: A spin-off series.

SV: A young Sherlock series.

MG: Six foot seven and retired! It’s been so long! It’s been so long.

SV: So there’ll be the Molly and Mary…

AA: Molly and Mary.

SV: And the young Sherlock.

SM: Lou and Mike.

AA: Milly, Mory, Mary. Mory. You could do Milly, Mory, Mary.

BH: These are all great ideas.

AA: They all live together in a flat! It’s a sitcom!

MG: I like the sit!

BH: In terms of the stories that you’re using as inspiration for the new series...there was one point, I remember, where you revealed kind of one word...was that series three?

MG: We will do that again, but not yet!

SM: We haven’t worked out what the words are!

MG: That’s very true. But also, you know, happily, it’s not that far away, ‘cuz having had the special January, series four will be next year as opposed to a two-year gap. So it’s shorter.

AA: And we’re nearly into February!

MG: We are nearly into February! So we’ll tease out these things, we don’t give anything out in a splurge since we don’t know what they are yet. It’s tough, that.

SV: Well-covered for a bit, there!

SM: Thing is--those single word ideas, the hints--already worked for series two, just coincidentally. Not necessarily going to work perfectly for every series!

BH: Would you ever do episodes which are pretty much not based particularly on…?

SM: Well, we sort of do, really.

MG: “The Abominable Bride” is largely an original story. I mean there’s fragments and there’s definitely jumping-off points. I think, probably, “Study in Pink”-

SM: And “Hounds”...

MG: And “Belgravia” and “Hounds”, are the ones that have most of the framework. But we’re always just looking at favorite bits, and always rediscovering bits. I’ve said this before, “A Case of Identity”--beautiful, tiny story--which we used like three times, little bits of, because you couldn’t really do it. It works on the page, but there are certain parts of it which are so touching and brilliantly written...that whole thing about “procrastination on the doorstep always means an affair of the heart”. And if she pulled the bell pull off, it would definitely be serious. Lovely stuff. So it’s always worth going back to Doyle, that’s what we always do: go back to Doyle and you’ll find the answer there, and also new inspiration.

SM: And the details you’re getting...because the plots are...only “Baskerville” is really long enough. But there’s so many details that people don’t know about. [A] friend of mine started actually reading Sherlock Holmes because of our series and was quite startled by how much of it we just stole from [Doyle]. And having said to me “That’s not a rip-off.” We are explicitly adapting Sherlock Holmes!

BH: I mean, you could go back to Victorian London, in terms of you could have more scenes set in his Mind Palace, where he is going back?

MG: Well, remember-

SV: Oh, please don’t! MG: Thing is, it’s not just his Mind Palace. Mycroft says explicitly “It’s a memory technique.” In both occasions where we’ve gone into it...In “His Last Vow”, he’s been shot and is obviously doped to the eyeballs, and in “[The] Abominable Bride”, he’s high...so it’s a particular thing. We could do it, of course, but he’d have to sort of take a seven percent solution again, or more.

SM: I think it was a lovely thing to do. I think we’ve done it.

BH: Is there ever anything that people don’t notice, at all, that you’ve done?

MG: Yes.

SM: Yeah.

MG: Usually, when you try to be bleat and obvious, then they pick up on things. It’s all in his head!

BH: It’s all in his head.

SV: I can’t think...did I miss anything?

SM: I think there’s still an ongoing element that people haven’t really picked up on.

SV: Oh…

SM: I think.

SV: Including me, obviously!

AA: Yeah, I’m intrigued!

SM: Yeah, I think there’s…

AA: Is there?

SM: Stuff to come.

BH: An ongoing element…

SM: Stuff to come.

AA: Really…

MG: When you can say things very explicitly, people always get the wrong instinct, except the odd one. It was a bit like the theories for how’d he done it. Of course, someone was gonna guess it because, you know, there’s only so many ways you can fall off a building. Then, talking about reviews, there was a strange review which said “They’ve even put in the squash ball, which is a popular fan theory”. It’s in “The Reichenbach Fall”! That’s how he did it! That was our solution…”Oh, yeah they’ve copied that!”

SM: In advance, which is the worst kind of copy.

MG: Oh yeah, I love that.

SM: When you preemptively copy something, I think you’re taking plagiarism too far.

BH: Well, thank you all very much for this look back at “The Abominable Bride”.

MG: Ta.

SM: Well done.

BH: Sue, Mark, Steven, and Amanda, thank you so much.

AA: Thanks.

BH: Hope we’ve answered-

SM: Nothing.

BH: Some, if not all, of your questions.

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