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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 3-16: 海水与火焰 Seawater & Flames Translation

“From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

The air was heavily permeated with the acrid smell of food that had long since turned bad.

Hemp rope, capsules, and many pieces of orange-coloured origami paper littered the ground by my feet.

MC: This is…

Every piece of origami paper that laid scattered on the ground had fold marks, some of it was even complete, folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Origami butterflies, the security guard, racing… The image of a young woman entered my mind.

Osborn: The sound we heard earlier came from over there.

I looked towards a corner of the room. There was a row of tall shelves, blocking the view of the people who were hidden behind. Light shone forth from behind the shelves, casting shadows.

I heard the hiss of tape, along with the sound of heavy and ragged breathing. The person being restrained sounded like they were in great pain.

??: I don't have the time to be playing games with you!

Osborn exchanged a glance with me. Understanding passed between us as we both silently approached the other end.

Through the gaps between the shelves, I could see the same who'd assaulted me back then. He was using hemp rope to tie a woman down on a chair.

The woman cried out, struggling vehemently against her binds. So much, that it enraged the man who then kicked her chair, making it topple right over!

MC: !

I caught sight of a familiar face the moment the chair fell onto the ground.

Lin Yao's agent!?

I felt an iciness creep up my heart. I pulled at Osborn to nab his attention and lowered my voice into a whisper.

MC: I recognize the person who's being bound to the chair. She's the mother and agent of the star, Lin Yao.

The light in Osborn's eyes dimmed a tad before he made a shushing motion.

Man: You should have thought about your fate when you locked her up in the attic back then, abusing her every day.

Man: Hurry and sign that agreement contract! ...Do you hear me!? Otherwise… Otherwise, I will make you disappear; forever!

The bound agent could only vehemently nod in response, gripping onto the pen that had been shoved into her hand and signing the contract with much difficulty.

After a period of silence, the man laughed; a laugh so solemn and tragic.

Man: This is how it should be. Her contact has been dissolved; she's finally free…

Did he kidnap the agent just to dissolve Lin Yao's contract? To grant her freedom? But I didn't interact much with her… So, why would he have attacked me?

Before I could wrap my head around it, I suddenly saw the gleam of a sharp and deadly blade flash in his hand…

Not good!

The shelf we'd been hiding behind was knocked over by a well-timed kick as Osborn threw a couple of fallen debris his way with startling speed and accuracy.

Clatter!

The small knife fell onto the ground.

The man angrily got up and turned around to see just who was behind him… Only to be surrounded and trapped by blue fire!

He wailed in pain, falling to the ground. However, his eyes remained fixated to where the contract had fluttered to a rest. He reached out to the piece of paper, grabbing ahold of it.

Was he laughing; or was he crying? I don't know. His shaky hand reached out, picking the contract up and carefully safekeeping it in his inner breast pocket.

The agent twisted, making muffled cries for help. Her once prideful and haughty face was now marred with a multitude of wounds.

I stepped up and tore the tape that sealed her mouth off.

Agent: H-Help me!

Agent: He's a madman!

Agent: You're police, right? Hurry and arrest him and get me out of here!

Agent: That madman caught me yesterday, insisting that I sign a contract to dissolve my contract with Yao'yao.

Agent: Quick! Get me the contract so that I can rip it apart!

Man: Give it a rest! Over my dead body! I won't let you control her again.

Agent: Stop daydreaming! I'm Lin Yao's mother. She WILL listen to whatever I say.

Man: You are not worthy.

Hearing the agent’s words, the man suddenly got even more agitated. His face was pinched in a pained look.

Man: Just what do you see her as? A money tree!? I should have stopped her from going with you at the orphanage back then!

Man: She was so elated when she went off with you back then, thinking that she'd finally have a family…

Agent: Back then? Are you from the orphanage too? You're a kid from that place!

Man: That's not all. I almost got adopted by you, mom.

The fragments finally pieced themselves together in my mind, forming the full picture.

Lin Yao was a child whom the agent had adopted from the orphanage, and she knew this man since childhood. Hence, Lin Yao’s friend who liked racing should be none other than him.

But for some reason or another, this was also the same man who’d vanished for a long time. After his return, he learnt that Lin Yao was being harshly treated and coerced against her will by the agent. So, he kidnapped her and coerced her to sign a termination agreement instead.

The agent instantly shot up from her spot, seemingly wanting to retort back about something. However, her body swayed twice before she fainted, collapsing onto the ground.

Osborn picked up the small discarded knife that had fallen onto the ground, holding it up and pressing it to the man’s neck.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.

Man: This has nothing to do with you, Osborn!

Osborn: Cut the crap.

Osborn: The attacks that have been happening recently. Were they all your doing?

Man: ...Yes.

After a moment of silence, Osborn took out a bracelet from his pocket…

It was the very same nameplate bracelet with the two-headed snake motif that I'd seen that day on the roof.

Osborn: This must be yours then, isn't it?

Man: My bracelet! Why do you have it!? You did THIS to me!!

Osborn: Don't move. Explain yourself.

Osborn: What purpose does this device serve?

Man: To stop us from going berserk.

Osborn turned the bracelet, angling it and pointing to the back.

Osborn: HCP18407. What is it?

Man: That's my name.

Osborn: You said "us" earlier. Who's "us"?

❖☆———————————★❖

The man seemed like he'd wanted to grin so wide that a smile split his face.

However, his skin was so bone-dry that it was clinging tightly to the bones with no give at all. It made moving a struggle for him, and the only thing that still retained its mobility was his eyes.

He laughed. Then, he shrugged his shoulders and started to whine pathetically.

Man: I don't know.

Man: We were kept captive; our names and existences erased. Everyone was given a number.

Man: Hearing, taste, touch… We were all slowly deprived of all senses

Man: In the end, we turned into beasts that had to rely on blood to survive.

He stared at the floor in a daze, his voice growing increasingly muffled.

Man: I witnessed my best bud turn into nothing but an empty shell with my own eyes. And the experiment failed on me, so I was discarded as if I was nothing but trash.

Man: I went through so much just to escape before I got annihilated. Ask just so that I could see Yao'yao!

Man: But without the daily supplement they gave, along with the bracelet's inhibition, I deteriorated by the day.

Man: When night falls, I can't stop myself from assaulting others…

Osborn: Night? But you assaulted her in broad daylight.

Osborn raised a finger and pointed back to me.

Man: I don't know. I suddenly smelt the strong scent of blood. Just like this smell now.

He raised his head to look at me with desire written all over his face. It looked as if he was positively ready to jump me the next second. Then, he struggled with himself, clutching at his neck and forcing himself to retreat a couple of steps.

Man: Her blood is potent and terribly enticing. It makes me lose my rationality. And I'd already attacked her by the time I came back to myself!

Man: I know that this is a crime, but I HAVE to survive.

Osborn fell silent for a long while before he spoke up once more.

Osborn: Who locked you guys up?

Man: I don't know… We're the basest of existence, so we're not allowed to know anything.

Man: I only know that those keeping us locked up were all people of the Blood Tribe.

Osborn: Did you see a man in his forties of medium build in that place? His glasses should have had the same motif that was on the nameplate bracelet.

The man instantly shook his head.

Man: There were only orphans there. All around the same age as me. I never saw anyone over the age of 30.

Knock… Knock…

A strange sound came from the glass windows.

Turning around, I saw a purplite bird knocking on the glass with its sharp beak.

Osborn froze, his expression instantly turned severe; something that I'd never seen on him. He released the man's collar, vehemently whipping around and tackling me.

Osborn: Get down!

CRASH!

The windows shattered, causing shards of glass to splinter in all directions!

A flock of purplite birds flew in front of the open window, swarming and attacking us all.

Osborn shielded me firmly beneath his body, unleashing his fire and making it form a barrier in front of us.

❖☆———————————★❖

The flapping of wings, the sound of impact being made; the shrill cries of the birds filled the dark room.

It was eerie enough to make one's hair stand on end.

The situation had taken a turn for the unexpected. There were sounds of footsteps coming from all directions. The shreds of orange origami paper fluttered in the air, like the broken wings of a butterfly, obscuring our vision.

After a good long while, the cacophony dissolved, and the man from earlier was nowhere to be seen. There wasn't even a single trace of him ever being there.

MC: Osborn, he…

Osborn: Let's get back out first.

I nodded and carried the agent, who'd lost consciousness, together with him, running out the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

I was momentarily blinded by the light when we got outside.

The abandoned building before me seemed so foreign and out of place, as if it were from a completely different world.

I couldn't help but look back at Osborn. He was holding tightly onto a watch, his gaze fixated on the two-headed snake motif on the centre of the clock face.

It was then that I finally understood; That the reason why he was looking for the bracelet up on the roof, and why he asked me what the meaning of this motif was outside the museum that day, had everything to do with that watch he held in his grasp.

And, he'd asked about someone earlier, as if he was trying to locate them.

I wanted to offer him words of comfort, but my attention was called away by the sudden shout. I turned towards the sound.

A plump man was waving his hand, running towards us.

??: Hey bro. I came here as soon as I got your message. What's up?

Osborn had already put away his watch. He glanced at me.

Osborn: He's Wen Wan. He'll send you home.

MC: What about you? Aren't you coming with us?

Osborn: There are still some things I have to clear up here.

MC: ...Are you going back to look for him?

Osborn: You've forgotten what I told you again.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more likely you are to-

His lips quirked up into an arc as he quietly averted his gaze elsewhere.

MC: Fine, be that way then… Stay safe.

Osborn: This is a walk in a park.

Osborn: You're that worried about me?

MC: I don't think things are as simple as it seems, and I'm worried that other dangers are lying in wait…

Osborn: Only because you have yet to realize just how dangerous I am.

He suddenly leaned down, opening my palm and depositing a handful of candy before he turned to leave, as free and easy as ever.

Osborn: She's all yours now.

I watched his gradually disappearing silhouette in the distance, tightening my hold on the bunch of lemon candy that he'd dropped off.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 3-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 3-19 Light) / (Chapter 3-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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sapphicdalliances · 3 years

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Dear Chocolatier,

thank you so much for being here!! my sincere apologies for the lateness and messiness of this letter! sorry about my incredibly inconsistent capitalisation! it has been updated on the 8th of january, and may receive more updates this week.

I’m a simple bitch with simple tastes; here is a general summary of my preferences, and fandom-specific notes and prompts can be found further down!

I very much enjoy:

Fics that are short, but imply a longer, deeper verse; since this exchange is for short fics, but some of my prompts seem expansive, I just want to give you carte blanche permission to dip into an AU, splash around in it, and simply not provide additional details.

Comedic tones, slice-of-life, lighthearted fun, any amount of improbable romcom tropes

Am also on board with misunderstandings and drama as long as there is a happy ending!

I’m deeply okay with AUs, and most likely would be down for any modern, romcom, fantasy/fairytale, gender swap, or remix/crossover AUs you feel inspired to explore! My favourite settings include mundane/urban fantasy (witches! werewolves!), anachronism-stew-with-magic western fantasy jumbles, and disney’s Tangled.

Writing tropes I love:

Proposal fic

Wedding fic where the couple getting married is not the main couple

Outsider/third character POV of the main couple

Exes who are still in love/getting back together

Friends-with-benefits-with-feelings/did a bad job keeping it casual

Shipfic where two or more couples are contrasted

Oblique declarations of love/saying i love you without saying i love you

Provision and caretaking (acts of service!)

Aggressive matchmaking/wingmanning by an enthused friend

Hanahaki, or any other improbably dramatic instances of Cannot Spit It Out

Arranged marriage/fake marriage/fake dating

Epistolary fic

Regrettably I also love a/b/o, especially the kind that emphasises on scent safety and contains little to no actual sex

Art tropes I love, if you offered art:

Art where the characters simply look fond.

Fashion remixes – street fashion, cultural/traditional clothes, festival clothes, renfaire-esque clothes, beach photoshoot, get wild with it

Putting animal characteristics on one or both of them

Botanical motifs + celestial motifs

When plants grow directly out of people

The thing where character A is focused on something they’re doing or seeing, and the character B is focused only, wholly, desperately on A. please… the Gaze

Depictions of intimacy where faces are partially or fully hidden, but the body language is gentle

Characters SLEEPING next to each other, or comfortably doing separate activities in each other’s presence

If you wish to get frisky with your fills:

Yes!

Go for it!

I don’t have strong top/bottom preferences (and usually enjoy it when they switch or are otherwise generally equitable) so whatever you’re in the mood for is fine!

Kink tropes I very much enjoy include oral, restraints, praise kink, when proud characters cry during sex because they love their partners so much, and xeno tropes.

I love non-horny sex scenes; comedic, silly, charged, fraught, or simply affectionate exchanges that happen to include sex are my favourite. Feelings are the real kissing disease.

But like, if you wanna get horny about it.

Chase your bliss.

They simply must be in love.

I’m not as into:

Kidfic

First person narration

Soulmate AUs specifically

Kink wise, my only major squicks are incest, teacher/student, and public sex/getting caught, but i’m also not super keen on daddy kink, toilet stuff, or anything with blades or needles.

In general, please avoid:

Character death or serious/permanent injury

Animal abuse or death

Infidelity

Hopeless or downer endings

Fandom specific info:

Haikyuu!!

changed my life, cured my depression, what can be said about it? truly one of the most important series to me of all time. all musings on craft and creativity aside, let’s focus on the TRUE LOVE!!

i’m all caught up with the manga and supplementary materials!

suggested prompts: - sakuatsu, being mean to each other on purpose vs. being soft to each other by accident - kagehina or iwaoi dealing with LDR - kyouhaba are forced to cooperate on an innocuous, preferably wholesome task, such as gardening, or finding the owner of a lost dog, and it goes approximately As One Would Expect - bokukuroo + overheard phone conversation: and you've slept together how many times now? hmm. yeah, that's not technically a bromance (not in a no-homo way, just in a we-are-both-so-stupid-and-like-each-other-so-much-way) - actually that overheard phone conversation would work for any of these ships.

suggested prompts, art-specific: - festival clothes!! - put some wings on some of them. now it's bird romance, which is for birds - (i lied, this isn't art-specific at all, wingfic is always welcome in any of its forms) - just pick up your whole boyfriend and carry him like that. maybe even kiss him.

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Oofuri

suggested prompts: - Hanai and Tajima really. struggle to get together. for like a bunch of years probably? Tajima copes with it by patiently processing his emotions in a healthy way and enjoying some casual dating. Hanai copes with it, as he does all things, by not coping - The ways Abe and Mihashi learn to take care of each other… Mihashi cooking 4 Abe… T_T

Promare

i simply think the twink and the himbo are in love.

Ace Attorney

favourite klapollo dynamic goes like this:

klavier: *genuinely and sincerely in love with apollo, in a very soft way* apollo: *furious* he's mocking me. why are you like this? klavier: I enjoy your company apollo: FINE, KEEP YOUR SECRETS

also consider: - what if klavier was a big ol golden retriever and apollo was just an angry liddol bunny. like, think about it

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Wotakoi

I love that this series has three couples in different stages of a relationship: one who’ve been together for years and love each other like well-worn grooves; one who have history but have only just recently begun a relationship and are discovering each other anew; and one who probably will not bring themselves to share a kiss for another 27 calendar years.

Narumi/Hirotaka: Honestly, the main couple of a series usually goes over my head a bit, but the more i thought about these two the more wretchedly fond of them I became. The thing I think of the most is how Narumi taught him how to smile as a child; how she did things that meant nothing to her, so easily does kindness come, but that meant so much to him; and how now that they are grown, he does things for her that take no effort, but shake her foundations. I think theirs is a love that grows quietly; something that cannot change the world, but can change them.

Koyanagi/Kabakura: My thoughts on these two are not complex, but they are deeply positive. I love how huge their personalities are, and how they fit around and against each other; I love the implication that despite their endless bickering, they are not an on-again-off-again kind of relationship, and have instead chosen each other over and over again for ten straight years. I love that despite everything, they are kind to each other, first and foremost; they find ways to apologise and to take care of each other, and treat each other gently in private.

Kou/Naoya: I love every ship in this manga equally but perhaps I love Kou/Naoya more equally than the other two? They are just so kind and so silly, and so sweet to each other in exactly the way both of them didn’t realise they were missing. I think about Naoya being told that Kou is “okay with being alone”, and realising that “okay with it” and “have accepted it” are different, and taking his little baby steps to fix it. I think about Kou giving Naoya every last drop of patience he’s trained himself not to accept, and doing so because it simply makes her happy. My only concern is that they are both bottoms. I don’t have a solution for this.

suggested prompts, fic:

- accidentally dating ft. Kou and Naoya, or, “and you’ve made out how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” - 5 times Hirotaka and Narumi almost, almost kissed, and 1 time they did; the unresolved romantic tension may kill me and it would be worth it - what Hirotaka and Narumi taught each other (apart from the more mundane gaming and life skills, i believe that she taught him how to smile and be loved by others, and he taught her how to be loved by herself!) - smutty domesticity ft. Koyanagi and Kabakura — a lazy Sunday, laundry in the sun, fucking on the couch, everything easy with familiarity - (addendum to above: pegging)

suggested prompts, art: - festival clothes - someone’s getting married - naoya: *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a t - red string of fate motifs

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun

seowaka: they are idiots, and they like each other very much, but they do not know. i love a tall crying boy and his short but much more powerful girlfriend.

chiyo/nozaki + chiyo/nozaki/mikorin: im rooting for her in the face of such overwhelming stupidity. one himbo is difficult enough to seduce but two. chiyo is a hero and a woman of rare courage. i like the pair and the trio equally; again, if you go with trio, it’s important that they all love each other please!

suggested prompts: - 5 times any of these ships went on a date without realising, and the time they realised - urban fantasy AU where Waka is a hapless monster hunter and Seo is an annoying but deeply harmless werewolf who’s been terrorizing his town?? - fairytale AU where Seo believes she must rescue the prince from the tower and deliver him back to the kingdom capital, and the prince, who had not realised he’d been kidnapped, thinks Seo is a usurper from a rival kingdom who must be supervised all the way back to the kingdom capital to be served her justice

suggested prompts, art-specific: - festival clothes… - nozaki carrying chiyo, who’s carrying mikorin - (seo carrying waka) - waka sleeping peacefully in seo’s presence… :’(

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

we made it through all the fandoms.

Thank you for making it to the end of this whole disaster; I hope at least one of the prompts sparked joy! The most important thing to me is that whatever you end up doing, you are able to enjoy the process at least somewhat, and deliver a creation that you like! I can also be found on twitter at @hawberries_ (for art) and @popplioikawa (for general ramblings). If you need some more inspo, I recommend going through my art tags for the selected ships because I put a lot of Opinions into my fanart.

#shut up phee #chocbox

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undignifiend · 3 years

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Theme Ramblings - On Evil, Honesty, Violence, and Better Ways to Rule Number Two (Local Windbag Spends All Night Pontificating Again)

I really like Trollhunters and Tales of Arcadia. I feel like it addresses important themes that I also want to address in my own writing, and I feel like that is part of what makes it an awesome world and story to explore, through the original stories, and through fanfiction. I find exploring ideas within an already established world is very helpful and therapeutic. So here are my current thoughts on some of those themes, which have also been informed by various other stories. Narrative is one of the ways through which we process the world. And one of my goals is to learn how to do that with clarity, practicality, and compassion. So here’s a bit of what I think I’ve learned so far.

Warnings: Talking about violence, with pain and trauma. Stay safe. Also, spoilers for Tales of Arcadia - Wizards, and for the film You Were Never Really Here.

+++++

‘Evil’ is not a word that holds a lot of weight with me, at least not the way I feel it’s commonly used, especially in stories. Some bully without any redeeming qualities beating someone up for a power trip is a common motif, but I don’t find it a compelling or useful model of how or why some people act shitty, or how to possibly fix it nonviolently. As something of a determinist, I don’t believe our decisions just pop out of a vacuum - rather, that they are informed by our experiences, which we react to in healthy or unhealthy ways depending on what we think we understand and what we want to protect.

Or at least I think that’s a nice idea, but I don’t know how practical it actually is. For instance, maybe there are actual people who are just idiots, cowards, or cruel and nothing more, and interacting with them in a good-faith manner is an entirely hopeless waste of our limited time - especially when those mofos are actively threatening people. “They’re complex people, too!” seems kind of irrelevant when they’re calling for killing those who disagree with them, for example.

Maybe I’m having trouble with this idea because I haven’t actually recognized such mind-numbing simplistic malice in anyone directly involved in my life. I’m starting to think I might be spoiled that way.

I also want to emphasize that I’m not even remotely claiming “Everyone is right in their own ways”. Some mofos out there are objectively incorrect. I’m currently convinced that we all think we’re right, but not that we all are. Or that even when we realize we’re wronging someone, we tend to spin narratives that twist the situation to make ourselves look better, or even like we’re “The Real Victims! D:” to justify and excuse something we may otherwise deem tragic.

What horrifies me (what I’ve witnessed) is when harm is done by people who think they’re doing the right thing, or that they’re justified, or that it’s normal. People who otherwise have potential to do good, making a selfish call out of fear, anger, apathy, a misplaced sense of righteousness, or even just a desperate and ill-advised attempt to feel seen or important. The ‘evil’ that scares me most is a loss of perspective that leads to (and justifies or excuses) tragedy. That loss of perspective, I also think, is a key part of what makes propaganda possible. Calling someone ‘evil’ is often intended to deface them and simplify them into a problem or obstacle to be rid of - no longer a complex individual, but a symbol of all that is wrong with the world - a bully or ‘monster’ without redeeming qualities. (Often represented as something “subhuman” that we supposedly don’t have to feel bad about killing.) An external threat to vanquish in favor of facing whatever horrible truth we’re running from, or what conditions led to people acting in these harmful, tragic ways. (And if we can understand those conditions, perhaps we can guard against them and hopefully even save some lives and change them for the better?) I think calling someone ‘evil’ is not only impractical (and useless when it comes to diagnosing why someone is behaving a certain way, or how to effectively either help them grow up or maybe at least help prevent them from causing more harm), I think it opens the door for otherwise good people to do horrific things, all the while avoiding the root of the problem, and calling themselves justified and heroic.

That’s part of why I’m so excited about Wizards. (Finally got to ToA!) I appreciated Arthur as an example of what’s familiar to me, and the kinds of thinking I want us to learn to recognize and avoid. His grief was relatable - we’ve all lost someone, and we all have people we want to protect. But it’s monumentally important that we don’t commit Arthur’s tragedy, and take our pain out on others. And it’s also important that we don’t dismiss the pain that others are struggling to cope with, as Arthur dismissed Morgana’s and the trolls’ when he called them evil. And part of why I genuinely like Arthur as a character (not just an antagonist) was that he came around and admitted that he was wrong, and wanted to repair the damage he did.

At least until his Green Knight chapter, the motivations of which I’m still unsure of. I’m not the sharpest crayon in the shed, but it seemed like a non sequitur to me... after a certain point. If you have some insight into what’s going on with him, I’m all ears. I’m a little worried I might just be projecting my issues again.

So far, here’s what I think I can glean: I relate to the lines “How can I be at peace when the world is still broken?” and “He awoke to a legacy of a violent and awful world.” I don’t want to get into the specifics of my own experiences, but I understand the horror of “waking up” to a horrifying reality, and the motivation to try to change it somehow. The all-consuming restlessness of it, and the inability to escape or reconcile it, and the constant, never-ending tension that slowly rips you apart and isolates you from everyone and poisons your faith in humanity because you’ve looked into the abyss so long you now recognize that it’s where you’ve lived all along. Because no matter what kind of new equilibrium you scramble for, the truth remains that terrible, unnecessary harm is being done, and will continue to be done (and justified and excused and even laughed at) by otherwise good people until we all die out - and that will be our legacy even as we continue to squawk empty platitudes about how intelligent and compassionate and special we are, and nothing makes any of that okay.

In my worst, most melodramatic moments, I even understand the ‘Let it all burn, if it can’t be saved’ mentality. But I don’t have a lot of patience for defeatism, so it’s not a mentality I can take seriously for long at all, and that’s where my understanding (if I may be so pretentious?) of the Green Knight stops. Because I know there are many others who have seen what I’ve seen and feel the same way I do, and believe that a better way is possible, however distant, and who have done loads more than I have to change it. And (perhaps more importantly) I know that even those who perpetuate some of the same harms I want to stop, and even crack jokes about it, are still good people who mean well, and have their own pains to cope with.

What I want is for us (and our heroes) to recognize when we are being dishonest or unfair, and to call ourselves out, even when it’s inconvenient (or when it feels impossible, like when we’re scared, angry, or hurt). I love and admire people who can face their feelings and uncertainties honestly, and I want to be like them, because I believe that’s the most important, constructive kind of courage there is, it’s part of growing into a stronger, kinder person, and this stupid world needs a lot more of that in it.

And I think the whole topic of Evil is connected to our fascination with violence, and those who are skilled at it. (Though I’m not here to say ‘Violence Bad’. I know it’s not that simple.) In some situations, no other method has a chance of saving you or those you want to protect, and if you find yourself in such a situation, it pays to be good at violence, and to have friends who are, too. The stakes are high, so it makes for great drama, and is prevalent in stories all over the world. This also makes it a rather dramatic delivery system for Justice - or the Retributive version, anyway. Retribution is visceral, and easily understood, and speaks to our instincts of promoting and preserving status (teaching others not to screw us over or They’ll Pay), and discouraging harmful behaviors by harming the perpetrators...

I consider myself a rehabilitationist. But I understand the draw of retribution. I really do. The vast majority of my intrusive thoughts revolve around it, in particularly violent manners. It’s not fun, and it doesn’t feel powerful, and it feels weird to me to see stories that portray it as powerful, rather than as a failure or a loss. I understand the emotional desire to punish someone who has hurt an innocent. But I also understand it to a degree that transcends its original feelings of righteousness, takes itself to eyebrow-raising extremes, and makes me sick. Retribution has been glorified all throughout our history, and it scratches a primal itch, and yes, sometimes it may be the only available answer in order to prevent further harm. (Rehabilitation requires far more resources than Retribution, often making it impractical or overly risky in contexts of scarcity. I think that’s a huge factor in why ideals like Law, Justice, and Decency break down in a lot of Post-Apocalyptic story environments. It’s not just that our sense of Order has collapsed, it’s that we no longer have the infrastructure to support the ideals that Order was established to protect - though I would Not say that our current “justice” system in the US is rehabilitative or even ethical, but that’s a whole other rant.) But beyond that, I don’t believe Retribution is practical or productive. I believe it’s tragically ironic, loses sight of context and systemic issues, lends false-credence to the idea that people are the way they are due to innate, immutable qualities rather than taking their environment and experiences into account, and as a result, opens the door for good people to, again, do and justify horrific things.

It’s a hard, brutal film to watch, but I recommend You Were Never Really Here. The violence in this film feels far more real than the violence I’ve seen in any other because they don’t dress it up, or make it flashy. It’s more like something you’d see in a hidden-camera documentary. And their honest treatment of it was a visceral reminder of what violence actually is.

It puts a gut-wrenching twist on the ‘revenge fantasy’ and what it actually means to watch someone suffer and die. Even someone who had it coming. There’s a painful empathy to this film in its treatment of the characters and all the rituals (harmful or not) they use to cope with the violence they in turn have suffered. And the climax of the film centers on the awful realization that, despite his efforts, the protagonist was unable to protect someone from violence, or having to inflict violence of her own - like him, she’s marked by it now, too. She absolutely did it in self-defense, but the fact that she had to do it is still tragic. She has to live and cope with it now, as he does. And in the final scene, there’s this hellish sense of separation between them as they are, and the comparatively bright, happy lives they might have lived if they had not had to go through such horrific experiences. It’s unstated, but there’s this intense feeling that they’re haunted. Like they can be near that bright, happy life, but never cross the veil to reach it, themselves. The film ends with the girl deciding to try and find some happiness anyway. (“It’s a beautiful day.”) It’s not a happy ending, but it’s a hopeful one. It’s not a Good Triumphs Over Evil story. It’s a painful confrontation with an awful reality, and the struggle to find a way to carry on somehow.

And that resonates. Because we all know to some degree or other what it’s like to confront something awful, something we can’t just deny or forget or reconcile, and to try to find some way to cope with it. That tension can be so painful that it’s understandable (but still not excusable) why people sometimes try to pin it all on a scapegoat - so they can take something insurmountable, and turn it into something they can fight and triumph over. It’s a form of processing our grief, but it’s unfair, dishonest, and harmful, and inflicts more grief on others.

Anyway, in this fanfic I’ve been puttering around on (and trying to explore these themes through), Jim tries to solve things non-violently (as he often tried to do in the show, which I really like). Someday/night, he might not have the option, or can’t see any other way out. He knows that he (or someone else) is being seen as an outlet for someone’s frustrations - they’re using him as a symbol to project their own problems and issues on - something external they can beat up and triumph over in place of something intangible.

If he’s going to fight this outlook, I think he has to understand it - on more than a theoretical level. He has to go there himself. Maybe he punches Steve after all. (Maybe in the 2nd draft - or maybe later in the current iteration.) And he hates it. He’s changed forever, but not the way he expected to be. He feels capable, and righteous, and he doesn’t regret standing up for Eli or himself, but he doesn’t feel good. Because even if it’s easier to just dismiss Steve as a bully, and even if it occurs to Jim to do that - and even if he can feel it viscerally for a moment, Jim isn’t going to lie to himself. He can still see what Steve is, past his own anger. Steve is lashing out because he feels wronged and powerless, and he’s acting like his dad because that’s who made him feel that way, and that’s who showed him how to deal with those same feelings. Steve is a kid trying to process what he’s been through. It’s easy to forget that when Steve is trying to beat Jim down - when Draal has been trying to beat him down, too - and he’s had enough of all these angry people twisting their ideas of him in their heads and taking their anger out on him. He fought back because he couldn’t see any other option for handling it, and Steve was not willing to give him one. But from this, Jim knows how it feels to be demonized (seen as a manifestation of someone’s problems, some enemy to vanquish). And it becomes monumentally important to him never to succumb to that way of thinking, himself.

He’s not a crusader. If he has to fight and hurt or kill someone, it’s not because he thinks they’re a manifestation of evil. It’s because he does not see any recourse in stopping them from hurting or killing others. To him, violence is a tragedy meant to prevent another tragedy. And whether that justifies it or not is a question he will have to carry.

A lot of the combat we see in media, I would classify as “action”, and not violence. The vast majority of the time, it’s a choreographed dance that’s fun to watch, full of cool stunts that look like they’d be fun to do. It’s more like competitive eye-candy than anything else.

It’s fun, and I like the idea of writing that, but only in the context of sparring, or play. I don’t even want to call those “fights” or make a distinction between those and a “real fight”, because fighting is violence, and I hope to write about violence as honestly as I can. That’s part of what I like and admire about a lot of Guillermo del Toro’s other works, too. It’s not a dance, and it’s not glorious*. It’s ugly, terrifying, and it hurts to watch, and it makes us worry for his characters all the more, because it forces us to acknowledge how vulnerable they really are.

*Or, glory as it’s often treated, I think. If there really is any glory to be had in real violence, I think it’s in the willingness to act in a crisis to protect others. Terror is notoriously paralyzing, so this is where the value of training comes in - as a kind of autopilot mode to fall back on, and suppress our panic in the moment. The emotional fallout and trembling will come after the crisis has passed, but in an emergency, not knowing what to do, and feeling helpless, can be one of the most devastating weapons against us.

Sparring and training can be a fun and exhilarating test of skill, where no one intends to maim or kill you. It’s completely different from fighting. In a fight, the goal is not to learn or grow or compete, the goal is to either kill someone, or hurt them so badly that they can’t try to hurt you (or anyone else) anymore (or enough to give you time to get away). It’s very stressful and often traumatizing. One wrong move will have lasting consequences, if you’re lucky enough to survive to put up with them. Even if you win, odds are, you’re going to get hurt - maybe permanently. It’s the visceral understanding that someone has decided to disassemble you, and the only way to stop them is to disassemble them first. It’s an ugly reminder of the components of our bodies, and how fragile they really are.

“There are better ways to finish a fight than punching someone in the face.”

I agree with this - there are better methods of conflict resolution, and we must use them. And I really like how Jim carried this forward in sparing Chompsky and Draal. But I also felt like Claire fundamentally failed to understand what she had witnessed (and maybe I’m the one who misunderstood). I just didn’t appreciate what I felt was a lecture from someone who didn’t get it. Not that I’d wish for her to get it - it’s a horrible position to be in. When someone is actively trying to hurt you, it’s hard as hell to remember those better ways, and there’s no guarantee that they would work - at this point, you have to get the attacker to stop quickly. Steve resisted all other attempts to defuse the situation, and I don’t think it’s fair to blame someone for fighting back.

“A hero is not he who is fearless, but he who is not stopped by it.”

But I’m also not going to put down someone who still seeks to defuse a situation, even despite the risks. That’s a huge gamble, and it requires a massive amount of courage and good faith in the other party, and it won’t always pay off. But when it works, I believe it can open up possibilities that might not otherwise exist, because to demonstrate good faith in someone is to demonstrate that you are Not The Enemy. I think Douxie demonstrated this marvelously with the Lady of the Lake in Wizards. He gave up the most powerful weapon he had - or what was left of it - to free Nimue rather than fight her when it looked like she was about to End everybody. Once he realized the truth of her situation, he took action to alleviate it - because he wasn’t going to beat up a prisoner, and he did not consider her imprisonment acceptable in the first place.

Jim is not a pacifist, in Trollhunters canon, or in the AU idea I’ve been messing with. He will fight to stop others from killing, and he might end up having to kill in the process if all other attempts fail. But (at least in this AU thing) he will see it as a tragic failure to bridge a gap. He refuses to succumb to the way of thinking that presents his opponents as evil, even if that would make it simpler for him to process their horrific actions. They’re living, complex beings, not symbols of everything wrong with the world. And often, the reason they’re trying to hurt others to begin with is because they have succumbed to that “seeing their opponents as evil” way of thinking, themselves. As Jim sees it in Building Bridges, that Lie is everyone’s greatest enemy. It’s part of what allows otherwise good people (like Arthur and Morgana) to do, justify, and condone horrific things.

He will fight if he must, but he will do his best to reach others first, to show them the truth, and try to find a way to effectively address whatever underlying pain is causing them to lash out. If Maria Edgeworth has a point about how “The human heart opens only to the heart that opens in return,” Jim will transcend “human” by taking the risk of opening his heart first (whether or not he also becomes a half-troll in this AU idea). I currently think that’s the most profound way to prove that “evil” view wrong.

This is not to say that he will do so incautiously. Jim takes his role as a protector seriously, and he will do what he must in service to that. But he sees potential in others, and values it. He’s not a saint, but he strives to be understanding and compassionate. And that’s damn hard work. It takes effort to be good, and to see the good in others, especially when you’re hurting.

#rambling thought-barf #theme talk #fanfiction notes

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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Daring and the Duke. By Sarah MacLean. New York: Avon, 2020.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Bareknuckle Bastards #3

Summary: Grace Condry has spent a lifetime running from her past. Betrayed as a child by her only love and raised on the streets, she now hides in plain sight as queen of London’s darkest corners. Grace has a sharp mind and a powerful right hook and has never met an enemy she could not best, until the man she once loved returns. Single-minded and ruthless, Ewan, Duke of Marwick, has spent a decade searching for the woman he never stopped loving. A long-ago gamble may have lost her forever, but Ewan will go to any lengths to win Grace back… and make her his duchess. Reconciliation is the last thing Grace desires. Unable to forgive the past, she vows to take her revenge. But revenge requires keeping Ewan close, and soon her enemy seems to be something else altogether—something she can’t resist, even as he threatens the world she's built, the life she's claimed…and the heart she swore he'd never steal again.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, violence, blood, references to child abuse and maiming

Overview: There was only one book left in the Bareknuckle Bastards series so I thought “why not?” I was curious as to how MacLean would redeem the main antagonist of the first two books, and I rather liked Grace every time she showed up on the page. While there were some things I enjoyed, I would put this finale closer in quality to Brazen and the Beast than Wicked and the Wallflower. There wasn’t much to bind the two leads together aside from their past, in my opinion, and while MacLean attempts to tell a darker, angstier story, much of the plot felt empty and repetitive. Still, there were some nice nods to feminism and consent was always at the forefront, so I’m giving this book 3 stars.

Writing: MacLean’s prose isn’t radically different in Daring than it was in Brazen. It might be a little more serious, as the subject matter is definitely darker, but overall, it’s easy to get through and conveys MacLean’s ideas clearly. My only major complaint is that Daring felt more slow-paced than its prequels, perhaps because we got a lot of filler and repetition of the same scene but from different perspectives. Granted, some of this happens in the previous books, but because Daring isn’t largely focused on something external (like a business rivalry or a power play with an antagonist), everything just seemed to drag.

Also like Brazen, I don’t think MacLean used her themes to the fullest extent. There were some interesting attempts, such as the story about Apollo and the recurring mask motif, but there were also some duds, like the commentary about people being mad that Victoria was queen because she was a woman (Victoria was not a good symbol of “girl power,” in my opinion). While any one of these could have worked, they didn’t have as heavy of an impact as the themes in Wicked.

I also think MacLean held back on giving her characters unique quirks that served as metaphors; while Grace does have a tattoo that has some significance, it didn’t have sustained presence like Felicity’s lockpicking or Whit’s two watches. As a result, Daring felt the most thematically flat of the three books, and I wish as much care was put into both Brazen and Daring as was in Wicked.

Plot: Aside from the romance, most of the plot of this book revolves around Ewan’s redemption and a subtle concern over the increased frequency of raids on houses of ill repute. To be honest, I think this book started out rather well; Grace rescues Ewan from the explosion that happed at the end of Brazen, and their initial reunion and confrontation was fairly angsty. From there, though, I felt like the plot started to get repetitive and had no shape. Devil and Whit would threaten to beat up Ewan, Ewan would make some grand gesture (like hosting a ball or ask to help Covent Garden in a way), Grace would be attracted to that gesture, they’d have some intimate moment, Grace would then get nervous and run, only for the cycle to start over. While I did like the ways in which Ewan tried to earn forgiveness by helping Covent Garden, there wasn’t a whole lot of tension in these scenes aside from the threat of a brawl. I also didn’t feel like the subplot about Grace’s bordello was prominent enough or thematically related enough to have an impact; the bordello raids seemed to be a commentary about women and power, but it fell flat for me because Ewan didn’t really have to struggle with seeing Grace as an equal or as someone with power in her own right. He’s mostly already there, so the commentary felt rather hollow.

I think I would have much rather seen a plot with stronger parallels to the romance or one with more dramatic references to the characters’ pasts. Maybe Ewan’s secret could have been at risk throughout the book, and Grace has to decide what to do (which could have made for an interesting final showdown, if Ewan’s true identity had been discovered). Getting out of that pickle seems like a much more interesting plot than the empty gestures towards women in power that we got.

Characters: I liked Grace in Wicked, so I was happy that she got her own story in Daring. She’s a smart businesswoman with an intelligence network of almost all women, and I love the pleasure she takes in roaming the rooftops and dressing in bold colors. I also really love the friendships she has with her lieutenants at the bordello, and the sibling banter between her and Devil and Whit. However, my admiration from her cooled whenever she would engage in her back-ad-forth with Ewan. She never seemed to know what she wanted and was fairly flighty, which is understandable to an extent but irritating when there isn’t a strong plot or clear emotional progression to back it up. I always felt like Grace was stagnating and never really evolving, and her main character flaw was just to get over her past and hesitation about Ewan’s title. I wanted her to have something more, like an insecurity that Ewan could help her with.

Ewan, for his part, is somewhat interesting in that he was a villain in previous books. I liked the angst he brought to the story as well as the heartbreak when we finally learn why he made certain choices in his past, but other than that, he didn’t really have an exciting emotional arc. After the first scene, Ewan leaves London for a year to make himself a better man worthy of Grace, and when he returns, he seems to have finished growing and only needs the people around him to see it. I feel like we were cheated of seeing that growth happen on-page.

Side characters were fine and served their purpose. Devil and Whit were at their best when teasing Grace, but at their worst when talking about Ewan. I felt like they were always threatening to beat Ewan up but they never acted, which meant that their words felt hollow and their confrontations were useless. It would have been more interesting, in my opinion, if they had had more honest conversations with Ewan about their pasts so the angst was not just between Ewan and Grace but between the brothers as well. I wanted the brothers to struggle more with their emotions, rather than just think about punching one another.

Grace’s lieutenants, Veronique and Zeva, were fun when they were teasing Grace, but it also felt like they were there to relay information about the raids, which weren’t all that interesting. I liked that Grace was shown to have female friendships, and I liked that the lieutenants showed women in positions of power outside of a domestic setting, but ultimately, the raids just weren’t exciting enough to me to think of the lieutenants as much more than filler.

Romance: Based on the events from the previous two books, some readers may not find Ewan redeemable, so the quality of this romance will largely depend on what your personal threshold is. Personally, I was willing to give MacLean a shot, and while I do think she did everything she could to show that Ewan was trying to atone, I also don’t think she did enough to make the romance exciting. Grace and Ewan seemed to be mainly bound by their pasts, and though Ewan says he loves Grace for her boldness and power, it seemed all tell and no show. Part of the romance requires Ewan and Grace to learn who the other is now rather than try to recapture their childhoods, and I felt like not much of that happened outside of Grace just giving Ewan a tour of her bordello and telling stories about what happened to her after she fled with her brothers. I would have much rather had moments where the two bonded over some shared values - the laundry scene in Covent Garden kind of did that, but it was so dragged out and nothing was really built upon it, so I don’t think it had the intended effect.

I also don’t feel like Ewan and Grace grew within the romance very much, and by that I mean they didn’t help each other overcome some kind of character flaw. Ewan’s character development happened off-page, so most of his arc was about getting others to see that he had changed rather than changing before our eyes. Grace’s main barrier to the relationship was her past and her inability to trust, which would have been fine if all her reservations didn’t go out the window the moment she noticed Ewan’s muscles. It was somewhat exhausting to see her have an intimate moment with Ewan, insist that it was just this one time, then flee because they couldn’t be together (due to his title and her emotional hang-ups). The cycle would repeat, and it didn’t feel like each encounter built on the previous one. I think I would have liked to see a continuous evolution where the two learned who the other had become in the 20 years they were apart, uncovering truths along the way and building back trust rather than this back-and-forth of “we can’t be together” and “well, we can bang this one time but NO MORE after tonight.”

TL;DR: Despite including some delicious angst, Daring and the Duke ultimately relies on a cyclical romance and a lackluster plot, making this book a middling finale to the Bareknuckle Bastards series.

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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired · 4 years

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alrighty! im gonna talk about my two new dr!ocs and some updates on sheon’s whole thing. remember they don’t have names yet adkaljasdkfa

SURVIVOR: the ultimate jazz singer.

as mentioned, she’s the ultimate jazz singer. pretty subdued personality, but she’s the type of jazz singer who would just. scream into a microphone a la screamin jay hawkins. she is pretty neutral/friendly but disconnected in the prologue/first chapter/second chapter. she gets more jittery as the interactions go on. but once you get to the post-fte section of chapter two, that night she actually tries to kill the protag. at this point its revealed her big Angsty Backstory is she got involved with drugs through the music scene and is currently suffering withdrawal symptoms and is Super desperate (something ive seen a lot with my co-musicians and its not good) big breakdown, really delirious, will eventually be talked off the ledge and calmed down. kind of like if sayaka was actually calmed down in thh chap 1

just so happens that during the night whoopsy someone else was killed. so you two have an alibi but to reveal it means you tell everyone about her issues. either there might be a lying feature like in drv3 to cover, or you tell the truth and end up isolating her. for chapter three and most of four she will keep her distance from the protag bc she’s uncomfortable but will eventually reach out to be friends again after chap 4 execution.

is generally pretty useful during trials, tends to be a person who tries to help calm down more emotional students and look at things logically. is good at trying to calm down the blackened once the protag catches their bluff bc she understands what its like to be desperate. she does, however, cry during/after every punishment. tells others not to speak poorly of their executed classmates.

she compulsively chews gum, and one of her favorite gifts would be gum. jokes about having an oral fixation. during school mode she might joke about singing love songs but being so awkward about it in real life. really likes dogs, has a dog plushie in her room.

a first two fte will focus on her health/wellbeing. the third she’ll ask to not talk about that anymore and the next three are just about general stuff. the final one she’ll basically go a little further into detail but the moral of her story is like, she’s not a bad person for doing what she did, no one is. she’s just a person. and it cn happen to anymore.

dresses in clothes more inspired by late mod/early 70s fashion. hoestly im seeing like a turtleneck/pantsuit combo. short curly hair. big heavy under eyelashes.

MASTERMIND: the ultimate drag racer (ultimate cruiser)

ok but I LOVE him. personality wise he’s the story’s anxious character, think closer in personality to chap 1 shuichi. quiet, skittish, easily flustered, sometimes cracks jokes that fall flat. he’s framed for the chap 1 murder (someone died in a go kart accident, its assumed he sabotaged the other car, his argument is why would he kill someone in a race in front of all his classmates?) the protag obviously works hard to prove he’s innocent. after the execution he makes a promise to the protag that he owes him one big time, and while it seems innocent at the time, the wording should have like. a slight suspicious undertone.

he’ll investigate weirder areas of the school instead of practical (sometimes he has clues sometimes not) and if there’s ever a mechanical question for a trial, you’ll generally ask him for clarification. he’s not very trusting of others and is often the one to accuse others/bring the information learned in trials back into the real world and make a big deal out of it. for example, he’ll make a big deal about the attempted murder in chap 2, and he’s the one who’s constantly accusing sheon of being a traitor

at first he seems like he’s just anxious, but obviously, he’s the mastermind, and he’s trying to tear the group apart.

his fte he’s awkward the first few times but he opens up slowly, showing actual comfort/joy around the protag. wants to be close friends. offers to take protag go karting. while their personality is pretty awkward most of the time, there are flashes of an adrenaline junky every now and then especially when talking about cars, where he seems so full of life and drive it’s almost scary. very competitive during these times, his determination almost taking a sadistic glee when talking about beating others. of course he explains it as his cutthroat sport, but ya know...mastermind. instead of saying we’re going to survive he says we’re going to win. friendly towards the others but doesn’t really care about them focused on protag. is consciously trying to seperate protag from sheon.

for a mastermind he’s actually quite the empath and grows attached to his classmates, which he actually takes pleasure in the amount of despair he feels after each of their executions. reason behind the game is the adrenaline rush he feels, never has felt more alive than on despair. he discovered the rush the first time he got in a car accident, and the moments before his crash where like pure bliss. he wanted to let everyone else feel his feverish joy, and talks about how everyone has enjoyed this, deep down. they’re all getting their sick kicks. breaks the fourth wall and alludes to the fact that the protag (through the player) is having the most fun of all.

final trial where it’s revealed, he’s still v attached to the protag in like an almost yandere way and wants to follow up on the favor he owes from chap 1. he offers a deal to the protag where if they’re welcome to be their accomplice in all this and get out of the game. protag should push to bargain that everyone can give up their morals, sacrifice themselves to despair, and live as the mastermind’s accomplice in exchange for ending the killing game.

eventually, he’ll agree, but only if the group decides one life among them to sacrifice for no other reason than to kill an innocent friend. the way to get to the correct ending is to choose yourself which will like invalidate the deal. protag ends up dying and everyone else lives. leaves the mastermind in a despair, but for the first time, he does not derive any pleasure.

takes a LOT OF GLEE in admitting he convinced everyone else sheon was the traitor when she was not, everyone else is horrified.

anyways. his school mode/love mode events show his more likeable side, he can actually be a really cute partner if it weren’t for the part he’s evil but uh. soft sometimes.

really likes energy drinks. talks about sponsorships. color scheme is like. a black racing suit but his jacket is tied around his waist and he’s wearing a wife beater. tons of accents of neon all over his outfit from like patches and brand deals. backwards hat. blushes easily. has a mullet. i love him.

“TRAITOR” : SHEON FUKUDA (the ultimate film maker)

ok so. still antagonistic. but more in the way of pushing your buttons and pointing out your flaws in a trial. like somewhere between antagonist and kirigiri. super chill personality, cracks a lot of jokes, is hardcore struggling with the games and will be open about her mental illness. her fatal flaw is still her martyr complex

is first framed after chap 2 bc of accused of having the ability to direct and oversee a production like this, and from that moment forward no one can trust her and she’s SUPER alienated. she’s still awkwardly trying to be friends/friendly but people act like she’s going to betray them all. tries to prove innocence multiple times going as far as to beginning of chap 3 announce to the group if they need to kill anyone, let it be her so no one else gets hurt and is super transparent about who she is. but this transparency makes people more suspicious. as she goes on she gets more desperate/gallows humor. last convo bfore chap 5 begins she has a vague conversation about with protag about if they fear death. chap 5 would end up being either a suicide or double murder (they killed each other one in attack the other while being defended against) so there’s no execution but monokuma still wants something. its also in this trial that the ultimate drag racer plants evidence taht makes it look like she’s the traitor and is addressed head on.

a common motif for her is ‘playing the role assigned’ and knowing who she is and who she isn’t. she’s pretty comfortable knowing who she is but expresses unhappiness about being painted a villain. maybe like, three times through the story to this point it’s established as a motif/quirk of fitting a role she’s assigned bc if the protag asks her a question about herself/past/the overall story, she asks the protag a question like well, what do you want 1) 2) and you choose and she’s like. ok. then its _______. same thing here. as she’s finally excused she stares at the protag and is like do you really believe im the traitor? (yes) stares long and hard, somethng sad and defeated in her eyes. ok then. i am.

the trial doesn’t have a punishment originally planned bc the blackened are not alive. but she chooses not to vote and willingly chooses to be punished because everyone else has decided she’s the traitor and she chooses to play along so they can get closure. her last conversation should be about choosing the act of resistance, no matter how convoluted it can be. she doesn’t fear death. the pain sure, but not death. this was her choice to be punished, not the masterminds, and she hopes they lose any glee they take in her suffering because its a sacrifice for hope instead of a death in despair. last request is that she asks for the protag to make sure the manuscripts she wrote during her time are published, the last great work of sheon fukuda.

EXECUTION: CULTURE SHOCK so she wakes up on a soundstage to blinding light. she’s attached with electrodes. monokuma is sitting on a director’s chair with a director’s hat. basically the premise is as the ultimate film maker, she has to recreate different iconic movie scenes and every time she makes a mistake she gets shocked. she keeps on getting thrown into new scenes into the middle of old ones, throwing her off. after a sequence of costume changes/farces she finally collapses in the soundstage.

beat. she looks up. above the soundstage is a sign that says “congratulations” or something. everyone gasps. she believes she beat it. a single light comes on in center stage prompting her to take a bow. she stumbles over, stands up, and looks into the shadows in the general direction of her classmates. a teleprompter prompts her classmates to clap. she takes glee, soaking in her win, and bows. as she comes up she smiles for a second before a short rings out. she’s shot through the heart. culture shock!

fte are mostly talking about directors/film references and what its like to be a film maker. real dry humor, sometimes talks about deeper stuff. her backstory is that her dad was working for an american embassy so she grew up in america going to art shool, and she feels out of place, despite being a japanese student with the same basic culture as everyone else. sometimes talks about slimeball directors, sometimes talks about missing certain food, loves takling about movies. as a filmmaker she specializes in dark comedy/farce which makes her suspicious of how someone can enjoy writing somethng so twisted

views are very intersectional, a little new agey, but still well put together. clearly a free spirit, very quirky from working in cinema, super dry sense of humor. likes philosophy

really likes blueberry jam. favorite item is somthing blueberry.

after chap 1 trial she expresses to the protag how she can never be the blackened, not just because of murdering one student, but to get away with it, everyone else would be punished instead, and she can’t deal with the blood on her hands.

is open about her struggles with mental illness and how she was getting help and showing improvement bfore coming here but now she feels herself spiraling and hates it.

values everyone here as good friends, and while she tries to play it off she hates how they’re painting her as a villain. takes every death very personally.

color scheme is very pastel, and she wears sweat pants and a collared shirt with a light blue robe. you can’t tell if those are pajamas or an outfit. wears rose-colored glasses. all about the aesthetic, just lean so far into film culture with her. personality/feelings towards style are very influenced by the fact she went to an american arts school instead of a japanese school like her peers so every part of her is slightly off/quirky/out-of-touch

she’ll mostly wear the glasses over her eyes, sometimes pushing them down on her nose for emphasis to make eye contact. only her anger sprite (point) shows her taking them off.

during her execution she pushes them onto her forehead before taking her bow, almost to meet eye to eye. after she’s shot the last frame is them landing on the ground, cracking.

i love sheon so much

#dr oc #sheon fukuda #dr after party

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lonelypond · 5 years

Text

Can’t Get Started

Love Live, NicoMaki, 3.5K, 1/2

Nishikino Maki is trying to make in the piranha fishbowl of movies, music, and Hollywood. Yazawa Nico already has. And they keep crashing into each other.

Can’t Get Started

No matter how many luxury, fancy, five star, $$$$$ hotels Nishikino Maki would spend time in, she would never get used to the powder room lounges, with interior design as fancy and challenging as the living areas of the ‘finest’ homes. This one had a wood and platinum motif, with large low sofas scattered over a space the size of her moderately luxurious apartment. There were pitchers with cucumber water and a thick book full of very unclothed photography, which actually interested Maki, as a photographer herself, but here, where women came in and out every few minutes, she felt too exposed to pick it up, have a look, and see who had made that particular editor’s cut. So no lingering after the deed is done. In a room seemingly designed for lingering. And one fidgety blur of movement in a corner Maki made certain to only catch out of the corner of her eye. No staring. Time to move on, no matter how tempting the couches seemed compared to the roomful of noisy chatter and chummy elbows.

Maki was back to continue her decor appreciation jam session after only ten minutes because of a small accident with the soup. Award shows should be like the Oscars, someone else in your seat when you needed air, not occasions where you not only had to juggle nerves but also food. Maki shook her head at herself, looked at the curry down the front of her dress and wondered if water would make it better or worse.

She stopped. There was the blur, now in the center of the ‘lounge,’ a tiny dark haired woman, pacing and muttering, hands flying back and forth, making shapes in the air, leaning into a couch, patting an imaginary cheek, turning to one side, smiling and waving, unusually...red eyes wide and friendly. And then they spotted Maki, and narrowed.

“Sorry…” Maki coughed and ducked her head, pointing to her dress, “spilled soup. Just…” Maki smiled shyly, “thought I saw you in here ten minutes ago. Are you okay? I get nervous too.” A flip of her finger across the still damp soup stain to demonstrate empathy.

Now there was staring. The eyes were red, almost rubies, with that same illusion of faceted depth that the best jewelers carve into their efforts, bringing out magical warmth from mineral cold. Then an incandescent smile happened that knocked Maki back, “Nico is fine. Nico is just rehearsing her acceptance speech so fans like you,” a broad, broad wink, “aren’t disappointed.”

Nico. Yazawa Nico. Maki took a better look, this woman was so tiny, but yes, the eyes should have been a giveaway, set deep over a nose that was much sharper than Maki had even seen in any of the movies where Yazawa had bled out all of her emotions for an audience eager for stories of romance, tragedy, and triumph with an actress unafraid to be as unapologetically gay on screen as off. From superhero to Empress, Nico had swept the international cinema scene, scoring box office hits in both small indie films and action blockbusters. Maki had been impressed by the actress’s range, cried and laughed over her performances, and maybe had a slightly illicit dream or two. Like every other gay and bi woman on the planet.

“Hello?” Yazawa’s hand was waving in front of Maki’s nose, “Nico can help you with the spill. I have a stain stick in my purse, It’ll keep it from setting.”

Maki nodded. That sounded sensible. Like a plan. And Nico’s dress was silver slashed with black fringe, that went with the silver slashes across sharp cheekbones above lips that could really only be described as a sensuous dark plum.

The actress was waiting for some kind of verbal reply, but Maki had half turned and was just staring at a pattern on the couch and running a hand through her hair, as adjectives and screenshots kept flashing on her internal movie screen. Then Yazawa’s hands were on her shoulders and she was being shoved into a chair, “But first you listen to Nico’s speech…” Yazawa paused.

“Um…” Maki realized her elevation had changed and she glanced up, Nico watching her critically.

“Name?” Nico urged.

“Maki.” Easy question.

Nico nodded and the tension eased. “Okay, Maki, hi I’m Nico, I have a big presentation in…” Yazawa glanced at a delicate twist of a silver watch, “20 minutes, so it’s kinda urgent, can I run something by you? So I don’t sound like an idiot.”

“Yeah, I always sound like an idiot too.” Maki blurted.

“Well,” Nico stepped back, “thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Sorry, Ms. Yazawa...” Maki bit her lip, “you’re always so polished on screen….”

“It’s Nico. And I never write my own dialogue. On set improv is lame.” Nico stepped back, her eyes focusing somewhere else, hands seeming to measure out where the stage and microphone were, “Writers work as hard as Nico does so they deserve respect.”

Maki thought Umi would be pleased and surprised to hear that from a celebrity she had occasionally doubted the work ethic of. Maki, as a composer, was usually immune from actors altering her artistic choices but it was a near daily struggle for Umi. Maki wondered if Nico would be interested in reading their latest, an intimate musical…

Nico’s hand again, fingers snapping this time under Maki’s nose this time. She jumped as Nico began to sound testy again, “If Nico can keep your interest, she can keep anyone’s…”

“Not, that’s not...I just...my friend Umi is a writer and always complains about actors who want to improv.”

“Posers.”

Maki grinned, “Exactly what she says.”

Nico patted Maki encouragingly on the shoulder, amused, “Introduce Nico later. Now you listen. We only have 15 minutes before...” Nico flung her arms wide, nodding to each side, gathering in imaginary shouts and whistles.

“Okay.” Maki stood, stretched her arms out in front of her, sat, leaned forward, slammed her hands into her knees, the picture of alert attention, and winked at Nico, “Go.”

Nico laughed, stepped behind her imaginary podium, whispered, “clap” so Maki did while Nico’s hand gestures called for more. Then the flip of the hand for quiet.

“Thank you. Tonight is very important to Nico…”

###

Sundance...party...one pissed off caterer...Maki had no idea what she did to annoy the woman...oh wait, yeah that...but Umi was going to be SEVERELY disappointed when their party, intended to impress award winning designer Minami Kotori turned out to be Maki smiling awkwardly and handing around a bag of stale chips and a growler. It was a weeknight, the Thursday before the second weekend, and Maki had had hopes of catching the ska documentary she’d connected a musician friend with. But no, here she was frantically searching for...a pizza place, maybe? Fewer crowds than last year, when they’d come the first weekend, but still enough people bustling that Maki felt like she was elbowing people awkwardly in the halls of high school again. And then her heel hit a patch of black ice and she sssssssslllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiid down the sidewalk until some obstacle forced her back on her butt. That was going to be sore, Maki thought as she reached a hand behind her, levering herself up was going to be at least a three limb job, both legs and one arm.

“Here let me help you. Are you okay?”

Maki recognized the voice and winced. Yazawa Nico once again catching her in an imperfect moment. “Hi. No, I’m fine.”

Nico snorted. She was in a black snowsuit with cute pink flair, fake fur, and patches scattered all over her arms and legs. She took Maki’s hand and when the redhead nodded, pulled. Maki rose and stumbled forward, suddenly finding herself with A list celebrity arms supporting most of her weight while dreamably delicious, not even mildly chapped lips pinched back what was probably a belly roar of laughter.

“Sorry.” Maki stepped back, hands brushing the snow off her leggings. Why hadn’t she dressed for the weather? Leggings based on samurai armor, an oversized Northwestern hoodie and a Reign ballcap would not have been any stylist’s choice.

“No soup stains?” Nico teased, clapping together pink mittens that looked like Muppet fur. Maki thought there might be eyes on the palms. She wasn’t sure if that was cute or creepy.

“No food at all.” Maki sniffled, feeling the cold soak into what was going to be a sitting bruise, and having no real options as her mind raced through possibilities. Umi and Kotori would be headed back with a small crowd after the premiere of Umi’s latest film and Maki had nothing, “I have to go. Nico to see...I mean nice to see you, Nico.” Maki tried to smile but she knew her face was giving away how many non options she was discarding per second.

“What’s the matter?” Nico asked so casually, so quickly, Maki almost forgot where she was.

“I pissed off the caterer. And Umi…”

“Your writing friend….”

“You remembered…”

Nico tapped her temple, “Nico keeps future industry connections who know cute redheads in the most secure part of her memory.” Nico frowned, “Sorry, Nico meant intelligent and attentive test audiences. Nico’s not a creep.”

“Then why are there eyes on your mittens?” Maki couldn’t help asking.

“Huh...” Nico laughed, raising one of her hands, turning her mitten into a sock puppet, the pitch of her voice dropping, “Hey, friend, let’s make a snowman…”

Maki glanced around, a little frantic, not sure how to react, especially as this new conversation track was her stumble entirely, “Sorry no...there’s not really anywhere...I really...Umi’s going to be so upset…”

“They make my little brother laugh. He’s 13 and I’m trying to keep him silly.” Nico rolled her eyes, “They grow up too fast.”

“Oh.” Maki hated being this confused. And feeling this incapable. But Nico was grinning at her and cute and surely Umi and Honoka could charm Kotori without catering. There was ice cream in the freezer. Probably.

“So what did you do to the caterer…?”

Maki shoved her hands in her kangaroo pocket so she wouldn’t just throw her hat somewhere as she remembered the scene. “Ummmm...ran over the main dish because I was running late and backing out of the condo driveway when they were unloading…”

“Sounds like a movie meet cute.” Nico’s eyes were twinkling while Maki was getting shorter and probably tilting toward the left as her hip contracted from pain and cold. “So is it a private party...why did Nico miss getting her invite?”

“Oh, it’s for anyone who goes to Umi’s premiere.” Maki glanced at her watch. “Which is going to be over soon.”

Nico pulled out her phone. “What’s your address?”

“Why?” There wouldn’t be much of a party, and Honoka would surely just hit Nico with every project her clients might need an actress for.

“Nico knows someone. Is this Umi or who she’s trying to impress allergic to anything?”

“Minami? I’m not sure.”

Nico whistled, “Kotori, the Divine Kotori of Floating Feather Atelier….Nico really needs to come to one of your parties. Nico hears she’s big on cutesy food…” Nico frowned, considering. “I might know a place...”

“Where?” Maki got ready to run.

“You are not touching anything breakable, droppable, or poisonable. Nico will send her assistant.” Nico handed Maki her phone, “Just give me your contact info and Cocoro will take care of it.”

“Okay.” Maki took off a glove and tried typing but nothing registered. She kept punching until Nico took the phone back, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Just talk.”

“Okay.”

Nico typed in the digits as Maki recited them. “All right, Nico will send a rescue party to your wreck. Don’t back over them.”

“I’m walking everywhere from now on. Rogue Salmon spaghetti carbonaras are obviously stalking my car.” “Probably safest. Are you hanging out this weekend? Nico’s chairing a diversity panel. People are going to be talking about it for months.” Nico kept typing, biting her lip as she muttered things Maki couldn’t make out.

“Flying to Tokyo in the morning.” Nico looked disappointed so Maki explained. “Family business. My parents...”

“Oh. Nico will text you a snap of her agenda and her dress so you can see what you missed.”

“Okay.” Maki nodded at Nico, who had finally glanced up from her phone.“Thanks, Nico. I’d better get back.”

As Maki turned, Nico giggled. “Send Nico back a pajama selfie.”

Maki whirled, “What?”

Nico, with a too innocent expression on her face, was watching her mittens out dance each other, “We should go to a party TOGETHER sometime.”

“Stop by tonight. You have the address.”

Nico’s mittens dropped to her sides, her voice apologetic before it dipped back into a teasing edge. “Guest of honor three places. Already late for the first. And Nico has to hurry her assistant because there’s a cute redhead with no food to stain her clothes…”

Maki blushed and bolted. Nico had a very distinctive, short, snorting laugh and Maki feared that further conversation would draw a crowd. Plus, the liquor delivery was probably waiting.

###

Maki’s phone vibrated with a text from an unknown number, “We’re here.”

“Who?”

“Food.”

Maki had changed into jeans and a turtleneck, and was about to put her last layer on. Shoving her arm quickly into the formal jacket, she hopped down to the door.

One young woman, leading three young men with huge insulated bags, stood, impatiently tapping her fingers against the doorframe, “Maki?”

The grim tone made Maki wonder if she should pull out her ID. “Yes.”

The woman turned, “Take everything inside, find the kitchen, set it all up, my sister said not to let her touch anything.”

The staff nodded and shuffled past Maki once she stepped out of the door and onto the porch so they could get through.

The young woman glared at her. “Nico already tipped them.”

“Okay.” Maki was staring. This young woman was almost identical to Nico in coloring, but no amusement had ever lurked in her blood red eyes and her entire expression screamed “Not on my watch, you don’t.”

“You should probably go back inside.” The not Nico pointed.

“Okay.” Could this be over soon, Maki wondered.

“I have to text Nico a picture.” Nope.

“I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Maki had said something right, but it was too late to score any points. The “thank you” in response was perfunctory.

“I’m Maki Nishikino.”

“I know.”

Maki knew Nico had mentioned a name but its memory was as slippery as the Park City pavement.“You are?”

“Ms. Yazawa, Nico’s assistant.” Stated slowly.

“Right. Thank you.”

No reply. Ms. Yazawa racewalked into the living area, and Maki could hear her ordering the three young men around.

Maybe everything would be self serve. And Nico’s...sister? Evil clone? would make a quick exit. Maki wasn’t looking forward to the party and extra scrutiny would make it so much worse.

“Maki!” Honoka Kosaka cheerful trill echoed as the front door banged open, ‘Everyone loved Umi’s script. And they can’t wait to meet you.’ Maki waved at her old friend and agent as the ginger in a kilt and shawl bounced into the living area. The food had arrived just in time. But a smile was more than Maki could muster as the memory of the younger Yazawa’s frigid attitude kept scalding her.

###

The condo was finally quiet. Umi, Honoka, and Kotori had gone off somewhere to continue what Umi called ‘negotiations’ while Honoka had whispered date. Which Maki wasn’t thinking about. Because the condo was finally quiet. And then her ringtone went off. Maki groaned and grabbed her phone, wondering what the new crisis was.

A text from an unknown number: ( ˘▽˘)っ♨ how was the party? My sister said you didn’t spill anything while she was there.

Maki smiled. Nico.

M: （－－；exhausting

N: In bed already? Pajama selfie?

M: Collapsed in chair fully clothed so not terribly exciting.

N: Depends on the chair ପ(⑅ ॣ•͈૦•͈ ॣ)ଓ

Maki shot a quick pic of the fabric pattern.

N: 10/10 would slouch right there with you

M: I’d be terrible company. During party: |_-｡), after party (o_ _)o

N: And yet, here we are...(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Maki ran a hand through her hair and sighed. What she really wanted to do was soak in a bath for hours, candles lit, music low, but past experience had taught her that as soon as Honoka came back she’d barge into wherever Maki was with an update.

N: Is the rest of Team 'Slide In Through My Window' there?

M: You know the script title?

N: Nico talks to people. Your friend Umi made quite a splash at the writing panel. Bet actresses are swooning to get a look at the script ヽ/❀o ل͜ o\ﾉ

Maki frowned.

M: Are you?

A pause...Maki could see Nico typing, then the bubble disappeared. Then more typing,

N: (,Ծ_ლ) Honestly? There’s no good way for Nico to answer that.

Maki leaned forward, her fingers flying.

M: Why not?

N: *groans* Because of course, duh...hot new thing and turns out I love the score for the 'Déshabillé and Disaster' short and YOU composed that, but mostly, Nico is swooning over an excuse to keep talking to you.

Nico knew her work. The first thing people mentioned was usually the hit steamy summer bop she’d written with Carly Rae Jepsen last year, not the Le Cristal d'Annecy winning animated short so Nico had either done her homework or was a genuine enthusiast. Either way…Maki found herself typing too quickly to reconsider anything she said.

M: You don’t need an excuse.

N: Are you going to be in LA for awards season?

M: Yes.

N: Nico will see you then. Cocoro hasn’t overscheduled me yet…So let’s crash a party together.

M: Can it be a small, quiet party? *yawns pathetically*

N: Get some sleep. And don’t forget to send Nico a pajama selfie when you get to Tokyo. Or at least a chair pic. Nico needs to know your furniture preferences.

And Nico had attached a selfie where she had the most serious of faces, one eyebrow quirked to its sharpest, most questioning extreme.

Maki couldn’t help it. The guffaw just rolled out; there was no other word for it. This was flirting. This was nice. No one staring and making her feel uncomfortable. A minute to think. Maki relaxed into the chair, legs pulled up, remembering Nico’s grin. This was flirting. A nudge. A wink. A dare. Maki took a risk.

M: Not too well padded.

N: (╯‵□′)╯︵┴─┴ Rude. Nico’s furniture is padded perfectly. ಠ‿↼

Guffaw followed by giggle. Maki was feeling better. Maybe she could actually sleep before leaving for her flight. IF she taped a huge DO NOT DISTURB ME, HONOKA to her door.

M: Thanks for your help, Nico. You saved me. Although I don’t think your sister likes me.

N: She’s not the deciding vote in the Yazawa family. Chat up Cotaro, he likes donuts, you might be able to swing a majority. Nico will put in a good word for you.

M: You’re probably exhausting in person.

N: All the to die for parties are ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

M: *collapses further into chair, CRUSHED under weight of brush with celebrity*

N: Nico is not fatal, Ms.OVERdramatic, just friendly.

M: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

N: Sleep it off, recluse ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

M: (b~_^)b

N: Cute. See you in LA.

See Nico in LA. It was now a plan. And Nico would be in one of those dresses designed to show off every perfectly padded curve. Maki felt herself redden and then panic jumped to her memories of red carpets and last year. The crowds. The cameras. And how everyone sweeping by, svelte and confident, had brought out every clumsy twitch in her body. But Nice was certainly not the watch the red carpet on a laptop with takeout and TWIG commentary type. Maki sat up, maybe if she started with a dress. Could Umi and Honoka talk Minami Kotori into coming back to the condo for some fashion talk? Maki could use a little divine design intervention.

A/N: Enjoy this first half. I started this while finishing up Jingle Bell Jazz when I heard Nancy Wilson's version of "I Can't Get Started." Juggling a few storylines so I'm not sure what'll be next after this as summer and Shakespeare and crimes against humanity by the government of my country continue.Thanks for reading. Take care!

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Red carpets #Hollywood #Yazawa Family #etc

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alittlebookdust · 7 years

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Book Review: Perks of Being a Wallflower

Author: Stephen Chboski Publisher: MTV Books Publishing Date: 1999 Pages: 213

I’m not sure why I picked up this book again, but perhaps it’s because I felt that Perks of Being a Wallflower stands as one of the modern pillars establishing the definition of what a YA novel is today. After reading it for the second time, I still believe this may be true. Its popularity is unprecedented, as is the book’s following, and I hadn’t remembered much about it after my initial read in high school. In fact, it’s hard to actually give this book the title “Young Adult Novel,” as it is much more complex and mature in its narrative than many YA novels seem to be nowadays. Even though the book is about high schoolers, I don’t think a typical high schooler would even understand most of the intricacies, in which Charlie’s character labors to convey through an eccentric account of profound events, that come off as rather ambivalent upon an awkward, scattered voice underlined by a deep sense of anxious insecurity. I appreciate the book more now than I probably ever would have in high school, but only because I have some perspective on the book’s themes, some to which I could closely relate. Though one of the book’s primary purposes is its portrayal of “what it’s like to grow up in high school,” Charlie’s character is atypical in the sincere perspective, understanding, and empathy used to kaleidoscope his world in to a puzzle of multi-layered emotions, most of which would not be recognized by the typical fifteen-year-old.

I would argue that Perks of Being a Wallflower establishes itself more as a novel able to transport a mature reader in to the warming hearth of nostalgic sentiment, rather than a YA novel attempting to relate to teens. It does both, sure. But it has more impact when read at a more mature age. It would be easy for a high schooler to get caught up in the idealism surrounding Charlie’s friends and the “high school experience,” as opposed to appreciating the brokenness of the characters through which the novel sculpts its poignancy.

The book is essentially about a fifteen-year-old boy named, Charlie, who has recently lost a friend to suicide and is about to start high school. In order to “know that someone out there listens and understands,” Charlie begins writing letters to an unnamed friend, and these letters become the novel. He documents everything from the beginning of his friendships with Sam and Patrick, his love for Sam, family drama, “the bad feelings,” etc. Immediately, the first thing a reader notices upon reading the first letter, is the fluidity of the character’s voice; that despite the fragmented and one-word sentences conveying a principle desperation in the tone, the voice is established irrefutably as Charlie’s. And the reader cannot help but fall in to the narrative, head first.

In the technical sense, the creation of Charlie’s voice is the most obvious and outward display of Chboski’s triumph.

The next would be the complexity of his characters. And not just one or two, but all of Charlie’s family and friends were given their own dynamic shape through the brilliantly worked narrative. Charlie never had to over explain to convey the essence of a person, rather he only gave two or three details, carefully chosen and perceived, in order to bring that other character to life on the page.

I could pick anyone—from Charlie’s mother to Sam or Patrick or even Bob—apart as though they were actual people, but that would take too long. And, honestly, analyzing Charlie alone is enough for a ten-page essay. Regardless, I’m just going to stick with the themes that stuck out to me the most and keep it at that. I’m going to go in to some of the more common ones such as coming of age, sexuality, happiness, etc. since these tend to be over explicated. So here are some motifs that stood out to me personally:

1.) The desire to be known and understood

I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand…I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands (p. 1)

This theme makes itself known upon the first page in the book and only expounds from there. I’d even argue that this desire, in Charlie particularly, is why the book (or letters) even exits. Every letter establishes the sense of desperation and dependency on the recipient’s ability to “listen and understand” without judgment. These characteristics turn out to be Charlie’s own appeal towards Patrick and Sam. Both are somewhat considered misfits, and are a part of a group friends also subtly considered as misfits because they’re the one’s in high school who’ve recognized they’re broken earlier than everyone else. And it becomes clear in the book that people aware of their own brokenness, seek other people aware of their own brokenness with whom to connect and find understanding.

Charlie’s close relationship to Patrick and Sam begins when they invited him to an intimate party in which Patrick toasts to him and call him a “wallflower.”

You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand. (p. 37)

This desire to be understood continually reoccurs within Charlie and his letters, and is emphasized by the way he even tries to understand himself.

I just wish that God or my parents or Sam or my sister or someone would just tell me what's wrong with me. Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense. To make this all go away. And disappear. I know that's wrong because it's my responsibility, and I know that things get worse before they get better because that's what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big. (p. 139)

The theme is brought back full circle through one of Sam’s final monologues when she is talking about the end of a relationship that kept her from being herself and doing the things she wanted to do.

If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am…why would I care whether or not he loved me when he didn’t really even know me? (p. 201)

2. The feeling of infinity

Maybe this could be lumped in to the theme of happiness, but I think this is a little different. Yes, the moments in the book where Charlie “feels infinite” are catalyzed by ecstatic emotion, but it is ultimately established by a sense of true belonging. It is the goal towards which he strove for through the means of “participating,” which is another theme of the book, in the world around him.

I remembered this one time that I never told anyone about. The time we were walking. Just the three of us. And I was in the middle. I don’t remember where and I don't remember when. I don't even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere. (p.198)

Charlie’s moments of infinity are always accomplished with Sam and Patrick, as they were the first to accept and understand him, and the first friends he made after attempting to “participate.” Rather than an everlasting feeling of happiness, feeling infinite finds meaning upon the everlasting feeling of belonging.

I thought about Bill telling me I was special. And my sister saying she loved me…I though about Patrick calling me his friend. And I though about Sam telling me to do things. To really be there. And I just though how great it was to have friends and a family….and that was enough to make me feel infinite. (p. 213)

3. Taking responsibility for who you are

I just found this theme to be so important. Especially in regards to all the broken lives the book exposes to its readers. It’s easy to blame circumstance and upbringing, but what Charlie and the book makes clear is that ultimately it is a person’s responsibility to decide who he or she is to become.

I’m not the way I am because of what I dreamt and remembered…I think that’s very important to know…But it’s like when my doctor told me the story of these two brothers whose dad was a bad alcoholic. One brother grew up to be a successful carpenter who never drank. The other brother ended up being a drinker as bad as his dad was…I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. (p 211)

This epiphany at the end was foreshadowed by many subtle occurrences throughout the book, especially regarding Charlie’s family. His father and mother are particular examples of people coming from bad homes, but deciding they didn’t want to live the same way. They accepted where they came from, and did their best not to blame their parents for any negative influence upon their character. Though a rough home life contributes to the near distant and stern disposition of Charlie’s father, he does not allow any justification for his faults to be attributed to his upbringing.

Not everyone has a sob story, Charlie, and even if they do, it’s no excuse. (p. 28)

This book truly is a trove of fascinating topics worthy of in-depth discussion and analysis. But it’s also a heart-moving read. I was surprise by how emotionally attached I became to Charlie, and how much I wanted him to find community and to feel loved. Again, I think that the book needs to be read an older age to be appreciated. The sex and drug use can be taken as something that should be desired by readers who are too young, and though these things are prevalent in the story, it’s not the meaning that should be taken from the book at all. In fact, my only issues with the book was its idealistic portrayals of drug use, sex, and even to some extent love and friendship.

The friendships that Charlie cultivated are so rare, and high schoolers are so very infrequently attuned to their own flaws and struggles and brokenness, that it could lead some readers to feel as though they need such friends to survive high school. A young reader could also fall in to seeking and dwelling upon their own brokenness, magnifying a sense of angst that may actually prevent him of her from finding people with whom to connect. You just have to be careful. It’s really easy to be romanticized by pain and angst in order to feel a sense of profound meaning in life. The book could also be taken to say that a person’s brokenness can be fixed with friends and belonging. But ultimately, even Charlie’s friends and family couldn’t save him. He needed professional help, and even then, he needed to come to terms with himself, by himself, and through his own decisions. These are some things that are just important to note before recommending this book that cousin in high school you love so much.

It’s a wonderful book, made more wonderful through a mature perspective cultivated by knowing how and when to distinguish between the idealism of a novel and the reality of life.

#perks of being a wallflower #ya #young adult fiction #books #novels #young adult #read #my reviews #book review #literature #classic #My Book Reviews

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gonewiddershins · 7 years

Text

ask

tagged by @what-may-be-perceived

1. Always post the rules 2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you 3. Write 11 questions of your own 4. Tag 11 people (or however many you want)

ANSWERS

1. Have you ever watched A Goofy Movie?

Nope. I have watched random episodes of Goof Troop, though.

2. Are you an “adventurous eater”, or do you prefer to stick to your favorite foods when eating somewhere new? (A person’s house, a new restaurant, a different state or nation.)

I am not. I have issues with texture and smell, which means that I will only eat something unfamiliar if it both smells and feels unobjectionable to me, or if I’m feeling reckless. Mostly the former.

3. What’s your opinion of underage drinking?

My encounters with drinking and people who drink have been really benign. I don’t actually know any drunk assholes, so I tend to have a “meh whatever” approach to alcohol. Also, I’m of the opinion that teenagers who have the twin forces of “alcohol is cool” and “THOU MUST NOT DRINK” working on them are more inclined to develop a dependency than anyone who’s raised to believe it’s no big deal. This could just be me projecting my thought process to most of the population though.

4. Do you have a favorite foreign work? (A video game, movie, book, album, TV series, etc. “Foreign” doesn’t have to mean “non-English”, just “not from your native country”.)

I am discounting English from this list, because about 80 percent of the media I consume is English. And the answer is... not particularly? I like some manga and anime, and I like a few Bollywood movies (Bollywood, FYI, is more foreign to me than English is, because Hindi is my third language.) but the preferences change with time.

5. What’s the most creative cuss word?

I cuss to relive emotions, so I’m not really concerned with creativity as much as utility. FUCK FUCK MOTHERFUCKING FUCK SHIT FUCKER works way better than thrice-damned festering baboon’s bottom or whatever.

6. You see a millipede. What is your reaction?

Is it somewhere where people will step on it? If so, I’ll nudge it with a toe and the flick the curled up body aside with my foot. If it’s out of the way in a corner somewhere, I ignore it.

7. Name your least favorite Hogwarts House*. Would you date a person from that House?

Probably an inflexible Hufflepuff Primary combined with H2/G2. Or a particularly self-centered S1/G2. And yes to the dating, because I am VERY fond of the more rational versions of both of those combinations. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin etc.

8. If a complete stranger paid for your college textbooks, without asking anything in return, how would you react?

"I really appreciate the gesture, but can you just give me the money so I can buy a tablet and the ebook editions? It’s really way more practical.”

No, not really. I’d probably say a confused thank you and ask why.

9. Do you know the name of this character (&) without googling it?

Yes. It’s an Ampersand.

10. What’s your time zone?

GMT +0530

11. If you could learn any country’s history, what would you be most interested in learning [about them]?

How did the people who were not royalty or nobility live? In particular, what was the status and role of women in society and the household, because there is not enough of that in traditional History.

QUESTIONS! ANSWER THESE!

1. Have you ever watched/read about a character and gone “OOOOH I want to be them when I grow up!” ?

2. For how long and at what times do you sleep, on an average?

3. Do you ever struggle with separating the author/actor/director/etc. from a work? Or do you see the them as two parts of a whole?

4. What are your feelings on superhero movies? Most liked and least liked?

5. The obligatory desert island question; you wake up marooned in a sandy beach with coconut palms and a what looks like a jungle a couple of hundred meters away. assuming that the violently pink backpack next to you magically contains everything you could possibly require, what is your first move?

6. Do you have a favourite fairytale or failrytale motif? Do you like fairytale retellings?

7. What are your thoughts on religion? On evangelization? (You are welcome to skip the question if you don’t want to answer it.)

8. If you were stuck in a dungeons and dragons like rpg world, what would be your preferred species/class? Also, how long do you think you would last out there?

9. Name a petty pet peeve.

10. Describe your dream house/apartment/log cabin in the woods/etc.

11. Do you like answering tumblr asks?

tagging @what-may-be-perceived, @conjurewithrisk, @ariibatchelder

#post #ask meme

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mtwy · 7 years

Photo

The Face

UK February 1985

The girl can’t help it. She wanted to dance, sing, anything, as long as the spotlight was on. Madonna grew up with a bad case of ambition, and very little shame. It’s too late to stop now. The self-styled Boy Toy is a star. She might even make a good actress........

The Glamourous Life

By Jeffrey Ferry

“MANIPULATING PEOPLE, THAT’S what I’m good at” Madonna says it matter-of-factly. and smiles. Her upper lip stretches taut across her wide mouth, her teeth flash, and she laughs. The laugh says she’s making a joke, and you’re not meant to believe it. But the eyes tell you to believe. The wide round eyes, staring innocently but urgently at you implore you to believe her. She is serious. She’s a serious girl. Madonna wants desperately to be a star. A big star. Having a Number One single and a Number Two LP in the US, as she did in December, is nowhere near enough. She got in trouble for saying on American TV that her ultimate goal was to rule the world. She says to me instead that it is to stand next to God. and laughs. But I believe her. There is something special about her. It has little to do with her singing, which is indifferent, nor her dancing, which is merely proficient, nor her fashion sense, which we can summarise best perhaps by saying she is a fast learner. It has something to do with the beauty and sexuality she radiates, but even more, it is the effect of her extraordinary personality. Madonna is a strange, uniquely American creation: on the outside she is all ambition and determination, raw will to succeed. But on the inside, like a grain at the centre of a pearl, is a strange and unexpected fragility. The tension between these two makes Madonna a fascinating, even irresistible character; one who, it is all too easy to believe, is destined for the success she craves.

Possibly she will do it as a pop star, you feel, but perhaps more likely, as an actress. And there are some people in New York who are saying she will be the next Marilyn Monroe …

“Madonna is a child-woman,” says Maripol, her French-born clothes designer. She is fun and joyful, but she is also a femme fatale. She is vulnerable – but then she’s not that vulnerable. She’s not tough exactly – but she’ll survive through anything. She’s a natural star. She is born to stardom.

WHAT SHE WAS BORN to, in fact, was a large lower-middle-class Italian-American family in industrial Detroit, Michigan. The Ciccones might have been a very happy family, if Madonna’s mother hadn’t died early on of cancer, tragically misdiagnosed by the doctors. Young Madonna was only seven at the time and her world was shattered. Her father couldn’t cope with taking care of six children and holding down his engineering job, working on defence systems for the Chrysler Corporation, so the children were sent off to live with various relatives. After several months of shuttling from relative to relative, Madonna’s father hired a housekeeper and all the children were able to return home. But for Madonna there was no going back to the stability of earlier days. Her father went through a succession of housekeepers, none of whom Madonna remembers liking. He eventually married one of them, when Madonna was ten.

“My father’s marriage was a surprise to us because we all thought he was going to marry someone else who looked very much like our mother, and we were rooting for her. She looked sorta like Natalie Wood, or that’s what I thought she looked like when I was a child. But then suddenly he didn’t marry her … I wasn’t that fond of my stepmother. She was really gung-ho, very strict, a real disciplinarian.” Without getting excessively Freudian about it, it seems fair to say that Madonna’s childhood experiences have a lot to do with the fragility and insecurity which Madonna exudes. But at the same time, she was a fighter, and the struggle to win the love she sought from her father, in competition with her stepmother and the seven other children in the house, turned the little girl into a very precocious young woman: “From when I was very young, I just knew that being a girl and being charming in a feminine sort of way could get me a lot of things, and I milked it for everything I could.”

The strict discipline of her Catholic school education reinforced Madonna’s feelings of being lonely and unloved – she describes Catholicism as dark, painful and guilt-ridden – and responded by becoming an even more flamboyant attention-getter.

“I wanted to do everything everybody told me I couldn’t do. I had to wear a uniform to school, I couldn’t wear make-up, I couldn’t wear nylon stockings, I couldn’t cut my hair, I couldn’t go on dates. I couldn’t even go to the movies with my friends. So when I’d go to school I’d roll up my uniform skirt so it was short, I’d go to the school bathroom and put make-up on and change into nylon stockings I’d brought. I was incredibly flirtatious and I’d do anything to rebel against my father.”

Her craving for attention led her into performing. At school, she was a cheerleader and a baton-twirler, but soon became more ambitious:

“Every chance to make up a little song and dance routine, I took advantage of it, and I always got standing ovations. Finally I decided to devote myself professionally to it. I started taking ballet classes with a really strict ballet teacher – he was very Catholic and disciplined. He’s the one who really inspired me. He kept saying ‘you’re different’ and ‘you’re beautiful’. He never said I’d make a great dancer, he just said you’re very special.” Dance and performing provided the outlet for her energies that she was seeking, and filled the voids she felt. “I never had a group of friends in school. I kept to myself and did what I wanted to do. But it bothered me. I think I was lonely in lots of ways. And when I latched onto the dance thing, I was with older and more sophisticated people. I felt really superior. I just felt that all this suffering that I felt for not fitting in is worth it – I don’t fit in because I don’t belong here, I thought. I belong in some special world”

MADONNA TALKS ABOUT THE development of her extrovert, showbiz ‘sex-kitten’ persona with an almost clinical dettachment. It is as if she too is amazed that such a lonely little girl could grow such a rock hard outer layer of ambition. But grow it she did, and by her late teenage years, the determination to be a star utterly eclipsed everything else in her life.

I asked Madonna if, as a Catholic, she found it difficult deciding to lose her virginity.

“Oh no. I thought of it as a career move.”

Laughter – and again those wide eyes which refuse to let you take it as just another joke.

At 17 Madonna set off in search of her special world – she went to New York. “It was the first plane ride of my life. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t have a place to stay, and I only had $35 in my pocket.”

Times were rough at first. She moved around constantly, was often broke, and didn’t really enjoy the dance schools she enrolled in. But she graduated to the world of rock’n’roll, sensing that it held out the best possibilities for stardom.

The story of her rise to fame has such a methodical inevitability, you’d think it was written in Hollywood. Indeed, Madonna’s story would have made a far better film than the actual Flashdance. In New York she met a boy named Dan, who persuaded her to join his rock band and move in with him. He taught her to play guitar and write music. Then a boy named Steve, an old boyfriend from Detroit, whom she bumped into by chance in New York, inspired her to take her music in a disco direction, and to make some demo tapes. Her next boyfriend introduced her to New York’s thriving new wave nightclub scene. Madonna developed an interest in trendy fashion and became one of New York’s night people. She went to the trendy discos nearly every night, and told everybody she met that she wanted to be – was going to be – a big star.

It was in the NY clubs that she developed her own dress style, one which is still with her. Picture it as a wrestling match between knitwear and lingerie, with major damage sustained on both sides. She makes up for the skimpiness of her garments with a stunningly excessive collection of jewellery, mostly in metal and rubber, much of it with a strong Catholic motif (crucifixes and rosaries in places which would give nuns apoplexy). The jewellery – from Maripolitan on Bleecker St. – is much the best bit, and you don’t need to have the body of Madonna to wear it. Mark Kamins. DJ at Danceteria, met her in those days: Madonna was special – young and a little bit naive. She had her own style -always with the little bellybutton showing, the net top, and the stockings. But she always knew what she wanted to do. She had a tremendous desire to perform for people. When she’d start dancing, there’d be twenty people getting up and dancing with her.

It was Mark Kamins – yes, he was a boyfriend too – who gave her her first big break. She persuaded him to play her demo cassette at Danceteria one Saturday night. The song was Everybody. Mark loved it and so did the club regulars. He took it round to the record companies. Sire immediately signed her to make three 12-inch dance-orientated singles. Once again it was as much her personality as her music ability that got her the record deal. Seymour Stein, the president of Sire Records, is one of the shrewdest and most discerning figures in the New York music business. Not known as a sucker for pretty young girls, he nevertheless was struck by Madonna’s specialness.

“I was in hospital when I heard about Madonna. From what I’d heard I wanted to meet her immediately. So Mark Kamins brought her in and I signed the contract there, right in the hospital. You know, you normally don’t care what you look like when you’re in hospital. But I shaved, I combed my hair. I got a new dressing gown. From what I’d heard, I was excited to meet Madonna. And there was something that set her apart immediately. She was outgoing, strong, dynamic …”

Self-confident? “Oh no, I’d say … self-assured.”

THE FIRST TWO SINGLES, Everybody and Burning Up, were big disco hits, but, with very low-key promotion, made only a slight impact in the pop charts. At this stage, many of Madonna’s disco fans actually believed she was black. Her success in the discos convinced Sire, and their parent company Warner Brothers, to release an LP with the third single and to wheel out the big promotional guns, which are vital for breaking into the pop charts in America,

The single, Holiday, went Top 20 and became a summer anthem in America. It is perhaps the quintessential Madonna song – a catchy tune and a disco beat wrapped in a crisp New York production, elegantly straddling all the racial and stylistic boundaries that compartmentalise the American charts.

And that was without a video. The next single, Borderline, was promoted with a very neat little video. Madonna plays a leather-clad street girl frolicking around Manhattan’s Lower West Side with cars, spray paint, and, of course, boys. When American youth got their eyes on her – those clothes! those lips! those crucifixes! that bellybutton!! – there was no stopping it. She had made the Big Time.

NOW WITH WHAT SHE CALLS the Warners’ star machine solidly behind her, there can be little doubt that the best is yet to come. The latest single, Like A Virgin, reached Number One in the US with the help of a video in which Madonna goes to Venice to cavort with gondolas, lions, and – no prizes for guessing -boys. Its cost is believed to have run into six figures. The second LP, also called Like a Virgin, is produced by Nile Rogers, ex-Chic, after his work with David Bowie, once again the hottest producer in New York.

Her music is developing, refining the early disco dolly style into a purer pop, but also straying into other areas of black-influenced music. There are some refreshing echoes of Motown on the new LP – as well as an unfortunate sacrilege to the memory of the old Rose Royce song Love Don’t Live Here Anymore.

But however much the music may be developing, Madonna’s image seems fixed immovably in the role of the sex kitten. Her album jacket photos and her lyrics all seem to suggest that her highest aspiration is the one she wears on her famous belt: BOY TOY.

Within the world of pop, what does Madonna stand for, besides the pleasures of BoyToy-hood? Madonna unfortunately seems to have no answer to this question. Not only has she not thought much about her own image, it seems as if she hasn’t thought much about pop music at all. It is as if the ambition and the success are all that concern her: the route taken to achieve them seems barely worth a second glance. Let’s ask her.

Madonna, what videos do you like?

“Oh. I don’t know. John, what videos do I like? You know … . (John – current boyfriend John “Jellybean” Benitez – shrugs.)

What music do you like?

“Oh, I like Bronski Beat . . . John, what else do I like?” (John shrugs.)

“I like music that has soul. I like good music.”

What actresses do you like?

“Marilyn Monroe, Carole Lombard.”

Great. What current ones?

“Oh, Jessica Lange, Susan Sarandon – but John likes them more than me.” All of your songs seem to be about boys … “‘Over And Over’ isn’t.” What’s that about? “Ambition.” Well, what else would you like to write about? “Long pause . . . My childhood. I’d write about growing up and feeling lonely. How you never find the love you need at home.” Are you a Boy Toy? “That’s a joke. It’s a tag name given to me when I first arrived in New York. In New York people wear their nicknames on their belts. You have to see the joke.” Yes, but do you feel happy recommending to the girls of America that they turn themselves into Boy Toys? “It’s a personal statement. It’s not for the women of the world, only for myself.” So what is the statement? That you’re burning up for my love? That you’re bending over backwards for my love? (cf Burning Up). Pause – long enough for those beautiful eyes to send out a bolt of pure animosity – but also for a bit of thought. “It’s a statement for innocent sexuality.” So you are encouraging all the junior high school girls of America, not to mention the Catholic school girls – to indulge in innocent sexuality? (Exasperated) “Boy Toy is a joke.” To judge from the above, not particularly pleasant exchange, Madonna is set fair to become the Jane Fonda of the under-21s, exhorting girls everywhere to fight the noble struggle against stomach bulges, unsightly blemishes, and lonely nights without the man of their dreams. But there may be more to Madonna …

LATER THIS YEAR WILL APPEAR Madonna’s first feature film. Desperately Seeking Susan. In it she plays a free-spirited young girl who captivates a middle-class housewife. It sounds like an ideal role for her. The film is directed by Susan Seidelman, who made the well-received Smithereens. Madonna is very keen to do more acting, and indeed shows far more enthusiasm for movies than for pop music. She senses that her special qualities, her child-woman-ness and her honesty, as well as her wit, lend themselves far better to the more nuanced medium of film than they do to the very direct, plastic medium of pop. The comparison between Madonna and Marilyn Monroe goes beyond the physical resemblance, and beyond Madonna’s penchant for punctuating her singing with Monroe-esque squeaks, squeals, and gasps. Like Marilyn, Madonna had an unhappy childhood which gave her a bottomless desire for public acceptance, and a conviction that she could only win it with sex appeal. Like Marilyn, Madonna has the intelligence and wit to raise the sex appeal above the level of crass vulgarity (like Marilyn, this requires the right directors). Madonna, what do you like about Marilyn Monroe?

“Her innocence and her sexuality and her humour and her vulnerability.”

You have all those qualities. I know. As Madonna walked silently down the streets of Greenwich Village, decked out like some Christmas tree in nylons, but shrinking with uncertainty under all the glances she gets, and brightening only when she is sure each look is admiring. I was reminded of Dame Edith Sitwell’s description of Marilyn, Monroe: a beautiful ghost.

Like Marilyn. Madonna seems to have allowed the obsessive quest for fame and adulation to blot out her enjoyment of all the lesser pleasures of life. Not only does she not seem to take much pleasure from music or dancing, she doesn’t even seem to enjoy her boyfriends very much.

I was very surprised, in light of all the gossip now circulating about how Madonna had used her boyfriends ruthlessly in her climb to the top, to find that her past boyfriends all remembered her fondly; while she seems to have found very little worth remembering in any of her relationships. New York is full of rumours that her current relationship with ‘Jellybean’ is on the skids – another likely victim of the goddess’ fame. Madonna’s hardened case of ambition may carry her to great success, but it risks also crushing the sensitive girl that remains inside.

One of her ex-boyfriends told me:

“I think Madonna’s living out the Monroe myth even more than she suspects. Sex is Madonna’s calling card. She knows she’s a sex symbol, and she uses it in a self-conscious way. to the point where it’s become her only way of communicating. It’s becoming the only way she can feel comfortable and know she’s wanted. She’s deeply terrified of herself and of being alone with herself. Yet she’s a much more interesting person than she knows, and a much more fragile person than she wants to admit. But I fear for her if she doesn’t change the way she operates.”

That sounds not only like a recipe for unhappiness but the best argument that could be made against Boy Toyhood as a desirable objective for any girl.

It also sounds, just possibly, like a prescription for a very good actress.

MARIPOL WAS WITH Madonna the night she performed live on national TV at the MTV awards: “When we left, the kids were waiting for Madonna in the street, cheering. As we went into the limo, I was watching her. She was looking at all the kids, and she was wondering why she was here.

“She wanted to be there, with them, in the street, yelling at herself. And I looked at her face, and it was pure innocence and pure joy.”

#theface #uk #magazines #1985 #thevirginera

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