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new character playlist just dropped. had to make one for my best girl

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maus from the 1991 art spiegelman graphic novel. alter as needed.

if you lock them together in a room with no food for a week, then you could see what it is: friends!

you're late. i was worried.

no one wants to hear such stories.

people always told me i looked like rudolph valentino.

let's get engaged.

looks aren't everything.

let me make you happy!

i'd like to show you off to my friends.

my parents would like you to come to dinner tomorrow night.

no telephone calls, no letters, nothing! what happened?

what have i done that's so horrible?

hide this package for me. don't tell anyone about it.

look now what you made me do!

what's wrong, darling?

nothing matters.

i just don't want to live.

here, baby. drink this and rest.

look at how beautiful these gardens are.

i think of you as part of my own family.

you see how i have to suffer?

my hand is sore from writing all this down.

finish at least what's on your plate.

you should know it's impossible to argue.

where do you think you're going?

show me your hands.

i'll write to you.

thank god you're safe!

you always tell me the same things. there's nothing i can do.

you make the worst coffee i've ever tasted.

it looks like a million dollars on you.

just come sit with me.

your stew is even tastier than i remembered.

cut the cards.

you have excellent taste in furniture.

if you want to stay alive, go back inside.

it still makes me cry.

stop with the smoking.

don't be so smart!

maybe you should lie down a while.

my nerves are completely shot.

now, now, boy.

it's good you got it outside your system.

it's bad luck to even speak of it!

i can bribe them.

we must all stay together. we've made it this far.

i can't stand all these worms crawling over me.

we'd better wait til things quiet down.

i'll do everything i can.

i'm going to blow your brains out.

no, darling! to die, it's easy, but you have to struggle for life! until the last moment we must struggle together.

you're now old enough.

easy. let's go home.

i feel like i'm in prison! i feel like i'm going to burst!

someday you'll be famous.

it's a miracle! how did you manage it?

i hardly recognized you.

you can come into my house for an hour or so til you warm up.

things can't be this bad everywhere.

you're crazy. it's too dangerous.

i've always taken care of you. trust me.

here, darling. i have a present for you.

goddamn you!

you should visit here more often. don't be such a stranger!

i'm trying to figure out what kind of animal you would be.

reminds me too much of my relatives to be erotic.

i guess i bit off more than i could chew.

light me a cigarette.

i made you a bed. you can be comfortable here.

um. have you seen my pants?

what a miser!

god. if it wasn't so pathetic, it'd be kinda funny.

damn it, you're driving me nuts!

remember my house is also your house.

of course, darling. you can ask me anything.

why are you crying, my son?

aren't you afraid you'll get caught?

lately, i've been feeling depressed.

sometimes i just don't feel like a functioning adult.

mostly i feel like crying.

keep yourself strong. for my sake.

just seeing you again gives me strength.

i think about you always.

it's good to know how to do everything.

i'll get you anything you want.

leaving? but you only just came!

i'm starting to feel human again!

want some chocolate?

never you mind, darling. it's always a pleasure when you visit.

stop! i feel guilty enough already.

it's so good to see the sun.

that's enough stories for now.

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Teorema (1968) dir. Pier Paolo Pasolini

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"sure."

she is quiet for three beats. meat sizzles when she places it on the grill. "turn the tv on." her head gestures to the small remote, left where she had put it when cleaning up last night. "relax."

jaeyi moves between the refrigerator and counterspace three times before she makes her way to wesley. she places a tray down. it is covered in small white dishes of banchan. she sets down a second tray, this one with meat and rice and lettuce—also in their own bowls.

"is your partner here with you?"

"new york's a lot. it's great, but it's a lot." sometimes it's a relief to get out of the city, even if it's also always a relief to go back; he's not sure how to explain that in korean, though. "oh, i'm glad. i've been trying to get better. my partner is a good teacher."

wesley has been hovering, which always manages to look awkward. nothing can be inconspicuous at his height. still—it feels wrong to just sit down.

"can i help you with anything?"

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this guy.

"you know what, let me just—" she goes to the pantry. she brings back that famous red box. "that's betty crocker. it's a brand. see. of desserts. all we have to do is add an egg, some oil, and some water. boom. cake."

...nile's laughing? someone called betty crocker is locked up in a box somewhere, and she's laughing? xeno stares at her with a slack jaw. it's not clicking!

"what? what? i don't know! i'm not fucking with you!" that's a no for making a box cake before, then. sorry to betty crocker. "i'm—i'm old enough," he protests, spluttering, "who the fuck is betty crocker? did you put her in a box?"

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hm.

what the hell was that?

"the. the papers, or making me not look like a loser?"

to be clear, she does not think of herself as a loser. that didn't seem like something she would have to clarify with booker.

Call a spade a spade. What else do they have him for, right?

❝Don’t think that’s possible. Sorry to disappoint.❞

She could take that the wrong way. Anyone else, fine.

❝... I mean—❞

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isaik is not a sore spot, per say. it is only that marion does not want to discuss his love life with someone he sees as incredibly green and wet behind the ears. and he is a snob. that, too.

he drowns his discomfort in another cloud of greyscale smoke. nothing like a pall mall to take the edge off.

"i am not the world," he explains simply.

xeno is no stranger to eyerolls like that. call it a consequence of his aforementioned trouble with listening and understanding, he's equally familiar with marion's patronising tone. xeno mimics the eyeroll, though the copycat performance comes off only as petulant. "alright, alright. the whole point. take it up with him, not me."

at least he knows how easy it is to ruffle marion's feathers. isaik must be a pretty sore spot or, at least, one with the tendency to still itch.

xeno stifles a laugh, spotting marion's trembling grip, and passes it off as a cough into the crook of his elbow. a second later, there's a groan. "enough work?" he grimaces, slouching back in his chair. "what's the point in being good? this world's not good. i don't see why i should have to be on best behaviour. don't you think that's tremendously boring?"

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Ganja & Hess 1973, dir. Bill Gunn

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"that's what i'm sayi—hey!"

the compliment, albeit wrapped in tough guy language, flies over his head. mizushima hoped for some unwavering loyalty, considering they're a crew.

the small swell in his bottom lip and the tightness in his chin still manages to make him look petulant, despite the oh-so-advanced age he considers himself to be.

"i mean, yeah, i'm pretty damn good." his wader boot scuffs against the dock, looking more at it than akitsu. "it's only—we were schoolmates, a long time ago. before the war."

"They're not worth the shit out of your ass."

Harsh? Maybe.

"They're not gonna listen, so why waste your breath? You're better than that."

Idiot, he wanted to roll his eyes and call the kid, but that wouldn't be condusive to his point.

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"what the hell?"

nile laughs right in xeno's face. it isn't derisive, but the busting of it all could very well unintentionally make him feel embarrassed.

"no, man. oh my god. the, you know, the cake mix? betty crocker? c'mon. stop fucking with me. you've made a box cake before. how old are you?"

it's pretty funny, nile's reaction. xeno smothers a snort of his own, grinning at her instead. he used to get a kick out of surprising people like this, showing off in small and big ways, but that was before it earned him fifteen years of torture.

yusuf's family is safe, though. xeno trusts them, which means he trusts nile.

"betty crocker? wait, where is she?" xeno looks around, expecting to see betty crocker, who must of course be an actual person, stood behind him. "nobody told me someone called betty is staying here too. she's baking with us?"

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@fifthdimensicn as akitsu said: take it easy, kid.

meme tag.

mizushima scoffs, thumb rubbing into the meaty heel of his palm. he certainly does not look like he is taking the advice to heart.

"i am taking it easy," he placates, or at least attempts to. "those kids make me want to give them a piece of my mind, that's all. where'd they get the idea that they're better than me?"

he sighs, like he is finished. then, a sharp inhale. clearly not. "hell, than us?"

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YAMADA YUKI as Shiro Mizushima Godzilla Minus One (2023) dir. Takashi Yamazaki

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marion performs an eyeroll so colossal, it is a wonder he does not see his own brain stem.

"it wasn't written about him, that is the whole point." slowly, like how some people talk to someone who doesn't speak their language or a particularly dull-witted child, "jules léotard. the song is about jules léotard." more of a grumble, "isaik was hardly a twinkle in his mother's eye when it was penned."

it is as if the old argument had been rehashed. he shakes his head, annoyed with how easily xeno got underneath his skin. it is a good thing he elaborates, because marion grips the armrest so hard, his hand trembles.

he clears his throat, adjusts his weight in the seat. "if you. hm." a more pronounced clearing of the throat. "if you put in enough work and be a good boy, we shall see."

listening is a fair challenge for xeno when paired with the expectation of sitting still and reining in his restless habits. he has yet to learn that there is a reason for his hyperactivity and satisfies himself with a petulant eye roll at marion's rebuke.

once that's out of the way, he settles long enough to pay due attention to the story.

"isaik," he echoes the name in a gesture that is more meaningful than it appears. he's committing the name to memory, honouring this part of marion's life by inviting it into his eternal mind. a smile grows at the song snippet, efficiently sung. "i know the song. you're serious? damn. never would've guessed you had a famous lover."

it's a light tease. rectifying his slouched position, xeno sits up straighter, unleashing his own version of the smirk that marion attempts to limit. "that's awfully good of him. always polite to say hello. i wouldn't dream of doing anything else." he smothers a snort. then, the spark of an idea: "how's about this, you take me with you the next time you visit. not to say hello to isaik, don't fall off your chair, just to the circus."

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"oh. yeah, it's a big difference." her foot props open a fridge so she can use both hands. it closes the door, too, a fluid pop back that barely registers as conscious.

she begins to gather up her hair with a tie she had around her wrist. "i've never been. to new york. to the united states. i've barely been out of manyang. maybe someday."

jaeyi turns an eye on. click-click-foosh. "your korean is good."

"very nice to meet you."

wesley is conscious of not intruding, so the invitation is a relief. he is in the process of adjusting to the time difference, reconfiguring his schedule around work.

"that'd be great, thank you." he nods, grateful, before following her inside. "i'm still getting used to it. the time. it's close to midnight in new york."

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more to the point, continuing my last post, the entire concept of the gilda stories make me craaaaazy. imagine turning vampire lore on its head, saying what humanity knows about vampirism is a small sect that the others hate because they cherish and love and study with reverence every human and turn them if both parties are absolutely sure of the responsibility they will have to hold to each other. and the explorations of feminism, black sexuality (particularly black lesbianism, gilda is a STUD!), and the importance and fluidity of family when you're immortal.