#2001 seems to be as far back as I can recall for now

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Persona 3 Problems: Maiko Birthday Shenanigans!

Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Interesting things going on with Maiko in the fandom. Won't say what but let's just say......jail to that person (and *saves screenshot* At least FeMC fans have ammo to fire back TT0TT)

BUT besides that......welllllll. That post made me realize something. Atlus is inconsistent about her age!

Maybe that's why I thought Maiko was A LOT closer to Ken's age than I originally thought, but the game (iirc OG/FES/3P) actually says she's a 2nd grader. I DO remember P3P stating that, because that's the version I usually play (SHOCKER! in my defense half of it is because it's usually on the go, and the other half is I like seeing differences between the male/female sides....it's also faster). Anyway, it was also the first thing I checked when I did a playthrough, so I'm fairly certain.

Buuuuut according to the wiki (fandom one, I know I know, issues, I'll see what I can do about updating it, but I have to bring ammo/screenshots u_u), she's a Libra (ok so far so good, also Nanako is a Libra, ironically, also Nanako is in 1st grade iirc), and she's.....9. HuH? Wut?

Apparently P3P will list her as 9 years old. Specifically on the TV missing person announcement..... Which I do vaguely recall them mentioning her on the TV, I don't remember the age they mentioned. ;w; So I'll need to double check that.

Anyway this is a problem, because it doesn't make sense/add up, and contradicts the line about being a 2nd grader (fun fact: if you clicked the link above, Maiko is born the same year as Futaba, but Futaba should be a year ahead of her....tho iirc P5S states Futaba's been held back a year? So now they are ironically in the same grade? TT0TT). 1st graders in Japan are generally 6->7, and 2nd graders are 7->8, 3rd 8->9, 4th 9->10, 5th 10->11 and so on! So Maiko can't be a 2nd grader and 9 unless she was held back....which the OG text doesn't indicate. But if she WAS 9, she'd be either a 3rd or 4th grader (Ken is 5th grade). I'd have to check, but I coulda sworn she was much smaller than Ken (who would only be a grade or 2 above her).

Fun fact she goes missing (assuming the websites are correct) around 10/21. I'd have to look at the timing of the news broadcast, but that would mean she we missing 1) a little while after her birthday (between a few weeks to literally yesterday) , 2) it was on her birthday (;w;), 3) it was the day before her birthday (;w;)

Because of that ONE day, it's hard to tell if it's saying she JUST turned 9, or is actually about to turn 10.

Her birthday, if the 2nd grader thing is correct (along with the Libra thing), she'd be turning 8 in 2009. So 2009-8=2001! So her birthday should be c. September 23-October 22, 2001 (she'd be 14->15 in P5 but 15 in P5S. Futaba for ref turned 15 before P5 started and turned 16 near the end of P5, and is 16 in P5S)

If the 3rd grade theory is correct, the the birthday would be: c. September 23-October 22, 2000 (this would put her in the same year as Futaba, assuming Futaba didn't drop out originally)

If the 4th grade theory is correct (assuming she hadn't had her birthday): September 23-October 22, 1999 (this would put her in the same year as P5MC/Anne/Ryu/Yusuke, for reference on Ken, Ken is in the same grade as Goro/Mako/Haru).

The fandom Wiki seems to be going for the latter two (if you read the hovered note).

Personally? I think P3P just.......made a mistake (people like the bring up "Atlus can't math" a lot esp with that one thing with P4, so it's not that far fetched). That OR (which I think is funnier and more tragic TT0TT). Her parents reported her age wrong. ajskdflj;f

I mean, they are in the middle of (or just finished their) divorce. They are both a taaaaaad bit neglectful since they don't realize Maiko's been hanging out with a high schooler for so long (as well as planning to run away). So I wouldn't be surprised if they fucked up the reporting lkajfdsljfaka So it might not be a Persona 3 (Portable) Problem, but a .....Persona Parent problem! ;D

ANYWAY, this is something I wanna keep an eye out when I replay the P3 games (along side when I'm playing P3R). So expect a sequel post.

[hardfeeling505]

All about her

This story is about my experience became friend with someone i accidentally met on random tiktok live and i asking her to be FRIEND MOOTS

her nickname idk, i just call her M, she is the oldest child, from what i see she is a very good big sis to her younger sis(her sister is so lucky to have u M).height 5'4 feet in cm its like 162.56 (she told me how else i know😐)born on September something 2005. I thought i'm going to jail man😐 but i born on 2001 so it okay, thanks God for that✊ (im a little bit cooked tbh i'm on a thin ice right back there😔) she a Filipino Canadian Girl, raised in Alberta , Edmonton , Canada. It take about 24hr 45 min flight from my place. One day i hope for to meeting her in person😤,even though i know its not gonna happen(just me being delulu).

Actually, i want to witness the flower bloom in spring with my own eyes + Also meeting my buddy. She told me her province is known for Grand Prairie’s and stuff, it's like a full green land and have so many lake ,as i recall there also a moutain (6 hours ride from her home) bcs she told me that there is so many wild flower will bloom when it spring season. I bet the view is so beautiful, you know nature and beautiful, a word that can't be separated, and yes always beautiful + watching with her? Bro!! i gotta prepare insulin injection bcs i might got sick from all those sweet moment with her

(🗣️📢🔥🔥🔥this is not a pickup line).

Other thing about her.She is one of the lactose intolerant victim , can't drink or eat anything contain dairy stuff ,only almond milk. She told me she can't eat corndog ,poor her.😭 Bro!! i eat corndog like i cant even count how much i eat.When she say that , i wish i can give her a hug but must keep it halal (yes i'm a muslim). Furthermore, i like like like it when she go suddenly share random fact about her ,one example of it "i hate energy drink" and "im just got choke from reading your comment bro" , she so random Bro that is one of her charm and i loving it (as a buddy ofc)

And one moment, my dumbass go tell her to try drink banana milk, After re-read my chat i go Oof what have i done😐. I genuinely want to kick myself for that I'm so sorry M forgive me please i think i half asleep at that moment not thinking straight. 🙏 (im doom can't think of any better excuses Help😔)

Also the so CUTE impression of her i can't hold myself to tease her😭(im cooked). SO STRONG INFJ VIBE FR. There is one morning we chatting about breakfast , she say she making a toast bread, I ask her "M you eating the bread with what? peanut butter?" and she answer "i eat it with banana and something" , then i say "i like banana too" for real i like banana💯. Then, i saw my opportunity to tease her and i took it😭, i start with asking her "u know what i like too?" ,she reply "what?" , it might seem crazy what gonna say, i with my full consciousness say " i like strawberry jam, strawbewwy jam is so✨✨" , and she reply with "Oooh" then "okay". I feel like a bad guy at that moment but man she so cute i cant resist it I am so sorry M forgive me🙏😔. (i want to do it again frfr)

She going into Nursing then paramedics like ambulance people, praying for her to achieve her dream, Amin .Please God give her All the strength she need bcs im so far away from her🤲.(Proud for her Bro as buddy ofc).She enjoy work out so much (i like it too💯), consider it her hobby for now.She like to say LOL a lot i know everyone does but her LOL is different for me (dont attack me).

One more thing i like about her is her habits to explain to me about something until i truly understand, her effort Bro!!. (she like to express her feeling by put it all in her writing). I swear i will like and always read everything she wrote man like i feel like my eyes and brain (my whole life existance) is created by god to read her essay man, to listen to her. I literally crying right now while writing this. thank god i not writing this on paper man.She so precious to me Bro!!! like very unreal to me and i dont deserve to get to know her, to good to be true.

(Pls read this one paragraph below while listen to Everygreen by Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners trust me)

one moment , i talk to her about snow (we like to talk about random stuff) anyways it go like this i ask " M, is it spring there?" she answer "it still winter season " , after that i told her "i like winter but i like to see flower bloom in spring more" , and she start telling me all of her life experience living in 4 season, after that we caught in deep talk moment it for like forever for me (it feel long for me) It so beautiful man talking to her, its healing me. Then the sentence hit me.I dont want to lose her as a buddy ofc(she already on a somewhat relationship).

- her Twice bias is dahyun meanwhile mine is sana

- her Aespa bias is karina(same as me)

- her Nmixx bias is lily(same twice) Do you see there is a sign here.

Finally we are here thank for staying with me on this journey,The Main Topic is her MBTI😤

A Beautiful yet So Soft INFJ personality ,i have so much interest in this mbti man,you know this type of mbti is so rare. I am shooketh yes my jaw drop ahh so cringe but it is frfr when she told me her mbti i am so shock Lol, i never found this type before all of my friend male/ female is always started with E and end with J or some case started with I and end with P, what i want to say is it so weird to me this type of MBTI INFJ. It so UNIQUE thats the word .Don't want to be so hype talking to her so i tried to cover with "oh idk u were an I" meanwhile me talking to myself ofc she an I you dummy she like nature and stuff also she admire cat ☝️😃 Also it her fav animal. (i bet you 100 dollar she will pat every cat she bypass)

About her song taste is interesting .Quite similar to me or just the same genre?🤔 As expected from her MBTI type. Her fav song is My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski (this song is PERFECT just like her)😤 *i want to cry again bro. She has 39K+ minutes streaming on spotify for this song ALONE (she told me). JUST FOR 39k MINUTES ??? THE SONG IS IN YOUR BLOOD GIRL FRFR . It Mother Mitski song never ever doubted her song✊). One statement from M. "I actually have 209k minutes of listening to music on Spotify😌"

I want to ask her ig so bad Bro!!! or anything that can i use to reach/contact her others from tiktok. i can't use my sticker that the main reason, all my hilarious meme collection relatable go to waste and also i'm a coward.

Something i truly get hurt from is the fact she have anxiety/panic attack(she frequently got stomachache).I really want to know how to pleasant or calming her, tbh i try search and read many article about anxiety, unfortunately ,i don't find any effective ways just some drinking water and stuff like that😔. Even though i suffer from same thing but i too don't know any tips.Maybe try go to therapy session like me once a week?(its not working for me my therapist just want my money i know it not that right Mr Lim? you scammer he is chinese).Article nowadays is unhelpful.

I think i just like her personality or am i? or im just too easy to catching feeling (maybe its true). It just a phase i guess i will get over it😌

Sorry i forgot to put her Newjeans bias(her ultimate Gir Group). Her bias is Kang Kaerin😸 , i agree with her Kang Haerin is so cute but She more cuter to me ahh i wish i could tell her this, what a coward i am. Ofc bcs they share the same Mbti INFJ (she like her so much, i bet her photo album of Kang Haerin is more than 500+ pic). Her bias wrecker is Danielle🐶(my bias), YES if you notice there is pattern here.If you a Bunnies, DaeRin Friendship you will get it what i mean. Also i make a Favorite Collection on my tiktok profile for her, I know i know, it nothing but i should do something for her. The Title "For Her , yep U" . I remember creating it 3 day after meet her, and ofc as buddy nothing personal. My tiktok name is Newjeans Haerin (cactus name)🥕 on her Jean'Zine solo vlog.

Btw I'm an INFP My MBTI ,funny right?

About my MBTI there is story too🤟.

Before the covid, i take the MBTI test between 2018-2019 i'm still in college back then and My first MBTI test result is ENFP. Fyi, i'm quite not shy person. Main reason, 2nd child curse?. i believe this is so true My family always ignore me frfr😭 but i know deep down of their heart they still care or maybe bcs“ i'm annoying "ahh kinda kid back then, I like hugging them, its that wrong?😃 that not a crime and i am still kid. I think clingy is the word😌🤟.Don't blame me, since birth i'm like this (im cooked)

After Covid, between 2023 year i retake the test the reason is i notice that my social skill is gone ,maybe bcs im live alone. Literally, It was like i scare to talk , i'm worry that someone will judge me when i approach them. I hate anxiety bro!! My condition is so bad at some point i can't breath normally , it like my chest is so full, i took various antistress pill(i stop taking them now) this entire pain after years not talking much to someone, only my cat Lol, i love my cat he so cute like frfr😭 his name is kuromi. he a black cat with yellow eye + he like hugging me,he is the only creature that like back when i hug😭 the other half of me. About friend i have friends so many friends but i don't usually contact them by phone or online its just me, i prefer go meet them , stop by for a drink like that , Face to face Obviously before covid what harm can happen to you by doing outdoor activity?get hit by car? actually that is harmful.Super harmful actually, really what the dangerous thing could happen to you? got sick from fever? Back then even social anxiety scare to me😔. Yeah i know what u thinking My friend when don't like the idea i want to hug them too , that not a new things to me i'm just joking 😔(im not).Frfr i have so many friends. It so easy to make friends Bro!! like just go talking to someone new i don't see any problem at all . It just 2 human talking like .

you=>🧍🏻talking🧍🏻<=me

Agree with me Dangerous Virus is just a myth before covid-19 exist, its like a movie title Bro so dumb. Just a small dumb virus ruining my life.

Continue my story about mbti test , i retake it, the result come out, and i got the INFP BRO!!☹️ as expected ,yeah the E is gone. Untill now i still not retake the test but im 💯 sure the E is back bcs starting this year at my workplace i slowly not slowly tbh Lol, easily can approach people now bro like frfr, i think i enjoy talking to people back , i like listen to them. i know what u think the hugging thing i can control it now.Bro i'm a grownass man now😭 (i still like hugging but not other gender keep stay halal). Maybe i should consider retake the test again this year🤔.Overall For who reading this now.Thank You Very Much For spend your time reading my yapping essay about someone who already i lost contact with. My conclusion is, Heals Really Take Time FRFR,you just has to trust the process.

#MBTI#Healing#infj#enfp#infp#Mitski#yapping#shortstory#fantasy#humor#frfr#halal#anxiety#covid#imcooked#haerin#danielle#newjeans#nmixx#lily#aespa#karina#twice#dahyun#sana#spotify#🥕#feeling#tiktok#tiktoklive#canada#alberta#edmonton

side note : i type all this while listen to her fav song on loop, I'm not good at writing essay unlike her, sorry for all grammatical error or miss place, word conjunction. Thanks all for the memory M. Hope ur doing Great Now.

[luna-rainbow]

Okay, so I’m still stewing on episode 10 and the lack there of a preview. A couple of things:

How are they going to resolve the car crash? I think potentials are: Dojun survives and dies from another event later; Dojun enters a coma and wakes up in the present to continue the story (and work out who killed him both lives); Dojun survives, thereby proving to himself that he can change the future, but also means he’s now in uncharted territory because he no longer knows what will come next.

If the President of Soonyoung dies in a car crash on the way to a media conference, and this being what 2001/2? Surely it would be all over the news (ie Hyunwoo would hear about it). It doesn’t make sense for Dojun to not recall the date and manner of death for the grandfather, so either he doesn’t die here or there was massive coverup about the death. I am already side-eyeing Dojun for taking 9 episodes to work out he had already died. The series has done amazing so far so I hope it doesn’t start handing out idiot balls.

The fact that Hyunwoo doesn’t remember Dojun’s existence at all is…very interesting. I mean Hyunwoo may have been too busy to keep up with the New Data scandal, but for someone who was doing so well, and who was the grandson of the conglomerate to just die and then disappear from everyone’s minds…it’s bizarre. Again I hope it’s explained well. Like I’m always curious when people die young and I’d read up on it. I’m surprised Hyunwoo didn’t bother.

Yejun (their cousin) still hasn’t appeared. For someone who seemed like she was an important antagonist, it’s interesting she’s appeared so late. It would be a cool twist if she turned out to be on Dojun’s side and wants to finish what he started, but I can’t see that happening.

Hwayoung and her husband were very snappish at each other in episode 1, suggesting what she did last episode had lasting impact on their marriage.

Interestingly, in episode 1, Dojun’s parents “no longer speak to each other”, and when Dojun’s mum marched in she lumped her (?ex) husband in with the rest of the family as someone who knew the truth of “the incident”. I hope Dojun’s dad doesn’t turn out to be a bad guy 😞 That would be supremely disappointing (of the family) especially after he said he would have Dojun’s back.

Lee Hangjae (the grandfather’s right hand man who he saw “as his son”) was notably absent from episode 1. Is his death significant?

I was banking on Seongjun having been reborn as well. There is just something very off about the way he acts now compared to the first episode. The way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his weird confidence, his uncharacteristic eagerness (for someone who said he didn’t want to inherit the company), and there were some weird lines that suggested he knew what was coming. And the way he treats Hyunmin, too, he’s got the control of the situation a lot better than he did before. So…this is either a dud theory or we haven’t seen the end of the past just yet.

Despite her minimal role, Shin Hyunbeen managed to capture the difference between a seasoned prosecutor in episode one and a newbie here. The way she’s a bit uncertain and a bit idealistic, versus the cynical but dogged older version. At the moment there’s simply not been enough screen time for the audience to care about her relationship with Dojun, and it’s not convincing that his death (if that’s what happens in this episode) will spur her onto become the grim reaper of Soonyang, unless this unravels into a coverup of immense scale.

The idea that the main character cannot change the world, even despite his immense wealth and reach, is…kinda nihilistic. What hope does anyone else have? I hope the story eventually leads to something else.

[the-chick-of-the-air]

Hello my lovelies!!

Ok let me just start by saying- 600 followers?! Are you kidding?? Thank you all SO much! I can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am to have every single one of you interested enough in my blog to be following me! Thank you thank you thank you!!!🥰🥰

Now I’m gonna repay you by breaking your hearts!

This is my first try at anything super angsty, so if your gonna yell at me afterwards please feel free to do so in the comments or in my ask box or even just reblogging and cursing me in the tags🤣 please let me know what you think!

TW: Major character death, mentions of vomiting and allusions to body mutilation- nothing graphic just vaguely indicated but whatever you are comfortable with is up to you! If any of what I warned makes you uncomfortable please don’t read! Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction!

Update: I’m sorry- I posted this and for some reason the tag list wasn’t working but it should be now! If your username has changed please let me know so I can tag you properly down below!❤️

Summary: Someone important dies. Cardan deals with it. Grab your tissues❤️

Final Resting Place

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” The folk are not in the habit of apologizing, much less for something that is so common. It matters not, Cardan has ceased listening, has heard nothing after The Bomb uttered those damning words.

Jude is dead.

He recalls, distantly, a time when Nicasia drug him halfway to her underwater kingdom, wishing to show him its beauty and splendor. He recalls how helpless he felt, how he could breathe but it wasn’t right. How he was silenced and the pressure from the water was crushing his chest so painfully it didn’t matter if he could breathe or not.

This feels near exactly like that.

“Your Highness?” Someone is asking a question he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t even ask them to repeat themselves. All he can do is state,

“She is to be brought back here. Burned on the pyres.” A Queen’s funeral. The only funerals the folk bothered to observe.

Someone, The Roach, likely, grunts in disapproval, “She… we…are not able to bring the body back. It was…”

Cardan isn’t sure what part of that statement makes his stomach churn the worst, the fact that they just referred to his wife, their queen as a body, or the fact that there apparently isn’t too much of her body to bring back.

He tries not to think, not to guess at what death was so brutal that she doesn’t even have a body left.

And that really is it, isn’t it? She, his fierce, vibrant, deadly queen, who always looked over her shoulder, is- was always so cautious, secretly ruling over a land that was designed to kill her, the mighty Jude Duarte, slayer of the folk-

Killed by something mortal.

In the mortal lands.

Where he sent her.

It was almost laughable, Cardan did laugh. Hysteria bubbling up in his chest like bile, which it might have been because suddenly the churning in his stomach was no longer violent but imminent and he’s throwing himself into the bathing chamber.

He doesn’t hear the court of shadows, her court of shadows, retreating as he retches into the chamber pot.

~.~

Time has lost all meaning.

It’s been days, weeks, months. The days pass in a blur, marked only by those who knew what she meant to him coming to give their condolences. Like it could lessen the pain of her being gone. Lessen the pain that came with the knowledge that this was his fault.

It was so ironic it hurt. Had he not exiled her to the mortal lands for her protection, she would have still been alive, ruling where she belonged, right by his side.

And now, she would never get to rule her kingdom openly. She would never share his throne, his crown, his name, his bed again.

She was gone before he got to have her.

And it was his own damn fault.

He refused to hold any audience with Taryn. It wasn’t fair, her twin was dead and she was parading around wearing her face. He knew that should he take one look at her, he would break beyond recognition.

The only thing keeping him alive on the throne being Jude’s memory, how she would have wanted, commanded him to keep ruling, even if she wasn’t there to do it with him.

He did allow an audience with Viviane, once. She had all but demanded it and would hardly take no for an answer. She arrived, eyes puffy and bloodshot, looking as terrible as he felt which didn’t seem fair either.

He wanted to be alone in his pain, for it to be all his own, because no one could understand, could relate to how he felt for her. Why should they share in his grief? The newest plate of armor he has cast over his heart?

She wasted no time on condolences, which in itself was strangely comforting. She got straight to the point, “You missed the funeral.”

“A mortal tradition.” His voice was hoarse with disuse. Had he gone so long without speaking to anyone? That didn’t seem possible.

“Dammit Cardan! She would have wanted you there.” Her anger was refreshing, a nice change of pace compared to the complete emptiness that was left behind in the shape of a mortal footprint upon his heart.

He almost wants to disagree, but that would make no sense. The folk can’t lie, not even half-fae.

When he doesn’t respond, Vivi crosses her arms, “Will you at least come visit her? Say your goodbyes? You have to say yes, we both know you need it.”

And painful as it was, she was right. The one thing that hurt worse than Jude being dead, knowing that it was because of him, was that he didn’t get to say goodbye. That all his letters to her went unanswered. That she died without knowing how much he needed her. How much he missed her and all she was to him. How much he…

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he silently rises and follows Vivi to his queen’s final resting place.

~.~

The mortal world is bright and loud and reeks of iron and is so alive it feels audacious. How dare anyone else continue living when someone from this place, someone so important, so above them was forced to forfeit that right?

The plot of land where she- what’s left of her- is laid to rest is small. The headstone sits, new and clean, next to two more that are dulled with age.

Justin and Eva Duarte.

Madoc had somehow procured graves for the two mortals he slaughtered, and now their youngest daughter lay beside them.

They are standing there for ten minutes before Vivi speaks, “You know, when someone visits the grave of someone they love, they usually look at it.” Her voice is monotone as she stares at the slab of stone sitting at the head of a patch of newly sprouted grass.

He’s not sure he can. If he looks, if he sees there is in fact a final stop, a final holding place for this restless mortal, then he will know it is real. That this wasn’t all some elaborate trick or punishment of her own making to get back at him for her banishment.

Foolish as it is, that was a dark hope buried deep inside him. That she was really still there, biding her time, waiting until he was just ruined enough to waltz back into his life to teach him a well deserved lesson. Perhaps on gratitude, on not taking things for granted.

It would be such a Jude thing to do.

A hand rests on his shoulder and he nearly flinches away, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Her footsteps recede, utterly fae and silent. So unlike the ones he desperately wishes to hear a final time.

It takes him maybe two minutes more for his eyes to finally find the headstone. He is shocked to find he can barely read what is inscribed upon it through tears that have filled his eyes.

Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

Beloved sister and wife

2001-2019

His tears come in earnest, then. How had he never known she took his name as well? Had cared enough to do so? Or was this something her sisters did to spite him? He pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle any sobs trying to break free.

Cautiously, so cautious she would be proud, he runs his fingers over the inscription of her name- their name. When he knows his voice will be steady, he speaks.

“Well, wife.” He presses his eyes closed as a fresh wave of tears pushes at his senses, “I doubt either of us saw it coming to this.” Gently, he tugs something out of the satchel he brought with him.

“It was yours. For you to wear upon your return. For when you came home.” He couldn’t stop his voice from breaking as he carefully laid the crown down at the foot of the headstone, glamoured so mortals would see it as a pile of painted rocks.

“I guess in a way, I got what you thought I wanted. For you to…” He can’t even bring himself to say it. He had never wanted this. When in palace lessons, he thought that dreams plagued with her scent, her voice, her touch had been the most horrid nightmares. He was wrong, this was far worse than any dream he had of her angry face, her soft hair. This was a nightmare terrifying enough to cripple the strongest of men.

“Well. I guess it doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter that I wish I could take back what I said about you in our childhood. That you would return to the earth, worm food.” He shudders, recalling that he had said those things while imagining that they would have followed a long life. One filled with her aging slowly due to living in Elfhame. Secret imaginings he only allowed himself in the darkest hours of the night- ones where he was by her side and they wreaked havoc together for the rest of their long, full lives. His next words are whispered, “I never imagined it would happen so soon.”

His hand returns to the headstone, gripping the cool rock tightly.

There is nothing left to say aside from one final message. Nothing left to do other than leave this place and continue on in his immortality, letting her fade into the backs of everyone’s memory as the Last Mortal Queen.

Taking a final shaky breath, Cardan utters the truth he had spent nearly his whole life repressing, trying to lie his way around. The words he now so desperately wishes he had said to her before he cast her out of their home in hopes of preventing this very thing from happening.

With one final look upon the place his wife, his queen is forever to rest upon, he whispers,

“I love you.”

~.~

Years and years and years later, young children of the gentry sit in their history lessons amongst their mortal classmates, and learn of the beautiful, treacherous life that was led by the Last Mortal Queen, Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

And that is that! Did I make you cry? Do you want to throw crumpled tissues at my head? Let me know!❤️ (I left out details of Jude’s death on purpose, it’s up to your imagination to come up with what happened to her, sorry for pain😬)

Tag list:

As always, please let me know through the comments or my inbox or any other way you are comfortable with and let me know if you wish to be added to my list so you can be alerted to my future works!

@maleckanejnessienjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed @df3ndyr @brittneyal @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @fuzzypineapples-blog @nahthanks @charrise @thefolkofthefic @theviolettulip @embersfromink @kittkatandbooboo

Till next time, loves!🥰

[positivexcellence]

After 15 years of 'Supernatural' demons, 'Walker' star Jared Padalecki ropes a 'very human' new role

As monster-hunting Sam Winchester on 15 seasons of “Supernatural,” Jared Padalecki had all manner of terrifying things happen to him on screen. In a pandemic world, however, having a ne’er-do-well spit in the face of the heroic new star of CW’s “Walker” – without a mask! – somehow seems more shocking than being possessed by a demon.

Don’t worry, members of the Padalecki faithful: It’s a special-effects loogie that flies in the actor’s face during the Thursday's premiere of the “Walker, Texas Ranger” reboot (8 EST/PST). “Believe me, there was a lengthy meeting about how to do the spitting,” says creator and executive producer Anna Fricke.

After more than a decade of being TV bros with Jensen Ackles, Padalecki gets the solo  spotlight with “Walker.” In the revamp of the 1993-2001 CBS show starring Chuck Norris and tons of martial arts, Padalecki stars as Cordell Walker, a Texas Ranger who has been away from his family for a while following the tragic, mysterious murder of his wife, Emily (Padalecki’s real-life spouse, Genevieve Padalecki). He returns to Austin to be father to his children – thoughtful son August (Kale Culley) and rebellious daughter Stella (Violet Brinson) – and partner to a new female Ranger, Micki (Lindsey Morgan).

“On ‘Supernatural,' we treated our world as reality. We were telling a science fiction thriller horror story,” Padalecki says. “So to go to a new show that's shot in a very real way, and we're not hunting God or Lucifer or angels or demons of any sort, has been a fun new world to immerse myself in."

“Walker” thus far has been a joy for Padalecki. He grew up in San Antonio and dreamed of living and working in Austin (where the show is also filmed), where he has lived for the past 10 years, and now he gets to do that “at the tender young age of 38.” He’s an executive producer on the show, though he’s used to living and breathing whatever series he’s on: “I don't feel right unless I do it with everything I’ve got.” And Padalecki can authentically channel a character who has spent important time away from his children after spending much of 15 years in Vancouver to film “Supernatural.”

“A lot of what Cordell goes through in the first couple of episodes is a lot of what Jared Padalecki went through,” he says. “I was off working a job that took a lot of my time and a lot of my bandwidth and a lot of my energy and focus.” He recalls being sent back to Austin last March because of  the COVID-19 pandemic before “Supernatural” had finished its final season, “and when I got home, Gen was sort of like, 'All right, well, pick up the garbage and make sure the kids don't kill each other.’ I was like: ‘Then what? What do I do with these things? They want to play with me, but it's hot outside.'

“Our reimagination of ‘Walker’ is a very human story about a person who maybe hid themselves in their work for a long time, because that was easier for them than dealing with the very human issues that affect us all.”

While Padalecki showed a lot of heart on “Supernatural,” “it was really important to Jared in this role to play a man,” Fricke says. “He had kind of grown up on that show." With the new series, "we wanted to show someone who was a little more war-torn. When we meet Walker, he is not in a great place, and it takes him a while to pull himself together."

In addition to drama, Padalecki gets to show off some of his horseback-riding skills: He has taken lessons, and he owned a horse with his wife when they lived in L.A. for a couple of years. “I had more experience on horseback going into ‘Walker’ than I had experience hunting demons going into ‘Supernatural,’ ” he quips.

But being able to rope bad guys on a TV show mid-ride is a new weapon in his holster. In fact, Padalecki keeps a few lassos around the house in case he needs to rope his kids for fun. “They're going, ‘Do me, do me!’ and so they would scooter by me and I'm just sitting there in the driveway roping them.”

Like the '90s show, the new "Walker" features plenty of action and a two-fisted nature. Old-school fans will recognize at least one face: Mitch Pileggi, who guest-starred in the original series, reappears as Padalecki’s onscreen dad. “We're very committed to letting the audience get a clear picture of what the show is going to be about,” Padalecki says, “but as we carry on, I'd love to have everybody (from the original cast) on the show.”

So who’s the likelier guest star: Karate icon Norris, or his former partner Ackles?

“Man, I've been blowing Jensen's phone up!” Padalecki says. His “Supernatural” co-star is soon traveling to Toronto to film scenes for the new season of Amazon’s “The Boys,” “but you'd better believe that as soon as he's back in Texas, I'll be knocking on his door and telling him we need somebody bowlegged to get up on a horse and ride next to me.”

X

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Cristo y Tú vivís en mi corazón.

 Capítulo Dos.( second chapter.)

Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, seizures, medical procedures, self indulgent use of an ABBA song, Catholicism, maybe a swear or two. If you are under 18…please go to sleep instead and do not read my works!!!!

Medikua; is Basque for Doctor. Espagnole is French for Spaniard. I realize he’s not a spaniard but hispanic however she doesn’t know that and espagnole can sorta mean someone who speaks spanish if you will.

And yeah, I used an ABBA song. Guilty pleasure of mine and -Fernando- just shouts romance with El Catorce for me, so voila! Enjoy!

***********************************************************************************

 Medikua Hermenigilde Hortense, or Doc Hortense as he is more commonly known, is Isabeau's nearest neighbour from 6 and 3/4's of a mile away. A kind 88 year old man of Basque and French descent and the best medical man this side of the Atlantic, he came over to ask Isabeau if she could perhaps spare him an onion or two for his supper. Then promptly found her hunched over a strange, injured Hispanic man almost a km into her 'woods'. Luckily, he rode the donkey cart in. Making the delicate job of transporting said caballero back to the house much more stress free.

 Isabeau sat on the floor of the cart, the ragged cotton quilt he keeps on his seat to fend off the cold now draped across her lap to cushion the patient's head. As his donkey walked the trail to her house, the doc turned his head towards the back. The stranger is still unconscious, and Isabeau gently brushes his hair from his forehead, with her right hand keeping steady pressure on his wounds.

 That punctured lung is worrying him. Not because he doesn't have the equipment to treat such an injury. Of course he has the correct equipment, he is, after all, ex-military and he knows people, for God's sake. But because it's a punctured lung caused by a machine gunshot, something the good doctor can spot a mile away. Those are never pretty or easy to treat and almost always end fatally. How this young pup has stayed alive for this long is beyond him! Must be his guardian angel putting in much needed overtime...

*******************************************************************************************

  Isabeau has officially gone into shock. Or a panic attack. In this situation there can't be much difference, one is just as useless as the other. She vaguely wonders if it's a result of falling out of the cherry tree or of finding a badly wounded, Hispanic man in her woods. Both, in all honesty.

She still cradles his head in her lap and is monitoring his breathing almost constantly.

'"Doc, his breathing is getting to be quite laboured. Can I do something?"

 Doc hears the heavy worry saturating her tone. And makes the donkey pick up his pace.

" Alright, try hanging his legs off the end of the cart, get his blood to rush to his feet instead of into his lungs. And settle his back fully on your lap to elevate his heart level even more. But do it slowly, girl. Slow and steady."

 He turned back his head many times as he ordered her to ensure she didn't accidently jostle the boy wrong. He had noticed her complexion become paler. "Breathe, Isabeau, breathe! I don't need the both of you passed out in a donkey cart on me. I'm far too old to deal with this all by myself."

 She wordlessly nodded. Her returning nausea didn't thank her for it. She subconsciously and minutely tightened her grip around the caballero's shoulders, consequentially pressing his scalp further against her stomach, mildly alleviating her need to lose her guts. She could feel his shallow breath in the crook of her left arm, quick, wheezing in and outs with a few of the inhales resulting in short choking fits. By now, both her arms and her naked thighs made her appear to be a human incarnation of a battlefield, stained scarlet with the lifeblood of young men, ( or of one young man, in this instance).

 His heartbeat, Isabeau could faintly feel thrumming in a rhythm too slow and unsteady for her comfort.

 She began to sing. Softly. For her comfort. For his comfort. In order to forget the pain in her head from the fall. In hopes to ground the wounded man in her arms. To gently guide him back to the land of the living through his sense of hearing. Isabeau knows from both her studies in university and her own brief dabblings in mild hypnosis and lucid subconsciousness that a person who has lost consciousness, either from sleep, or pain, or loss of blood, can still register, deep in the recesses of their mind, sounds and voices and even full conversations. But they especially hear singing.

 So, Isabeau sings.

 The melody is the first that pops up in her brain, a song from one of the numerous cd's she keeps in her 2001 Ford f-250 King Ranch. An ABBA Gold cd, if she recalls correctly. She can't remember all the words, so instead she hums when her mind is blank of lyrics.

Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I remember long ago another starry night like this.

 They hit a tiny bump in the road, not even enough to bother the steed pulling the cart, but more than enough to send a jolt of pain coursing through the caballero.

In the firelight, Fernando

 The pain noticeable in the wince upon his face, causing the girl to expect him to awaken soon. However much she dreads to see the pain etched on his brow, at least he would show more sign of life than now. She continues to hum.

You were singing to yourself and softly strumming your guitar!

 A thought briefly flitters across her mind. She wonders if he plays guitar? Or perhaps he sings? Maybe his voice is strong, loud and boisterous. Or is it smooth and deep? Or he dances? Perhaps none of these and he prefers to sits in the sidelines and enjoy the talents of others instead...

And I'm not afraid to say the roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry!

" Almost there cerisette, which door?" "Uh...the back garden door has no stairs and is the closest to my bedroom." "Oh, your bedroom huh!" "My bed's on the floor. Easier to care for him that way."

There was something in the air that night. The stars were bright, Fernando!

Her chorus much slower and more weary than the original.

They were shining down for you and me, for liberty, Fernando!

The doctor steers the cart off the driveway and towards the house.

Though we never thought that we could lose, there's no regret.

They round the last corner of the house, stopping a few feet away from the door, back end turned to the door.

 If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando!

******************************************************************************************* Three Hours Later....

Isabeau was exhausted.

 They'd been barely successful in carrying the still unknown man into her bed before he slightly awoke, only for him to begin having seizures while she went away in her pickup to Doc's house, grabbing the direly needed equipment for the procedure. Mercifully, he'd only had two minor fits before Doc stabilized him enough to treat the wounds.

Which had taken nearly three hours.

 She'd held his hand through most of it. But no one, including herself, could genuinely tell you if she'd done that for his comfort or her own...

She honestly can't recall much else.

 She stood in the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom, furiously but tiredly scrubbing at the blood stubbornly caught beneath her fingernails, staining her hands, sticking to the plush hairs on her arms, seeped deep into the fabric of the old yellow plaid shirt she'd swapped her lacy 70's top for...

 Her thoughts were disrupted by the good old doc gently placing his freshly washed hands upon her shoulder.

 " Get some rest cerisette. The sun may still be awake but you shouldn't be. The caballero is safe now...and so are you. " He sighs. " I am going home for a few hours. Call me if you need me. But get some rest."

 With that, Doc Hortense leaves the room. And yes, he did grab a proffered onion on the way.

*******************************************************************************************

 She carefully pads across her own bedroom, silent as a Trappist monk, to not disturb her espagnole, as she's begun to call him in her mind. She decides against simply grabbing her sleep clothes and changing somewhere else. Instead she stays standing before her dresser, in full view of son espagnole if he were to awaken. Which he doesn't. She swaps her soiled plaid shirt and jeans shorts for a comfortable pair of well-worn navy flannel pants and a soft long sleeved beige cotton undershirt. No underpinnings either. Girl likes her freedom too much to subject herself to that.

 Still a tad too wired up to fully rest, what with the time only being around 8:30 or so, Isabeau cautiously rummages through his minor belongings. Carelessly thrown to the side whilst his life was in danger, now she takes everything in her hands as if it's a precious object. She gingerly folds the white linen jacket, the torn beige button-up, the filthy knit cotton undershirt and the striped wool pants, putting them to the side to be washed later.

 Next come the gun holsters and the bullet belts, made of beautifully well crafted leather, the stitching somehow immaculate. Without a doubt handmade. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Isabeau gets the barest nudge that there is no way in hell this was made within the last 50 years. They seem worn: however, they can't be older than a three or four years.

 What intrigues her the most about the belts and the holsters, besides being nearly completely full, is the embroidered cross upon the pistol holster. No outlaw trusts that much in God, but no soldier dresses like this. Perhaps a revolutionary from Southern America way back...in...the...

 She quickly makes the connection between the guns and the age of the leather and the medallion of La Virgen, the fact that he was shot by a machine gun, mass manufactured and distributed to many governments by Americans in the time she's thinking of.. She may be wrong, but an inkling tells her that she probably isn't. She walks hurriedly back to the bed, sits gently cross-legged on the side where she will rest and softly stares at her sleeping espagnole. Several minutes, or maybe hours, pass and then, she whispers, to the unconscious man, to the dark, to the angels, to God, to herself.

"There's a Cristero in my bed!"

________________________________________________________________

If you would like to be tagged let me know!

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Sophia Jirafe

Seven of Sophia Jirafe’s fics are at Gossamer, but more of her X-Files stories are at AO3 (as sophiahelix). I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including Stones and Bones. She was active in the fandom during the show’s run and has never strayed far from fandom in general. She co-founded Glass Onion, a great multi-fandom mailing list that now has nearly 1,000 fics from 100 fandoms at AO3. Big thanks to Sophia Jirafe for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It did initially, but so many old shows are on streaming now and getting discovered by new people, it makes sense.

I did get a comment from someone who said my first story under this name, posted in early 2000 when I was a college freshman, was older than her by a couple of months, and THAT took me aback.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was my first fandom, discovered when I was 17 and searching for info about the show on the school library computer, and it really shaped my whole life! I met a lot of people I still know today (mostly in non-fannish venues like FB, though I do still have some connections in fandom), and learned a lot about writing and just life generally, since I was younger than most of fandom at the time.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I started off on a tiny forum at a website called Squirrel’s Nest, but I kept seeing people thanking Scullyfic in fic headers and eventually I was able to join the mailing list (which was capped to 500 members). Scullyfic was everything to me — I made friends, betas, discussed the show, learned about all kinds of things on Off-Topic Fridays, etc. A lot of those friends, I would email with or more often chat on AIM (individual or these sprawling group chats that would go on all day), and then at the end of 2001 we started migrating to Livejournal. I was getting into Buffy more by then, but it was still mostly the same crowd of people I knew from Scullyfic.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I feel like it started me on a whole life path really — finding that my deep obsession with fiction could be channeled like that and shared with other people, as well as deepening my writing. Online fandom has been a major part of my social life for over 20 years now, and I love the mix of getting excited about things with friends and also the creative outlet.

My corner of X-Files fandom in particular was just very calm and enjoyable for the most part, full of older professional women who were happy to be friends and give me advice about all kinds of things, and it really set the bar for me with my online interactions. Now I’m almost 40 and trying to be that person for my younger friends, as well as having no patience for toxicity and in-fighting in my fandom spaces.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

A combination of the creepy conspiracy angle and just adoring Scully. I remember how mysterious and fascinating the show seemed when I discovered it right before S5, and there was no way to find out more except to keep watching and hoping they explained. Scully was so smart and tough and beautiful and interesting, and as a teen I was just captivated by her (and the UST, though I didn’t care about Mulder as much).

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I ran across it a couple times early on but felt embarrassed by the concept, but then I read the first in Karen Rasch’s Words series and suddenly it clicked for me. After a while I started daydreaming my own conversations between them, very similar to what happens to me now when I’m getting into a new pairing, so after reading tons of recommended fic by big authors, I started writing my own (the 3-4 stories I posted in high school are all wiped from the internet now, though).

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Good memories, though because it was my senior year of high school and college, I know a lot of it is just tied to that time in my life, and also being in my very first fandom. I will rewatch episodes from time to time, but I basically never revisit former fandoms because they’re kind of like exes, even if I finished on a good note. I also think my taste in fic has changed (and there isn’t the same novelty of “characters I like getting together omg!”)

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

So many! None of them had quite the same combination of excellent central architecture (especially pre-AO3) and a really high level of discussion and friendliness without being enormous, but I’ve loved them all in their own ways. I’ve done fandom on LJ/DW, Tumblr, Discord, and now on Twitter, and I think I miss the mailing list days the most. You didn’t have to repeat yourself so much in multiple conversations, you weren’t character limited, and the discussion was all in one place, with personal stuff more confined to your side conversations. Discord is a little like that, but it moves too fast and there’s too much noise for my taste.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Heh, after X-Files I went through a whole phase of faves in the Scully vein — Buffy, Aeryn Sun, Kara Thrace, etc. Like many people I’ve shifted primarily into m/m in the last decade (Sherlock, YOI, and recently The Untamed have been my major fictional fandoms, along with a lot of sports RPF), but for non-fannish shows I’m always looking for awesome new female characters, like Elizabeth on the Americans, Peggy on Mad Men, Nadja on What We Do in the Shadows, etc. And I do LOVE Killing Eve and have written a little f/f over there.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I’ll rewatch favorite episodes occasionally, and I keep thinking about a full rewatch but it takes so much time! I never saw the second movie, and I didn’t finish the first of the new seasons because I was hating it, so it’s a little hard for me to think fannishly about them when I disliked basically everything after “Je Souhaite” so much (as far as I’m concerned the show ends there).

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

X-Files no, but yeah I’m still very active in fandoms.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I lost all my saved fic several computers ago, but I recall loving “Blue Christmas” by Plausible Deniability and ���Diamonds and Rust” by MustangSally (obviously everything she wrote was great).

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Looking at my X-Files fic, I can’t believe how short it is and how comparatively little of it there is (I have lost track of a few ficlets). It felt like such a big deal to finish anything back then! I think my favorite remains Alphabetum, which involved a tricky structure and 5 elements given by people as part of the Scullyfic Improv challenge, where you had a week to write a story around those elements.

My favorite of my recent fic in fictional fandoms is probably the GoT/YOI crossover novel I wrote a couple years ago, for a completely opposite experience to this (and proof you can grow as a writer with a lot of effort!)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

It’s honestly hard to imagine going back (like I said, I usually don’t), but I guess I could get inspired by something.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I certainly still write, and I do have to give credit to XF fandom and Scullyfic in particular for giving me the start I got, where I really wanted to be writing good fiction. The few things I wrote in high school were just me jamming out romantic cliches, but the people I was lucky to know in XF fandom showed me that “just” fanfic can still aspire to be high quality. I am a much, much better and more disciplined writer than I was back then, but I might never have started on this path without fandom friends encouraging me.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Usually just daydreaming about emotional dynamics between characters/people, but sometimes something specific in canon or real life (I write a lot of RPF) gets me going, or maybe something I read.

What's the story behind your pen name?

When I wrote for X-Files, I picked “Sophia Jirafe” combining my favorite first name with a fancy spelling for my favorite animal (I was 18! Don’t judge!) Over on Livejournal, my friend Jintian and I initially shared an account with the same name as our website, double_helix, and when she got her own account I changed to sophia_helix, which is now sophiahelix just about everywhere. A little clunky, but I like the continuity (and I do run across old friends who remember the name).

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

The friends I’ve known for a very long time know about it, but we have never talked about it in depth. My husband, who I met not long after getting into fandom, also knows about it, and he’s encouraging and also a writer so we talk all the time. I told my mom in college and she was pretty dismissive, so we haven’t talked about it since (but my younger sister knows and is cool about it).

When I was younger, it was something I shared readily (I bonded with a new friend in law school I saw looking at LJ), but now I don’t really bring it up with new acquaintances.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I just made a Carrd the other day with all my various fannish addresses (Twitter, locked fannish Twitter, AO3, Tumblr)

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Just that it really was a high quality fandom — so much excellent long casefic, so many cool down to earth people, just generally a great launching place for a young fan. The friendships I made with older people were really important to me, and it makes me sad to see a lot of younger people now getting upset about the idea of anyone over a certain age being in their fandom spaces. I hope someday fandom can get back to appreciating that people of all ages can be the fandom type, and that everyone brings something different to the community.

(Posted by Lilydale on December 1, 2020)

[akillysheel]

TENUOUS. ❜ ( 2 )

Summary:  Kuro asks the important questions before he and Cthugha decide on a starting point for their investigation. Warnings:  N/A. Notes:  N/A

    'I need to think about it.'

    Kuro slouched in his armchair, the events of the morning playing on loop in his head.  After Cthugha's untimely arrival, the Sheriff had taken it upon himself to take the rest of the afternoon off in an attempt to compartmentalise his thoughts.  He seldom ever took breaks, but when he'd emerged from his office as white as a sheet, his colleagues had ultimately pulled the plug on his hopes of remaining at work, advising insistently that he should go home.

    'Fine.  But you just remember, every minute you sit around ruminating about your stupid little life, that's another minute that this girl is missing, and that means it's another minute closer to doomsday too.'

    Could it be true?  Doomsday?  The end of the world?  It sounded to him like the paranoid ravings of a conspiracy nut...  yet he'd spoken with such calm authority, countered every one of the problems he'd had with a rebuttal of his own.  Every one of his questions had an answer;  everything he'd said about Raku  ( at least as far as his limited understanding of Gods was concerned ) was true.

    Mia Vanton's case sat on his lap.  It was a thin file, one that spared details for there hadn't been many to uncover, but in that moment it felt heavy.  Cumbersome.  As if he'd been shackled to the floorboards.

    This thing's been shut since 2001.

    One calloused thumb traced over its front, teasing the corner away from the papers inside.  He really didn't know whether he wanted to look at it or not.  It felt oddly like picking at a scab wound, baring himself to old pain that needn't be revisited.  Did he have it in him to feel as hopeless as he did twenty years ago?

    He grunted as a headache set in. It had steadily been growing for the past two hours, fostered in his brain like a bad habit.

    Is there any point in opening this up again?  Surely if she was to be found, she'd have been found by now.  This year marks the twentieth anniversary of her disappearance.  In two weeks, in fact.

    Was that relevant?  He couldn't help but consider it.  As much as he wanted to push Cthugha's prophecy aside as garbage, the fact was that he was impressed  -  and a little worried.  He knew things that nobody could have known, and deep down he knew that his colleagues wouldn't sell some random kid information.  Huron's task force was known for being small, humble and honest, and it's good service had been a near constant hallmark for the district's deep sense of peace.  There had never been a recorded incidence of internal corruption--  not even with other, less composed Sheriffs in the front seat.

    How else could he have known about Olivia?  About Raku, even.

    The Sheriff let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes, knowing already what he had to do.

    “I’ve decided t’help y’.”

    “Thank.  God.”   The statement trembled with sarcastic frustration, Cthugha’s cobalt eyes all but grey on account of the storm that had entered them.  He sat in Kuro’s chair, his feet propped up on his desk.  The rubix cube--  the one that had previously been half-completed--  sat in his hands, its coloured faces now perfectly arranged.   “While you were busy jerking off to the end of all life in this realm, I was busy compiling resources that might help us stop it.”   He paused to reach inside of his jacket, retrieving a file of his own, before he dropped it unceremoniously on the desk.   “You’re welcome.”

    “Where were y’keepin’ that…?”

    “Just look at it.”

    Kuro hesitated briefly before dragging the file closer, opening it up to find himself staring at a myriad of newspaper clippings, interview transcripts and photographs.  It was makeshift work, by no means tidy, but the sheer wealth of information was staggering to him.  Even so, as he skimmed over them briefly, he realised that there was nothing there that he didn’t already know.

    Of course there isn’t.  Why would there be?

    I don’t know.  Maybe I assumed he was an agent of God or something.

    “Aside from all that,”   Cthugha started, rising from his commandeered seat.  In what felt like a flash, he’d moved from the desk to the far corner of the room, grabbing a hold of a whiteboard on wheels before reappearing where he had been.  Kuro blinked hard.   “We can rule out all the places you already searched in your previous hunt for her.”   Feverishly, the rifter began to fill the board with haphazard notes.   “That means you don’t have to trawl through Whit’s a second time, nor do you need to bother checking their home or questioning her papa.  He came up clean, remember?”

    “Yeah…  he was so dedicated t’findin’ his daughter that he all but singlehandedly led the search party campaign despite us tellin’ him that it was dangerous.  Had t’bust him outta a few compromisin’ positions fer his efforts...”

    “Exactly.  Also means that the tunnels are a bust too, so you don’t have to waste time trawling through the underground like a family of sewer rats.  Wherever she is, she’s somewhere ya didn’t think to comb through.”   He paused when he found his whiteboard pen beginning to run dry.   “Damn it--”   Much like before, he flickered away, a brief rummaging sound filling the quiet office before he reappeared before the board.   “Okay, so--  here’re all the places you don’t gotta worry about that I can think of off the top of my head.  There’s…  what?  Why’re ya staring at me like that?”

    “How’re y’doin’ that?”

    “You can write too, Kuro.”

    “I mean the…  disappearin’-’n’-reappearin’ thing.  Obviously.”

    “Oh, that.  Yeah, I guess that makes more sense…”   It was the closest to sheepish that he’d seen Cthugha thus far;  a break from his smug attitude was certainly refreshing.   “It’s just a teleportation shtick.  Think of it like…  instead of macro-leaps, I’m performing micro-hops in time.”

     "Huh,"   said Kuro, deciding not to question it.

     In truth, the more they talked about the Vanton case, the more he began to recall.  Kuro seldom ever forgot a victim - even though he'd been the Sheriff of Huron for over three centuries, and a police officer for even longer than that - but he wouldn't say that the details were as long-lasting.  There were simply too many nuances in too many cases--  too much information for him to store everything tightly away.  His brief read over the case file before he'd come back to the office that following morning hadn't helped much either, if only because there hadn't been much for him to garner in the first place.

    "I do have a question though,"   Kuro spoke up as he handed Cthugha a cup of coffee.  He wasn't sure whether he was trying to placate or subdue him.   "... or a couple."

    "Are they constructive?"

    "Maybe.  I mean--  y'mentioned parallel timelines 'n' shit.  Couldn't y'just…  hop into one where I found her 'n' tell me where she is?"

    "Parallel timelines are born out of choices, dummy.  Unless you're admitting that you purposefully didn't find her, that isn't gonna help at all."   A swig of his drink was taken, the rich flavour seeming to soothe his annoyance somewhat.   "Nah.  You're thinking of alternate timelines."

    "Then what about that?"

    "We're not really supposed to dip into those if we can help it.  Definitely a last resort sort of deal.  It creates the possibility for people to run into themselves;  fractures the separation between realities.  Doppelganger action is a one-way ticket to hell for the Universe.  Also the fact that, like parallel timelines, there are MULTITUDES of alternate timelines where everything's the same except one little thing, meaning it'd take a shit-ton of time to comb through 'em all--  most likely more time than we’ve got.  There're several versions of you out there, Kuro, but you're this one.  You should focus on that."

     "This's all real confusin’…"   the Sheriff mumbled, deflating a little.  He was so sure he'd had a good idea under his belt, but hell, what did he really know about the way that reality worked?

    "Mm.  Anything else?"   Cthugha asked tersely, eager to move on.

    "Just one more thing,"   Kuro affirmed, shifting in his place for a moment before deciding that brevity was more favourable than kindness.   "... how does this girl stayin' missin' end the world?  People go missin' all the time.  Some come home, some're found dead.  Some’re never found, yet the world keeps on spinnin’.  's just a cruel fact’a life."

    For the first time since their meeting, Cthugha fell silent.  A harrowing emptiness entered his eyes as he thought about the bleak future that awaited them if they did nothing.  A hazy field of fire, the once clean air ashen and thick.  The destruction spread like cancer, first exploding in Huron before it gradually spread outward.  What was perhaps even more frightening was that the one responsible for it seemed impervious to the herculean effort required to topple a district;  by the time he was done with Huron, he was already looking for a bigger, more developed fish to fry.

    It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the Universe in ruins by far, and he doubted it’d be the last.

    That didn’t mean he was accustomed to seeing it though.

    “Well,”   he said softly, whiteboard pen twirled absentmindedly in between his fingers.   “... let’s just say, grief does things to people.  Do you have any clue who Mia’s father is?”

    Slowly, Kuro squinted.    “Aside from knowin’ his name ‘n’ his daughter’s case?  No.  Should I?”

    “No.  That’s exactly why ya should be worried:  he’s got nothing left to lose.  Do you think he’s going to care about hurting anyone when he’s hurting this much himself?  He’s got no children to provide for;  no public image to protect.  When he loses his mind, he does it for real, and damned’re the consequences, get it?”

    “Got it…”   Kuro muttered.  He knew all too well about people like Mr.Vanton.  While an anonymous existence was ultimately a peaceful one, when crime was brought into the mix, it became a dangerous shield.  Who suspected the nobody?  Nobody, that’s who.   “Then we gotta get movin’.”

    “I have to ask,”   Cthugha started as he stepped towards the chair he’d been sprawled in, reaching for his jacket and shrugging it on.  Now that he had a little time to look over him properly, Kuro noted its strange cyan decals and the symbol that he’d never seen before adorning the right side;  two parallel lines with a small triangle beneath the centre point of the bottom one.  It looked vaguely like a seesaw with two slats on top instead of one.  "What made you change your mind?"

    “Well, I guess I never got over the fact that I couldn’t solve it.  D’y’have any idea how hard it is t’look a parent in the eye ‘n’ tell ‘em that the search fer their child is over?  There was nothin’ else I could do, but I still felt guilty.  I figure, even if yer full’a shit ‘n’ this really is some heartless stunt all fer yer own amusement, I can at least make sure that there really was nothin’ else I could’a done fer the Vantons.”

    The rifter hummed softly as he adjusted his tie.   “Heh.  Ya really are a good person.”

    “Y’had doubt?”

    “Who doesn’t?  Much easier to expose a bad person who’s pretending to be good than to find an actual good person these days.  I guess it’s just an unfortunate byproduct of evolution.”

    “Yer wrong,”   Kuro said firmly, pulling his black coat closed.  The gun at his hip was touched briefly before he pocketed his hand, satisfied that he had everything he needed.   “There’re a lot more good people in the world than bad.  ’s just that the bad leave behind their messes t’clean up.”

    “Well, whatever the truth is, it’s clear we’re dealing with a bad person here, huh?  So, got any bright ideas?”

    Already were the gears in his head turning.  With the compiled notes to aid him, he knew of the place that he wanted to start with.  It may have been a dead end--  wishful thinking more than anything--  but he wouldn’t be able to progress until he knew he’d upturned every stone on this property.   “We should head t’the Valerie Vineyard first.”

[unfrgivble-archive]

-----   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊'𝐒   𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐈𝐒   𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑   𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍   𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐇𝐄'𝐒   𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃   𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄.   he   sits,   straight-backed   and   proud   across   from   lord   grantham,   awaiting   an   answer.   he   thinks   he   has   made   a   fairly   convincing   argument   but   he   fears   that   mary   has   said   too   much.   what   if   this   was   all   for   nothing   ?? “   our   sybil   always   seems   very   happy   to   be   around   you,   “   lord   grantham   notes.    “   then   the   feeling   is   mutual,   my   lord.   she   is   an   extraordinary   young   woman.   you   have   raised   her   quite   well.   “ “   indeed,   she   very   much   takes   after   her   mother.   “   they   fall   into   a   moment   of   silence.   one   that   makes   lucius   slightly   nervous.   they   have   been   discussing   and   borderline   negotiating   for   what   seems   like   forever   (   though,   it   has   only   been   about   an   hour.   )   “   i   give   you   my   blessing.   i   know   that   some   members   of   this   family   will   have   a   differing   opinion,   but   i   see   nothing   that   concerns   me.   i   trust   sybil’s   judgment   when   it   comes   to   her   company.   “ lucius   lets   out   a   breath   that   he   has   been   holding   in   since   the   beginning.   “   thank   you,   my   lord.   “

strolling   through   downton’s   garden   has   always   been   quite   a   comfort.   they   remind   him   of   his   own   garden   back   at   malfoy   manor,   though   he   must   admit   that   downton’s   gardens   are   much   newer.   his   own   were   designed   and   planted   back   when   the   manor   was   originally   erected   several   hundred   years   ago.   many   of   the   blossoms   have   survived   the   years   with   charms   that   have   helped   them   survive   and   good   nurturing   from   the   gardeners.   they   talk   idly   as   they   normally   do.   some   casual   debate   here   and   there,   challenging   each   other’s   point   of   view   in   a   way   that   has   expanded   their   minds.   some   gossip   is   sprinkled   in   and   then,   deeper   conversations.   lucius   is   still   trying   to   process   the   fact   that   he   showed   her   all   of   his   memories.   from   the   minute   he   was   birthed,   to   the   heartbreak   he   felt   when   andromeda   left   him   for   ted   tonks,   receiving   the   mark,   being   thrown   in   azkaban,   tortured   by   the   dark   lord   for   his   failures,   his   wife   leaving,   everything.   everything   that   could   possibly   explain   why   lucius   is   the   way   he   is.   why   lucius   thinks   the   way   he   does.   and   she   listens.   she   always   does. they   find   the   pillared   folly,   and   decide   that   this   is   the   perfect   place   to   rest.   lucius   as   well   decides   that   this   is   the   perfect   place   to   propose.   “   there   is   something   else   i   was   hoping   to   discuss,   “   lucius   informs   hers.   “   it   begins   with   a   question   and   it   will   be   the   most   important   question   i   ever   ask   you.   “ he   reaches   into   his   muggle   jacket   pocket,   pulling   out   a   small   green   velvet   box.   he   isn’t   sure   how   muggles   do   these   sorts   of   things,   but   as   far   as   he   can   recall,   they   kneel   on   the   ground   which   is   exactly   what   he   does.   “   sybil,   there   are   no   words   i   can   possibly   say   to   express   the   way   i   feel   for   you.   my   love,   respect,   and   admiration   for   you   is   immeasurable.   i   cannot   picture   a   life   without   you   by   my   side,   which   is   why   i   would   like   to   spend   the   rest   of   my   days   with   you.   will   you   do   me   the   immense   honor   of   be   -   “ lucius’s   eyes   just   so   happened   to   glance   away   for   a   second,   brows   narrowing   as   he   sees   a   group   of   robed   men   rushing   across   the   field   towards   them.   he   notices   wands   in   their   hands. lucius   stands   quickly,   pushing   sybil   behind   him,   wand   drawn.   “   lucius   malfoy   !!   “   he   hears   a   man   shouting.   lucius   raises   his   wand,   ready   to   cast   any   spell   necessary.   “   lucius   malfoy   !!   “ the   group   of   wizards   approach   them,   cautious   as   they   seem   lucius’s   wand   raised   -   after   all,   lucius   was   once   considered   a   very   dark   and   dangerous   wizard.   “   by   the   order   of   the   ministry   of   magic,   you   are   hereby   barred   from   use   of   any   and   all   timeturners.   you   will   surrender   your   timeturner   to   me   once   all   of   the   muggles   are   obliviated   and   you   are   returned   to   the   year   2001.   “ lucius   does   not   drop   his   wand.   “   now,   hear   me,   “   he   growls.   “   i   am   hurting   no   one.   i   am   staying   here   -   “ “   you   have   changed   history   far   too   much   already.   there   can   be   rippling   consequences.   you   don’t   want   another   trip   to   azkaban,   do   you   ??   just   think   how   devastated   your   son   would   be   -   “ lucius   should   hex   him   just �� for   mentioning   draco,   but   instead,   his   attention   goes   on   sybil.   “   they   intend   to   erase   your   memories   -   “ the   wizard   speaks   up.   “   don’t   fret,   miss.   it   is   painless.   your   family   has   already   been   done.   “

lucius   grabs   sybil’s   arm,   wanting   her   to   keep   her   focus   on   him.   “   run   as   fast   and   as   far   as   you   can.   i’ll   keep   them   busy.   “

surprise starter for @ircnwrought​

[xofaddiction]

                            𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖜 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖘                              𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖆 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑 𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉.                                𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖎𝖒𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋                                          𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖆𝖜 𝖎𝖘 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖍.                                         𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑                                              𝖘𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙:                                            "𝖎𝖋 𝖎 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖐𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚,                                          𝖎𝖋 𝖎 𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓."                                           𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖗.

full name:  cyrus rousseau nicknames: cy, lieutenant, ruoss, etc. age:  36 date of birth:  jun. 11 zodiac: gemini gender:  male pronouns: he/him sexuality:  bisexual

physical

hair color: dark brown eye color: hazel height: 6′1″ weight: 180 lbs

personality

morality:  lawful evil positive traits: charming, inquisitive, intelligent, attentive, strong-willed negative traits: restless, easily bored, moody, fickle, short-tempered, job: manager of rousseau’s  skills: adaptable, strong, combat trained, artillery trained.

family

parents: valentina and louis rousseau. siblings: blake and audrey rousseau. niece: aria rousseau.

backstory and details - ＴＲＩＧＧＥＲ     ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ :                                       war, murder, violence

                                       ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴    ✴   ✴   ✴    

first born to louis rousseau and his young, model wife valentina, cyrus was another strapping heir to a line indebted to the o’sheas, albeit far behind others. a strong boy with a sturdy will and an even stronger mind, cyrus was a beloved child, doted on by his mother for his looks and encouraged by his father to be the best he could be in every aspect of his life as the second man in the rousseau family.

an o’shea general, their father wasn’t shy about bringing his children along when it was time to set the wrong things right. cyrus could recall on many occasions where his father returned to their car, knuckles bloody, stoic and firm with a word of advice and warning on what to look for in weaker men as he grew older.

always taught that nothing could hurt him unless he gave it license to, cyrus was rambunctious and foolhardy, always flooded with a charm and wit. paired with his keen instinct for sparring and ways of outsmarting those his senior, he had a knack for mischief from the start.

fear is a fickle thing in the eyes of a walsh general’s son; ever changing, always political and fluctuating in immediacy and relevancy. still, there was one fear that remained constant; losing those he loved.

more often than not it was a distant, almost irrelevant fear; one that had no place among conscious thought. at least until he gained two younger siblings, well into his life. after they came, he felt a need to step up and be there for them in a different way than parents ever could. he wanted to be the trusted confidant, the one they came to for help before they went to their parents; the reliable brother that loved them fiercely and with everything he had in him. cyrus cared for them beyond all others; no one matters to him half as much as they do.

moving through years in elementary and middle school, cyrus was popular, charming, well known and well liked, but could tip attitude at the drop of the hat. the moment he was provoked, his wrath came out and found the object of his rage. that indignation, the anger within him, and the willingness to hit first and worry later landed him in and out of detention and even one instance of juvenile arrest.

his mother, more often than not, let the discipline thereafter be dealt with by his father. she loved him, he knew, she just wasn’t the most tolerant woman of the inner workings of a child’s mind, especially one as privileged as her son was.

it seemed worthwhile to louis to enroll young cyrus into boxing classes; he needed discipline and anger management, maybe even to get his ass knocked to the ground every now and again to keep him humble. not only did his fortunes improve, but so did his ability to work past his issues with rage.

a stand out feature of his youth was taking note of his mother’s descent from being a mother with him, to a friend with his brother, and all but an acquaintance with his younger sister. he hated how passive she became, how lacking she was in her attitudes toward her children.

once in training, his studies soared, both academically and in boxing. high school couldn’t have been easier. he was popular as ever, a shining example of what one should be; respectful, protective, intelligent, and above all; engaging. everyone seemed to want him as a friend or a fuck, and cyrus saw nothing wrong with it.

on occasion, there were times he’d take it too far in the boxing ring, move too fiercely and endanger others training around him. cyrus found it far too easy to fight dirty. He liked the snap of bone beneath his knuckles, or the squelch of sweat as a body hit the octagon beneath him.  chastised for his behavior and willingness to act out of line, cyrus knew the behavior had to cease. collecting outlets for his anger, he took the advice of his coach and started to write.

he wasn’t good at it, or particularly knowledgeable in the rules of prose, but writing was his therapy. it was the only sympathy he afforded himself to have, and soon the bookshelves in his bedrooms were heavily lined with journals filled cover to cover with simple-minded musings, thoughts, and reports of the days where he could barely tell sunrise from bedtime. 

after high school graduation, cyrus decided he’d go the way of the navy. he wanted to make his parents and siblings proud; a noble son that learned the noble art of war. leaving them all behind would hurt, but it would be worth it in the long run. who better to protect his family than a man with all the skills of a trained, combat killing machine?

cyrus signed up when he was 18 and shipped off to basic not long after. nothing shaped his fears for the future quite like the fall of the world trade center in 2001. watching live from a tv in the cafeteria in his senior year of high school; he could recall the tension in the air; everyone in that room knew the wars they spent so much time learning about were now outside their very windows.

he was too tired, he had lived through and seen so much, and despite it all he looked forward to seeing his sister. when he was on his first tour overseas, he took a spare moment to reflect on his family and how much he really missed them. finally, he had time to call home and was soon after met with the news that their mother left. he hadn’t felt a true rage like that in all the months he’d been at war; his efforts were usually better spent. 

after the start of the iraq war, cyrus was sent into active combat and shipped overseas to afghanistan. he was a part of two tours, the latter of which was cut short by the detonation of an ied. his left leg was shattered and though they were able to salvage the limb, it wasn’t without extensive surgery and the implantation of a steel rod. cyrus received a purple heart for his action in the service and was honorably discharged and left to return home as a decorated veteran.

by the time he returned to chicago, he had seen too much on his tours, fought and killed and his rage was tripled tenfold. the brothers and sisters he cherished in the service had been lost, killed, or moved on. cyrus felt as if part of him was left out there, far from where he was in chicago.

when he had gone off to war, he worried for his siblings. upon his return, they worried for him; many years his juniors, they couldn’t have been more than twelve and ten respectively. the first fourth of july home was a noted one in the rousseau family. at the first thundering echo of a firework detonating in the sky, cyrus ran and tackled his siblings to the ground and covered their heads. It was a snap instinct, one that came with the echo of bombs overhead.

soon after, he was encouraged to see a therapist through the local va. diagnosed with ptsd as many veterans are, the therapist had an almost sickeningly positive outlook on cyrus’s prognosis. it seemed he was one of the few she believed in to pull himself out of the binds of a mental illness.

after a few sessions, his therapist encouraged him to get a service animal. after signing up and getting his certifications for a service animal taken care of, he adopted a rottweiler puppy. he named him LOOMIS.

however, there is no one can fake a fantasy like the son of a model. outwardly, cyrus was still charming, still personable, and most of all: still lethal. writing did precious little to staunch his emotions, but fighting did. though his training was limited compared to what it had been when he was a kid, he rejoined the local boxing gym and threw himself into the ring. the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the echoes that stirred his memories of war, the numbing catharsis that came after the bell rang all felt like coming home. it seemed the more violent the outburst, the more he felt at home.

there was nothing out of the realm of possibility for cyrus and his tastes; sleeping around, drinking, partying, fighting, living the reckless life of a daredevil whenever given the chance. joining the o’sheas after his father was a move that made sense. every risky behavior was lidocaine on a burn, a cool soothing menthol that eased the scald of emotions he’d rather not feel. binge after binge, everything started to blur together- no obligation, no feeling, nothing but the bed of a woman who would have him.

when he carried out what was asked of him as an initiation, he did so quickly, cleanly, and concisely. after all he’d seen on the plane of war, the carnage came as second nature. it made sense to do it for the sake of the family he claimed.

like all fears, his soon became realized. their father disappeared. though cyrus searched, he quickly lost hope they would ever find their father alive. he had seen enough in the service to know that if someone was gone for long enough, the’d never come back. with this effectuation of his father’s fate in mind, it became all too apparent to cyrus that everything changed.

cyrus couldn’t afford to be a mess in front of his siblings or in front of the walsh’s. he was the theoretical head of the rousseau’s. he would be their protector, and do everything in his power to ensure their safety and happiness. it felt as though everything fell to him; he could not be anything less than the man his father.

[madtia]

Title Drops from Roman Holiday on Vimeo.

Fresh new month, fresh new montage. Been a while folks. I've gathered many more followers. A big thanks to all you people. Shouldn't be this long a wait for the next montage. I have quite a few going on and this was the one I deemed finished first.

I'm not the first guy to tackle a collection of films where a character says the title of the film. We've had a bunch of recent movies do it though so I figured I'd give the most up to date and comprehensive version I can. All told there are a 150 examples.

For this particular montage it may seem redundant, but here are the titles of the films featured:

00:01 - Suicide Squad (2016) 00:09 - Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) 00:11 - 50/50 (2011) 00:12 - Angels In The Outfield (1994) 00:13 - From Dusk Til Dawn (1996) 00:14 - Bend It Like Beckham (2002) 00:16 - Earth Girls Are Easy (1988) 00:17 - Peggy Sue Got Married (1986) 00:18 - Big (1988) 00:19 - Double Jeopardy (1999) 00:20 - Double Indemnity (1944) 00:22 - Bride Of Frankenstein (1935) 00:24 - The Third Man (1949) 00:25 - Witness For The Prosecution (1957) 00:27 - A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) 00:28 - Ace In The Hole (1951) 00:29 - On The Waterfront (1954) 00:30 - Some Like It Hot (1959) 00:31 - To Kill A Mockingbird (1962) 00:33 - Somebody Up There Likes Me (1956) 00:35 - The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) 00:36 - Vertigo (1958) 00:37 - Rear Window (1954) 00:38 - Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958) 00:41 - Me And You And Everyone We Know (2005) 00:46 - Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) 00:47 - The Right Stuff (1983) 00:49 - Tough Guys Don't Dance (1987) 00:50 - Point Break (1991) 00:52 - Vanilla Sky (2001) 00:54 - Full Metal Jacket (1987) 00:58 - Good Morning, Vietnam (1987) 01:02 - The Englishman Who Went Up A Hill But Came Down A Mountain (1995) 01:05 - Clear And Present Danger (1994) 01:06 - A Bridge Too Far (1977) 01:08 - I Love You, Man (2009) 01:10 - I Love You, Beth Cooper (2009) 01:12 - I Love You Philip Morris (2009) 01:14 - Eight Legged Freaks (2002) 01:16 - Wild At Heart (1990) 01:18 - Fried Green Tomatoes (1991) 01:20 - Guardians Of The Galaxy (2014) 01:22 - Death Proof (2007) 01:24 - This Is Spinal Tap (1984) 01:25 - Kingdom Of Heaven (2005) 01:27 - Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (1967) 01:29 - Any Given Sunday (1999) 01:30 - Are We There Yet? (2005) 01:32 - Dude, Where's My Car? (2000) 01:33 - I Know Who Killed Me (2007) 01:34 - Demolition Man (1993) 01:35 - Total Recall (1990) 01:37 - Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here (1969) 01:40 - What About Bob? (1991) 01:42 - We Bought A Zoo (2011) 01:44 - Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (1992) 01:47 - First Blood (1982) 01:48 - Do The Right Thing (1989) 01:49 - Free Willy (1993) 01:50 - Layer Cake (2004) 01:51 - Snatch (2000) 01:52 - The Italian Job (2003) 01:53 - Pain & Gain (2013) 01:54 - Lethal Weapon (1987) 01:55 - The Big Lebowski (1998) 01:57 - Face/Off (1997) 02:01 - Sleepless In Seattle (1993) 02:02 - Home Alone (1990) 02:03 - Evil Under The Sun (1982) 02:05 - A Perfect World (1993) 02:06 - Above The Law (1988) 02:07 - You Only Live Twice (1967) 02:08 - For Your Eyes Only (1981) 02:10 - A View To A Kill (1985) 02:12 - The Living Daylights (1987) 02:13 - License To Kill (1989) 02:14 - The World Is Not Enough (1999) 02:15 - Die Another Day (2002) 02:17 - Our Idiot Brother (2011) 02:18 - Clueless (1995) 02:19 - The Hard Way (1991) 02:20 - She's All That (1999) 02:21 - Failure To Launch (2006) 02:22 - Chinatown (1974) 02:23 - As Good As It Gets (1997) 02:24 - Premium Rush (2012) 02:26 - Back To The Future (1985) 02:27 - The Godfather (1972) 02:28 - The Exorcist (1973) 02:29 - The Curse Of The Mummy's Tomb (1964) 02:31 - Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia (1974) 02:33 - The Man Who Shook The Hand Of Vincente Fernandez (2012) 02:36 - The Eagle Has Landed (1976) 02:38 - Law Abiding Citizen (2009) 02:40 - Salmon Fishing In The Yemen (2011) 02:41 - Deep Blue Sea (1999) 02:43 - Inherent Vice (2014) 02:45 - Sound Of My Voice (2011) 02:47 - I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell (2009) 02:48 - Hobo With A Shotgun (2011) 02:52 - That Was Then... This Is Now (1985) 02:55 - They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969) 02:58 - My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done? (2009) 03:01 - Truly Madly Deeply (1990) 03:02 - Paper Towns (2015) 03:03 - Taxi Driver (1976) 03:04 - Raging Bull (1980) 03:05 - The Wolf Of Wall Street (2013) 03:07 - All That Jazz (1979) 03:09 - Definitely, Maybe (2008) 03:11 - Trouble With The Curve (2012) 03:12 - Maximum Overdrive (1986) 03:13 - Vertical Limit (2000) 03:14 - Sudden Death (1995) 03:15 - Con Air (1997) 03:16 - Rush Hour (1998) 03:17 - Training Day (2001) 03:18 - Cashback (2006) 03:20 - Unthinkable (2010) 03:21 - Superman Returns (2006)

Remaining titles shall be listed in the comments below.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the films used in this compilation. I mean I have some of them on DVD but I don't have the copyrights for them so don't sue me.

[gentleman-jerry]

"Just a Boomer Rambling" "When I survey the state of our nation today and see everything that has transpired just since the year 2001, I am absolutely shocked at what is happening. Should I be? No... If I admit, I like many of my countrymen, I have been busy raising families, working in our career fields, churches, dealing with life in general – not paying attention to our local, state or federal government or their policies as I should have. Don't get me wrong. I have always voted for those whose values were at least close to my Christian beliefs as possible. It really wasn't until 9-11-01 that I really began to notice things weren't as they were advertised to be. Something fishy about the "Weapons of Mass Destruction" lie. Just an excuse to go to war. I had come to listen to a young man named Alex Jones who had exposed many to the ruling elites rituals at Bilderberg meetings. I recall also having a fresh memory of watching the Matrix movie. Hmm...Things in my reality were shifting. I look back now...I should have learned from history...it always repeats itself. Life goes in circles from generation to generation...After WWll our educational system was taken over by liberal communist John Dewey under Truman. Later both Eisenhower & Kennedy warned of the military industrial complex influencing, taking over America. They were right. It happened. Probably beginning with the Deep State taking out JFK. Each successive US President was placed in office with the blessing of the CIA. - We now come to Donald Trump. I originally didn't like him. I thought him a showman with a big mouth and little in the way of tact. I voted for Ted Cruz in the primary and he lost to Trump. I would never have voted for Hillary Clinton or any Democrat just based on their non biblical views on the sanctity of life. As well as myriad character and policy issues. Since 2016 our world...especially here in the USA has gone completely insane. Gender bulls**t. PC madness.  Open borders. Being a Nationalist is somehow bad...  Non existent racism. Hey, it exists in all of humanity...but not at the extent these morons claim. White men are bad...Give me a break...Social engineering at it's Satanic finest. Our educational system since Dewey has turned several generations of liberal thinking, screwed up people out into our society. The younger people don't know history and are ripe for repeating it. There are many in our midst who think Socialism is a good thing...It always leads to Communism...They seem fine with that...The Democrat Party is now completely owned - lock, stock & barrel by communist China. Oh, I'm a conspiracy theorist right? Check your facts... Most liberals don't look at real data or facts...they thrive on emotion alone...Emotional gas is all they have. Not gonna get you very far. Most tend to be narcissists – not pleasant folks in my experience. Condescending in attitude...they are really some of the most ignorant people. The Republican establishment is nearly as corrupt...Bush both of them, were awful in what they did in office. Needless war and bloodshed. The NEOCONS & RINOS are every bit as sold out as the Democrats. They care nothing for the people they supposedly serve. Getting back to the CIA...They, along with their unholy alliance with the CHICOMS own the mainstream media in the USA. Joseph Goebbels himself would be astounded how effective they are in spinning every story into what they want it to be. We don't get news on television in our country...we get a narrative put together for you're internal programming...That is why the censorship is going on with Big Tech. They fear TRUTH. It exposes them for what they are...Getting back to Donald Trump. I was wrong about him. Completely. Looking back since he has left office. I now see what God was doing with this man. In spite of being a proud man when speaking....He is really humble in many ways. Jesus said you KNOW a man by his fruits. Trump's policies have been a boon to our economy & jobs markets. Standing with Israel...the only truly free society in the Middle East. And moving the US embassy to Jerusalem was a bold move. Trying to bring peace to the table between hostile nations. Getting us out of the Obama Iran deal...brilliant. A friend and defender biblically to the unborn, by defunding Planned Butcherhood as well as child sex trafficking. Standing with persecuted Christians worldwide. The list of his accomplishments is impressive. The man had no help from many in his own party – and NONE from the Democrats...One sham investigation after another. Still trying to impeach a man after he left office...THEY are the problem. Watching the State courts refuse evidence of voter fraud, the Supreme court refusing to hear facts...The Senate...VP Mike Pence refusing to do what was right & turn the electoral votes back to the states to ratify...I watch a puppet president wanna be do everything he can to satisfy his CHICOM benefactors. Pathetic state of the union. Where will this lead? The breakup of the union? civil war? I do not see any compromise between the two sides in this country. The political parties without Trump are virtually identical...Upwards of 75 million voted for Trump...They will not tolerate this nonsensical criminality for much longer. Things are going to get biblical real soon.

Jerry Carrick

[aion-rsa]

Rome: The Long Road of the Original HBO Epic

https://ift.tt/36frbPD

It was the biggest show ever produced when it premiered on HBO. Filming in exotic international locations and on sets that went on for blocks, it was an epic spectacle that many whispered couldn’t be done on television. Not with its hundreds of extras in lavish costumes, and not with its cast of more than a dozen major characters. Yet HBO gambled big with a budget that exceeded $100 million on its first season.

These details might be mistaken by many as the genesis of Game of Thrones. But before HBO’s song of ice and fire, this was also the origin of the first actual modern TV epic. It was the story of Rome.

In its debut, Rome was even more gargantuan in scale and opulent in design than Thrones’ first few years. Filmed at the legendary facilities of Cinecittà Studios in the actual Rome, HBO and showrunner Bruno Heller oversaw a vast recreation of antiquity during the life and times of Julius Caesar. From the austere grandeur of the pre-imperial Roman Forum to the eventual seediness of the gangs on the Aventine Hill, the final days of the Roman republic were reimagined in sweaty, shocking, and spectacularly expensive detail.

“We used the most modern scholarship, which suggests that all the sculptures were painted,” Heller says over Zoom as we reminisce about Rome and its Cinecittà extravagance 15 years after the series’ 2005 premiere. Every morning Heller would  be up at 4am, arriving early on set and getting lost in the art direction’s colors. “Walking out there at dawn into the Forum and seeing this world created, it was just magical. It gives me goosebumps now thinking about it, seeing a hundred [Gaul] tribesmen on horseback with great furry helmets charging down a hillside yelling, that sort of thing. No one makes things like that anymore. Even something like Game of Thrones would use CGI for the kind of things that we were doing for real.”

Actor Kevin McKidd, who played one half of Rome’s soul, the honorable to a fault Lucius Vorenus, expresses similar awe when he thinks back at what they accomplished.

“I mean listen, none of these budgets were small, but I think Game of Thrones ended up being smaller than ours,” McKidd correctly points out. Whereas Rome was budgeted at $100 million when it premiered, Game of Thrones debuted with a more reasonable starting price tag of $60 million. Says McKidd, “Ours, it was the first time anybody had tried this, so we just had to spend the money. And I think they figured out, it seems, ways to do it smarter or for less… because our show came out of the gate just huge and bawdy and big, and unapologetic.”

Heller is even more succinct in describing Rome’s making.

“Most films, and even TV, is planning for battle,” Heller says. “Planning for a big TV series like [Rome] is like planning for war, for a campaign. It’s invading Russia.” He pauses, “You have to think about the retreat, as well.”

This was Rome’s war: brief, bloody, and beautiful.

‘Very Unlikely to Be Made’

When HBO first hired Heller to take a crack at a Rome treatment, he didn’t think for a minute it would get made. In the early 2000s, HBO was a different place than it is now. The Sopranos and Sex and the City of course turned the premium cable network into the leader of the prestige cable revolution—or harbinger of peak TV as it would later be called—and the network had its eye on bigger and more dazzling projects. In 2001 HBO even released the most expensive miniseries ever up to that point with Band of Brothers. But that World War II-set series also had the names Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks attached as producers. The network still relied on bankability.

So when Heller took a meeting about Rome, he was acutely aware he’d be unable to lend that same prestige to a sword and sandals epic. He’d written some scripts before at HBO and admired the vision of then-HBO chairman Chris Albrecht and Carolyn Strauss, then-president of HBO’s entertainment division. But he was being called in to discuss a show based on a preexisting miniseries pitch by John Milius and William J. MacDonald—a pitch the network was already wary toward.

“It’s one of those projects that’s really going for broke and very unlikely to be made, [given] the budget that was required,” Heller recalls of HBO’s attitude toward Milius and his vision. “They were paying me to write a script to take it at least to a respectable point at which time they can say, ‘Okay, thank you.’”

Citing himself as “cheap” at the time, Heller recognized it was easier to pay a young writer for a treatment than a whole production crew for a pilot. So he used the opportunity as an excuse to immerse himself in Roman history and lore. This began via conversations with his co-creators Milius and MacDonald. Their central conceit already had in place the three characters of young Octavian, the boy who would be Augustus, first Emperor of Rome, as well as Roman centurions Titus Pullo and Lucius Vorenus.

In history, as with the series, Pullo and Vorenus were the only Roman soldiers who Julius Caesar mentioned by name in his journals. But other than being Roman centurions in the 13th Legion, not much else is known of the men. And Heller took his first major liberty when he lit on the idea of changing Pullo from a centurion to a coarse, insubordinate soldier beneath Vorenus’ command.

It was a savvy move that mapped the heart of the Rome series. Whereas most other fictions about this oft-dramatized era in history focused on the lives of the legendary patricians—be it Caesar and Octavian, or Marc Antony and Cleopatra—Rome would maintain all those characters and the lower tiers in daily Roman life. Through the introduction of Pullo and Vorenus, and their contentious friendship, the fall of the Roman republic suddenly becomes an upstairs/downstairs dramedy.

Says Heller, “The model that first sparked me on ‘oh, this is how to play it’ was [Tom Stoppard’s] Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, because the larger story is so well known, like Hamlet, that it’s hard to tell that story. The downstairs story has to be more compelling than the upstairs story, because the upstairs story, a little like Batman, is a given. It’s a myth. Everyone knows what happens.”

It also allowed Heller to dive into modern research.

“There was a lot of very recent scholarship at that time that transformed people’s sense of what Roman [history] was,” Heller explains. “There was much more about the everyday life of Roman people, about how people would have lived in apartment blocks in the insular working class life, and looking at it from that modern perspective.”

Reflecting on the dirtiness and filth that would be in the Roman Forum, the showrunner adds, “It’s lucky that practically every previous representation of Rome on any scale kind of went for the grand imperial late Edward Gibbon velvet drapes and marble columns. Even Gladiator went for that. Whereas, in fact, it looked much more like Calcutta or Bombay, and smelled like that.”

This also provided the writer the chance to explore Roman culture and custom with a greater push for authenticity than many Hollywood films of yore. For example, Heller attempted to learn how to read Latin at least as well as the uneducated Pullo—though he says he only got about as far as being able to recognize “oh that’s a pub” if he were walking the streets. More successfully he came to understand his vision of the Pagan working class mentality when he wrote a scene of Pullo praying to Portunus, the Roman god of locks and keys.

It all informed an extravagant treatment for a series he’d end up writing half the episodes of (and he tells us all 22 installments of the show passed through his typewriter before shooting). Yet, at least per the co-creator, what got Rome greenlit was as much his innovations as the developments of an entirely different epic series at HBO.

“[Chris Albrecht] was looking for something that had to be big and that they had to put money behind,” Heller says. “I think it was going to be Mel Gibson doing Alexander.” Indeed, at the same time HBO was developing Rome, the network was also working with the then-beloved Oscar winning director behind Braveheart for a 10-part series on Macedonian conquest.

“Then it turned out that Mel Gibson was going to do Alexander but he wouldn’t be Alexander,” Heller says. “[But] they didn’t want to be in business with Mel Gibson as a director-producer without Mel Gibson as [the star].”

As Gibson’s project imploded, Rome’s prospects would rise, sans any stars. Clearly things in the entertainment industry were about to change.

A Bottle of Tequila in the Roman Forum

When speaking with McKidd over Zoom, the actor’s affection for Rome is profound. Not 20 feet from his screen rests Lucius Vorenus’ sword, which he safely keeps in his own home. Similarly, within the actor’s mind resides nothing but warm memories. He reminisces about seeing his children spend summers growing up around the actual ruins of the Roman Forum and Colosseum during production; and he savors still the long nights at Cinecittà with British theater legends like Kenneth Cranham, a fellow Scotsman who played Pompey Magnus.

“It was an incredibly social time,” says McKidd. “It was almost like summer camp for British actors. We all got to live there; we went out for long dinners every night and we’d speak to Kenneth and all the older actors, who told us such amazing stories about all their time in the theater.”

But one relationship, perhaps the most significant of the entire series, was that shared by McKidd and his co-star Ray Stevenson, aka Titus Pullo. While there were of course other vital parts to the series, from worldly Ciarián Hinds as Caesar to Tobias Menzies’ despairingly well-intentioned Brutus—and one must never overlook Polly Walker’s Machiavellian Atia of the Julii (Heller’s favorite character)—the heart and soul of the series belongs to Pullo and Vorenus, the odd couple of 48 BCE.

Off-screen McKidd and Stevenson had known each other for years through mutual friends, but it wasn’t until they were in the final round of chemistry auditions in a Covent Garden hotel that they began a significant lifelong friendship. But then, it was a late epiphany to cast the red-haired and fiery McKidd as the straight-laced Vorenus.

For the actor, the process began early when he bumped into Heller, as well as executive producer Anne Thomopoulos and director Michael Apted, while in Romania. At the time, McKidd was there filming the TV movie Gunpowder, Treason & Plot (2004), as it was cheaper to shoot a period piece about 16th century Scottish court intrigue in eastern Europe than actual Scotland. The Rome team was entertaining a similar idea.

“I’m strutting around in my thigh-high leather boots and period costume, and we’re riding horses and swinging swords, and all that stuff and having a great old time,” says McKidd. “And I hear these American voices in the corridor, so I come out, and here is this guy called Bruno Heller.” They immediately got to chatting about the Danny Boyle movie McKidd did, Trainspotting (1996), and about this new TV series focused on ancient Rome. McKidd quickly prepared with his current director a film reel of himself riding horses.

Yet when HBO finally sent him a script, the producers didn’t want him for the Vorenus role; they saw him as Pullo.

Read more

TV

HBO’s Rome Ending Was Originally Very Different

By David Crow

Movies

Why Gladiator Continues to Echo Through Eternity

By David Crow

On the casting process, McKidd remembers, “I said to them, ‘I’d love to come in and read, but I would really much rather read for the part of Lucius Vorenus.’ And they were like, ‘No, we really see you as maybe Pullo, can you read for Pullo?’ So I said, ‘Okay.’ So I came in and I read for Pullo. And they’re like, ‘Okay.’ Then a week goes by, and they call and they say, ‘We really love you, but maybe can you come in and read for Marc Antony?’”

So it continued until McKidd begged to get a screen test for Vorenus. It even took so long he initially considered turning the series down in favor of indie projects he was already committing to. That was at least a thought he had on the set of Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven (2005) until word got around at the pub to co-star Liam Neeson.

“I came down to the bar and Liam was pointing his finger at me and he was like, ‘You, I need to have a word with you outside,’” McKidd says. “And I was like, ‘Ah shit.’” Out in a snow-covered Spanish countryside, Neeson commanded, “Go to a phone booth, find a phone right now. Call your agent and hope and pray they haven’t offered that part to somebody else.”

They had not, and soon enough McKidd was flying alongside Stevenson to the actual city of Rome.

“I remember me and Ray going to Rome in the spring… with Michael Apted, walking around this back lot at Cinecittà, and it was all just scaffolding at that time, there was no frontage. I remember Michael turned to me and Ray and said, basically, we can’t fuck this up, because it was so huge. It was so beyond anything that any of us had ever seen.”

With red paint chipping across weathered doors, and mules grazing in the squares, a Roman Forum unlike any other came alive in the same space where Martin Scorsese just filmed Gangs of New York. The sense of size and scale was overwhelming, as was the pressure on Stevenson and McKidd to anchor it. Fifteen years later, McKidd is candid about how that tension shaped each man and, in the actor’s mind, the series.

During the last day of production on the first season, after shooting had wrapped and festivities began, McKidd and Stevenson found themselves sharing a quiet set of stairs leading up to their Roman senate. Between them was a bottle of tequila. Off in the distance, the faint sound of wrap party debauchery was rising to a muffled roar, yet the central stars of Rome were keeping their own company and having a long overdue conversation.

“I don’t think Ray would be mad at me for telling this story because we’re still close friends and I love him dearly,” McKidd says with a measured tone. “Initially, he and I clashed. We just had very different styles. Ray’s this big larger than life personality, and as Bruno would say, I’m much more this ‘Presbyterian,’ or you could say a little more controlling… and we ended up at loggerheads a lot, and fighting, and being difficult in the first season.”

Yet as McKidd is quick to point out, this translated to perfect chemistry on the screen, as Pullo and Vorenus were often “at loggerheads” during the first season, which culminated with Vorenus’ life imploding on the same day as Caesar’s assassination. Meanwhile Pullo found some semblance of peace. But here in the twilight of a recreated Roman Forum, the season was getting a much needed post-script.

“The wrap party is going on somewhere, and we can hear the music,” McKidd says, “and he and I just sat out there sharing the bottle of tequila. And we had it out, you know? Because we both had been holding stuff in for the season about things that annoyed each other… We got all of it off our chest and we ended up just having a huge hug, and we threw this bottle, this [now] empty bottle of tequila, into the middle of the Forum. We made a pact with each other that from that point on we were going to be the closest of friends, and we still are.”

In many ways, it mirrored the coming dynamic between Pullo and Vorenus in season 2, which McKidd likewise recognizes.

“Our bond was unbreakable in the second season,” he says. “You see that chemistry shift and move, and morph throughout the two seasons, and it pretty much tracks Ray and my relationship.” And it would prove indispensable that second year, especially as both characters, like their actors, were forced to close ranks and face that the end was nigh.

The Cost of Doing Business Like the Romans Do

Founded in 1937 by Benito Mussolini, the international renown of Rome’s Cinecittà Studios has long superseded its less than auspicious beginnings. Celebrated as the home to a highly skilled community of filmmaking artisans, Cinecittà’s name is inseparable with legendary filmmakers like Federico Fellini, Roberto Rossellini, and Sergio Leone. And it’s been the site of landmark Hollywood productions, such as Roman Holiday (1953), Ben-Hur (1959), and even the notorious Cleopatra (1963). Yet as Heller points out, no American production has been back to Cinecittà since Rome.

Says the creator, “It’s Italy, I love it, and it’s part of the culture, but you were there to be picked over and for them to, in completely formal and legitimately legal ways, take as much money out of the production as possible.” He pauses to smile and choose his next words carefully about the difference between shooting a movie and TV series in that environment.

“With a series, you’re making long-term relationships,” he continues. “It’s like a marriage. A movie is a one-night stand. You can be a bastard to everyone on a movie and you’re never going to see them again. So the result is more important than the relationships. In a TV series, the relationships are more important, in the end. It’s pointless having a successful first season of a show and then you can’t do the second season because no one will work together.”

This is not to say the only reason Rome was prematurely cancelled had to do with frustrations over the cost of doing business in Rome—McKidd also cites, for example, Rome eating up too much of HBO’s production budget from other projects in 2006. Nonetheless, reports of high-finance rigamarole even reached the cast.

Says McKidd, “I heard enough to know [about] the scaffolding. I don’t know how many tons of scaffolding was used to build that set, but I remember one of the earlier conversations was, ‘We need to buy this much scaffolding.’ And the people at Cinecittà were like, ‘You can’t buy that much scaffolding, but you can rent it from my brother.’”

Both Heller and McKidd insist there was no criminality or dishonesty about this, and it was simply the way things are done. But for the creator, word was executives high above his pay grade were disturbed by the Byzantine labyrinth of Italian politics. So much so it became contagious throughout Hollywood.

“At one stage, the Italian government issued arrest warrants or provisional arrest warrants for all the fiduciary producers of the show,” Heller recalls. “And that’s a sort of a standard Italian business practice, but when buttoned-down straight-laced lawyers from New York are flying out to Rome and discovering that this is [how business is done], people were spooked.”

It was also just a contributing factor to Rome’s untimely cancellation, which occurred during the pre-production process of season 2—and before the series’ popularity would explode with the international DVD sales and second season launch.

Heller was so far into writing the second season that they were in prep, gearing up to film the second season premiere, when he got the call it was over. The havoc this wreaked on Rome’s remaining 10 episodes, with one of them ready to shoot, was immediate.

When the first season concluded, Gaius Julius Caesar was dead, Vorenus had lost the love of his life, and Rome was headed toward civil war. The second season was always meant to be the fallout of that war, with a study in the brief and doomed alliance of Marc Antony (James Purefoy) and young Octavian (Max Pirkis), as well as the woman between them, Octavian’s mother and Antony’s lover, Atia. All of that, plus the death of Brutus and the other conspirators, would still occur in season 2… but so would Antony’s flight to Egypt and the eventual civil war between a now adult Octavian (Simon Woods) and Antony and Cleopatra (Lyndsey Marshal).

“I had to reconceive the second season basically from scratch,” Heller says with lingering exasperation. “Because when you take out that much history, the jump between the death of Caesar and Marc Antony taking over, and his death in Egypt, it was a huge amount of quite obscure but great, scandalous, fascinating, eventful history.” Most of it had to be jettisoned, too, between Brutus’ death and Antony declaring in his will that Caesar and Cleopatra’s son is Caesar’s true heir.

Some critics and fans were disappointed with the visibly breakneck pace of the second season. Others found it an exciting retelling of that period. One of Rome’s stars seems to be in the middle.

“I think the second season was successful in some ways, but it also feels, in my mind, a little rushed,” McKidd confesses. “And I think Bruno would say that too. Just because so much story was crushed and sort of concentrated down into season 2. I love [it], but I definitely felt like it was a lot condensed in.” 

And yet, McKidd and Heller both seem to lean more toward a satisfaction with it. In fact, the producer even suggests the ending with the ascension of Octavian to imperial status (he takes the title “First Citizen”) was the perfect grace note. While it’s well known among fans the series had a five-season bible with Cleopatra and Antony’s deaths originally marking the end of season 4, and season 5 following Vorenus and Pullo going to Palestine in time for the birth of Christ, that was never Heller’s favorite part. 

“That was one of the elements that Milius was fascinated by that I had no interest in whatsoever, frankly, trying to tie it in to the birth of Christ. Because, at the time, it meant nothing. It would have to be a completely different story. Put it another way, no Romans were worried or thinking about the coming of the Messiah.”

It was a Christmas story Heller didn’t want to tell. Even so, he had some interesting ideas already in place, including a vision of the ancient Holy Lands being closer to Monty Python’s Life of Brian than Ben-Hur.

“Palestine was in ferment at the time, and messiahs were popping up all over the place,” Heller says. “Judaism, at that point, was in a moment very much like Islam at the moment, full of passion and ferment and faith, and dreams of martyrdom.”

Like much else with Rome, it feels like a fascinating opportunity left unfulfilled, but one that the creator is glad to leave unexplored.

All Roads Lead to Rome’s Legacy

Rome shined briefly but brightly on premium cable. Premiering in the fall of 2005, it was gone by spring ’07. But even shortly after its cancellation, there were some small whispers of regret because of the show’s DVD sales; whispers that continue to be heard by stars of the series. McKidd says if you asked HBO in 2020, some would likely wince again at cancelling it, as he heard they did by the time season 2 aired. But “they couldn’t go back on that, or felt they couldn’t.”

But if it burned off like a Roman candle—with fire and thunder in its wake—the show still provided a roadmap for how to produce a massive spectacle as a television series.

“I think a lot of the producers that aren’t the ones that you hear about mostly, like Frank Doelger…  were all pivotal on Rome and went directly into Game of Thrones,” McKidd says. “Frank Doelger was one of the main producers, and he very much was the guy who whipped our show into shape and we learned a lot of lessons. So yeah, I think very directly, those people went into Game of Thrones and had learned a lot about how to do this kind of level [of production.]”

Heller likewise marvels at how HBO learned from Rome’s problems with its initially more affordable and tighter fantasy epic.

“The way they divided crews up in Game of Thrones, it was clever because there was always a general staff of central command, but they had more than one general, and they didn’t lose control of the generals,” Heller says.

And just as Rome carved a path for the modern era of epic television shows, Game of Thrones has now created a space for more diverse TV epics like Netflix’s The Witcher and Amazon’s upcoming Lord of the Rings series.

“[We were] ahead of the curve in the sense that it was too early,” Heller says. “But it’s not so much the audience [changed], as it is the appetite and the ability of networks and studios to make things of that size and to promote them and to market them, and to have faith and the courage to back them up.”

This series walked so that Peak TV could run. It’s a formidable legacy, and one that proves all roads in blockbuster television really do lead back to Rome.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post Rome: The Long Road of the Original HBO Epic appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/38reEeK

[chrisemrysfics]

That moment I can’t recall for sure when I first touched fanfics. And then you get this long post because I rambled about trying to recall and finding the clues.

Read more, but yeah if you’re curious, it’s pretty much my history with reading then writing fics, the fandoms and years, with one two little notes on what I was doing original writing wise.

Long story short: I first started reading fics in (most likely second half of) 2008 and first started writing by the end of 2009, 2009-2011 was a very productive time and it was in YGO GX fandom, then I had a burn out for multiple reason, and it’s by first half of 2013 that I finally had another good productive time with BBC Merlin (while I had mostly left YGO GX, with one fic I still open to finish in some ways), end of 2013 I started writing for Pokemon, and then for a few years I’ve picked up fandoms but never really went far, like I had short term burst of inspiration energy, and long term was just very slow updating because I didn’t wish to quit any of my fics, and then in 2017 I discovered DGM and by July 2017 I was writing for it and have been quite productive since then, especially the first year or so, a big part because it was like, the first big love I have had since BBC Merlin, and it grew as my all time favorite.

A big part of Assassin’s Light being easy to write for a period of time is because it’s half DGM, of course as you noticed things did need to slow down for me, but my love and inspiration for DGM has not lessened. MDZS did come and quickly made me fall so very deeply in love with it, I don’t hide that I love it a little bit more than DGM, but at present time, both DGM and MDZS are my focus, with a slightly easier time writing for MDZS.

(Everything else is still on-going, but very, very, very slow).

The problem is, my files for my fics, I moved them at some point, or copy paste, the oldest dates from 2014 which is two years after I stopped college, which is likely also due to how I changed laptop and such along the years. And the other problem is, I once left ffnet then came back, so I can’t see anymore the actual, initial publish dates.

The best I can use is the date of when I joined ffnet, which is in 2009, but this also places me at 17. I could have been writing my first fic before that, but I wouldn’t have been able to post it until then, and I don’t feel like I had multiple chapters to post, so it is likely that I started writing fics at 16/17. It was my second (of three) years of high school at that age range.

As I feel like I can recall I was reading fics in middle school, the best I can guess is that I started reading fics in my last year of middle school (14 to 15), probably toward the end of it, which kind of feels about right? But that means I spend around a year just reading, like if it’s at the end of middle school, it’s close to when I got to 15, so 2007 (as I would have had my 15th birthday in 2007).

Which sounds about right, I do feel “2007″ is the year I remember. In 2008 I would have had my 16th birthday, and it would have been a year or so since I’ve started reading fics, but the ffnet profile says I joined 11 December 2009, so that’s past my 17th birthday, and makes it easily two years since I started reading fics.

Which blows my mind a bit because I was convinced I started writing not long after, but apparently, not? Like I don’t recall having posted elsewhere before ffnet, so in all logic, it is in December 2009 that I made my account, and likely posted my first fic not long after. So however long I was reading, I was already 17 when I first wrote fics (or late 16 if I started writing a bit but didn’t post).

It is possible I have been mixing up my fic dates with original write, as in that case, I am certain I started writing my first novel in the end of middle school, so the “2007″ in my brain is quite likely when I started writing my first novel (it was end of middle school, so the last few months of being 14 and around being 15, which does all place the year as 2007). Which does make more sense, now that I’m trying to remember, I think I didn’t know yet fanfics when I started writing my original novel?

In short: 2007 aka 14-15, I was writing the start of my original novel (I didn’t finish back then), and somewhere 15-16 so in 2008 I started reading fics (and it was my first year of high school, which, actually does fit better the settings of the school library I vaguely recall). And roughly one year after, in 2009 when I was 17, I made my ffnet account and posted my first fic (which was written either on the spot, or started a few weeks before I made my account, but in any case I was 17 when I wrote my first fic).

For the record: that first fic was Angel and Sephirot in YGO GX, although Eventful Journey followed soon after, so both were completed somewhere in 2010 as I remember I was writing quickly back then, like it was already December 2009 so early 2010 I was very, very likely writing and posting for both fics, and by the end of 2010 I had completed Angel and Sephirot. I know my next multi chap was Hellish Chronicles, and I can find review reply from 2011 in my ffnet inbox. I do think I had some time between Angel and Sephirot and Hellish Chronicle, so that’s why I do feel I finished that first fic at most mid 2010 (and continued more slowly working on Eventful Journey).

I was writing other fics that I had adopted during/after my writing on Hellish Chronicle (which I haven’t put back as I lost contact with the original author, so out of respect I haven’t put them back up), and by September 2011 I can find messages where I mention I was working hard for the start of the second year of college, which does fit since I dropped college after I finished my second year in June 2012, and this also really slowed me down when it came to fics.

In December 2013, I can see the “oldest” fic is Always by your side in BBC Merlin, which is the first I had reposted, and my AO3 was made on February 2013, and I recall that I removed my fic from ffnet when there was some crackdown on fics, but only because I could post them on AO3, so this means I removed my fics from ffnet somewhere between february and december of 2013 (at most, from february to december, less if I didn’t remove them right away). And I started writing for BBC Merlin in 2013 (which seem to be end of 2013), which was after maybe one year or one and a half since I properly wrote anything multi chaptered (while some of the last YGO GX writing I did, one shots, were dated October 2013 so there were still months).

2007 (14-15) is first dabble in original novel, 2008 (15-16) is when I first started reading fics (and never stopped since then!), December 2009 (17) is when I created my ffnet account and so could post fics, first half of 2010 (still 17) is when I likely wrote and finished Angel and Sephirot, 2010-2011 (17-18) is when I was writing for YGO GX, end of 2001-first half of 2012 is when I had too much going on to write as much and so spent months either not writing, or like, writing one chapter every few weeks/months, but also it’s second half of 2012 that I started working again on my first novel, February 2013 I made my AO3 account, in July 2013 I first started writing for BBC Merlin, October 2013 I had written some one shots for YGO GX, but was mostly writing for BBC Merlin.

Let’s see for when I started dabbling in other fandoms. Pokemon is December 2013, December 2014 and early 2015 is when I touched KKM (didn’t go far back then in the fics though), end of 2015 is when I wrote a bit for FNAF (same, didn’t go far), March 2016 is when I started on White Collar fic (once more, didn’t go far), (and March 2016 was also when I first posted my first novel), August 2016 is when I started on Natsume Yuujinchou fic (went a few chapters with not too much time between updates), May 2017 is when I started working on Outlast fic (didn’t go far), and it’s in July of 2017 that I finally touched DGM, which soon became my focus.

Assassin’s Light was started in January 2019, or well, was posted then, I had started writing for it before, through end of 2018, but yeah early 2019 was Assassin’s Light, and in general since 2017 I have been mostly focused on DGM. And then October 2019 I posted Shadows Symphonie, and since then I mostly focused on MDZS while also working on my DGM fics when I can; and leaving everything else to work on whenever I have a higher dose of inspiration-energy. Which is rarer, but I haven’t quitted my other fics.

All in all, I was relatively able to be quick from 2009 to 2011, but college and personal stuff really burned me out, I lost interest in YGO GX especially as it felt different to how I came to write by 2013 (which is why my first two fics are the only one that I might rewrite one day), BBC Merlin stole my heart and brought me back to writing fics properly, I wrote more for it compared to all other fandoms that followed until DGM. All those other fandoms, I had a burst of inspiration, but the actual drive didn’t last, which I also suspect is because it did take me years to feel more, recovered. That and I was working on my original writing too, so. And then when I came into DGM, it brought me a large dose of inspiration, and I’ve wriiten more for it than any other fandom.

When you look at it, I have indeed the most fics in DGM (especially as I did events), then it’s BBC Merlin (which is still one of my all time favorite, alongside DGM and MDZS), and then it’s YGO GX (which is due to how I was more active very early on then the burn out hit me).

And while in number I don’t have as many MDZS fics, in spirit I certainly place it as same level as DGM.

[bondsmagii]

(over the last month or so, I’ve been working on a small project for Halloween. I’ve long since been fascinated by the paranormal experiences that occur in childhood – it seems everyone has at least one incident that occurred when they were younger that they can’t explain now. I have many, of course, but I started thinking about the children I grew up with. what were my childhood friends experiencing at the same age as I was, when we were in class together; hung around together? I managed to get in touch with several old friends I had from the ages of 8-11, and asked them to share that one incident they couldn’t explain. I have recreated the stories here, with my own narrative supported by excerpts from their letters – and it’s a pretty impressive bunch of stories.)

JAMES

James wrote to me with a story regarding one of those childhood memories that are horrific even at the best of times: middle school dances. Where we grew up, children were in middle school from the ages of 8 to 11, so as you can imagine, dances were closely monitored and not exactly places where much could happen – at least, if you didn’t go looking for trouble like James and his friend Mitchell were known to do.

The dance was held in the hall, which doubled as the gym and cafeteria. There were three ways in and out: the short staircase and doorway from the main entrance, the door in the hallway near the girls’ changing rooms, and the doors that led directly outside to a deck and part of the playing fields. All of these doors were closely monitored by teachers, and the rest of the school was barred off with one exception.: the classroom opposite the hall door had been set up with drinks and snacks, and because such things weren’t allowed in the main hall (nobody wanted sticky drinks near a bunch of hyperactive children damn near moshing to 90s hits) the classroom’s doors leading to a central courtyard were opened, and kids were allowed out there only for the time it took to eat or drink whatever they had. Teachers were stationed outside to ensure that everybody went back inside as soon as possible, even though the courtyard was enclosed on all sides by the school; perhaps it was for that reason that James and Mitchell took offence to what they deemed a petty rule, but he doesn’t remember for sure.

All I really remember is that Mitch and I decided to try and get out of the courtyard, so we snuck off through the plants and went to the hallway on the other side, trying to find an open door. It was like, November or something, and about 7pm, so it was totally dark, and once we were on the other side of the courtyard there was no way the teachers would be able to see us. We figured that would be the end of the laugh, but then Mitch tried a door and it was open. We’d managed to make it into the closed off part of the school, and it was pitch black and totally awesome.

From what James recalls, this would have been 2000, almost 2001. Sensor lights were not really a thing, and aside from normal key locks on the classroom doors, there were no interior doors locked or requiring cards to be scanned or anything futuristic like that. James and Mitch, having bypassed the teachers’ guard, had free run of the other three hallways that made up the square-shaped school; so long as they didn’t get spotted by the teachers in the courtyard, they would be fine. All the hallways had windows looking out onto it, but everything was dark, so the two of them were able to wander freely, if slowly – it really was dark, and most definitely unnerving.

I think one of those specifically creepy places is a school at night. I think it’s probably got the same feel to it as abandoned buildings – perhaps I don’t have to explain it to you, what with you being into urbex, but there’s just something about a building that should be busy being so deserted… it’s so fucking eerie. Here were these corridors that Mitch and I had walked down a thousand times, but now they were silent, and dark, and the glass on the classroom doors was reflecting our movements, and nothing looked how it should. The trays and shelves of projects and assignments took on monstrous new shapes, and when we stepped through into the library/computer lab it was like this great vault of darkness opened up; I know I was kind of unnerved at that point, and so was Mitch, but neither of us wanted to admit it.

This area of the school was the only place where the courtyard could not be seen; its only windows opened out onto the dark playing fields. James and Mitch were in total blackness and silence now, and as they debated what to do next, Mitch pointed out something odd over by the playing fields. James says:

The playing fields, as you remember, were huge. They were pretty dark that night, and at first I couldn’t see what Mitch was talking about. I thought he was fucking with me, because he was on about seeing a man standing on the playing field. I looked for a while but couldn’t see, and I was about to call him out on it when I saw the guy. In the same moment, Mitch grabbed my arm, like “do you see him?”

Mitch had been insisting that the man had been coming closer, and now James could see him, he wondered if Mitch might be telling the truth. The figure was still too far away to be able to make out features, but it was definitely a person, dressed entirely in dark clothing. As James watched, the figure seemed to get closer again, though for some strange reason they couldn’t make out his legs. He was far enough away that they should have been able to see them before the window cut him off, but they figured the angle was strange, and tried instead to work out just who he might be.

It seemed there was a pattern. The figure would move slightly closer to the darkened building, as though checking to see if he had been observed, and then edge closer again. James and Mitch, confident that they couldn’t be seen in the darkness of the library, stood very still and watched.

“Do you think we should tell somebody?” Mitch eventually asked.

“We’ll get into trouble,” James pointed out. “We’re not supposed to be here, remember?”

“I guess. Yeah, he can’t get in anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t people cut through there sometimes?” James asked. “From the houses and stuff?”

“Yeah, but they don’t creep around two steps at a time,” Mitch said, and laughed. “Weirdo. Should we go back, or try and make it all the way around?”

They decided to try and make it all the way around, leaving what they called the weird stalker to do whatever it was that he was doing. As mentioned, the main school was made up of four straight halls with classrooms and various alcoves coming off them; if they kept walking, they would end up at the main entrance, and would hopefully be able to sneak back in through the other door and back into the hall. They got close enough that they could hear the lyrics of the music over the pounding bass, and then a door in the final hallway – the staff corridor – opened and light spilled out, freezing them in their tracks. They watched as several teachers came out of the staff room, laughing, and paused to chat in the hallway.

“This way,” James whispered, and they turned back up towards the library, hoping to double back the way they came.

“Wonder if we’ll see the weird stalker again,” Mitch grinned, as they vanished back into the dark.

“Probably be standing there blowing raspberries against the window,” James joked, and like all jokes told when it would be unwise to laugh, the two of them found the idea ridiculously hilarious. They were still laughing when they reached the library, seeing no sign of him and expressing their disappointment that he wasn’t.

Then they came around one of the shelves and saw one of the windows in full, and there he was. They still couldn’t make out features – James describes him as following:

From a distance it had looked like he was so formless because he was bundled up in winter clothes, but when he was this close we realised there was still no real shape to him. He looked like a person, but more like the outline of a person; there were no lines or shadows to denote clothing or facial features. It was just a solid mass of black, pressed right up against the window, and then he took another step forward and just… stepped into the room.

James and Mitch ran, of course. They headed for the doors leading to the first hall – the one with the unlocked door leading back to the courtyard – and before they ran through, James took one look back.

It was only a quick glance, but I’m pretty certain of what I saw. The figure was standing, silhouetted, against the windows, still a solid mass with no real features. It was definitely inside, because I could see the shoes or feet or whatever now, against the carpet (the carpet was a light blue, so it was very clear). Just before I turned away again – probably the same moment – I saw the figure kind of just collapse, or disintegrate… one moment he was there, looking solid, and the next he had slid to the ground in a sudden formless rush, and was gone.

They made it back to the courtyard and avoided getting caught. They only dared to mention it to their friends (myself included) in the safety of a bright, busy school day the following week; despite our investigating, none of us could find anything to explain it – no potential tricks of the light, no weird abnormalities on the walls or carpet, no reflections, no creepy backstories about the school or the area. Despite sneaking out during several more dances, nothing like it occurred again.

The school was closed in 2015, and has remained abandoned ever since.

[theculturedmarxist]

My dad was born in 1917. Somehow, he survived the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918-1919, but an outbreak of whooping cough in 1923 claimed his baby sister, Clementina. One of my dad’s first memories was seeing his sister’s tiny white casket. Another sister was permanently marked by scarlet fever. In 1923, my dad was hit by a car and spent two weeks in a hospital with a fractured skull as well as a lacerated thumb. His immigrant parents had no medical insurance, but the driver of the car gave his father $50 toward the medical bills. The only lasting effect was the scar my father carried for the rest of his life on his right thumb.

The year 1929 brought the Great Depression and lean times. My father’s father had left the family, so my dad, then 12, had to pitch in. He got a newspaper route, which he kept for four years, quitting high school after tenth grade so he could earn money for the family. In 1935, like millions of other young men of that era, he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), a creation of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal that offered work on environmental projects of many kinds. He battled forest fires in Oregon for two years before returning to his family and factory work. In 1942, he was drafted into the Army, going back to a factory job when World War II ended. Times grew a little less lean in 1951 when he became a firefighter, after which he felt he could afford to buy a house and start a family.

I’m offering all this personal history as the context for a prediction of my dad’s that, for obvious reasons, came to my mind again recently. When I was a teenager, he liked to tell me: “I had it tough in the beginning and easy in the end. You, Willy, have had it easy in the beginning, but will likely have it tough in the end.” His prophecy stayed with me, perhaps because even then, somewhere deep down, I already suspected that my dad was right.

The COVID-19 pandemic is now grabbing the headlines, all of them, and a global recession, if not a depression, seems like a near-certainty. The stock market has been tanking and people’s lives are being disrupted in fundamental and scary ways. My dad knew the experience of losing a loved one to disease, of working hard to make ends meet during times of great scarcity, of sacrificing for the good of one’s family. Compared to him, it’s true that, so far, I’ve had an easier life as an officer in the Air Force and then a college teacher and historian. But at age 57, am I finally ready for the hard times to come? Are any of us?

And keep in mind that this is just the beginning. Climate change (recall Australia’s recent and massive wildfires) promises yet more upheavals, more chaos, more diseases. America’s wanton militarism and lying politicians promise more wars. What’s to be done to avert or at least attenuate the tough times to come, assuming my dad’s prediction is indeed now coming true? What can we do?

It’s Time to Reimagine America

Here’s the one thing about major disruptions to normalcy: they can create opportunities for dramatic change. (Disaster capitalists know this, too, unfortunately.) President Franklin Roosevelt recognized this in the 1930s and orchestrated his New Deal to revive the economy and put Americans like my dad back to work.

In 2001, the administration of President George W. Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney capitalized on the shock-and-awe disruption of the 9/11 attacks to inflict on the world their vision of a Pax Americana, effectively a militarized imperium justified (falsely) as enabling greater freedom for all. The inherent contradiction in such a dreamscape was so absurd as to make future calamity inevitable. Recall what an aide to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld scribbled down, only hours after the attack on the Pentagon and the collapse of the Twin Towers, as his boss’s instructions (especially when it came to looking for evidence of Iraqi involvement): “Go massive — sweep it all up, things related and not.” And indeed they would do just that, with an emphasis on the “not,” including, of course, the calamitous invasion of Iraq in 2003.

To progressive-minded people thinking about this moment of crisis, what kind of opportunities might open to us when (or rather if) Donald Trump is gone from the White House? Perhaps this coronaviral moment is the perfect time to consider what it would mean for us to go truly big, but without the usual hubris or those disastrous invasions of foreign countries. To respond to COVID-19, climate change, and the staggering wealth inequities in this country that, when combined, will cause unbelievable levels of needless suffering, what’s needed is a drastic reordering of our national priorities.

Remember, the Fed’s first move was to inject $1.5 trillion into the stock market. (That would have been enough to forgive all current student debt.) The Trump administration has also promised to help airlines, hotels, and above all oil companies and the fracking industry, a perfect storm when it comes to trying to sustain and enrich those upholding a kleptocratic and amoral status quo.

This should be a time for a genuinely new approach, one fit for a world of rising disruption and disaster, one that would define a new, more democratic, less bellicose America. To that end, here are seven suggestions, focusing — since I’m a retired military officer — mainly on the U.S. military, a subject that continues to preoccupy me, especially since, at present, that military and the rest of the national security state swallow up roughly 60% of federal discretionary spending:

1. If ever there was a time to reduce our massive and wasteful military spending, this is it. There was never, for example, any sense in investing up to $1.7 trillion over the next 30 years to “modernize” America’s nuclear arsenal. (Why are new weapons needed to exterminate humanity when the “old” ones still work just fine?) Hundreds of stealth fighters and bombers — it’s estimated that Lockheed Martin’s disappointing F-35 jet fighter alone will cost $1.5 trillion over its life span — do nothing to secure us from pandemics, the devastating effects of climate change, or other all-too-pressing threats. Such weaponry only emboldens a militaristic and chauvinistic foreign policy that will facilitate yet more wars and blowback problems of every sort. And speaking of wars, isn’t it finally time to end U.S. involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan? More than $6 trillion has already been wasted on those wars and, in this time of global peril, even more is being wasted on this country’s forever conflicts across the Greater Middle East and Africa. (Roughly $4 billion a month continues to be spent on Afghanistan alone, despite all the talk about “peace” there.)

2. Along with ending profligate weapons programs and quagmire wars, isn’t it time for the U.S. to begin dramatically reducing its military “footprint” on this planet? Roughly 800 U.S. military bases circle the globe in a historically unprecedented fashion at a yearly cost somewhere north of $100 billion. Cutting such numbers in half over the next decade would be a more than achievable goal. Permanently cutting provocative “war games” in South Korea, Europe, and elsewhere would be no less sensible. Are North Korea and Russia truly deterred by such dramatic displays of destructive military might?

3. Come to think of it, why does the U.S. need the immediate military capacity to fight two major foreign wars simultaneously, as the Pentagon continues to insist we do and plan for, in the name of “defending” our country? Here’s a radical proposal: if you add 70,000 Special Operations forces to 186,000 Marine Corps personnel, the U.S. already possesses a potent quick-strike force of roughly 250,000 troops. Now, add in the Army’s 82nd and 101st Airborne divisions and the 10th Mountain Division. What you have is more than enough military power to provide for America’s actual national security. All other Army divisions could be reduced to cadres, expandable only if our borders are directly threatened by war. Similarly, restructure the Air Force and Navy to de-emphasize the present “global strike” vision of those services, while getting rid of Donald Trump’s newest service, the Space Force, and the absurdist idea of taking war into low earth orbit. Doesn’t America already have enough war here on this small planet of ours?

4. Bring back the draft, just not for military purposes. Make it part of a national service program for improving America. It’s time for a new Civilian Conservation Corps focused on fostering a Green New Deal. It’s time for a new Works Progress Administration to rebuild America’s infrastructure and reinvigorate our culture, as that organization did in the Great Depression years. It’s time to engage young people in service to this country. Tackling COVID-19 or future pandemics would be far easier if there were quickly trained medical aides who could help free doctors and nurses to focus on the more difficult cases. Tackling climate change will likely require more young men and women fighting forest fires on the west coast, as my dad did while in the CCC — and in a climate-changing world there will be no shortage of other necessary projects to save our planet. Isn’t it time America’s youth answered a call to service? Better yet, isn’t it time we offered them the opportunity to truly put America, rather than themselves, first?

5. And speaking of “America First,” that eternal Trumpian catch-phrase, isn’t it time for all Americans to recognize that global pandemics and climate change make a mockery of walls and go-it-alone nationalism, not to speak of politics that divide, distract, and keep so many down? President Dwight D. Eisenhower once said that only Americans can truly hurt America, but there’s a corollary to that: only Americans can truly save America — by uniting, focusing on our common problems, and uplifting one another. To do so, it’s vitally necessary to put an end to fear-mongering (and warmongering). As President Roosevelt famously said in his first inaugural address in the depths of the Great Depression, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Fear inhibits our ability to think clearly, to cooperate fully, to change things radically as a community.

6. To cite Yoda, the Jedi master, we must unlearn what we have learned. For example, America’s real heroes shouldn’t be “warriors” who kill or sports stars who throw footballs and dunk basketballs. We’re witnessing our true heroes in action right now: our doctors, nurses, and other medical personnel, together with our first responders, and those workers who stay in grocery stores, pharmacies, and the like and continue to serve us all despite the danger of contracting the coronavirus from customers. They are all selflessly resisting a threat too many of us either didn’t foresee or refused to treat seriously, most notably, of course, President Donald Trump: a pandemic that transcends borders and boundaries. But can Americans transcend the increasingly harsh and divisive borders and boundaries of our own minds? Can we come to work selflessly to save and improve the lives of others? Can we become, in a sense, lovers of humanity?

7. Finally, we must extend our love to encompass nature, our planet. For if we keep treating our lands, our waters, and our skies like a set of trash cans and garbage bins, our children and their children will inherit far harder times than the present moment, hard as it may be.

What these seven suggestions really amount to is rejecting a militarized mindset of aggression and a corporate mindset of exploitation for one that sees humanity and this planet more holistically. Isn’t it time to regain that vision of the earth we shared collectively during the Apollo moon missions: a fragile blue sanctuary floating in the velvety darkness of space, an irreplaceable home to be cared for and respected since there’s no other place for us to go? Otherwise, I fear that my father’s prediction will come true not just for me, but for generations to come and in ways that even he couldn’t have imagined.