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mysticprofessoralienhumanoid · 5 years ago

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Turning down the akuma pt. 3

@mikantsume @starwindmaden @gimme-more-caffeine @unmaskedagain

Here you go...

Marinette thought the whispers and looks couldn't get any worse.

Oh, how she was wrong.

The day after the interview the amount of those increased dramatically, with even bigger fear and even more guilt in her classmates' eyes.

But now it wasn't only her class.

Oh no, it was the whole school. Every student, every teacher, hell, whole Paris. Each one of them looked at her and stared in fear at her cold eyes sending them look of boredom and aggravation.

And Marinette didn't like the attention to say the least. She hated it with her whole heart, but knew she couldn't do anything to stop it.

On one side, her interview was a big succes. People recognizing her and some brave ones even asking for her autograph and thanking her for giving them something to hold onto. It gave Parisians a feeling of hope and insurance, knowing they all are able to stop the process of the akumazination and it's not only Ladybug and Chat Noit, who can stop Hawkmoth.

But on the other side, it also worsened the situation. Her class' acquaintances got looks of hatred, disgust and disappointment from everyone around them, some even openly blaming them and/or calling them out and it didn't help, that they already felt shitty and blamed themselves they well damn should.

Nathaniel had problems with painting; drawing in general. The one time he let himself paint whatever his soul wanted (his words, not mine), he made a painting of Marinette back to evillustrator times, huh? with icy eyes, but still with a hint of a disappointment in them, piercing right throught him, glaring at him, getting all the bad emotions he kept in himself out, to the point he fell on his knees, crying. Later, he burned the painting and swore to himself to never let the emotions 'draw' for him. He was terrified of his own mind. And it was just after the almost akumazination.

But he wasn't the only one.

When Rose came home that day, instead of texting Prince Ali or singing, doing anything productive in general, she threw herself onto her bed, face in pillow, screaming, crying, saying Marinette's name over and over again. She was so ashamed in herself. She was so naive, so blind, she chose a new classmate over her friend. How could she ever doubt Marinette? She was the most honest and fair-minded person Rose had ever got the luck to meet.

Max didn't want to play any video game. Even Ultra Mecha Strike III. Especially Ultra Mecha Strike III. Every time he took his controller, an image of Marinette dancing that little, ridiculous dance of hers each time she won a game, her bluebell eyes shining at everyone with happiness, sharing her energy and kindness with them. Oh, how he wished to see those sky-blue eyes again. But wanted them to be a sky with sun shining and not a sky just before the storm. He felt like giving up.

Ivan didn't eat as much as he usually do. He was more aggressive and unpredictable. Everyone was afraid to be closer than few feet near him.

Nino didn't say 'dude', 'dudette' or 'bro' anymore. Nothing. Nada. He wasn't that chill and friendly version, everyone knew anymore, now he was... Sad. Depressed.

Juleka was now showing even less emotions. She was emotionless. Luka was worried, but knew he couldn't do anything, so he just watched her from his room, guitar in his hands, mindlessly letting his hands play sad tunes and melodies.

Even Chloe changed. I know, shocker. She blamed herself a little too. She knew Lila was liar, she could do something about it. Now she was even meaner and once when ms. Bustier was calling the roll, Chloe bursted out and threatened to call the mayor. The stress was just too much. I mean, her mother, her father, her lack of friends, therefore she couldn't really talk to anyone about her feelings, and now Marinette. It was all too much. Just stop, she wanted it all to stop.

Rose wasn't quirky anymore, her smile wasn't as bright as it used to be.

Mylene also didn't smile. Now she didn't talk with anyone. Even Ivan.

Sabrina was ashamed in her. Her father was a cop, for god's sake, she should've done someyhing! She was also mad at herself for accusing Marinette for using her just like Chloe, even though she knew the young designer was trying to help her.

Kim almost got thrown out from swimming team and wasn't so energetic. He wasn't as competitive as usual. To hell with it, he didn't even want to compete with anyone.

Alix, well, on the outside she hasn't changed that much, but she was blaming herself too. She wished she could punched Lila so hard, the chick would hit the Moon and hopefully die due the lack of oxygen. I wish i could do it too, Alix.

Every single one of them felt the consequences of their mistake and each one of them took the blame in their own way. Sure, they were sad, angry and blamed themselves.

But Alya?

Oh, Alya was devastated. She was so stupid, so blind, so so naive. How could she do this to her best friend? When she came from school, after this 'Marinette's almost akumazination' incident, she went to her room, not saying a word to anyone. Actually, since Marinette'd gone to the back of the class, after sending them an emotionless look, Alya hasn't said a word to anyone. She just sat expresionless at her desk, now all alone, and stared blankly at the wall.

But after she came home? Oh, it was a whole different story.

She cried. She screamed. For hours. She was saying her best friend's name over and over again. She was saying sorry, begging Marinette to forgive her. At some point she even broke her phone.

And all this time she had an image of Marinette's cold eyes piercing right through hers. Staring right at her, showing her how sad Marinette was at Alya. It wasn't even an image of angry Marinette. Oh no, Alya knew Marinette wasn't angry at them, she accepted that her friends and best friend left her for someone more interesting than her, someone who could offer them more than Marinette possibly could. And that's what made Alya devastated.

But the worst thing about Marinette's eyes was that, they were full of disappointment in her former friends. Especially in her. And she knew why. She abandoned her best friend for some random chick, who claimed she knew Ladybug and some other famous celebrities, even though Alya knew the chances for Liela to actually know these people were lower than Kim's IQ... Let's be honest, he's not that smart. He wanted to race with black panther, that's kinda stupid.

Alya didn't eat that much, if at all. She hasn't been on Ladyblog, since she had deleted interview with Liela. She didn't talk that much. She wasn't her old self. She was heartbroken, to say the least.

And as for Liela, I'm happy to say that she got expelled from school and came back to Italy. So luckily/unfortunately for her , she got away before hate got to her and the whole Paris knew what a filthy liar she is.

And as to Adrien... I don't even know if he was there. But if he was, he probably tried to stop them from this whole drama before Mari came to classroom, knowing damn well what kind of psycho Li(e)la is. So when he saw Marinette being akumatized, he just stared at her, he didn't try to stop it nor did he run out to transform into our friendly Chat Noir.

He was shocked to watch THE Marinette Dupain-Cheng getting akumatized. His sweet, kind friend that he secretly had a little tiny crush on but was too blind to see it himself.

But what scared him the most was her eyes. They were so cold, so emotionless, so elusive, so sweetness and kindness deprived Matinette was known for. Those weren't Marinette's eyes, those were Marinette's shadow eyes; her little dark side he wished to never see.

And as he watched the illuminating, purple aureole around her eyes, he felt like someone sucked out his happiness and live. Wow, now that sounds dramatic. It was just so heartbreaking to watch a girl, who never gives up, finally come to the point where she's done pretending she's fine. He finally saw, that under her bright smile are a whole lot things, responsibilities, problems she has to deal with every day and worries she tries to hide for sake of everyone around her, and Li(e)la thing was just a final straw to make bluenette break down.

And he was so relieved, when she said no, he released a breath he had no idea, he was holding. And when the akuma left the room and Marinette sat down at the back at the class, he shook his head at his ex-friends, shot them a glance full of disappointment and a hint of 'i told you so' and sat at the back of the class too, but in the other desk; he knew Marinette needed some peace and time for herself.

But if he wasn't there when this scene had place, i am sure he refused to talk to his classmates, even Nino, saying that they shouldn't have done that, maybe even telling them he'd known Liela was a liar before this shit has happened. And then again, sat at the back of the class in the other desk.

Either way, he saw the interview and was pissed even more. How did they dare to call my best friend a bully!? (I am so sorry for this 'friend' thing). Even Plagg got a little scared at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, lips shut in a tight line and eyes with raging anger in them.

So later, he decided to see how she was doing and maybe talk a little- i mean, see if she's in danger of getting akumatized again since it's one of his Chat Noir's duties.

And that's how he and Marinette ended up on her balcony, leaning against its railing, both with a cup of hot cocoa in their hands.

"So..." Chat awkwardly asked. He hasn't really thought it through, he just transformed and came to Marinette's house, tapped on the window and asked to meet at the balcony. She did it and also brought two cups of delicious cocoa.

'Get a grip, Adrien!' The superhero thought. 'You save people's lives, yet here you are not able to talk to your best friend!'

He cleared his throat. "How have you been? Since, you know, this almost akumazination thing's happened?" Oh, god, Adrien, you're so awkward.

Marinette giggled a little "I'm doing fine, thank you." She sent him a warm smile and he felt his insides melt.

"Are you sure? After this 'almost akumazination' you seemed pretty exhausted." It was true, after she woke up from trance, she was so tired she almost fell on the floor if she didn't catch herself in time and then she plopped down on her seat looking like she was about to collapse.

She looked at him suspiciously "How can you know? You weren't there."

Shit. "Uhm, you see, I've watched the video! And the interview! Yeah." Chat tried to get himself out of the trap he made himself.

Marinette eyed him again, but decided not to pry. "I'm fine, Chat, really. Ladybug was already here and i told her the same. I really am fine."

The superhero still felt like she wasn't telling him everything, but he decided to let her be and say it when she'll be ready. Instead they fell into a silence. And just as he was about to bid his goodbye, she spoke up again, not lifting her eyes from her Chat Noir cup:

"It just really hurts."

"What?"

"It hurts to know they chose her in the end." she still didn't spare him a glance. "It hurts to know they chose someone, who wasn't there as long as i was, someone they barely knew." At this point she had tears in her eyes, and they were slowly coming up on her rosy cheeks. She finally looked up at him, tears finally cascading down down her face. Her icy eyes finally thawing a little, to show Chat Noir that his everyday Ladybug was still there, just hiding. "It hurts to know they chose her, when i was there always ready to help them."

He hugged her and that was pretty much how they spent the rest of the night.

"It just hurts so fucking much."

#miraculous lb #miraculous angst #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous adrien #akumatized marinette #marichat #miraculous salt #miraculous fandom

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rosesnink · 5 years ago

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The Cursed Heiress, Chapter Four: An Heiress’ Price

A/N: Here we have, another chapter! I worked hard and I’m still working hard for all of this to fit and work. Soon, the chapters will be longer, but worth the read.

Summary: It’s the time of the party garden, but Joanna’s demons don’t seem to want to leave her mind in such a capital day.

TW: Minor character death.

Word Count: 6002

Previously: Prologue | Chapter I I Chapter II | Chapter III

“Joanna, please! I don’t want to d-die! I’ll be good!” The boy cried, bleeding everywhere, the field covered in white snow and the assassin nowhere in sight “I’ll be good, please! Joanna, don’t leave me!” His rosy cheeks were gone, all his skin a deadly white with some blue and purple. Joanna was trying to save him, but her magic failed “Joanna, I’m so sorry, for whatever I have done, I am so so sorry!”

Her forehead was against his, crying, holding his hand as she kissed his face and hands, sobbing and shaking, all her gown covered in blood. His blood.

“You are, Thomas. You are so good. Such a gentle, kind, smart guy. I love you, Thomas!” She cried out, watching his light blue connecting with hers. He was dying. There was no coming back. She had to act. “Let’s play a game, a’ight? Close your eyes and imagine you’re with that friendly dog I promised you” She was now fetching slowly her knife “You’re with them in the beach, playing and he’s licking your face. You are happy”

“You are there. With your strange books and hiding a smile. The dog licks you and you laugh a little.” Joanna’s heart broke entirely.

He was in pure pain, and yet he seemed happy with the image. This was her last chance. She lifted the knife as high as she could, gathering her pain and anger towards the bastard who dared to kill that poor, precious boy just because of some ruse between them. With a scream that made the ground shake, she lowered the knife, showing her beloved some piety with the big pain he was. She felt a thud, and then, she hugged his corpse, her heart falling into a dark, deep abyss.

“Joanna! Wake up! Joanna!” She felt Briar’s voice calling her, and she jumped out of her dream, sweating and with tears. Briar handed her a water goblet and drank it like it were ambrosia itself. “Again that nightmare?”. She nodded “Come here.” She hugged her, her heart was now less heavy.

Briar was still Briar, and Joanna was glad that she existed. The image of him dying in such a violent way… Elias told her that this was Gaius’s doing. He hated them, he killed those who she loved. And he wouldn’t stop until she were dead, but the Mills weren’t martyrs, they were above that ridiculous human facet. They were glorious, honorable warriors. Unlike the idiotic mortals that with some basic street-fight, sword-fighting and dumb pistols that barely hurt her were unstoppable.

She looked around, trying to memorize her mantra when her eyes lied on the mirror… And her heart dropped. There he was, his chest stabbed, his innocent turquoise, teary eyes and stammering something.

“Don’t go, it’s a trap. Don’t trust�� him. He’s the key to your destruction”.

“Joanna? Are you alright?”

She tried to reach him, her voice breaking “Thomas. My Tommy”

He also reached for her as he whispered “Don’t go there. It’s a trap” When she was about to ask him again, he already vanished. Her soul dropped to her feet as she sighed, her heart aching and heavy.

She looked at the concerned Briar as she rubbed her back. She leaned her head in her chest and let her calm Joanna as she closed her eyes and remembered giggling with her mother after an annoying patient left.

You know, Joanna. One of the traditions in the Circle to show your beloved or a family member you’re fond of is giving them a brood of your spirit animal. It shows affection, respect and protects your chosen one of the outside dangers. I was about to give your father one, but you know what happened. Maybe, one day, Thomas will have a panther brood”.

They smiled at Thomas playing with his three-years-old sister a game of chase in giggles.

“Perhaps one day, mama.”

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She broke the embrace as she fetched her hunting clothes “Tell Father and Elias that I’ll be there before the first guest arrives” She went to an empty room, opened a portal and got in.

It was wet, fresh and the floor was wet because of rain. She breathed in as she could hear the faint sound of the tribes living their lives. She knew where to go and was running out of time. She took a deep breath and started running, showing that… she was as fast as a vampire. Huh, in a minute she was there. She saw how a mama panther started feeding two of the bundles as the others were slowly dying. She bowed down to the panther as she told her in a special language for animals that if it was fine for her to adopt one of her broods. She growled light in a positive response and fetched the little brood. It was a beautiful girl, amber eyes and not so black.

“I’ll name you Ella”. She saluted goodbye the panther and threw her a piece of meat before leaving.

When she got back, she bathed Ella and taught her some basics, sweet-talking her to how good her new master was. Then, she started the ritual: a protection spell, an offense spell, a defensive spell and some strength and speed, with some animal wits. She fed her as a recompense for being a good girl and kissed her tiny head. She got her to sleep and waited for Mr. Sinclaire to leave her father’s office. She played with her for a little before she heard the lords bid their goodbyes and she hid the tiny brood in her skirts as she nodded a goodbye to Mr. Sinclaire and smiled at her father.

“Hello, father. Any fun with Mr. Sinclaire?”

He chuckled “The usual” He said as he gathered some papers and put them in a safe place. He looked at her with love and tenderness and her thumb rubbed his hand.

“You know, Mama once told me a tradition of the Circle that showed pure love and affection. She wanted to give you one, but you know, the circumstances…”

He nodded with a pained nod “I still grieve her, yes”.

She called Ella and she jumped into the earl’s arms! He chuckled as the little brood licked his face and meowed him a welcome. He scratched her head and ears as she purred her very tiny body in his lap.

“I knew she’d like you”.

“Why a panther’s brood though?”.

Joanna chuckled “It’s affective. It shows that a piece of me will protect you no matter what, that will help you through hard times and love you unconditionally. Don’t tell me you can say no to this bundle of joy” She teased.

The brood meowed with cute eyes and that convinced the earl. He scratched her little jaw and answered “I accept your gift. Thank you, Joanna”.

“I’ll let you both bond”.

She got out of the office as she saw Elias approach. She smiled at him as a greet and saw an amused smile on his face. He barely smiled and when he did, he was up to something. He looked around and then to he whispered “I got a surprise for you. Some new partner to fight with. Come”

She followed him without understanding until she saw a man: He had black eyes, abundant, long hair and a good complexion. He bowed in respect and she did back “His name is Daniel, he’s a highly trained warrior of the Circle and a big promise to dethrone you from your title of ‘Warrior of the Century’. Go easy on him, he has a sensible heart” He mocked as he left them some space.

“Alright, big guy. Do show me your talents”.

They both in defensive position and he ran fast to her, but not fast enough to duck with a cartwheel and throw him a ball of snow and whistled him to come. She ran towards him, jumped very high and punched him to the point to make a severe hole in the floor. He grunted and punched her in the face, thing that…hurted. She yelped and snarled “That…hurts!” And she punched him twice, dodged one punch and blocked the other, kicked him in the knee and with strength, she hurled him out of the way, ran there fast and casted the air spell that sent him away of prying eyes and she threw him a punch at the same time as him, both of them getting bruised. She growled and jumped again, kicking him four times in the face, neck and head and her legs wrapped around his neck and made a deadly spin that threw them both to the ground. He jabbed her leg, making it crack and grabbed her hair, punching her hard again. She grunted and spitted dark blood and with one hand, she pulled back together her broken leg, cracked the bones of her head and knuckles and casted a fire spell, blasting him with a raging inferno… but did nothing.

It can’t be… He is an equal to me!

She understood she was sort of hurting her own kin and sputtered “We don’t really have to go on. It’s pretty clear we’re equally good”

If Elias said a damn thing about this moment, she’d stab herself before admitting it.

But he didn’t seem to be in the mood, for he grabbed her by the neck and hurled her far away in the forest. She got on her feet fast and yelled “Fine! I see you! You want the big dog defeated? Well, you’ll have to do better than that” She ran towards his direction, jumping on his neck and waist and throwing them both to the floor and punching his shoulder hard, making him grunt and she made a backflip, getting on position and threw him a kick on his waist, making him double faintly, then a spin that drew a high kick on his head and got her body on the ground but her chest and head, throwing him on the floor and she spinned on the floor, grabbing him by the neck and grunted “You’re no match for me” She got up, lifting him up with a super strength out of nowhere and hurled him to a big tree and ran fast, kicked him straight in the inner ribs and made an spectacular needle that sent him flying up to the sky, landing on whatever place it was. She wiped out the blood off her nose and yelled “That happens when you come for a Mills, asshole!”

When she went back to Edgewater, the servants and the Dowager Countess gasped when she saw her granddaughter “Joanna, what happened to you? Your left eye and your cheekbone is purple, not to mention your inner lip is bleeding!” She screamed horrified. Joanna rolled her eyes and got off the servant’s grasp and assured “Give me ten minutes and I shall be a new woman. Just trust me” She got into the house and looked into her room’s mirror and started the healing spell on her face, how the bruises now disappeared. She sighed happy and heard some humming down the hall. She found Miss Parsons there, humming a song happily and she leaned teasingly on the frame, watching her silently, in the shadows.

The way her skirts moved, her hair was caressing the air and her tan skin illuminated the boring white walls amazed Joanna. She smiled as she approached her like a sleathy cat and asked “Enjoying yourself?”.

Miss Parsons gasped as she turned on her heels to see the young lady and mumbled “My lady! I didn’t saw you at all! I was awaiting the Dowager Countess…”.

“I bet my position to this estate that is to do some ladylike things for the garden party” She vowed. Miss Parsons chuckled as a worrisome Dowager Countess got into the house and her jaw dropped when she saw how flawless Joanna looked like now.

“Joanna, you look…” She coughed and composed herself “… like you’re ready to learn some lessons from Miss Parsons”,

“And what lessons could those be?” She muttered mockingly.

“In the garden party you’ll see a lot of dancing. Since you seem to handle the leisure, I summoned Miss Parsons here to teach you some lessons. I even arranged some new shoes for you” She said, proud of herself.

“I don’t like you spending money on me” Joanna protested.

“Don’t worry, dear, it wasn’t a big purchase. Go on, try them!” She encouraged.

She looked between Miss Parsons, her grandmother and the shadow of Elias and sighed, getting off her shoes and tried on her newest shoes “I guess I could learn more of the English culture” She shrugged.

“That’s the spirit! Now, I’ve got some new dances you’ll love!”.

“Go on, by all means”.

And with that, her grandmother excused her and the minutes flied as she learned how to dance a noble English dance. After that, she said she had to do an arrangement and portal-ed some flowers and money to Thomas’s family before she tried on a new pink dress and went to the garden.

Let the party begin, indeed.

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The guests were dancing and chatting, some eating pastries and mingling. Elias was on a secret trip and she was on her own. She spotted her father talking to Mr. Sinclaire (again) and curtsied in greet.

“Father, sir. Don’t you both look… dashing?” She commented to both men.

Her father chuckled as Mr. Sinclaire blushed and sputtered some nonsense before composing himself and answered “I appreciate it, my lady. You look… adequate for the festivities”.

Joanna scoffed mockingly “I’ll pretend I heard you say ‘rather dashing, too’ than… adequate of all adjetives that you could’ve used”

The earl patted her shoulder and asked “Elias told me that the parties and balls are very different where you come from”.

A smile on her face appeared “Indeed! Our musicians play more danceable songs, our dresses are not so tight for our figure and the gardens are far more decorative and full of flowers that you’d never find in years. Our Queen attends every ball and dances with every guest she can, she even sings! Every person can dance with anyone they’d like and all crea- ahem, other people of other kingdoms come to them and mingle, even the servants! I’m sure mama showed you one dance or another”.

“Ah, yes! She taught me that courting dance with a red rose on our mouths and lots of spinning and heel-slam and rather low dips” He gushed. She smiled wide.

“The Rose Petal! That is the most sensual and passionate dance all over this universe. It is danced by literal soulmates. The rose in each of their mouths represent the red thread. Mama taught you that one to say ‘you’re my forever soulmate’.” She beamed at the tale.

Mr. Sinclaire listened closely as he commented “What else you do in parties, rather than shockingly hang out with other people and dance? There must be a purpose to invite such a big number of people”.

She scoffed “Not all is about conspiracies and business, just pure leisure and fun. My city is rather… wild. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow of if we’ll wake up safe, so we just… follow our heart. We also have our own duties, but I assure you, these are different to yours”.

“How so?” He cocked his head to one side.

“We don’t sell poor girls to marriages to men who are way older than them. In fact, marriage is not so important. Both sexes have the same goal: wisdom, glory and sense of duty to their legacies. We can be valid without a husband or a wife, money and titles. Our Queen Amalas came from the dust and greater dangers of the street as a member of dangerous thieves to be chosen royalty. Every century we choose a new monarch”.

Both men’s eyes went wide as they both asked at the same time “You choose your monarch?”.

Joanna giggled as she nodded “Yes! It is a monarch duty to give, help and assist their people more than some random group of rich pricks.”

Mr. Sinclaire was impressed and surprised “Intimate dances, no marriage, equal education, peasants that turn into monarchs… Your city is very odd, my lady.”

She chuckled and teased “You mean… ahead of yours?”.

He sputtered until he recomposed himself “That’s… one way to see it, yes”.

The earl looked between them, amused and commented “I see you both don’t need me anymore. Alas, I’ve seen a… tenant of mine I must do some business”.

And before she could ever stop him, he left. She looked at Mr. Sinclaire and coughed “So… you seem like the kind of man who isn’t very keen of garden parties”.

“It’s not about the party, my lady. It is the leisure”.

“Let me guess… Big crowds annoy you, most people annoy you and dancing and chatting is not your forte?”.

“I- You assume my personality very quickly”.

“It’s all in the actions and body language, sir. One of the first things I was taught: psychology. The way you move your hands, response and stand in the party tells more of you than you can imagine”.

“Psychology? Isn’t that more of… science?”.

“Not at all! More like a literate thing. And some knowledge in human leisure, study of behavior…” She smirked “Didn’t you told me that small talk is not your forte? Well, try beat me at a deep conversation. Unless… you’re scared of a woman who seems to be smarter on these things than you, a man’s kind of conversation topic”. She challenged, a smirk on her face and getting close to him “And I can’t deny that a man who can trap my mind in a deep conversation wakes in me such a passion…” With one finger she caressed the vein of his hand and he shuddered and looked straight to his eyes “That if you can handle my wits”.

“You assume that the nobility is ignorant?”.

“The majority of them, yes. I’m still looking for exceptions. No luck yet”.

He got a step back as he looked at her warily. She never stopped the eye contact, and neither did he. It was the first time she felt in an uncomfortable silence, a calm one. They were still talking with the eyes, no words needed. Until a loud complain of Miss Sutton interrupted them.

“It can’t be! I thought I had it, Mr. Marlcaster! Didn’t you see that?”.

“I did, but it seems like you missed”. Joanna could sense he wanted to hurl himself to the sun, and he couldn’t blame him. Human parties were torturous. Mr. Sinclaire looked at her.

“Have you ever played skittles, Lady Joanna?”.

“I…” Her breath catched as she remembered it.

She concentrated her stick as she bit her lip, trying to hit that damn red ball to win. She felt two familiar hands surrounding her hips and kissing her cheek. She chuckled and leaned to the touch.

“We’re in public, Tommy”.

“Is it forbidden to hug my beautiful fianceé?”.

“No, but we’re making one hell of an spectacle”.

He guided her hands in a position and helped her hit it… and pointed the damn ball! She laughed and kissed Thomas’s cheek. A little blush was over there and Mary chuckled.

“Good game, guys, but those hands to yourself”. And with that, they separated and Thomas giggled. She chuckled and bite her lip, blushing a little.

After the match, they found themselves in the gardens of Thomas’s employer house, kissing and giggling, his hands clumsily moving on her back as hers were on his neck and hair, sighing of happiness.

“Thomas, I—”.

“Shh, don’t worry, Jo. Only when you mean it and you’re ready”.

She nodded and kissed him again.

The garden and all the eyes on her came again as she snapped out of the memory and composed herself.

“… Did. One time, two years ago. Haven’t played much. I do remember the basics though”.

“I’ll let you know, my lady, I haven’t lost in years”. Mr. Sinclaire commented with a smug face.

She scoffed and challenged “I’ll let you know, too… I never lose”.

“Perhaps you can prove me wrong”.

“Oh, sir, that’s my job. Prove smug cocky pricks wrong”.

“This should be very interesting”. He smiled, like a Greek statue and she adjusted her bun.

They both catched positions and Mr. Sinclaire handed Joanna a game ball.

“Ladies first… you do remember how to play, right?”.

She looked at him “This game is awfully simple. I roll the ball down the alleyway and try hit the red pin, yes”.

Mr. Woods set up the game and she took a deep breath as she looked at the game, unconsciously bite her lip and repeated the rest of the rules over her breath

“If you knock it over, you’ll score over every pin I hit. The most points I gather during the five legs, the more chances to win”. She looked at Mr. Sinclaire “Step aside and watch this”.

She turned the focus on the alleyway and calculated for three seconds a half before she aimed to hit the center pin and knock the four legs! She smirks to herself and winks at Mr. Sinclaire.

“I have to admit it was quite impressive, but you haven’t seen the master yet”.

“Hah! Dazzle me indeed!”.

She retrieved the ball across the lawn and handed it to Mr. Sinclaire. Their fingers brush for a moment and she feels a bolt of electricity, but she ignores it. Men… they’re all talk.

Mr. Sinclaire rolls the ball and it rolls and rolls faster until… crash! Eight of the pins fall over, the last one remaining wobbles back and forth, but stays upright. Joanna observes the tactic showing no emotion. Mr. Sinclaire’s smug face stays still “That’s eight points for me”.

Joanna raises an eyebrow “Don’t go ahead yourself, it’s only the first round. What reaction did expect, to be honest? Clap you and praise you? Pah!”.

Mr. Sinclaire got taken aback by her words, but stayed composed.

“You think you can do better?”.

“That shot you’ve seen it’s just a warm up. I’m a master shooting things” She winked at him with an expressionless face and grabbed the ball.

During the next few minutes, as the game comes closer to the end, everyone gathers to see how it might end between some whispers and sushes she can perfectly hear. At least they’re not calling her bastard… for now. She trusted no one in that garden but her father.

“Mr. Marlcaster, oh Mr. Marlcaster! This is so intense I can hardly control my heart palpitations!” Miss Sutton commented.

“… Try, Miss Sutton. There’s not much at stake”.

Is he always a dipshit to her or it’s just bitchy genes?

Miss Bowman agreed “But she’s right! Lady Joanna is winning by two points!”.

Joanna raises an eyebrow to them, wondering if they’d survive seeing her in battle with the rabid werewolves. Those raged creatures always leave her covered in blood and with a very ugly scratches like some wild raccoon. Mr. Sinclaire hands her the skittles ball.

“Last turn, my lady. Make it count”.

“By making it count you mean wiping the floor with your defeat? Oh, I will”.

Before he can answer, she lifts her index finger, making him stop and lines up to strike. She decides to make it more wonderful and her left index finger and thumb makes a silent, blind spell to hit the red pin without effort and looks straight to Mr. Sinclaire, smiling at him seductively. He watches her intently.

She releases the ball… and hits the red pin! All the people clap and Mr. Sinclaire is shocked. She sends him a faint kiss, making him fluster. She smirks “Buena suerte”. She hands him the ball and crosses her arms.

Mr. Sinclaire hurls the ball… but it only grazes far the right one! Joanna tries not to laugh. Ah, she loves putting smug pricks on their places so much.

“What?” He complains.

“Aaand the novice is the victor! You were a nice rival, though, if that helps”.

The crowd around applauds and she smirks at him.

“I may say that you certainly kept me on my toes, my lady”.

“That’s my thing, sir”.

“By any chance you speak Spanish?” He asked curiously.

“Sí, hablo español, French, Prussian, Italian and Native American. I speak also other dead languages and…” She also knew some intergalactic languages and demonic languages, but she scandalized the poor man enough “That’s it”.

Mr. Sinclaire was certainly impressed “You must be quite a fluid speaker of those languages in such a young age and your former rank”.

She shrugged “I’m a quick study”.

“For a woman who thought herself as rusty in skittles, you were quite… impressive”.

“What can I say? I raise in a better way, like a Phoenix”.

“I believe a rematch is in order?” He suggested, a beaming smile on his face.

Joanna chuckled in delight “Eager to see me wiping the floor with your reputation, sir?”.

“I assure you, my lady, my ‘reputation’ won’t be seem damaged. Though I can’t say the same about yours”.

“I can take care of my reputation just fine, sir. Do set the pins! A new game is afoot!”.

But before anyone could react, the dowager countess called Joanna across the lawn. She sighed as she looked at the tall man beside her “Rain check, mayhaps?”.

“My dear Joanna, there you are!” The dowager beamed.

Nefertiti, my Goddess, this better be good.

Her grandmother approached the two of them, and Joanna noticed an older man trailing closely behind her. She raises an eyebrow at them both and shows her usual poker face.

“Joanna, I would like to formally introduce you to the Duke Tristan Richards of Karlington”.

So, that was the old man who seemed unable to find a wife sooner? He better be worth it.

“How do you do, Lady Joanna?”.

She took him in and tried not to grimace.

Is this a punish, my Goddess? Because if it’s the case, you have outdone yourself with me.

The Duke kissed her hand intently, not letting go and she had to fight the instinct to snap his jaw like a wooden stick. Like, really hard.

“Even since your arrival, I have been counting the minutes to finally meet you”.

In that moment, she wanted to hurl herself to the sun and die burnt.

“You Grace… I also looked forward meeting, well, you”. No. Not at all. “My dear lady grandmother talked nothing but—”

“I can only hope my charms and good looks haven’t disappointed”.

“I… your what?”

“In fact” he continued “They sung glorious tales of my good deeds and handsomeness!”.

Oh, if he heard the ‘songs’ of Elias and his heroics and how fast he got in the maid’s bed, he’d be crying in a corner, buried and in Hell.

The Duke tries to pull her close, but she is way stronger than him and remains in her position, shocking both men for a second. The Duke smiles aggressively to Mr. Sinclaire.

“What do you think you are—”

“Lady Joanna, you shouldn’t waste your time among common folk like here Mr. Sinclaire when you deserve so much more!”.

She releases the grab with a small move and her poker faces turns into a wary one “I appreciate your advice, but I’m grown enough to know my worth and who I ‘waste’ my time with. I was not so long ago… what did you said? Common folk?”.

Mr. Sinclaire seemed shocked at the answer but remained composed and the Duke seemed to snap at her, but recomposed himself with a smug smile “But perhaps he may have told you tales of my greatness?”.

If they start gauging their manhoods I’ll cast them a spell to get lost.

“What ‘greatness’ do you refer, Your Grace? I was under impression that all those tales were merely fiction”.

Oof, I’ve seen injures in battles that looked ugly, but that one? That would’ve sent him flying across the damn forest, she thought to herself, trying not to laugh.

“If you think hard enough, sir, I’m sure that something will come to mind”.

Apart of you being such an imbecile?

“Tell me, how is Ledford Park anyway? I haven’t seen it since—”

“It’s better than the last you left, Your Grace. If you will excuse me. Lady Joanna, Dowager Countess… Duke Richards”. And with that, he left.

Joanna turned to Duke Richards and rolled her eyes “If this is the part where everyone expects me to meddle in a gentlemen’s issues… Then, I shall pass of asking anything. You’re both grown enough”.

“Don’t worry. Mr. Sinclaire has never been fond of me. I think he’s jealous”.

“There’s plenty to be envious of! Your good looks, your fortune, good reputation…”.

She raised an eyebrow to the dowager countess but said anything.

“Ah, yes, poor Mr. Sinclaire. He lacks everything I have… I pity the man, honestly”.

Well, I pity you. You’re just a pathetic gramps who cannot accomplish anything by yourself and lacks of personality.

She saw a Royal Guard of Amalas and raised her finger again as she approached him. A Royal Guard would never approach someone if it were anything but serious. He had a message in there and a worrisome gaze.

“Azat. Is something wrong? Is Elias injured?”.

“Worse, ma’am. Much worse. Here, read” He handed her the paper and read the message:

My dear child, I have a very bad news you must know before anything may happen.

I have heard that someone has placed a price upon your head, all based on a prophecy that assures that you may bring destruction to our universe and wants to wipe your blood.

All the kingdoms are now preparing to hunt you down and follow the anonymous leader that remains in the shadows.

I must tell you what I know: you have a power that you’ve started to develop. You are not a mistake, child. You were supposed to born. You have a special, unique bloodline that upholds the greatest power of them all. All the reigns awaited your birth, but there are some conservative creatures that want you made ashes. But you must hold strong and await until it’s safe to come to me and have the real conversation. All the path you are about to cross, it’s all to shape you to be the greatest change that all the creatures have witnessed.

Stay strong, train hard and nurture your wiles. We may seek each other soon.

Yours Sincerely,

Queen Amalas and Holy Voice of the Goddess Nefertiti.

All the world seemed to stop as she processed everything. The voices, how she unconsciously closed the letter so no one could see it, how her grandmother called her to check on her and Duke Richards. Even her Father was there, calling her to come back to reality and the whispers of the crowd. All of that was distant, it all froze.

She was something made up. She was never desired by her mother, she was a duty. And her poor father… he knew all of that? It all made an awful sense: her super-speed, her sudden strength, those belonged to a vampire. But there were already some hybrids of that. And the letter vowed that she was unique in her species.

What the hell I am?

She needed to get out, she needed to think, she needed to breathe. She pushed away all of the people and ran fast, very fast. She found herself of all sudden in the depths of the forest. She looked around, her heart beating fast. Her head was spinning, the world was spinning. She was shaking, her whole body like a bomb reaching its explosion.

Don’t hold back, my child. Do it. Release it.

She parted her arms and screamed as hard as she could, making the whole earth shake and the wind like a raging gale. She dropped on her knees, trying to breathe, her whole body dry and allowed herself to be weak. She’d come back later.

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When she came back to the party, they all behaved like anything happened, but her Father reached her and embraced her tight.

“My child, what happened? You were pale”.

“I’ll tell you later. This is not the place to discuss it”.

He sighed as he rubbed his thumb on her hand and smiled in act of courage.

“Wait in here. I have one surprise”.

He reached a glass and everyone looked at him.

“If I may have everyone’s attention… I’d like to say a few words”. Joanna was puzzled at his words as everyone gathered around her father. “The last year was a rough one. I lost my son, Harry, but within that sorrow, I discovered the existence of my newly-discovered daughter, Lady Joanna”. He smiled as the next words went out of his mouth “We haven’t known each other for long, yet in a short time I see that Edgewater holds a special place in her heart… Her love for these lands reminds me of my own.” He looked straight to her eyes as he dedicated that sentence to her and only her “My darling girl, I know I haven’t been there for you in your childhood and had endured bad things to come to me, but I’d like it to make it up to you”. He smiles widely in what it seems like an announcement “I’d like to announce here and now that I have rewritten my will. When I pass away, and I do hope that it’ll be for years, that the Edgewater state will fall to Lady Joanna Mills of Edgewater!”.

Her mouth dropped as she realized what just happened “That... Would make me an heiress! I—I’m not often left speechless!”.

“Joanna, I hoped for this since the day I sent for you, but I knew the odds were good that prove you unsuitable”.

The countess approached the earl and hissed in his ear “And she has!”.

The earl ignored her as he took Joanna’s hand in his.

“Since our first meeting, you have proven yourself over and over that you are my blood and a suitable heiress of the Edgewater estate”.

“Father, I’ll do everything in my hand to honor you and your legacy. I swear it”.

This was Nefertiti’s will? To be an heiress? No, there must be more. She knew the goddess’s schemes and with a price in her head, she’d be fighting time trial. Her new, flourishing powers, the estate, all those people she met and would meet… it all had a purpose, and she’d discover it soon.

Her father pulled her aside, speaking quietly “I know this goes against your laws in the circle, there is a stipulation I had to make to ensure your destiny. I know it might be too much, but there’s a mortal rule here that for inherit Edgewater, you must marry someone of suitable rank”.

“What? You must be joking! I cannot marry a mortal! It is my duty to marry someone in the Circle! I must be equal with my spouse!”.

“It is the only way to ensure that the estate will be safe and yours. But to help you out... you’ll make your debut in this London season! You’ll be leaving in a few days’ time!”

No… not this. She had to catch her hunter and find a mortal spouse… how the hell would she do that without be disowned or killed?

Whatever her goddess is pretending to do with her, it might be the most difficult quest a witch has ever faced. But she was a Mills. She’d find her destiny and make justice to her mother. Whatever it takes.

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Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @missameliep @hellospunkiebrewster @kamilahsqueen @marlcasters @park-nazario @amomentofsinclairity @princess-geek @lovemychoices @nia-kamilah @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire

#playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #desire and decorum au #supernatural au #ernest sinclaire #duke richards #briar daly #annabelle parsons #the cursed heiress #tw: death

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littlegalerion · 4 years ago

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I said there would probably be more content on here, but then all content went elsewhere. So here, have some Laloriaran and Trechire build up, I guess.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Ah! Young Galerion!��

Trechire tensed upon Valorone’s tone. He was desperate, a very unbecoming thing for a Fighter’s Guild representative. Before her, he and Darien both looked heated and exhausted. Trechire’s chest stung looking upon Darien. The last time she’d seen him so on edge, it had been within the Crystal Tower. Fate had already claimed him then, and sadly Trechire knew that speaking up to him now would only corrupt time itself. She’d seen first hand what comes from that during her fight within the White-Gold Tower, caught between realities. No matter how hard she wanted to say something, she had to bite her tongue. It made the upcoming matter even more frustrating, as she naturally felt inclined to favor Darien due to the pity.

“This knight wants us to forsake our comrades outside this city!” Valorone cried, storming up to Trechire. “Look at this place! Look how many of us are missing!”

“I’m aware,” Trechire mumbled, and went to break some good news, but Darien cut her off.

“Ol’ Trey knows that it’s useless to go out and retrieve our friends if we don’t have a safe base to return to!” he insisted, giving Trechire a look.

“You want us to hide behind these walls?” Valorone pressed. “To leave our comrades to die while you sip wine and lounge about? You have no honor, knight!"

“Don't lecture me about honor, Elf! You have no idea what I've seen or what I've gone through!" Darien snapped back.

“Enough!” Trechire barked, forcing herself not to bare her teeth. Her fangs were one pointless argument away from springing out for joyrun. “We will all go through much worse if we can not keep our heads! Arguing won’t bring back our allies, especially when both sides are of equal value!” She collected herself. “We do need to make sure this city is safe. Call me crazy, but I do not trust the Groundskeeper…” She resisted looking to Darien, memories ripping through her. “But do not forget, my father is among those missing… I know how critical it is for us to retrieve those lost.”

“So what do we do?” Darien demanded.

“If you two had let me speak first, I would have already told you I brought back a new ally! One who can help!” Trechire lectured them. “He and Darien can remain here to secure this city. If you really wish to go charging through Coldharbour to help our allies, then by all means Valorone, you’re welcome to come with me.”

“Yes, Galerion!” Valorone agreed instantly.

“You listen to her just like that?” Darien grumbled. “She’s Mage’s Guild, not Fighter’s Guild.”

“You hardly are one of us either,” Valorone reminded him bitterly. “I would trust my life in the hands of Caafire Galerion’s daughter!”

“Right,” Darien huffed. “So who did you bring?”

“The Last Ayleid King,” Trechire blurted.

Both men stared back her, expressions blank.

Before she could explain, King Laloriaran Dynar entered the hall behind her. He wasted no time whatsoever.

“Attend me, soldiers! We have a war to win and time grows short,” he announced, coming to stand beside Trechire.

Trechire felt her heart skip, blinking up at him. He hardly looked phased by what had transpired only less than an hour ago. His eyes sparkled with magical purpose and keen wit. Yes, this was definitely what they needed to get through this nightmare of a war!

“So that's the last Ayleid, huh?” Darien smirked, crossing his arms. “I thought he'd be more… dusty. Isn't that what happens when Elves get really, really old?”

“Shut up!” Trechire and Valorone snapped at the same time, making Darien jump a little in surprise.

“Who's in charge of this group? Step forward and address me,” King Dynar insisted.

“Their guild leader is gone,” Trechire informed him. “Their numbers are thin.” She gave a cautious glance at them, then back at him. “And quarreling within themselves.”

“Then allow me to rectify that,” King Dynar decided. “I shall lead you. We shall recover your comrades and complete your mission. If that does not work for you, your services are no longer needed.”

“I don't know who you are, but you aren't Fighters Guild. You have no authority over us!" Valorone cried, disgusted by the implication.

“Do you challenge me, then? Do you want me to kill you to prove my combat prowess to your companions?" King Dynar took a step towards him, eyes narrowing as he held the altmer warrior’s gaze.

Trechire stepped between them. “No, but by all means, try to kill me.” Every instinct and lesson she’d been trained and drilled to adhere to among her packs were eating her alive. The King was lucky they were in public, and not somewhere no one could witness an accident. “I didn’t save you just for you to come here and terrify the Fighter’s Guild. Seizing power like this- I was under the impression you were a noble and wise strategist! These people are scared, torn from one another in Molag Bal’s realm! They don’t need a pacifier but they don’t need another source of despair!”

“How can you expect us to lay down our lives for someone we never met?” Valorone put in, coming in to boost Trechire’s side. “Trust is earned on the battlefield!”

King Dynar caught himself, shutting his mouth as he looked between Trechire and Valorone, then to Darien and around the guildhall. “If you want to survive, if you want to win this, you must trust me. Allow me to explain why you need my leadership.” When Trechire’s expression didn’t change, he added, “We shall work this out. I understand your reservations. But with my leadership, the Fighters Guild will help us win this war.”

“Do not disappoint me,” Trechire told him, and felt her face go red when her voice cracked. She gave Valorone a mumbled farewell and good luck, and then hurried towards the door back into the city. She heard King Dynar address the hall, but didn’t catch what he was saying. As she went to slam the door shut behind her, a hand caught her wrist, as well as patiently shut the door instead.

“I do not expect this group to blindly trust me. That would be foolish.” King Dynar released her wrist, having her alone on the doorstep to the guildhall. “I plan to instill them with confidence so that when the others arrive they will follow me without question.”

“That’s your plan?” Trechire snorted.

"For now. I shall speak with each soldier here. Tell them what I think we should do and how we should do it. Perhaps listen to their opinions,” he explained to her. “To rush into battle with no allegiance is to command a unit that is already defeated."

“I understand that,” Trechire told him, keeping herself together. The King had her to himself right now, and he was so close… But of course this wouldn’t have been the first time Trechire had been blinded by a pretty face and ignored the obvious red flags. “But these are not soldiers- these are guild members. They have no loyalty to any kingdom or alliance, but to their own code of honor. It’s all that has kept them together when left leaderless.” She pointed up at him, trying to get him to understand. “You could kill Molag Bal himself and they wouldn’t see you as their leader, if you held no respect for their code. Understood?”

“Yes,” King Dynar assured her. “I apologize… I didn’t mean to come off as ruthless. The situation is dire, and our chances are already so thin.” He offered a smile, and for once it could be seen the wear and tear he was feeling.

“Then tell them that,” Trechire replied, motioning to back within the guildhall. “We have allies that need to be recovered, and I can cover ground while you still get the guild organized.”

“Continue to amass our forces until we have enough troops. Then we meet in council and plan our attack,” he agreed. “The Chasm to the north protects Molag Bal's inner sanctum. We must cross it and confront the Prince if we hope to save Nirn.”

Trechire gave a nod, already feeling her shoulders buckle from the weight. She gave a bow, as it felt right for some reason, and then went to leave back into the city. Again her wrist was grabbed, but gently. King Dynar stopped her, holding up her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I will not disappoint you,” he told her, releasing her after the kiss. “You freed me from centuries of torment. I’ll never forget that, Lady Galerion.”

Trechire brought her hand back, knowing her face was probably the same shade as Red Mounatin’s core right now. “You had better not, your Majesty.” This time Trechire kept her arms about her securely, and hurried back to the giant main doors that lead from the Fighter Guild’s little outskirt into the city. She yipped as fire exploded from the ground, and a shadowy figure burst forth. A black panther leaped out in front of her, fire burning around its paws and eyes as it looked to its mistress expectantly.

“Yes, thank you Eon,” Trechire coughed, too embarrassed to look over her shoulder to see if King Dynar had still been outside to have seen her cry out like a pup. She jumped onto Eon’s saddle and the daedric mount rammed its head into the main doors, spilling into the city like the raging wildfire it was, taking Trechire as far away as possible and back to the problems at hand.

#not even a little ashamed #King Laloriaran Dynar #trechire #elder scrolls online #eso #i need to write them more often #the adventure of laloriaran catching up with social cues and the times #and trechire learning to trust and allow herself to fall in love again #ya know before her heart gets ripped out again to bleed for over ten years

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airis-paris14 · 6 years ago

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The Wedding Pact

A/N: So I wrote something. I love this story. I’m not gonna rush it. I’ll update with inspiration. Just kind of following their story. Hope you enjoy.

Black!Reader x Chadwick Boseman.

Warnings: fluff! Slight angst. Old fashioned mother, father’s threatning bodily harm

Summary: He made a promise. She didn’t expect him to keep it.

“Chadwick Aaron Boseman, why the hell are you at my house at three in the morning.” You hissed. Your best friend of three years sat in the backyard. Less than a foot below you. The two-story cottage style home you lived in was completely silent. Except for you and the teen currently standing on the flowerbed.

“Let’s go for a ride champ,” he shook the keys to his car. ”at 3 in the morning?” You frowned. “No better time than the present.” He Shrugged. “Chadwick, my mother would skin yo black behind for standing in her flowers. My father would roast ya black behind for taking his daughter, at 3 in the morning, out for a joyride.” You chastised. “Y’all got any good barbecue sauce?” He smirked. “Aaron, I don’t understand what that has to do with anything…” you started. “If I’m gonna die. I wanna be the best damn barbecue you ever had champ. ‘Cause you gettin’ in the car.”

“Chadwick,” You whined. “Girl I’m not playing with you. Let’s go. You got ten seconds for I come to grab you out that window. Ten..” he counted. “Damn, let me grab a jacket and my keys.” You waved him off as you shut your window. Even years after moving into the house, you don’t know how you’d convinced your parents to give you the only bedroom on the bottom floor. But the easy access window had become a quick favorite of Chadwick’s. You quickly slipped on house shoes and a light jacket before letting yourself out the front door. Making sure to lock the doors. You jogged over to Chadwick’s car.

“Now where the hell are we going Boseman?” You fussed slipping into the passenger seat. Chadwick just laughed. Shutting the passenger door behind you he walked to the driver's side and pulled off. “I don’t know. Where you wanna go champ.” He shrugged. “First. I don’ told you ‘bout calling me that white ass nickname Aaron.”

“You my champ. My biggest fan, girl. I ain’t never letting you go.” He grinned. “Anyway. You mean to tell me you dragged me out of bed for a joyride. At 3 in the morning. Without a plan?” You frowned. “What else is there to do in this town?” He replied.

“I don’t know. Sleep?” You retorted. “Aww come on champ. Sleep is for the dead. We ain’t dead yet.” He grinned. “Exactly. Yet. Dead is what we will be when you drop me off at my house.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you came champ,” he smiled. The vehicle pulled off onto a side road. Rolling to a stop beside the lake. “Come on,” he grinned. He walked over to help you out of the car. The old door creaking as he pulled it open. Y'all walked over to a partially obscured area of lakeshore. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Chadwick pulled you carefully onto his lap. “Boseman stop it. You know I’m dating Eddie.” You sighed. Trying to push off of his lap. “Yeah yeah. Eddie. Now that’s a white name. You think Chadwick’s white.” He vented.

“Chadwick don’t start,” you sighed. His hold tightening around your waist. “I’m not starting nothing,” he defended, “I’m just stating the facts. We got forever. Ain’t no need to rush. I missed my chance the first time around. Best believe I’m not missing my second.” He vowed. “Whatever boy,” You grinned. “You don’t believe me?” He scoffed. “Fine,” he grinned. He sat up on the table pulling you closer. “Let’s make a deal,” he offered.

“Oh lord. Didn’t we decide your gameshow days were over?” You teased. “Shut up and listen,please. Look. In thirteen years. If we aren’t married or dating. We’ll marry each other.”

Your laugh filled the night air, before you caught a glance at Chadwick’s face. “You’re joking right?” You paused. “No. I’m dead serious.” He frowned. “Chad, you really want to do this?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.” He replied. “But what happens when your career takes off?” You frowned. “What do you mean?” He asked. “When you become famous, we aren’t going to be just a normal couple. You’ve got to think about your image.” You replied. “I can’t think of anything better for my image than marrying the woman I love.”

“How do you know you love me Chad?” You whispered. Fireflies floating around you. “Just trust me. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. I don’t plan on going anywhere soon.”

[13 years later]

“Now are you sure you have everything?” Your mom fretted. “Yes mama. I’m a grown woman.” You smiled pulling her in for a final hug. “I know but you’ll always be my baby,” she sniffed, “Now what hotel are you staying in again? And how are you getting there?”she questioned. Fussing with the tags on your luggage.

“Chadwick is picking me up from the airport,”you started. “The Black Panther?” She teased. “Mama,” you groaned. “I didn’t even know y’all still talked,” she began. “We don’t really, But I took a chance. I called his old number when I got the job.” You explained. “So he’s for sure gonna meet you at the airport?” She asked again. “I don’t want you standing in that Los Angeles airport by yourself.”

“Yes mama,” you sighed. I’ll call him right before boarding to make sure he knows I’m on my way.”

“Fine. Now, what hotel are you staying at again.” Your mother repeated. “I’m not staying at a hotel mama,” you began nervously. “You not staying in one of those air bed and breakfast things are you? You know those things are dangerous in the big city. You know Mildred tried it, couldn’t get any money from it…”

“I’m not staying in an air bnb mama,” you took a deep breath. “I’m staying with Chadwick…”

“Oh no,oh no no no,” she began to fuss. “it’s just until I get my own place mama. Chadwick offered to help me look and save some money.” You tried to reason. While mentally preparing yourself for her lecture. “No no! What did I tell you about keeping house with a man unmarried? I don’t want you shacking up with anyone! It is a sin. I did not raise you to believe shacking up was ok! Now, you know your father and I will send you money to help with…”

“Mama, I got to go. They’re callin’ my flight,” you pretended, grabbing your carry on from the bench behind you. “Girl ain’t nobody calling no flights.” She fussed after you.

“Bye mama,” You waved handing your boarding pass to the TSA officer. “We haven’t finished this conversation young lady.” She warned as you wondered further into the checkpoint.

(Chadwick)

“Are you sure you want to do this man?” Charles asked his friend. Chadwick stood hunched over a glass case. “I never been more sure, and unsure about anything in my life.” Chadwick answered truthfully. “I mean,what? You haven’t seen this girl in years. Now you want to propose to her out of the blue?” He scoffed,leaning against the counter as Chadwick pointed out two engagement rings. “I mean does she even know to expect this? “ Charles added.

“She should.” Chadwick replied, intensely scrutinizing the two rings. “Can you do a display of four to choose from?” Chadwick asked the jeweler. “Should?” Charles snapped him back to reality. “Yes. I hope she does.” Chadwick sighed.

“Is this even the right move for you Chadwick? I mean what about your agent? Have to informed him?” Charles interrogated. “No I haven’t mentioned it to David. But quite frankly it is none of David’s business who I marry.” Chad replied. “Boseman. Come on. We both know that when you get married in this business. Your agent needs to know. He needs to market both of you now. Make sure you both appear together more often. Sell the interviews and stories. Engagements and weddings are big business. Especially if you haven’t been seen out with a girlfriend. And she’s not in the business.”

“I brought you here to help me pick out a ring. Are you just gonna lecture me the whole time?” The actor deadpanned. Charles raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to be a voice of reason.”Charles insisted. “Well trust me. It’ll work out. One way or another.” Chadwick sighed. His phone ringing his pocket. He gestured for the jeweler to speak to Charles as he stepped away. “Hello?”

“Hey Aaron. Just making sure you’re still picking me up from the airport.” Your voice floated through the phone. “Definitely,” Chadwick smiled your words warming him up inside. “We’re on the plane now, should be there in about 3 hours. It’s a non stop to LAX.” You explained. “Perfect. Call me when you land. I’ll meet you at baggage claim ok.” He smiled into the phone. “Great. I can’t wait to see you.” You beamed, your voice showering light through the phone. “He champ,” he called. Trying to catch you before you hang up. “Yeah?”

“You still want one of those simple and elegant weddings?” He asked. “Yeah, why?” You replied. “Nothing just wanting to know if I’m getting my same old champ back. I’ll see you soon.” He smiled. “See you soon.” You replied. Ending the call.

“Change of plans.” Chadwick announced. I want a simple, three stone gold ring. Can I see a solitaire cut, an emerald cut, cushion cut, and a princess cut. Maybe a one stone large halo ring as well if you have one.” The actor requested. The jeweler began searching through his catalogue to pull the various rings for Chadwick. “The phone call provided some inspiration?” Charles teased. “Yeah. Just enough to buy the perfect ring.”

“You’re a crazy man Boseman.” Charles laughed as Chadwick peered over the selection of rings. “That one,” he grinned. The jeweler gently lifted the chosen ring. He handed it to the actor. Waiting patiently. The ring was a beautiful Cartier platinum halo ring. A large square cut diamond sat nestled in the center. A ring of smaller diamonds surrounded the edge and lined the outside of the band.

“So you going all the way in huh?” Charles whistled. Staring at the large diamond in his friend’s hand. “I only plan on having to ask one woman to marry me.” Chadwick reminded. “I’ll take it,” he addressed the jeweler. The man nodded, walking to the back room to size and box the ring.

“So we are really doing this?” Charles sighed. “Yes. I AM really doing this. You didn’t do anything.” Chadwick laughed. “I was here for support.” Charles insisted. “The only thing you were supporting, was me not getting married.”

“Not true. I was also supporting telling David.” Charles reminded. “Why so he could chew me out instead of you?” Chadwick teased. “I mean that’s one benefit. But also because. I just really want you to think this through. But if it will make you happy,” Charles sighed, “then I hope she says yes.”

“Thanks man,” Chadwick grinned. The jeweler interrupted briefly handing Chadwick a Cartier bag and his card. “No problem. Now, have we thought about the proposal?” Charles started. Chadwick laughed, as they pulled off headed for Charles’s house.

(Your POV)

“Hey Aaron. We just landed.” You pulled yourself up out of the cramped seat. Excusing your way over your seatmates you grabbed your luggage from over head. “Great. I’ll see you soon then.” He hung up the phone. “No Aaron, where do you want to meet?” You rushed out, after the line went dead. “It’s nice to know one of us haven’t changed,” you groaned. Waving at the flight attendants, you took your first steps into L.A.

Following the signs, you quickly found your way to the baggage claim. Once your bag slithered it’s way around the conveyor belt, you bent over to grab the bag when a hand lugged it off the belt. Another found it’s way around your waist, pulling you back gently to set the bags in your place. “Aaron!” You grinned turning to jump into his arms.

He pulled you up in the air squeezing you. “My champ finally found her way to the city of Angels.” He teased, setting you gently down on the ground. “I missed you so much,” he admitted. “That’s funny cause you never called Aaron.” You frowned slightly. Chadwick gripped your hand in his. Pulling your large suitcase behind him, and your duffel bag over his shoulder, he lead you out of the busy airport. “I know champ. That’s my fault, and I’m not letting it happen again.” He apologized. “It’ll be hard to ignore me here,” you offered in an attempt to lighten the mood. “For now at least.”

Chadwick grinned. “I’m never letting you go,”he replied, his thoughts flashing to the large diamond ring sitting in his room. “Me neither,” you smiled. . As you reached Chadwick’s car, you noticed paparazzi jump out of their vans and cars. “Aaron,” you whispered slightly unnerved. “Get in the car and lock the door.” He ordered. People with cameras began crowding the car. He quickly ushered you in the car. He shut the door swiftly behind you.

“Chadwick who is this?” One reporter yelled out. “An african American female,” replied. He popped the trunk slinging both of your bags inside. “Is she your girlfriend?” “Did you get secretly engaged?” “Chadwick are you married?”

“Is she pregnant?” Questions flew from every direction as Chadwick climbed into the car. The engine purred to life, and you both pulled away from the madness. You both sat in silence for the first part of the drive. “I’m sorry about that champ,” he apologized. Squeezing your hand on your thigh. “Is it always like that?”you asked.

“Sometimes. Usually they just sit and take pictures from their cars. Today though, everyone had questions.” He explained.

“I’m sorry Aaron,” you admitted, his car pulling off into a nice neighborhood “no one should have to deal with that.” He smiled, “if it’s any consolation, you were a natural.”

“Thank you. I can get used to it. As long as I keep my same old Aaron, You smiled. Running your finger through his coils. “I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled, pulling the car into his driveway.

You broke out into an awestruck grin, staring at the beautiful home before you. “Boseman this is yours?” You exclaimed. “It’s yours now too. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Oh look at Mr. international man of the year. Using his three years of mandatory Spanish.” You teased. Grabbing your duffel bag out of Chadwick’s hand. He shook his head. Shutting the car trunk behind him, he began rolling your suitcase up to the front steps. “Come on let me show you around the house.” You grinned following him inside

Tags: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219

#chadwick x reader #chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x oc #chadwick x oc #chadwick boseman x black!reader #theweddingpactfic #chadapfics

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archetype-online-blog · 6 years ago

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Archetype’s Great Choose Your Own Villain Adventure

You’ve finally done it — you have written an amazing hero.

She has all of your own best traits: kindness, bravery, stubbornness, cute glasses. You don’t know if you want to be her or marry her. Readers will see themselves in her and dress to match her style. Critics will fear her. And best of all, she is wholly, undeniably, ready carrying the weight of your complex plot.

But now you need to craft your antagonist. And this fellow really needs to measure up.

Don’t worry, though—in this post, we’ll break down some of the many tools you can turn to when creating someone to foil your protagonist’s plans.

Just how bad is bad?

A. An Evil Villain? This villain has no morals, or if she does, she buried them deep down a long time ago. She’ll sacrifice her family, friends, and everyone’s free will for eternal beauty, unlimited power, or world domination. Think the Evil Queen from Snow White or Sauron from Lord of the Rings.

B. A Disgruntled Opponent? This villain's had a lifelong streak of bad luck. His parents were killed by someone eerily similar to the hero, global warming flooded his lair last week, and the hero spilled coffee on his pants while saving a cat from a tree this morning. Really, all he wants is a nap—if he has to chain up a few good guys for some peace and quiet, it’s no more than he deserves. Think Luke Castellan from the Percy Jackson series.

C. A Good Person with Questionable Goals? Rational people presented with the same situation won’t always agree, because at the end of the day all people, even equally good people, have different values and morals. If your hero wants to flip the switch and save five people on the train track but your antagonist doesn’t think the one man on the other side should die, you’re probably going for this dynamic. This is Captain America: Civil War through and through.

Just how serious are they?

A. Funny and exaggerated? A villain like this is there to put a wrench in your hero’s plans (and probably provide lots of comic relief), but not seriously threaten anyone with bodily harm. They may think they’re irredeemable and say they couldn’t care less about another person, but they’re either confused or wildly incompetent. Think about it: nobody believes Dr. Doofenshmirtz is going to do anything more than mildly inconvenience them.

B. Menacing and exaggerated? Your villain shoots lasers out of their eyes. Their knuckles are embedded with knives. One whiff of their breath causes paralysis. One word from their mouth has civilians leaping off cliffs. They wear only black, and their evil lair says “Evil Lair” on the front door. They also probably have a lot of henchpeople. Basically, everything about them screams Bad Guy, to the point where it’s definitely not realistic. A good example is Gru from Despicable Me.

C. Spookily realistic to the point of goosebumps? The world is a scary place, and sometimes it’s important to represent that in your work. Antagonists can be made all the worse by the fact that they’re just regular people doing reprehensible, unforgivable things. Think Frollo in Hunchback of Notre Dame or Mother Gothel in Tangled—attempted sexual assault and child abuse are no joke.

Was your antagonist …

A. Brought into being because of the actions of your hero? Some villains might have been a cashier down at the 7-Eleven if it wasn’t for that chance encounter with your hero all those years ago. Now, though, they’ve sworn to get revenge for their slighted pride—stupid heroes and their ego, right? Buddy Pine, AKA Syndrome from The Incredibles, is a great example of this.

B. Morally transformed by a dramatic life event? Sometimes good people do bad things when they’re under a lot of stress, especially if they’ve been traumatized. Have they been forced to make an impossible choice with consequences that haunt them? Tortured because they were good? Watched their family die? Depending on who you ask, the Punisher falls into this category.

C. Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons? Sure, your antagonist stole the diamonds and fired a warning shot at the reception outside the gala, but the real baddie is holding her wife hostage at home. Your hero would have done the same thing—right? Think the origin story of the Hook-Handed Man from A Series of Unfortunate Events, or Killmonger from Black Panther.

On a related note, does your antagonist …

A. Have a history with your hero? In many cases, the protagonist and the antagonist go way back. Maybe they were once friends (this has tons of potential—do they know each other’s weaknesses? Have certain pet peeves they’ve sworn never to exploit?), or maybe they’ve just fought about this issue many times before. Have they dated? Were their parents friends? Think Catra from Netflix’s She-Ra reboot.

B. Fear your hero’s reputation? This antagonist knows your hero is coming, and as much as he tries to deny it, he knows he’s not ready. Maybe there’s a prophecy. Maybe the hero just has a really good PR team. Either way, the villain is going to try to shoot first—and if he misses, he probably won’t get another chance. Voldemort.

C. Have no interest in your hero whatsoever — the hero wants to stop them, but they don’t think the hero is a threat. There’s always a chance, though, that your villain doesn’t even think your hero is worth the time of day. Maybe they’ve heard of him, maybe they haven’t—what does it matter when they’re not going to be stopped either way? This villain feels toward your hero what Irene Adler feels toward Sherlock Holmes—totally unbothered, and maybe occasionally amused.

Other fun questions to ask:

Do they have a sidekick? Why does that sidekick serve them?

Do they have an accent? Is it real or for effect?

Do they have powers? Do they wish they did?

Do they have a color scheme?

Does something dramatic happen every time they come into the room (lightning strikes, mirrors crack, a woman screams, etc.)

If left in the room with a wailing baby, how would they handle it?

If left in the room with a barking dog, would they handle that differently?

What are they afraid of?

Things to be cautious of:

Excusing appalling behavior via redemption.

Some things are just inexcusable—or at least, they should be, if we don’t want to contribute to the negative energy out there in the world. So ask yourself … has your antagonist beaten their wife? Sexually abused someone? Harmed children? Acted extremely racist? Gleefully supported fascism? Brutally killed their own father in cold blood?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, think really carefully before planning a redemption arc.

If you want your villain to turn to the good side by the end, they can still do villainous things. They can lie, they can betray those who are close to them, they can plot world domination, they can even kill. But there are lines you probably can’t let them cross if you don’t want them to be hated by your other characters for all eternity. Let’s put it this way—Aladdin, whose worst crime is stealing bread, is redeemable. Loki, who was supposedly being mind-controlled during the first Avengers film, is questionable. Hannibal Lecter, who eats people, is a lost cause.

A really, really phenomenal example of a villain doing sometimes-okay things and yet not being excused for his misdeeds is Count Olaf from A Series of Unfortunate Events—both the books and the Netflix series. There are genuine, emotional reasons he’s a terrible person, and he even does halfway decent things every once in a while. And yet, he’s not forgiven by the characters or the narrative, and he’s treated as the villain he is until the bitter end. Actually, A Series of Unfortunate Events is great at this all around:

Charles: You have to understand, he had a very terrible childhood. Klaus: I understand. I’m having a very terrible childhood right now.

A less great example is Severus Snape from Harry Potter. When it’s revealed that he loved Lily and occasionally didn’t have it out for Harry by the very end of Deathly Hallows, it’s like the narrative wants us to forget about his bullying, bigotry, attempted genocide, child abuse, pet-murdering, deception, and every other foul thing he gets up to for thousands of pages.

Queer coding. There’s this thing Disney does that you might be familiar with. Let’s pick a few examples and see if you can pinpoint it.

Simba vs. Scar

Hercules vs. Hades

John Smith vs. Governor Ratcliffe

Ariel vs. Ursula

That’s right—male villains tend to be more effeminate and delicate than their tough heroic counterparts, and female villains are hell-bent on corrupting sweet, innocent princesses. Even if the characters themselves aren’t meant to be read as gay—even if they don’t appear gay at all, aside from the coded traits—there’s a history of this being used to reinforce negative stereotypes.

That’s not to say that you can’t have gay villains—make everyone LGBT+, if you want. Goodness knows there are enough straight characters out there to last several lifetimes. But if only the villains are gay, and all the heroes are straight, you’re getting into the dangerous territory of suggesting that the traits that villains have are traits that only gay people have, and vice versa.

The same thing applies to race—if all your antagonists are black or Asian or Jewish or Romani and all your heroes are white, what does that say about how your readers should view good and evil? And if all your villains are disabled or mentally ill and your heroes are able-bodied, might you end up spreading the wrong message?

Writing diverse stories is amazing and so, so worth it! But it’s definitely going to take extra sensitivity and care—so make sure you’re fully committed, or you risk doing more harm than good in the end.

Questions? Concerns? Send us your thoughts at [email protected] or leave us a comment!

#archetypeonline #genre fiction #blog post #antagonists #short stories #young writers #science fiction #fantasy #bad guys #character development

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beatrice-otter · 7 years ago

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Thoughts on Black Panther

First of all, it is AWESOME. Totally awesome, well worth the two hours in the car (there and back) it took to get to the movie theater. Plot bunnies and reactions below.

WTF, King T'Chaka? WTF? How could it POSSIBLY have exposed Wakanda to pick up his nephew Eric? They're already leaving a body behind and having one grown man vanish into thin air! One more person gone won't raise any more fuss. Particularly not if they wait around for a few days and tell the neighbors that Uncle James is taking little Eric to family, now that his dad is dead, or something like that. Or if they thought people might think James/Zuri killed N'Jobu, I'm sure there were other War Dogs they could have brought in to pose as family to pick Eric up. I was expecting that somehow he just didn't KNOW about bb!Eric, but no. I have seen a fic already where T'Chaka brought him back.

Speaking of Eric AUs, I want one where instead of going into the military, he hitchhikes across Africa at age 18 and shows up on their doorstep, angry and one big ball of seething anger, but less hardened than he had become by the time of the movie, and everything comes out THEN.

Eric's thing with his father after taking the Black Panther juice: that was HEARTBREAKING. And N'Jabu's thing of "I should have brought you back home sooner." aaaaaaaaaaaah. I didn't need that heart, no, that's fine, you can just RIP IT FROM MY CHEST, right there.

PRINCESS SHURI, your picture is in the dictionary under the word "awesome." I want fic of her pranking her brother and recording it.

Also, I want fic of her teaching at the center in Oakland. I predict explosions (the good kind) and lots of shenanigans.

Is it wrong of me to want Queen Ramonda/General Okoye fic dealing with both their issues about what happened? They had to have some. I mean, Queen Ramonda's husband died, and then she thought her son died, and Okoye served his killer/successor, even though she HATED it and came back to T'Challa's side when she had a chance. And if one assumes that Okoye and W'Kabi are no longer together, and is grieving too ... that's a GOLD MINE of really angsty plotty fic, right there.

Also, Okoye/W'Kabi fic dealing with what they both did and chose.

And W'Kabi and T'Challa fic. Treason trial for launching the ships once he knew the challenge was still in progress? Or maybe not, given the ... ambiguous nature of things, I bet a good enough lawyer could get him off, or at least a reduced sentence. But that, too, is a GOLD MINE of really angsty plotty fic.

M'BAKU. Please, please, please give me ALL THE FIC about him and his people, for lo, he is awesome. Given his sense of humor, I think that under less fraught circumstances he and Shuri might get along really well, and scare T'Challa. Also M'Baku and T'Challa fic about bringing their people together, or possibly worldbuilding fic about their cultural differences, and if their tribe was the one that DIDN'T join under the king, what would the consequences have been if he'd won the challenge and become king?

Okay, WHERE IS WAKANDA? The map at the beginning sort of implied that it was somewhere in South Sudan. What do their neighbors know about them? what sort of cross-border trading goes on? What about the Wakandans who live outside that shield, the ones who are on display for their neighbors, what sort of lives do they lead?

Please tell me there is fic of various War Dogs across the world and throughout history. Among other things, N'Jobu cannot have been the only one to have a kid while outside in the world. Do War Dogs ever bring home foreign spouses?

Also. Did T'Challa spend time as a War Dog? Is that required for possible claimants to the throne, so that they know what they're protecting Wakanda from? Because that's where my head went when learning that the king's brother was one. Is that, like where he met Nakia? (Is Nakia a War Dog? Or are there TWO branches of spies?)

Speaking of Nakia, we could have so many stories about her adventures fighting bad guys and helping people.I like Nakia/T'Challa, but I have no burning desire to fic them. They were cute together, they had chemistry, but were possibly the least interesting part of the movie for me. Though I am curious as to why they broke up in the first place.

What about that flower? Was ... was that really ALL of it that existed? Please tell me they have seeds somewhere. I was rooting for Nakia to rip a whole plant out from its root and save it to replant somewhere. It makes sense that they would highly restrict it, and have gotten rid of any wild versions out there, but if they don't have more of it, then T'Challa's successor will not be Black Panther, and that would be a huge blow both to Wakanda's heritage and traditions, and also to their ability to keep themselves safe from the outside world now that they are revealing themselves. Also, ONE THREAT and they follow his orders to destroy their sacred flower? That didn't ring true to me.

Perhaps I have read too much Rivers of London lately (is there any such thing?) but when M'Baku revealed that T'Challa had been found by fishermen in the river, I was like, well, SHYEAH, Killmonger said he'd been active in Africa, betcha SOMEWHERE he ran afoul of a River and whatever-that-river-is had heard about it, and decided she didn't like him and was going to tip the scale to keep T'Challa alive so that he might be able to oust Eric?

In conclusion, WAKANDA FOREVER.

comments Comment? http://ift.tt/2ER3gqO

#black panther #marvel #t'challa #shuri #okoye

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tsw-story · 7 years ago

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Chapter 68 - Superstition Ain’t the Way

“I had a feeling this would happen, but I've been too stubborn,” Old Yaga muttered and sighed. She lifted up a glass vial filled with a lime green fluid, and as she stirred it in her grip, it bubbled and steamed. There was certainly something special about her concoction.

“We have to convince them somehow,” Kevin said. “If you really want to help them, you don't deserve to get burned like some kind of monster! Maybe they'll listen to us.”

A pounding echoed out from the door. From outside came a voice they believed to be the woman from earlier—the same snappy attitude. Behind her words were murmurs from others. They couldn't understand what they said, both from distance and a barrier of language, but they assumed the worst.

“Come out, Witch. We have lived with your black magic for long enough!” the woman shouted.

It was Kevin that answered the door. He pushed it open, and made his way out, while Deena followed behind him. He saw faces not of anger from the villagers, but of fear, and concern. The woman leading them stepped back but continued a judgemental glare towards the ginger samurai.

“What proof do you have that this woman is hexing you? Hasn't she told you? She's trying to find a cure for the sickness that plagues this place,” Kevin stated.

“And what proof do you have that she is not lying?” the woman replied back. “The very soil beneath her hut is salted by her dark powers. The animals dare not tread here. Hunting has grown more difficult.”

“That is the sickness, dear,” spoke the witch as she stepped out from her door.

“There she is!” shouted someone in the crowd, and they began to speak with one another in a wave of mumbles.

“A mysterious illness came upon this place,” she continued. “I came to fix it. That is your correlation. You have your cause and effect confused.”

“She lies,” the woman said. “Her words are poison.”

Kevin grew tired of their argument. His breathing quickened, and suddenly, he took a deep inhale through his nostrils to muster up a moment of bravery. He reached out, and he quickly snatched the vial that contained the antidote. With a twist and pull of the cork, he released a plume of mist into the air. It smelled like asparagus.

The crowd gasped. “Don't breath it in!” someone shouted.

“This is the cure she's been working on. It's harmless,” Kevin said, unsure of his own words.

“This is suicide,” the woman said as she approached him. “Do not drink that toxin.”

He stared intently at the vial. His legs trembled with fear. Kevin looked to Deena and old woman behind her, and then back to the crowd with a glare of determination. With one swig, he downed the green substance, and unleashed a deep sigh afterwards.

“Seems fine to me,” he finally said.

“This proves nothing!”

Old Yaga stepped forwards. “There is a dark corruption here. You are not wrong, dear. And I know much of darkness. This is why I am the expert you require to cleanse this place. Without my cure, animals won't come here ever again. Plants will die. Soon, all of you.”

The man they met when they first arrived lowered his torch to the dirt. He walked towards them, looked to his angry companion, but ultimately surrendered. “I have to believe.”

“What?” the woman replied.

“My mother. She is sick. If the Witch can help, then I must listen. Do you have more?”

Old Yaga smiled. “I do, dear. Much more. Your village will be saved, if you only listen.” She turned to Kevin. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Kevin replied. “I knew you were a nice lady. You knew too, right, Deena?”

Deena shook her head. “I thought you were dead for sure.”

“Don't say that!”

Old Yaga's potion worked like a charm. Each villager that drank it was feeling better in less than a day, and more was poured around the area itself. Plants became healthier, animals returned, and nobody was coughing out their lungs. The sun finally rose on the village again, all thanks to an old witch, and two meddling Canadians.

***

Legends say that deep in Germany, if a child wanders too far from home and finds themselves lost in a forest, the bugbear—the boogeyman—will feast on their body. It's a terrifying fate, to be eaten alive, which is why a child would never disobey their parents. For what is worse than meeting the bugbear? But at times, there are worse things than a beast, and they're usually monsters that are even worse.

A boy was hustling along across the rolling hills. His lungs burned, as did his legs. He rested both arms against a nearby tree and panted heavily, yet he could still hear the terrifying roar of the creature that stalked him. It wasn't time to give up, yet his body wouldn't listen.

“You come back here now!” screamed a man, speaking the language of the country.

He wanted to reply to the voice, in some way, but he too busy catching his breath.

“What did I say about coming here, boy?” the man said as he approached. “If you wander too far, the bugbear will eat you. Do you want that? Well, do you?”

He knew how he wanted to answer, but opted not to reply.

“Your father's dead. So as long as you're stuck with me, you're going to do everything I say. I thought that was clear. Maybe I need to give you something that'll remind you. Every time you look at your arms, you'll see. Every time you look at your legs, you'll see. I'll make sure you see.”

The boy backed up against the tree. His eyes turned towards the forest, but it was so dark he could hardly see farther than a few meters. The sun was setting, and he knew being out this late was dangerous. He did still believe in the bugbear.

“I don't... want to go with you,” he whispered.

“What?” the man snapped back. “You don't seem to understand at all. I guess it's time to make you see.”

He leapt forward like a panther, and grabbed the boy by his throat and arm. He heaved him up against the tree with ease, and thrust him against it, digging the bark into his back. The boy thought his breath smelled like the pub he always passed by on the way to school. It was a disgusting smell, he thought.

“I swear. You tempt me to leave you to the wolves,” the man said through gritted teeth.

All of the sudden, a reverberating grumble rolled out from the darkness between the trees. It sent a chill down the boy's spine, and the man stopped. He looked left and right, but ultimately shook his head and continued.

“Just some animals,” he muttered.

But the sound came again, and this time, it was louder. It resembled a bear's roar, but it was far too loud and deep to be coming from even the largest bear, and the noise was coming closer. It came again, and again.

“Shit. Let's get out of here, boy,” he said as he dragged the child behind him.

“Let go of me!”

“Stop struggl—“

The man stopped in his tracks, and his face turned pale. The grip of the child loosened, dropping him to the ground, and with wobbly legs, the man took a few steps backwards as he gazed in awe.

A creature came out from the forest, and it was no ordinary animal. It was a bear, but even on four legs, it stood at over fifteen feet tall. Its fur was dark and mangled, and a pair of black horns protruded from its head. Though passed all of this, it was its glowing red eyes that caused the pair to nearly faint.

It sprinted towards them so quickly that they didn't have the chance to run. However, it stepped right over the boy, and grabbed the man's upper-half within is mouth. After a safe distance from the child, the bugbear flung the man tumbling to the ground and roared.

The child watched from afar, unsure of how to react.

In contrast, the man certainly did. He bolted the opposite direction at such an impressive speed, that he was already disappearing from the child's view. But that only was going to leave him alone with the mythical beast.

“Don't worry. He won't hurt you,” came an unknown voice from behind. It spoke in English, but thankfully, the child knew just enough to understand. He moved his lips to speak, but only air escaped. But he began to calm, because through all of this, a smile was on the stranger's face.

“Who...?” the boy muttered.

“I'm Eldrian,” he said as he held up his phone. “And the police have some questions for your uncle. I don't think you'll be seeing him again.”

Soft steps through the grass preceded a handsome man's entrance. Daveon, with his hands in his pockets, came to stand beside his friend, and he gave a comforting nod to the child.

“You were right, Dav. A day off in Germany was a good idea,” Eldrian said.

“You call this a day off?” Daveon replied with a chuckle.

Eldrian patted the child on his head. “You should run home now. Everything should be fine.”

“Bugbear. Real?” the boy asked.

“Of course he is. We just watched him run away in fear.”

The boy was confused. He was scared. But there was something else in his heart—something he had not felt in a long time. His body was tired, but a light burning inside him pushed him to stand strong. With tears in his eyes, he gave Eldrian a hug, and sprinted off.

A moment passed. It was soon just the two of them, standing in the middle of nowhere in Germany, quite a distance from the nearby town.

“You shouldn't meddle in people's lives,” Daveon said.

Eldrian looked to him. “You aren't happy with what we did?”

“I didn't say that.” He shook his head and paused. “I said you shouldn't. But we shouldn't do a lot of things that we do anyway. Right?”

He grabbed Daveon's shoulder and laughed. “That's right. Now you know what Deena is always mad at me.”

“I wonder what the others are up to.”

“Knowing them, bizarre things.

“I guess we should head back.”

“What time is it here?”

“About nine o'clock.”

“Think any food places are open?”

“It's possible.”

“Let's not head back yet, Dav. Let's get dinner. My treat.”

#adventure #action #serial #story #writing #fiction #fantasy #wizard #wizards #magic

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ceasarslegion · 5 years ago

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Actually, in this house we infodump without prompt.

here we go y’all

Let’s get some context for them first, yeah? The series itself is called Empty Empires, which came from this song I heard at a steampunk event in 2017 and thought it perfectly captured the tone and content of the early drafts I was working on. Because I just didn’t have a name for this story for a full year. Content before names, guys. I’d also want that song to play over the credits in the very slim chance someone wanted to adapt it for the screen.

So on its most basic level, this story’s an allegory for the long-term effects of colonialism and neoliberalism. But in space. Consider humans: imagine a world where we have overcome all possible bigotry and have found a globalized identity in simply being “human.” Systemic racism no longer exists. The wealth gap is a thing of antiquity that kids study in school. At least on Earth Now set it 2000 years in the future, when space exploration is at its peak, human supremacy is rampant, and space colonialism is an ugly reality. Any alien species is classified based on how humanoid they appear, and whether they verbally communicate. The less humanoid you are, and the less verbal communication you can do, the less you are afforded any civil rights and the more you are seen as a lesser species no matter what you bring to the table. That is, if your species isn’t wiped out altogether. IF you marry a human, it’s highly illegal, and the children of that union tend to look like random splices of physical attributes, thus the derogatory term “splicer” was born.

This is set on a colonized planet that was drained of its resources and left to die once it couldn’t produce anything more for Earth’s bigwigs. It’s a total, utter slum. Any semblance of government it had when Earth was overseeing it after driving the planetary natives out fell to street gangs.

So, you have the basic context. Let’s get into these characters!!

Top left is Dennis. In case you couldn’t tell, he’s half human and half alien. His father was a bank teller from Kenya, and his mother was planetary native. However, his parents were killed by the authorities and he was ripped away from them and placed in a “correctional school” when he was around 5 or 6 in order to “save the human half.” His native name and language were stolen from him, and to this day he doesn’t remember either of them. He’s on the more human-looking side of most mixed kids, so his hands are bandaged up because he plucks out the feathers that grow on them and down his arms in an attempt to look more “purely” human. He wears a mask to hide the down feathers that make up his beard and the wolf-like teeth that he has. Sunglasses for the eyes, but nothing can be done about those horns, ears, the claws on his hands and feet, or that thin, fluffy blue tail. He’s actually supposed to have one shattered horn because he tried to saw them off when he was a teenager, but piccrew didn’t have that option. If any of y’all make a homestuck joke about his horn design I will send you to the shadow realm. My plans for him involve heavy Black Panther Party imagery, but I won’t spoil the rest

Top right is Richie. Or Richard Nguyen. He’s our POV character, and an alcoholic con artist. He lives fast, will probably die young, according to him, but he’s here for a good time, not a long one. At least, that’s what he tells himself to get through the day. He works by force for the street gang that basically usurped the government. He’s got a whole lot of demons from the immoral acts he’s committed in the name of his own greed, and wonders whether he’s towing the line between doing this for his survival and loan-sharking more than he actually needs for a bigger payout rather than to keep his bosses off his back. The sorrows that he can’t drown in cheap alcohol he tries to smother in other self-destructive habits, including but not limited to not giving a shit about his personal safety. Also, fun little thing: the writing style changes depending on how drunk or sober he is, because it’s first-person limited, so the information you get depends on how much he actually processes. Poster boy for unreliable narrators tbh

Bottom left is Mary, or Maria Fletcher. She’s a gang leader, but not in the traditional sense. She’s kind of like a robin hood figure leading a group of the fucked over working class that was left in squalor. She came over as a little kid because her parents were resource miners who wanted better opportunity for their kid, but their job ended up killing them without a dollar to show for it. Also, she’s a weapons tech expert with more knowledge of blades and guns and how to mod them than you or I could ever hope to amass in a lifetime. More fun facts: she’s albino, the red scarf symbolizes the blood of the rich and exploitative, and in this house we don’t make a muscular butch woman something to be feminized.

Bottom right is Luke Mons. I’ll give y’all 3 guesses for what that name’s an anagram for. He’s the only one of the bunch who’s ever set foot on Earth, because he was born and raised there. He’s the son of a very wealthy colonizer, and the CEO of a development company. He’s never known an ounce of hardship in his life, and never has to work a day in it, but he does anyway because that money’s not gonna make itself. He’s the closest thing this series has to an antagonist, and is basically the personification of the song “Business Man” by Mother Mother. Minus being old. Luke is young, spry, and thinks the economy is worth a couple of “low-opportunity” lives. After all, they’re only going to drain the economy. You should be thanking him, a better tourism market will stimulate the economy and create a better planet for everyone! I gave him a scythe in piccrew because he’s basically capitalism grim reaper

Some more fun facts:

-the dots and lines and piercing styles you see on everyone’s faces except Luke’s are based on anti-face, which is a hair and makeup style that confuses AI face-recognition software and allows you to bypass a surveillance system. Because this is also a surveillance state. Gotta keep those splicers in line somehow, right?

-Luke was actually born out of someone’s complaints in my first year of uni that I was “forcing diversity” on the readers by having every character main or minor be POC, women, and/or LGBT. Like, buddy... it’s space. In a universe where Earth stopped giving a shit among humans. And I didn’t go through a lifetime of never seeing myself or others represented in fiction to do it again but myself this time. So I made the only straight white cis men the villains out of spite. And wow, Luke’s perfect for the role!

I made the 4 main characters of the sci fi novel series ive been working on since i graduated high school

Hmu if you wanna hear their deals i LOVE infodumping about the story thats basically my baby

#self rb #huhuhuhuhuhuuhu #empty empires tag

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weekendwarriorblog · 6 years ago

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WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND February 22, 2019 - HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON, FIGHTING WITH MY FAMILY

February comes to an end with the Oscars on Sunday and another family sequel hoping to escape the fate of the disappointing The LEGO Movie 2, plus Fighting with My Family becomes the widest WWE Films release since John Cena’s The Marine back in 2006.

Just a reminder that you can read my box office analysis and predictions over at The Beat, as well as my thoughts on Black Panther’s chances at winning a few Oscars this Sunday.

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD (DreamWorks Animation/Universal)

Written and directed by Dean DeBlois (How To Train Your Dragon,How to Train Your Dragon 2) Voice Cast: Jay Baruchel, Gerard Butler, America Ferrara, F. Murray Abraham, Cate Blanchett, Craig Ferguson, Jonah Hill, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Kristen Wiig, Kit Harrington MPAA Rating: PG

A mere three weeks after the animated sequel The LEGO Movie 2disappointed at the box office, DreamWorks Animation returns with its first movie since 2017’s Captain Underpants, as well as the first movie under its new distribution deal with Universal. It’s also the first movie from DreamWorks Animation sans CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg who left after Comcast bought the company after building it up into quite a brand.

It’s pretty amazing that DreamWorks Animation has gone ahead with this threequel after it’s been delayed seemingly for years, but clearly, Universal/Comcast wanted to get its dragons in a row before bringing them back for an epic finale, especially with the company’s mixed success with their last few offerings. (DWA’s 2017 release The Boss Babyactually did quite well, just slightly less than How to Train Your Dragon 2’s domestic gross.)

The good thing going for the latest How to Train Your Dragonis that DreamWorks Animation has been keeping the franchise alive with a number of animated series that have streamed on Netflix, and kids definitely know these characters well. They’ve also been able to bring back almost all of the cast, including Cate Blanchett, Kit Harrington (from “Game of Thrones”) and introducing F. Murray Abraham as a new villain named Grimmel and a new lady “Light Fury” to match with Hiccup’s dragon pal Toothless. This generally should help revive the animated company who has made such an impact in the early ‘00s. So far, reviews have been far better than anyone expected, and Universal wisely gave the movie a Fandango-only screening a few weeks back where it grossed $2.5 million.

Mini-Review: I’ve seen both the previous How to Train Your Dragon movies, and I liked them just fine, but not enough to warrant a rewatch before the third movie is released five years after the previous one. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long to get up to speed at least in terms of figuring out who everyone is, though it does take some time before it gets into gear as far as storytelling.

Things have settled down at Berk, as Hiccup and his pals continue to save dragons from trappers and being them back to their safe haven, but new villain Grimmel (voiced by F. Murray Abraham) who wants to kill the last of the Night Furies aka Hiccup’s own dragon pal Toothless. In order to do so, he uses a white female “Light Fury” as a honey badger to capture the lovelorn dragon, as well as all the other dragons in Berk.

The problem is that there are way too many unfunny human characters and even more dragons that are hard to keep track of. The film begins by throwing so much at the viewer, but not in a good way, and it took a long time for me to be even vaguely interested in what was happening. Surprisingly, Abraham makes for an equally bland villain, especially considering how great he’s been in such a role in movies like Amadeus, but the storytelling is obvious and even corny at times that it begins as a disappointing finale to the epic trilogy.

Granted, this is still an amazing technical achievement with all of the colorful environments and creatures, yet the dragons are generally more interesting than the humans, other than maybe Hiccup and his girlfriend Astrid. The dialogue-free moments between Toothless and his paramour tend to work far better than the attempt at getting laughs using the annoying humans.

Where the film really starts picking up steam is in the last act where the action starts to build to a peak, and we’re finally reminded what made the earlier films so special. In some ways, it’s hard to believe a movie that starts off so grueling and boring manages to deliver enough of a third-act payoff to win the viewer over, and it’s quite an amazing recovery to end the series on a high note.

Rating: 6.5/10

FIGHTING WITH MY FAMILY (MGM)

Written and Directed by Stephen Merchant (co-creator of “The Office” and “Hey, Ladies!”) Cast: Florence Pugh, Jack Lowden, Nick Frost, Lena Headey, Vince Vaughn, Dwayne Johnson MPAA Rating: PG-13

I’ve already written quite a bit about this comedic biopic already between my reviewand my interview with WWE superstar Paige, so I’m not sure how much more I have to say about this film which tells the story of how Paige came to the WWE. Produced by Dwayne Johnson, who also makes a couple appearances in the movie, this is a wonderful film that will definitely appeal to WWE fans, especially those who have been following the Women’s Revolution, but I think it will appeal to others as a fun inspirational story about an outsider making good. The movie opened in New York and L.A. this past weekend, but it will expand nationwide on Friday, and I hope that audience will give it a look, especially with so few strong movies in theaters right now and the box office being so dismal.

LIMITED RELEASES

One of the standouts this weekend is Suzannah Herbert’s doc WRESTLE (Oscilloscope), co-directed by Lauren Belfer, which just won two Hoka Award at the Oxford Film Festival last week, and that’s after winning awards at a number of other festivals. It follows five varsity wrestlers at a small-town Alabama high school who are competing to help take their school to the State Championships, but there’s a lot more at stake than a trophy. Each of the wrestlers has had domestic issues that has made going to college a struggle, and placing in the Championships would give them a chance for scholarships that would make a huge difference in their lives. The movie will open at the Village East Cinemas in New York on Friday with Herbert and Belfer in attendance to discuss this inspirational film. It will then open in L.A. on March 1.

I don’t know much (or actually anything) about the faith-based film RUN THE RACE (Roadside Attractions), hitting select theaters this weekend, but apparently it’s exec. produced by NFL star Tim Tebow and directed by Chris Dowling (Priceless). It involves two brothers dealing with the death of their mother and abandonment by their father as All-State athlete Zach’s hopes of earning a college scholarship are sidelined by an injury. With that, his younger brother David steps up to help get him and his brother out of town to a better future. (Actually, this movie seems to have quite a bit in common with the doc Wrestle.)

Metrograph Pictures makes its debut with its initial release, the French doc The Competition (Le Concours) from filmmaker Claire Simon, marking her first film to get a U.S. theatrical release. It takes a look at the entrance process for the prestigious French film school La Fémis, where hundreds of ambitious filmmakers in all aspects of the craft seek to be taught how to perfect said craft. I have to be honest that as I watched the movie, I didn’t realize it was a doc, because it reminded me of 120 BPM (Beats Per Minute) or The Class, where there was just so much talking and most of it just seemed like pretentious showboating by students trying to impress the entrance panel. In fact, the educators and filmmakers’ reactions to the students is far more interesting, but this only had a few moments that captivated me in its 2-hour running time. You can find out where else it will play after its Metrograph debut Friday on the Official Site.

Opening at the Cinema Village in New York Friday and in L.A. on March 1 is Barry Avrich’s doc Prosecuting Evil: The Extraordinary World of Ben Ferencz, which takes a look at the last surviving prosecutor of the Nuremberg Trial who continues to fight for the law and peace.

Opening in Texas Friday (and expanding to other markets over the coming weeks including even MORE Texas theaters on March 1) is Ty Roberts’ adaptation of Tom Pendleton’s 1966 novel The Iron Orchard (Santa Rita Film Co.), starring Lane Garrison as Jim McNeely, a young man thrown into the brutal world of the West Texas oilfields in 1939, shortly after the Great Depression.

Lastly, there’s Stuart McKenzie and Miranda Harcourt’s adaptation of Margaret Mahy’s novel The Changeover (Vertical), starring Erana James as 16-year-old Laura Chant who lives with her mother (the always wonderful Melanie Lynskey) and four-year-old brother Jacko in a poor suburb of Christchurch, New Zealand and ends up in a supernatural battle with a spirit draining the life out of Jacko. Also starring Tim Spall, it opens in select theaters and On Demand Friday.

LOCAL FESTIVALS

A couple festivals and film series worth nothing is the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Neighboring Scenes: New Latin American Cinema, presented with Cinema Tropical, which will include Belmonte from Uruguay, Carlos Reygadas’ Our Time, and many other films, none of which I’ve seen.

Also, the 22nd New York International Children’s Film Festivalbegins on Friday, running through March 17, opening with the East Coast Premiere of Chiwetel Ejiofor’s directorial debut The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, which will also premiere on Netflix on March 1. The festival will be spread out across the city from the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyin to the IFC Center to the Cinepolis Chelsea, Quad Cinema, SVA Theater and even the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria. You can find out more about the films and schedule on the Official Site.

STREAMING AND CABLE

Fresh from its Sundance premiere, Mark Duplass continues his relationship with Netflix, appearing with Ray Romano in Alex (Blue Jay) Lehmann’s PADDLETON, in which Duplass plays a man diagnosed with terminal cancer who asks his neighbor (Romano) to end his life before he dies from cancer.

This week’s foreign Netflix offering is Elizabeth Vogler’s French film Paris is Us, which involves a woman named Anna who misses her flight to Barcelona, which she misses, which starts her questioning reality and her relationships.

Because HBO is picking up so many great films out of festivals, I’m going to include them here whenever I can. Who knows? Maybe someone at HBO will see this and hook-up with a free HBO Now account. (And I’ll accept free Hulu, Amazon and Showtime accounts and any others while we’re at it, if those companies want to be included.)

One of my favorite films from last year’s Tribeca Film Festival was Madeleine Sackler’s O.G. starring Jeffrey Wright (who won an award for his acting) as former gangleader and lifelong inmate Louis, who is coming to the end of his 24-year sentence, when he takes the younger Beecher (Theothus Carter) under his wing, trying to keep him from him following the same downwards path he took. You can read more about my thoughts on the movie in my Tribeca Film Festival diary. O.G. will premiere on HBO this Saturday.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

Produced by David O. Selznick concludes this week with screenings of The Third Man, Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellbound and one last screening of Rebecca, plus the Metrograph’s Valentine’s Day offerings continue, including Casablanca (1942) and Heaven Can Wait (1943). Late Nites at Metrograph is the Anime Ghost in the Shell (1995) and the Playtime: Family Matinees is Disney-Pixar’s Oscar-winning Inside Out (2015)

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

The Goldblum Variations concludes with screenings of The Life Aquatic of Steven Zissou (Thurs.), Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Fri.) and Earth Girls are Easy, but there’s also the week-long New York premiere of the 2k restoration of Joan (Hester Street) Silver’s 1977 movie Between the Lines (Cohen Film Collection), also starring Goldblum, along with John Heard, Lindsay Crouse and more.

THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):

Another busy weekend at Tarantino’s repertory theater with a number of Burt Reynolds double features, Hooper (1978)and Physical Evidence (1989) on Weds. and Thurs, plus his 1977 movies Smokey and the Bandit and Semi-Tough on Friday and Saturday. This weekend’s midnight movies are Tarantino’s Oscar-winning Pulp Fiction on Friday and the 1972 concert film Fillmore on Saturday. The Kiddee Matinee of the weekend is Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis’ 3-Ring Circus (1954), and then Sunday and Monday, there’s a double feature of Sandra Dee’s Gidget (1959) and Dick Clark’s Because they’re Young (1960). The Monday Matinee is Bill Duke’s 1992 thriller Deep Cover, starring Laurence Fishburne and Jeff Goldblum, and Tuesday night’s Grindhouse offering is Burt Reynolds’ 1987 movie Malone and his 1986 film Heat. (All that Burt Reynodls movies makes me want to live in L.A.!)

FILM FORUM (NYC):

The downtown rep theater presents the 5 ½-hour version of Bernardo Bertolluci’s 1976 drama 1900, which will be shown in two parts, and this weekend’s Film Forum Jr. is the 1953 sci-fi thriller The War of the Worlds in a new 4k restoration.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

The Egyptian screens Death in Venice (1971) on Thursday, as part of the Luchino Visconti: Cinematic Nobility series.

AERO (LA):

On Saturday night, the Aero is screening a triple feature of Don Coscarelli’s Phantasm (1979) – with Coscarelli and producer Paul Pepperman in attendance -- along with Three O’Clock High (1987) and 10 to Midnight (1983), as part of its Cinematic Void 2019 series. Otherwise, the theater seems to be playing Jean-Luc Godard’s The Image Bookaround the clock.

IFC CENTER (NYC)

Waverly Midnights: The Feds continues with John Woo’s Face/Off (1997), starring John Travolta and Nicolas Cage, Weekend Classics: Early Godard will screen the classic Band of Outsiders (1964) Friday through Sunday, while Late Night Favorites will once again show Ridley Scott’s Alien. (It really IS a Late Night Favorite!)

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART (LA):

On Friday at Midnight, the Nuart will show Panos Cosmatos’ Mandy, starring Nicolas Cage.

FILM SOCIETY OF LINCOLN CENTER(NYC):

Sergey Bondarchuk’s epic 1968 film War and Peace continues to run (in four installments) through Thursday.

BAM CINEMATEK (NYC):

Starting Friday, BAM starts its ten-day Living with the Dead: The Films of George Romero, commemorating the life and career of one of the greatest horror filmmakers of all time, the late George Romero. It will be held together by a new 2K restoration of his 1968 film Night of the Living Dead, which will screen Friday night, Saturday afternoon and on Feb. 28. Other movies in the series include Dawn of the Dead (1978), Day of the Dead (1985), The Crazies (1973), Monkey Shinesand some of Romero’s newer films. The series will also have special guests like Romero’s daughter Tina Romero and producer Richard Rubenstein over the course of the series.

MOMA (NYC):

Modern Matinees: Sir Sidney Poitier offers Norman Jewison’s In the Heat of the Night (1967) on Weds, Blackboard Jungle (1955) on Thurs and Stanley Kramer’s The Defiant Ones (1958) on Friday.

That’s it for this week… next week, Tyler Perry’s Madea is back in Tyler Perry’s A Madea Family Funeral, presumably the last Madea movie ever… be afraid and glad at the same time! Also, Neil Jordan returns with the psychological thriller Greta.

#WhatToWatchThisWeekend HowToTrainYourDragon FightingWithMyFamily Movies Review TheHiddenWorld

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femmelieutenant-a-blog · 8 years ago

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REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. @judgmentcast TAGGING. Guys, this one is HELLA LONG. Have fun if you want, but I don’t blame you if you don’t. It’s open to all.

BASICS.

FULL NAME : First Lieutenant Helga Katrina Sinclair NICKNAME : Lieutenant, Sinclair, Blondie, H. K. Sinclair, H. K. AGE : Twenty-nine BIRTHDAY : October 24, 1884 ETHNIC GROUP : Caucasian. NATIONALITY : American (Identifies as German-American) LANGUAGE / S : German, English, Japanese, Korean, Italian, French SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Closeted Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Closeted Biromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Widowed/Single (But technically verse dependent) CLASS : Working class. HOME TOWN / AREA : Stuttgart, Germany. Also will answer with Washington D.C., USA. CURRENT HOME : Verse dependent, but mostly she just moves around and does not stay in one area. PROFESSION : Verse dependent; Army lieutenant, spy, bounty hunter, assassin, mercenary

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Blonde EYES : Gunmetal blue NOSE : slender, relatively small, upturned at the end. FACE : High cheekbones, square jaw. There is a beauty mark beneath her left eye (her left, not yours). Moderate sized forehead. LIPS : Full, well-proportioned to her face, often painted red with lipstick without care to the social meaning of it. COMPLEXION : Fair with olive undertones. Not translucent thanks to plenty of healthy sun exposure. Clear and not splotchy. BLEMISHES : The aforementioned beauty mark. SCARS : Scarred knuckles from years of hand-to-hand combat training, a couple superficial ones to the rest of her body (Major scars were healed/rectified by her exposure to Atlantean magick) TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′7″ WEIGHT : 150 lbs. BUILD : Curvy hourglass built and sculpted through exercise and activity. Tall for her sex (during her era). Otherwise, lean, muscular, slightly angular from aforementioned sculpting. FEATURES : Almost perpetually narrowed eyes, boldly painted lips, the mark beneath her eye. Her constantly-worn gloves. ALLERGIES : None USUAL HAIR STYLE : Worn in a braided plait, the end often partially over her shoulder from it being absently played with. USUAL FACE LOOK : Eyes are hooded, giving her a bored but watchful expression, The pout of her lips is subconscious, but often hidden by an authoritative scowl or scheming smirk. USUAL CLOTHING : (When not in the military uniform of whoever she is working for) black turtleneck/button-up men’s shirt/tank top, pants (Men’s and often tailored until women’s become available), boots. She has an old Army greatcoat that will be worn until it dies of sheer old age, and wears a utility belt and gun holster. (Exception is in Modern verses, where she will dress as per the common fashions to better blend in.)

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Failure, abandonment, being alone, being wrong. ASPIRATION / S : To try and find meaning and purpose in independence, to rise from her ashes. POSITIVE TRAITS : Ambitious, observant, proud, intuitive, intelligent, active, eager, clean NEGATIVE TRAITS : Sarcastic, spiteful, manipulative, loner, bossy, follower, dependent, distrustful, cynical, paranoid, fearful, bitter, skeptical MBTI : ESTJ; The Executive (Surprised because I always had her as INTJ...) ZODIAC : Scorpio TEMPERAMENT : Brash. SOUL TYPE / S : Performer/Leader ANIMALS : A cat - a white Persian in the lap of someone pulling strings she merely watches over the actions of. She can be complacent, but beware of her claws. A panther - deadly and sleek with little care as to who gets hurt to get to her end-goal. This is the transformation she has made. VICE HABIT / S : Drinking, the occasional smoking, finding pleasure in the Flesh and material. FAITH : Athiest. GHOSTS ? : No AFTERLIFE ? : None at all REINCARNATION ? : Nope. ALIENS ? : On the fence, purely because she saw some things in Atlantis that just cannot be explained. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : Doesn’t care about politics or political workings so long as there are people against them willing to give her a job, or the people in power desire her services to take down the rebellious. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Luxuriously wealthy SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : Part of the working class, but financially sound. EDUCATION LEVEL : Homeschooled as per the norms of a socialite’s daughter, but she benefits from extensive military training both from the American Army and Navy.

FAMILY. FATHER : Major Alexander Sinclair (father) MOTHER : Mrs. Marianne Sinclair (Formerly Stroh) (mother) SIBLINGS : All younger: Johnathan Sinclair, James Sinclair, William Sinclair, Oliver Sinclair, Thomas Sinclair EXTENDED FAMILY : Aunts and uncles from both parents NAME MEANING / S : Helga: Holy or Blessed; Sinclair: Bright, Clear. (I appreciate this irony) HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : One of the first famous connections is the Princess of Kiev, also known as Olga of Kiev of Saint Olga. Sinclair is of the Clan Sinclair, which helped in the Norman conquest of England and was given the land that is now Roslin, Midlothian in Scotland.

FAVOURITES. BOOK : 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne. She loved it as a child. MOVIE : Once films were made, Casablanca. 5 SONGS : Mein Sohn Nur Mut - Carl Maria von Weber; Night on Bald Mountain - Modest Mussorgsky; Por Una Cabeza - Gardel; Killer Queen - Queen; Bat Out Of Hell - Meat Loaf DEITY : She always found Athena and Freya interesting to read on, but is not religious, so holds them in no regards. HOLIDAY : New Years MONTH : It used to be May (until someone had to die). Now it’s September SEASON : Summer PLACE : None WEATHER : The middle of a raging thunderstorm SOUND : Waves lapping against a stone breaker, the crackle of a fire in the hearth, the metallic click of bullets loading into their chambers and a pistol’s hammer being pulled back, heeled boots running on wet cobblestones, a bed-frame’s creaks of protest. SCENT / S : Leather, steel, gunpowder, salt air, vanilla, musk, new rope, old books, whiskey, coffee, canvas. TASTE / S : Rich dark chocolate, red wine, whiskey, umeboshi, black coffee. FEEL / S : Silk against skin, rope against skin, quality leather, a firm grip. ANIMAL / S : Big dogs NUMBER : No preference. COLOUR : Olive green, black, gold, red, steely gray.

EXTRA. TALENTS : Helga is a skilled commander and leader when given the chance to be such. She speaks many languages, and has years of opera training to her name as well. BAD AT : Almost any artistic expression save singing, horseback riding, judging character, resisiting tempation TURN ONS : Power, dominant personalities, charm, intelligence, danger TURN OFFS : Bombast, sexism, weakness HOBBIES : Singing, antique firearms collecting TROPES : (ALL FROM THE TV TROPES SITE) Badass Longcoat, Contralto of Danger, Dark Action Girl, Deadpan Snarker, The Dog Bites Back, The Dragon, Femme Fatale, Flare Gun, Heel-Face Door-Slam (I like to contest this one), Kick Chick, Last Breath Bullet, Nothing Personal, Perpetual Frowner, Right-Hand Cat, Redemption Equals Death, Sexophone, TankTop Tomboy, Thrown From The Zeppelin, Wai-fu AESTHETIC TAGS : Mausers, leather gloves, smoke, WWI, steampunk landscapes, red lipstick, femme fatale GPOY QUOTES : I don’t know what this means...

FC INFO. MAIN FC / S : Rachael Taylor ALT FC / S : N/A. OLDER FC / S : N/A. YOUNGER FC / S : Maddie Hasson (specifically as Jo Masterson) VOICE CLAIM / S : Claudia Christian, Karen Souza (for singing_ GENDERBENT FC / S : N/A.

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : Well, technically, she has a film. Though to be fair, I would make the whole thing longer, less PG, way more of a war film with Lovecraftian/Steampunk overtones than what we got.

Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : German opera, steampunk instrumentals... Hans Zimmer. Maybe some prog-rock bits a la Savatage?

Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I loved Atlantis and Helga as a kid, so that has always been there. But while I was in the finals days of a fandom that didn’t care if I existed, I watched the film and we just... clicked.

Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4: She was unlike any film heroine that I had seen before then (I was 8). She was sarcastic and kick-ass and not genuinely good. She was active and suffered real consequences in her story. May or may not have also found her hot.

Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : As someone who likes to think of themselves as morally upstanding, the fact she tends to give so few shits about others

Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : The snark. that is all.

Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : I’m one of those stupid artsy types.

Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : Joseph Korso, Gerge Armstrong Custer, Prince Adam (The Beast), Jacob Frye, Haytham Kenway, Judge Claude Frollo, Kent Mansley, Dean McCoppin, Charles Emmerson Winchester III, Prince Hans Westergaard, and there are many more but those stick out the most to me for their dynamics.

Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : Honestly? Her compelling nature as a character. I don’t really have to look to an outside source to be inspired.

Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : HOURS

#⚙‖ 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕆𝕗 𝕄𝕖 (Headcanon)

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theconservativebrief · 6 years ago

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Ryan Coogler’s Creed, the 2015 film that unexpectedly made the Rocky franchise great again, worked so well because it knew exactly when to celebrate and when to subvert the Rocky formula.

Casting the great star-in-the-making Michael B. Jordan as Adonis “Donnie” Johnson, the son of Rocky’s Apollo Creed — whom the heavyweight champ Rocky Balboa got his million-to-one shot against in the 1976 original, before the two became friends in later films — was a smart way to replicate Rocky’s rise-and-fall-of-a-boxer story arc. It also allowed Creed to shed the weird detritus that the Rocky franchise had accumulated over the previous four decades (like that robot).

And as if that wasn’t enough, Coogler made the world aware of how great Tessa Thompson (who plays the film’s love interest) is and gave Sylvester Stallone (Rocky himself) his best role since the 1990s — while simultaneously announcing himself as one of the most promising directors of his generation. He shot Creed’s fight sequences with a balletic grace, and imbued the film’s interpersonal scenes with just as much heart and heft (before delivering on his potential with the impressive follow-up project of 2018’s absolutely massive hit Black Panther).

What makes Creed II just a little disappointing, then, is the way it simply becomes another Rocky movie. Where the first film meditated on the legacies that black fathers leave for their sons, on the notions of aging and mortality, and on what it means to build a name for yourself that distinguishes you from your parents, the second film is mostly concerned with who wins boxing matches. It pillages Rocky history wholesale, becoming a kind of remix of two of the other movies in the franchise.

And yet … the reason there are so many Rocky movies is that their base formula still works. Creed II might not be the near-perfect movie its predecessor was, but it’s still pretty good. Let’s examine the recipe that went into making this film.

Donnie and Bianca have a child, thus batting for the Rocky II cycle. MGM

If you know anything about the plot of Creed II — and the Rocky franchise in general — you’ll probably expect the film to follow in the footsteps of Rocky IV. And it does, pitting Donnie against the son of Ivan Drago, the man who killed Apollo. (We’ll get into this plot point in more detail in just a moment.)

But what holds Creed II together isn’t the conflict with Drago. Instead, it’s Donnie’s attempt to figure out what his life might look like without boxing. He and Bianca (Thompson) get engaged. They discover she’s pregnant. They move to Los Angeles to be closer to his mom (the great Phylicia Rashad). And when Donnie encounters a setback that makes him hesitant to return to the ring, the movie enters a surprisingly powerful stretch that just lets Jordan work through his emotions, trying to process the traumatic things that have happened to him.

It’s a reminder that this franchise has always been at its best when it pairs smaller-scale stories of its characters just trying to live their lives with the spectacle of the big boxing matches. It’s also a welcome chance to give Thompson and Rashad more to do than Creed offered — accounting for Creed II’s one unambiguous improvement over the original film.

But astute Rocky scholars will recognize this story as largely a soft reboot of the plot of Rocky II (one of the less discussed Rocky sequels, perhaps because it doesn’t feature a memorable “villain”). Like Rocky II, Creed II replaces a great director (Coogler on Creed; John Avildsen on Rocky) with a serviceable one (Steven Caple Jr. here; Stallone himself on Rocky II), and it compensates for a retread of a story with ever grander mythmaking. (At one point, Donnie retreats to the desert for a massive training montage that asks, “You already know Michael B. Jordan is buff. But what if he were more buff?”)

Even in the particulars of their plots, Creed II and Rocky II have a lot in common: the main character having to step away from boxing for a long time before finally dragging himself back to the ring for the climactic rematch; the coupling up; the baby being born.

And just like Rocky II, Creed II is a pretty good follow-up to a great predecessor.

The Dragos come to Philly. MGM

But, okay, there’s a lot of Rocky IV in this movie!

By far the most ridiculous of the Rocky films, Rocky IV sends the mumblemouthed boxer into the Soviet Union to avenge the death of Apollo, who died in a match against Ivan Drago, the Russian monolith of a man played by Dolph Lundgren. Rocky was Apollo’s trainer and failed to call the fight when he saw his boxer was ailing, so it’s a mission of both redemption and revenge. By the end of the film, Rocky has more or less won the Cold War.

Rocky IV is kind of awesome, in that cheesy ’80s way, but its tone could not be more different from the more realistic tone of the Creed movies. So the choice to incorporate Drago, his son Viktor, and a vision of post-Soviet Russia that mostly seems drawn from watching ’80s movies feels like a dangerous gamble on the part of Creed II screenwriters Stallone and Juel Taylor.

What saves this story from feeling like a total misfire is the script’s willingness to scramble your emotional investment. The Dragos were completely tossed out of Russian society and have had to live a hardscrabble life on the fringes of that world; Viktor is a massive wall of a man because it’s the only thing he knows how to be. (In contrast, Donnie had some degree of economic security once he learned who his father was.)

Don’t get me wrong. Neither Caple nor Creed II’s screenwriters seem to realize just how sympathetic they’ve made the Dragos, especially in a climactic fight that hinges on the relationship between father and son in a way that doesn’t wholly work. And pivoting from the intimacy of Creed to a generation-spanning family epic straight out of a potboiler novel is just a weird call all around. (So is the way Ivan keeps saying variations on “break him,” because everybody remembers him saying “I must break you” in Rocky IV.) But it could have been worse.

Stallone and Jordan still have potent chemistry. MGM

One reason Creed II manages to avoid totally losing itself in Rocky lore is simple: It’s still rooted in a movie that took its characters and their emotional complexities seriously. The sequel struggles to find anything for Rocky to do that’s as compelling as what he experienced in Creed, but it can still coast on the power of Stallone’s cragged face, tumbling off his skull like rocks from a mountain.

Similarly, there’s really no good reason for Creed II to busy itself with a brief conflict between Donnie and Rocky that seems to exist just to make the movie longer, but Jordan and Stallone built up such goodwill with Creed that I accepted it until I realized it was simply marking time. The sequel clearly recognizes how potent the chemistry between Jordan and Thompson is, and goes all in on it.

There are worrying signs in Creed II that a potential Creed III might abandon any semblance of ties to our reality, and its inability to meaningfully connect a story where Donnie becomes a father to the preceding film where he struggled under the burden of never knowing his own is a touch surprising.

And that’s to say nothing of Caple, who films Creed II’s fight scenes with a blunt, visceral quality that appeals but makes most of the movie’s smaller scenes feel a little perfunctory, as if he were checking shots off a list. Particularly egregious in this regard is a scene where Donnie’s mother figures out that Bianca is pregnant before she does, after his mom simply says that Bianca looks pregnant, even though we never see a hint of why she might think so. (Caple even botches a great little bit of physical comedy from Thompson that closes the scene!)

But I really loved Creed, and just enough of that movie’s spark carried over to its sequel to keep me invested.

In the end, what most prevents Creed II from being better is the way everything that happens in the Rocky universe primarily concerns the same handful of families — to the degree that when Donnie needs a new trainer in LA (after Rocky stays behind in Philly), he hires the son of Apollo’s old trainer. It’s ludicrous!

And it makes the movie feel a little like one of those primetime TV soap operas that indulge in wild fancies in the name of entertaining us. There are a couple of scenes involving the Drago family saga that made me howl, and their silliness felt half-intentional on the part of Creed II’s filmmakers, like they were daring the audience to take the scenes seriously because they knew how ridiculous it was.

This kind of hurts the movie’s attempt to establish the identity of the Creed franchise as something distinct from the Rocky franchise. But hey, even the stupidest Rocky movies are a lot of fun.

Gotta have a montage. MGM

The little-seen, not-that-bad 2006 Rocky Balboa — in which Rocky hauls himself back into the ring because the TV all but dares him to, while examining his relationship with his son (Milo Ventimiglia) — was not a movie whose themes I expected to ever appear in the Creed franchise. But there it is, winking at you in a handful of scenes, prodding you to wonder if Ventimiglia might take a day off from This Is Us to film a quick cameo.

I won’t reveal whether he did, but this tiny leavening agent is what ultimately reveals that Creed II’s heart is always in the right place, even when its brain isn’t. It’s a movie about how families are complicated legacies of their own, long continuations of stories we don’t always understand or appreciate as we’re living them, and how sometimes, time runs out unexpectedly. It is, in its own, weird way, a great Thanksgiving movie.

Creed II is playing in theaters everywhere.

Original Source -> Creed II is no Creed. But it’s a pretty good Rocky sequel.

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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