#East German movie posters

[illustraction]

MR. KLEIN (1976) - ALAIN DELON MOVIE POSTERS (Part 8/20)

One of ALAIN DELON's best ever dramatic roles in this WW2 Shoah related drama

Above are original movie posters from East Germany, Italy and Japan (click on each image for details)

Director: Joseph Losey Actors: Alain Delon, Jeanne Moreau

ALL OUR ALAIN DELON POSTERS ARE HERE

If you like this entry, check the other 19 parts of this week’s Blog as well as our Blog Archives

All our NEW POSTERS are here All our ON SALE posters are here

The posters above courtesy of ILLUSTRACTION GALLERY

[movie--posters]

[roguesynapses]

I recognize that url.

Sinneslochen was a West German software company made up of immigrants and refugees from East Germany and other Eastern Bloc states does not exist and never existed.

Sinneslochen primarily did outsource labor for larger European and American companies in the late 1970s and early 1980s, much of which involved German versions of office software and bugchecking/fixing was part of an elaborate hoax made by Kurt Koller, owner of the arcade game archiving website coinop.org.

Polybius was Sinneslochen's first video game, utilizing the profits generated from their outsourced work to make a puzzle-action "thinking game" game featuring an advanced hardware suite, simulating vector graphics on a raster display, allowing for increased backgrounds. The game was directed by Dr. Ygor Euspanese, a Ukrainian computer scientist. was a viral hoax created in the early 2000s, describing an early 1980s video game that supposedly caused headaches and other negative side affects in players, and was watched by US federal agents, before disappearing entirely.

Polybius was sent to several test markets in the USA, especially in the Pacific Northwest. Those who played the game near universally reported headaches and difficulty focusing for hours afterwards, with some players who got farther into the game reporting extremely disturbing "nightmares", seizures, and even limited precognition for a period of time. Reportedly, gameplay sessions and machines were monitored by NSA and DIA agents, with some players who made several levels into the game being interviewed by said agents and never returning. never existed. It was a hoax created by Kurt Koller to increase traffic to coinop.org, gaining popularity after appearing in an issue of Game Informer magazine.

Ygor Euspanese, PhD, emigrated to the United States following the test release and subsequent abandonment of Polybius, along with several Sinneslochen programmers. Several former Sinneslochen employees testify that Dr. Euspanese insisted on creating the game, pressuring the other staff of Sinneslochen to abandon other projects and engage in the game fully. They state that Dr. Euspanese had an almost manic obsession with the idea of ESP and "psychic abilities", and made the game in an effort to unlock the "psychic potential" of players. Nearly all of Sinneslochen's capital was spent on creating approximately 15 test cabinets, and with no ability to find a publisher and the departure of Euspanese and other programming staff, Sinneslochen was forced to dissolve in early 1982. The whereabouts of Euspanese after arriving in the US are currently unknown, though it is rumored he and his staff have been working on several US Government black projects is an anagram of Rogue Synapse, an amateur game developer who has a passion for making fan recreations of games that have appeared in popular movies and other media. He made a fangame of Polybius in the early 2010s. It is also the name of a very minor poster on tumblr, with several unoriginal ideas.

Polybius is highly sought after by arcade enthusiast and several local police authorities, as it is supposedly linked to several unexplained phenomena and cold cases throughout the United States. It is widely believed, however, that every copy of Polybius was either sent back to Germany and destroyed, or seized by the US Federal Government and are kept in unknown location(s). does not exist, and never existed, except as a story, and in that form, it always will exist.

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: More Lovecraftian movie posters...

1915: HPL Output. Part 1.

Intro: As a member of the UAPA, Howard was inspired to write quite a few works - mostly to do with the Association's inner workings.

But, that didn't stop Lovecraft from writing political & astronomical articles.

HPL also produced his fair share of short poems...

The following is an example from Lovecraft's war-hawk days.

The Work: "1914"¹ -

Opening Quote: "Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos"² < Virgil³ in his Aeneid⁴, Book 6.

"Arise, Britannia⁵! At (your) sister's⁶ plea, And crush the... foe⁷ of liberty."

"Behold the hour... to prove (your) place, As friend & guardian of the human race."

"The (unquenchable) Goth, with murderous sword⁸, Defies (your) edict & ignores (your) word."

"Eve(r) daring... he plays the... brute, To scorn (your) greatness & (your) power dispute."

"(You) Queen of Nations! Smite into the dust, The proud invader, savage & unjust."

Whose maddened hordes, like... Vandals⁹ seek, To wrong the guiltless & despoil the weak."

"(One) who all his culture misemploys, In art creating less than he destroys."

"Imperial Mother! Cast... pitying eyes, On the sad spot where... Louvain¹⁰ (now) lies."

"Or, on... crumbling wall & formless mound, Where Gallia's¹¹... monarchs were once crowned."

"From North & East... bold barbarians poured, Dyeing the flowing Axona¹² with gore."

"The outraged Gauls¹³, defeated & dis- mayed, Survive alone thru England's¹�� aid."

Footnotes:

1. But, actually written in 1915.

2. The Latin quotation reads, "Spare the defeated & subdue the arrogant."

3. Virgil was the Roman's greatest poet. His name, properly spelled as Vergil, meant "rod (or) staff bearer."

During the Middle Ages, such poets were believed to be magicians - able to conjure dead spirits!!

4. The Aeneid was regarded as the national origin epic of the Roman Empire.

Strangely enough, Virgil died without getting to finish it...

5. Britannia is the Latin version of the British Pretani, "Great Britain."

In the 100s AD, Romans personified Britannia as a goddess armed with trident & shield!

But, this only covered the southern British Isles that the Romans had been able to conquer.

6. I believe that Howard actually meant the United States here.

However, on other occasions, Howard called the U.S. a "child colony" of the British Empire - so, who knows?

7. During WW1, the "Entente Powers" of France, Great Britain & Russia fought against the "Central Powers" of Turkey, Germany & Austria-Hungary.

8. Obviously, HPL meant the great German war machine, which used tanks, trench warfare, poisonous gasses & other 'modern' weapons - not just a sword.

9. The Vandals were a Germanic people from southern Poland.

They conquered Iberia (Spain), some Mediterranean islands & parts of northwestern Africa in the 400s AD.

In 455 AD, they even sacked Rome!!

10. 'Louvain' (now Leuven in Belgium) is so called by its French speakers.

This has led to some confusion with the nearby city of Louvain-la-Neuve!

During WW1, the Germans claimed that they were being attacked by the 'armed' civilians of this city.

So, they burned the whole city down - killing 300+ unarmed folk!

And, destroyed its cultural heritage!!

230,000 Gothic & Renaissance books, 750 Medieval manuscripts & more than 1,000 works printed before 1501 were turned to ash.

The destruction was actually an act of reprisal, which was legal international law back then.

Sadly, this city has been occupied by foreign troops, at least 3 times before this - during different wars.

11. Gallia is the Roman name for the Celtic land that is now known as France.

It is also the name of a fickle satyr (a half woman, half goat!) that called herself "The Lord of Misrule."

Shouldn't that read "Lady of Never- ending Party"?

12. Axona (now Aisne) is the Roman name for a tributary of the Oise River in northern France.

In 57 BC, Julius Caesar fought a battle there against the Belgians.

Though outnumbered & almost out- flanked, Caesar's forces crossed a small marsh & attacked the Belgians, who were disordered while crossing the Axona.

A great many Belgians died, forcing the rest of their army to retreat to their own territories.

Caesar, fearing an ambush, didn't pursue them then.

But, the next day, he attacked the retreating Belgians & killed more of them...

13. "Gauls" was the Roman name for the Celtic peoples that we now call French folk.

14. England is 1 of the "Home Nations" of the modern U.K. country.

The name comes from the Middle English words Engle-land/Engelond. These names appeared after the Norman Conquest of 1066 AD.

But, the Normans finally ended up calling it Engleterre.

Much earlier, the Romans had known the same land as Anglia.

The Angles settled in the Southeast of Celtic Britain, starting during the 410s AD.

They were a Germanic people who once lived in an area between Den- mark & Germany.

Joining their fellow Saxons & Jutes, they took advantage of the Roman desertion of Britannia...

(And, might tie-in to King Arthur's defense of Camelot - in western Britain!!)

Next: Part 2.

[adamt101904]

Episode 4

The next afternoon Sebastian called the number on the card.

"Hello, VonFranken talent how may I help you."

"Yes hello my name is Sebastian and I need to speak to Mr. VonFranken please."

Sebastian waited on hold listening to heavy metal elevator music.

"Hello you got Viktor" said the voice on the phone in a heavy German accent

"Yes sir my name is Sebastian and with the band The Black Plague "

"I heard you guys burned it down at the Rocktober show last night"

"Yes sir thank you" Sebastian continued " A friend gave us your card and said we should call."

"Yes and I am glad you did" said Viktor. "We should get together and discuss some business."

"Ok sir, when should we come out to your office."

"Well you could definitely do that or you could just ring me up"

Sebastian looked out his window and saw a Lamborghini parked in the street in front of his place. How the hell did you know where to find them.

"Well you letting me up or not" said Viktor

Sebastian rung the man into the loft. The elevator opened up revealing a tall man with dark tied back in a ponytail dressed in a black suit carrying a brief case.

"Can I come in?" asked the man

"Yeah of course come in" said Sebastian

"Hello everyone my name is Viktor VonFranken and I am going to make you rich and famous. I want to sign you guys right now, got the contracts ready if you are."

"Man you don't fuck around do you Vik" said Dimitri

"No sense in it, I know what I want and I go for it" said Viktor.

"So what's the verdict you in or not"

The band looked at each other and made their decision.

"Yeah, were in" said Sebastian

"Outstanding" Viktor reached into his briefcase and brought out two sets of contracts. "This is your standard talent contract, sign here at the bottom."

The six put there signatures on the paperwork.

"Next is your standard 6 album deal contract" said Viktor. "Sign at the bottom."

"Six album deal!" yelled JJ and Tabitha together

"Yes that is right. Six albums with Cataclysm Records, the hottest metal label on the planet." said Viktor "So, we gonna sign or what guys"

The six friends signed the contract. The band couldn't believe it. Everything the rock demon had told them was coming true. Last night changed their lives forever.

"By the way, I talked to Johnny Rock, you guys are opening on the main stage at Rockfest." Viktor said" Your welcome" he closed the elevator door and took off.

Several days later Viktor called Sebastian and told him to be in Pittsburgh in three days to start recording their first album. They loaded up in the van, equipment in the trailer and headed out to Pittsburgh.

Three days later they showed up at Cataclysm Records. Viktor met them there and got them all set up. After four long weeks of rockin and rollin the album was done. The band celebrated by going too the Crypt, the hottest metal club in the east.

Beers and shots were downed, the girls danced their asses off. They had a hell of a time.

The next afternoon they went to see Viktor at his office.

"We have some important things to do today." he told everyone.

"First we need to agree on the cover art for your album."

"How do we do that" asked Dimitri

"Well I had the art department do some mockups for you all to check out."

Viktor had his assistant set up the six options on the room for them to see. JJ was the first one to speak up.

"I like number four." The others shook their heads in agreement.

Number four looked like an old movie poster with the bands name at the top, the album name at the bottom and an animated picture of the band in the middle.

"Ok, number four it is, you guys will still have to do a photoshoot for the inside art." said Viktor.

"Now, let's talk about your names" said Viktor " We need to come up with your stage names"

"What is the matter with our names" asked Marky

"Nothing per say they just don't fit your rock personas" said Viktor

"What names fit our persona's then" asked Tabitha

"Funny you should ask" Viktor said as he started handing out papers to everyone

"What is this" asked Sebastian

"This my friend is a list of potential names for you to choose from."

"Really" said Tabitha "Mummina"

"I think these all suck" said Dimitri

"Well I am open to suggestions everyone." said Viktor

"I like Stein" said Simon

"There we go someone is embracing the process"

"What's a Morgot?" asked Marky

"Morgot is the name of the demon of sound, I thought it was fitting."

"Sold" said Marky.

"Alright wolf, what did you have in mind" asked Viktor

"Well I am a wolf, and my name is Dimitri, how bout Wolfie D, the party animal"

"I love it, Wolfie D" said Viktor "Now ladies what are we thinking"

"Who is Isis? asked Tabitha.

"Isis is an ancient Egyptian goddess."

"Oh, a goddess you say, that would work"

"Isis it is, JJ your next girlfriend."

"I am thinking maybe something that starts with 'z', you know for zombie."

"Why not just Z, you can spell it Zee" said Simon.

"That sounds cool actually" JJ said.

"Your last but never least Sebastian, which one is the new you.?"

"I don't like any of them, they all sound super generic and just no" he said

"Come on Sebastian, at least try one" said Viktor

"I'm going to have to think about it"

"Ok, well we have one more piece of business to discuss before we call it a day." said Viktor " Sebastian, we need to address your look."

"What's a matter with my look, what about everyone else's look. " Sebastian protested

"See that is part of the problem, everyone else has a look, you do not. But not to fear we got your back."

Several of Viktor's assistants came into the room with a black robe and three boxes. Sebastian was concerned. There robe was on a mannequin, and so far so good.

"What do you think Sebastian?"

"That's it, not bad I'll wear that no problem."

"Excellent, wait to you see it all together you'll love it."

"Wait, what, the rest of it?"

"You are going to love it" said Viktor

Sebastian's eyes grew wider with every passing second. The before him was a long black robe with huge spikes shoulder pads and wings.

"What the hell is that" said Sebastian

"That's what is going to get you noticed on stage my boy" said Viktor "You are the front man, you need to stand out."

"Come Sebastian it's not that bad" said JJ

"Yeah it's like Type O Negative and Gwar had a love child" laughed Dimitri

"Ugh" said Sebastian "Ok look, I'll wear the outfit on one condition, my name stays the same."

"Deal" said Viktor

"Hear is your final gift Sebastian"

One of the assistants placed a case across Sebastian's legs. He was nervous, what could possibly be in there. He slowly unlocked the case and began to open it. Inside wasn't what he was expecting.

"A sword" Sebastian said excitedly

"Actually it's your new microphone, checkout the handle" said Viktor

Built into the handle of the sword was a wireless microphone.

"Awesome" said Sebastian

Viktor looked at everyone else

"There's new toys for all of you downstairs"

They were ready to burn down the Rockfest.

[whatthecrowtold]

#unhallowedarts - Baneful Books

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary..."

Gustave Doré's cover for Poe's "Raven" from 1884

What better way to celebrate the transition from "corvid" week to "Baneful Books" with a paradigmatic poem...

Poe wanted a mundane and non-reasoning creature capable of speech to deliver the bad news and could hardly take a parrot, after all. While the non-reasoning qualities of ravens are quite debatable after today’s level of awareness of the intelligence of corvids, the motif of the “Unglücksrabe” is quite stringent with the earlier features of ill omen attributed to the bird.

And while the raven of Dicken’s Barnaby Rudge could utter “nobody”, Elizabeth Barrett Browning rhymed “Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence she kept smiling” in her poem “Lady Geraldine’s Courtship” and lost “Lenore” alludes not only to Poe’s earlier poem of the same name but to the back then well-known pre-Gothic ballad of the same name by the German poet Gottfried August Bürger from 1773, that was a favourite not only of Shelley and Coleridge as well but still inspired Stoker to the quote “die Todten Reiten schnell" ("The dead travel fast") fifty years after the “Raven" was published” in New York.

Frank Kirchbach's take on Bürger's "Lenore" c 1890

The long poem became Poe’s literary breakthrough in the United States and was published in every major magazine on the East Coast during the year of 1845 and made Edgar a poet everybody knew, a national celebrity even though he complained that his success still had no perceptible influence on his meagre income.

Edouard Manet "Le Corbeau" for Mallarmé's translation of Poe (1875)

Four years after his “Raven” was published in the “New York Evening Mirror“ in 1845, Poe died. Still penniless, while the “Unglücksrabe” and his other works quickly found a grateful audience in Europe. Poe became a post mortem luminary, first there and later, again, in the United States while his iconic corvid still croaks his famous word over Poe’s posterity among his epigones in fantastic literature and movies

[jasmine604]

W3. 20 Credible Sources P4

Sources on Creatives working in the environmental, social, sub-cultural and political contexts (5x)

The effects of creating feminist zines on the cultural identity development of adolescent girls: From Riot grrrl to Rookie

Type: Thesis Key Words: Art therapy,  Zines,  Group identity,  Feminists,  Teenage girls Brief Summary:  The researcher examined riot grrrl zines, Rookie Magazine, articles, studies, conducted interviews, and created an art response in order to find the underlying meaning of feminist zine culture Reference: Huse, K.-L. (2017). The effects of creating feminist zines on the cultural identity development of adolescent girls: From Riot grrrl to Rookie [Masters Thesis]. https://scholars.smwc.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/357e31a4-c1fa-436e-a09c-a0de00eeaa53/content

‌2. The Travel Photographer’s Mission

Type: Workshop Key Words: Travel Photography, Lecture,  Brief Summary:  Introductory lecture, discover why an important part of good travel photography involves "being there."  Reference: Krist, B. (2017). The Travel Photographer’s Mission. In Kanopy.

3. The cultural representation of graphic design in East and West German

Type: Essay Key Words: Graphic design, Germany, WW11 Brief Summary:  This essay addresses the imbalance in design historical interpretation of graphic design in the first two decades of Germany’s post-war political division, 1949-1970.  Reference: Aynsley, J. (2016). The cultural representation of graphic design in East and West Germany, 1949 to 1970. In P. Sparke, & F. Fisher (Eds.), The Routledge Companion to Design Studies (pp. 242-265). Routledge. https://www.routledge.com/The-Routledge-Companion-to-Design-Studies/Sparke-Fisher/p/book/9781138780507

4. Girl on Girl : art and photography in the age of the female gaze

Type: Book Key Words: Photography, Internet, Self Image, Female Identity Brief Summary:  This book looks at how young women are using photography and the internet to explore issues of self-image and female identity, and the impact this is having on contemporary art. Reference: Jansen, C. (2017). Girl on Girl : art and photography in the age of the female gaze. Laurence King.

5. Luis Bunuel (Ensayo de un Crimen), Das verbrecherische Leben des Archibaldo de la Cruz

Type: Poster Image Key Words: Movie Posters, German Brief Summary:  Important figure in the world of movie posters.  Reference: Hans Hillmann, (Artist), German, born Silesia (now Poland), 1925, & P.R. Wilk,, Ffm., (Printer),. (1964). Luis Bunuel (Ensayo de un Crimen), Das verbrecherische Leben des Archibaldo de la Cruz [Photolithograph Paper/Support: Poster]. Museum of Modern Art (New York, N.Y.). https://jstor.org/stable/community.14642987

[movieposteroftheday]

1953 East German poster for VOLCANO (William Dieterle, Italy, 1950)

Artist: Kurt Geffers

Poster source: Kinoart.net

[demwhore]

Rocketeer (N.YT)

Pairing: Jaeger Pilot! Yuta & Female Reader

featuring some nct and wayv members

Jaeger! au | Pacific Rim! au

Description:  It takes high courage to ride a Jaeger and to kill a Kaiju.

Or: Yuta deadpanned, “I’m a fucking Jaeger pilot. That is something I should boast about.”

words ➙ 15k

genre ➙ sci-fi, angst, romance, action, fantasy, smut

warnings ➙ major character death, graphic description of monsters, physical violence, language, scenes of making out, smut 

A/N ➙ I am deeply inspired by the movie, Pacific Rim. However, i made some changes in the plot. This was rushed, im sorry. This wasn’t proofread, I apologize for some grammatical errors. This took me a while to write but it was worth it. Happy Reading! Kindly reblog and like! <3

P.S ➙  I edited the fic poster using photoshop cs4 and polarr. All credits (pictures used) belong to the perspective owners (sm entertainment & the creators of Pacific Rim) that edit took me ages (please credit me if you wanted to repost the edit, don’t let my efforts go to waste D:) I also created the moodboard (in the teaser), all pictures used are from pinterest. I had to cry blood while editing oml lol, however it was enjoyable and im drooling for yuta pls claim me

Playlist ➙ rocketeer by far east movement, surrender by cash cash, i’m feeling good by michael bublé, pacific rim by ramin djawadi & tom morello

Tags ➙ @shinseobs​ [hi tiff, ily so much!], @insomni-writing​ [hi somni, thank you for proofreading the draft, ur the best!], @jaehyunspaghetti​ [hi bby, i hope u are doing well!], @neocultvretechs​ [hi my lovely kai, i hope u enjoy my little yuta fic offering to u], @milkinqjungs​ [love u], @jaextapose​ [ruth ur the best ;)], and all the yuta stans out there!

Kaiju ( 怪獣, かいじゅう, kaijū) Strange, Giant Beast.

Jaeger (yāɡər, German) Hunter.

“Is this a gift for winning against the Kaijus?”

Yuta murmured, “Ask me to fuck you, and I’ll glady do it.”

You whispered back, “Then do it.”

He responded well; responded to a need he could no longer control. He was driven by lust, passion and determination. Yuta crashed his lips onto yours. Your lips parted on a quiet moan; your hands busy hovering over your boyfriend's body. Instantly, you cling onto him, having his body as your support. Both of your mouths; busy, wild, willing, driven with so much anticipation. Breaths ragged. Darkened eyes. Yuta pressed his body onto you more, you felt giddy; his erection throbbing against your core. Your body vibrated against his; similar with a string plucked with so much force; like a plucked harp. His heart pounded  hard against his chest, his hands exploring your body; every curve of you that drives him insane in his room at the Underbase.  Your hollows that tormented him. You alone, made him drive to insanity, and he’s living for it. Every cell in your body screamed for only Nakamoto Yuta, your core ached for him, and him alone. Every need Yuta felt was only for you. Only you.

“I missed you.” You whispered the moment he left your mouth to dive into your exposed shoulders. Kissing your clavicles, leaving purple marks every suck he took. Yuta didn’t stop as he marked every exposed column of your throat. You tugged at his dirty blonde locks. Your breast rose and fell against his needy touches. “I missed you so much.”

Being a Jaeger pilot means sacrifice. Being deployed to far bases, away from each other. Fighting off Kaijus as if it’s the end of the fucking world. And the constant feel of fear never leaving both of your systems. Questions running through both of your minds, will you still see Yuta after a mission? Will he still see you? Will both of you survive? The world you both live in is so complicated to the extent; complex. Both of you always believed that the world is as alive as the inhabitants were. There is life everytime you look up at the skies. The celestial body is as alive as humans are. It was really fascinating. That is what both you and Yuta thought when you were both highschoolers; turns out the world has made a whole one-hundred and eighty turn; both of you were looking in the wrong direction. There was no life above but beneath. When alien life dominated the Earth it originated deep down the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Their entryway came from the fissure of the two tectonic plates; Pacific and Southern Plate. A made portal from hell to Earth. The Breach. 

Yuta breathed and looked at your eyes. Those tantalizing eyes that never failed to make Yuta in awe. He had seen how those eyes morphed into different emotions. Lust, fear, love, sadness and Yuta loved it, so much. Yuta could still remember the first landing of the Kaiju at his hometown, Osaka. He held your hands, and ran as far as he could bringing you out of the chaos you were in. 

He was vulnerable that time, young, not older than fifteen. He heard how loud the roars resonated from the giant beast. He saw how every infrastructure, made meticulously by humans, crumpled under one swing of the Kaiju. Yuta heard every alarm wail around his neighborhood, every shattered glass, every startled cry, including yours. That is the time Yuta swore, to fight off to the last of his breath, to protect you because he loved you so much. You don’t deserve any of this fucking mess. 

Your skin was flushed, your eyes slumberous, as you slid down your hands to cup his face.  “When I was there, fighting, all I could think was you. And all I know is, I love you so much.” Your words touched him, he had his hands framing your cheeks. He smiled, “I will kill every Kaiju so they won’t block my way into you. I’ll fight for you, my love, for us.” You raised a trembling finger, “I want to be alone with you. I will be deployed again tomorrow in Hong Kong. Make me yours tonight, Yuta.”

“That’s far, I’ll be staying here. But your plan is what I can’t argue with.” Your head was spinning, vision blurred into daze. Yuta looked at you as if you were a shimmering glass of cool water and he cannot control himself but to indulge you, as he was a man with a desperate thirst. You approached his face again but you dodged his lip, he grew impatient at your actions. You nibbled his right lobe and his familiar musky scent filled your senses. That scent that you always miss to smell every time you are on a mission. It made your heart thud. Nakamoto Yuta could drive you mad. “We are in the corridor of our base. I don’t want the marshal seeing us fuck here. Which room is closest?”

Yuta breathed out, “Mine.”

“Do you perhaps know an elevator that is barely used? I can’t let people see me in this kind of state.”

Yuta kissed you again, nibbling your lips. You elicited a quiet moan. “Trust me, people are almost asleep at this hour.” He linked his fingers onto yours and dragged you towards the elevator. The lift gave a sudden jolt. You turned around to capture Yuta’s swollen lips. Murmuring, “I want to feel you.” You scrambled and yanked away his tie, undo-ing his shirt, the buttons shoved aside the stanched material. A hum of pleasure surged on Yuta’s throat while you explored his chest; savoring the power of sinew and muscle underneath. You used a fingertip to trace his nipple, then your mouth replaced your fingertips in an instant. Yuta gasped and whispered incoherent cusses. His body lurched, beneath your plump lips you could feel his heart jolt at your sudden actions. Yuta groaned, he looked at you with half-hooded eyes, “You’ll be the death of me, (Y/N).”

You didn’t answer him, instead you tugged into his nipple using your teeth. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

The elevator halted. Yuta immediately scooped you around his torso. He squeezed your ass, making you yelp in surprise. His mouth took yours, initiated a dazzling, dizzying kiss. Your blood heated against his touch, it was hot like a burning flash against your skin, roaring through your core. One moment you felt a wall behind you, and Yuta trapped you and captured your lips once again. He sighed, then growled, “I want you naked.”

“Open your room, mister.” He assisted you down and approached his doors. He held the keys with a shaky hand. With a lot of effort he shoved the door wide and yanked your arm. The door shut with a loud thud. Yuta pushed your figure towards the door. He shoved your shirt out from your shoulders, down your arms. For thrilling moments, Yuta’s dark look made your core throb  with so much anticipation. The need raged, clawed inside her systems like a resident virus as his teeth seared off your exposed chest. Yuta wrapped your ponytail into his hands, then arched it towards the left to devour onto your exposed, now marked throat. You were a moaning mess, eyes shut at the delicious feeling Yuta is making you feel. He then neglected your throat, then claimed your lips once again. The vague sense of warmth enclosing both of your bodies. Your top is completely removed leaving you in your tank top and bra. Yuta was still completely dressed. Both of you staggered as you tried to push him away to undress him. He shoved you again to the nearest wall, his pounding erection making you cry out, you want him, badly. You thrusted against his bulge. Yuta’s breath hitched, following a harsh rasp through his lips. He caught your face, eyes dark as midnight, he stared down at you, “You want this?”

“Yes. Fuck me all you want, Yuta.”

On a vicious oath, he yanked your tank top. With an expert flick of his fingers, he unhooked you bra and yanked it off. Yuta’s hand is now at your waist, tight, he lifted you off your feet to take your breast into his mouth. The air around you thickened. Your breath snagged, in both of your lungs, as you arched back giving him more access, your fingers gliding down his shoulder blades. Yuta’s mouth fed sucked, his teeth scraping erotically on your tensed, aching, budded nipple, You whimpered against the wall, the mixture of pain and pleasure taking a toll on you, you were desperately calling out for his name, your pussy pounding, panties soaked. 

“Oh, god, Yuta. I can’t.”

“You can.” He lowered downwards. Your stomach, then your navel. He let go of your waist then he kneeled. Unbuckling your jeans and sliding it down in a tormenting manner. He then, twirled the lace of your panties, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “That’s it, be wet for me.” He pulled down the fabric down to your ankles, your eyes shutting at his touches. He parted your legs, then slid a slim finger onto your folds. You gasped. “Oh fuck.”

“Can you lie down?”

“On the floor?”

“I’m impatient.”

Yuta is shining, with sweat with the lamp light above both of you. You immediately lay down, the floor was cold. The sudden cold contact making you hiss, but you couldn’t care less. Yuta teasingly rubbed your labia, in a tortuous slow pace. Yuta gave a triumphant smile. He felt a sense of pride making you mewl onto the floor because of his touches. You shutted your eyes, moaning at the contact. His slim fingers going in slow directions; up and down. It was smooth with your juices oozing out. You couldn't bear with his teaching, you grabbed his wrist to push it into your core further. “Woah, woah, excited?”

“I hate you.”

He rubbed your clitoris; in a slow, sensual, circular manner and it made you gasp for air. You were now a moaning mess. Your eyes screw shut, your mind went haywire; black; full of desire and all you could think was Yuta’s fingers; torturing you erotically. It felt heavenly. After your clit, he dragged his fingers downwards, his other hand spreading your legs more apart. He slides in two fingers with ease, dragging your walls. Your hands clenched. Yuta dragged your arousal into his fingers. Then left you there, hanging, waiting for more. You peeked up, brows furrowed, but the sight in front of you was a masterpiece. Yuta looked like someone who was crafted by Michael Angelo; he knelt there, he looked ethereal; golden, in the yellow hue of his lamp, his slim fingers glistening with your juices, eyes locked into yours; dark as the midnight, full of lust. He licked his fingers and slid it all into his mouth. The flash of passion, the fury of need that darkened his eyes, filled with a sense of decadent power, as you laid there, all ready for him. Time and place was a virtue, but all you wanted was to spend your nights with him, only him.

“You really want to fuck me here? You’ve got a damn bed, Yuta.”

“Later.” The sight before him was something so lovely and intricate. The need you felt for him was primitive, overwhelming. You scrambled out from your position and one moment Yuta felt your greedy hands unbuckling his belt and unhooking his pants. He watched you in amusement, he didn’t complain, more; let you do your own will. You never moved so fast in your life, you undressed him so fast, it even surprised you. Yuta dragged you down onto the floor again, the coolness of the tiles against her back made her register to her dazed mind. Yuta leaned over. His mouth feasting over your flesh, greedy hands roaming and racing around your quivering body in a ruthless manner. Heat pumped into both of your systems. You felt yourself going warm, soft, melting into his touch. Becoming one. Your mouths connected once again. Hot and greedy. Salivas connecting. You nipped onto his lips, chest. Fingers grazing and digging into the hard ridge of his shoulders. Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other; savouring pore by pore. He palmed you, again. You gasped at the sudden touch, it sent shivers to your spine. His fingers went down to your core, moving against your heat, relentlessly building you up, the drive, the need for release clawing viciously. 

“Look at me, (Y/N).” His hair is mopped overhead. Damped, but still beautiful as it is. “I love you.” The shadows around you seemed to shift while your fingers stroked. His fingers are still busy devouring your core.  Sensation slid after sensation, building inside you, in trembling, shuddering layers, then exploded. Your vision blurred; a half sob tore from your lips. Strength gone, you lay there motionless, air around is thick with ragged breaths and sex. Your heartbeat stumbled. Yuta caressed his shaft, then the head; red, oozing with pre-cum. 

“You’ll hate me more.” Yuta grinned as he slammed his throbbing cock onto you. A sob of pure, overwhelming pleasure eased up your throat. You heard both of your flesh clicking with every move Yuta made. The air smelt of sex. Dark. Your body opened and joined with his. Arching, you meet his heavy thrusts lifting your hips after his attacks, moving in a desperate manner, urging him on “Shit, you feel so good.” In that fleeting moment, in the deep night. You understood, there will be no other man in your mind, only the man in front of you, deep, thrusting, Yuta was only the one. The one.

Underbase. South Korea

Yuta sat alone. He stared at your sleeping figure on his bed. The marks lingered on your neck like wild berries. He felt his arms shake uncontrollably. He stood up in his black boxers; and approached the medication box just inside his drawers. He searched for the familiar capsule. Chloroquine. His breathing steadied, and found the strength to look at your figure again. His subconscious is having an internal battle with his heart. He drank his medication and went to the bed with you. Your skin glowed like warm honey. Yuta whispered in, “I will stop loving you until the last rose dies.”

Yuta and you have been in ups and downs. Of which included; surviving the Kaiju attacks. 

Yuta could still remember that devastating day. Indistinct radio chatters. Government jets. Explosions. Roars. Chaos. By the time the Kaiju was taken down by tanks and jets, exactly seven days and 40 miles later, three cities were already destroyed. Tokyo, Kyoto, and his hometown, Osaka. Thousands of lives were lost, including those of his beloved parents. The city mourned for the lost souls, memorialized the ones who died because of the giant beast, and the people slowly moved on. Three months later, there was another attack. Taiwan. The beast shattered Taipei. People clamoring, people killed, the toxic blood of the beast painting the streets a vibrant blue. Then, another attack hit Los Angeles, the same destruction happening, the same trauma. Again, it was stopped. Then and there, the people learned and realized. The attacks wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. Everything that happened was just the beginning. The calm before the storm. There was something waiting out there, something more grotesque, more destructive. 

There both of you entered the dangerous world of being a Jaeger pilot. 

The nation had been reborn, and set an alliance in order to be better prepared in case of another upcoming Kaiju attack. Resources were clamped together to build an indestructible weapon against the Kaijus. For the sake of the innocent lives, for the sake of their own sanity and peace. The people created their own version of the Kaiju. The Jaeger program was created. At first, there were a series of malfunctions and setbacks. A single pilot couldn’t withstand the neural load to catch up and interface with a Jaeger, the strain so powerful that it could cause intracranial nerve damage. And so, the two-pilot system was proposed. The left pilot for the left hemisphere and the right pilot for the right hemisphere. 

With the Jaeger, the people started winning, soon being able to stop attacks of the Kaijus everywhere. Then came the propaganda. Kaiju and Jaeger toys. The Jaeger pilots became celebrities. Everything was going smoothly, all success falling into the people’s palm.

Then, it all changed.

“Alert Gipsy Danger. Kaiju movement spotted at Bay 10. Code name. Kaiju Sharp Snout. Category 3. 9,000 metric tons.”

Yuta scrambled immediately out of his bunk bed. He whispered and shook your figure lightly, “I need to go, I love you.” You groaned in response. He made a sudden jump and knocked at the door of his younger co-pilot, Mark, aggressively. 

Mark’s door is slightly ajar. Yuta made himself in, further waking up the younger boy. “Wake up, Canada Boy. There’s Kaiju movement at the breach,” He slapped the bed of Mark’s lightly, “We are deployed to baby Mark-03.” He said in reference to the nuclear powered Jaeger.  The machine they were piloting, Gipsy Danger, was Yuta and Mark's pride and joy. Mark opened the door to his room and Yuta moved in his room, and approached his cabinet and put on a grey t-shirt.

Mark groaned, “Not a good morning to you.”

Yuta smirked, “It’s a good morning to kick some Kaiju ass. Road to seven wins.”

Mark wiped his eyes, “What time is it?”

“Two.”

Mark made a face, “In the morning?”

Yuta grinned while fixing his cross necklace, “Yep.”

“Why are you so pumped up all of a sudden?”

Mark glanced behind Yuta’s shoulder and saw your sleeping figure on his bed. Their rooms were just interconnected with a single door as a barrier. He gave the older pilot a smirk. Mark’s unanswered questions are answered; Yuta was the sole reason of the sudden moaning at twelve fucking midnight.

“What category is it?”

“Three, the biggest one, yet.”

Mark narrowed his eyes, “Code name?”

“Sharp Snout.”

Yuta approached the younger boy and made a playful fist bump with him. “It’s superhero time.”

Mark gave him a toothy grin. A knock disrupted the two from the main door of their rooms. A male voice grunted from the other side of the steel door. 

“Hey, Handsomes, time for the drop.”

Mark made his way to the bathroom, “Who gave them that code name?”

“Me.”

Mark gave Yuta a questionable look, “Handsome? Really?” then grinned afterwards. “Don’t get a big head, hyung. Also, tell (Y/N) I said hi after our mission.”

By the time Yuta and Mark were preparing for their mission, you were still asleep. The boots of the two young bachelors clinked towards the steel platform. Yuta and Mark met when there was a Jaeger Pilot sign up in Japan. Yuta and Mark had a similar childhood experience, having lost their families because of the Kaiju Attack. They weren’t the stars among their classes, never have been selected for an urgent attack. However, there was one thing that made the two exceptional among all the Jaeger pilots; they were drift compatible. They had a strong bond which made their fights more successful. The drift compatibility was, in essence, two completely different systems conjoined together to create an enormous battle defense against an intruder. Finding a drifting partner was like searching for your other half, your other soul. Yuta didn’t want to have you as his co-pilot; he gets distracted by your beauty easily.

Yuta and Mark arrived at the drop facility. The workers assisted the two in wearing their titanium metal suit, tools whirring, a metal spinal cord attached to their back. The two pilots gave each other playful glances. They wore matching white helmets, a yellow liquid dispersing downwards.

“Data on Helmet. Data relay gel dispersing on circuit plots.”

The machine gave a low hum. The lights flicked on, the others following. The heavy secured door opened with a loud hiss. Yuta and Mark entered, each stride followed by a clank. The attachment metal descended, a loud swish coming from its origin. It looked like a harness, but there was no attachment on the pilot’s torso; the metal straps are only connected to the arms and foot. Yuta and Mark placed both of their feet on the pedal platform, then the equipment wrapped around their soles and ankles, securing both of them tightly. It gave an impression as if they are flying mid-air, the security straps hidden behind their lavish suits. The staff whirred the screw onto their backs, the driller machine turning the screw aggressively. Another metal, similar to a handcuff automatically attached on the boy’s wrists, clicking after each wrist. Then a circular device was connected to their palms, a light emitting from its center. A circular plot on Mark’s right palm and another on Yuta’s left palm. 

A voice came out from the p.a system. 

“Good morning, handsome boys.”

Yuta grinned and pressed the overhead controller, “Taeil, what’s up, my man?”

Taeil chuckled, “Mightier than ever. Won an algebra quiz.”

Yuta pressed the button again, “Having a sexy brain makes you so attractive, brother.”

Mark pressed in his buttons calling out to Taeil, “How was the date? Did you score?” Then the two laughed boisterously. 

Taeil smirked from his station and levelled the mic onto his plump lips, “She loved me, that’s a giveaway, however, someone was barking. I will leave it to you guys to imagine what exactly that was.” Taeil went on a blind date, however, it didn’t go as well as he’d planned. The girl’s father didn’t fancy him at all. 

Yuta groaned, “That must’ve hurt your ego, man.”

Taeil clicked his tongue, “Have established my ego and pride for several years. That one was chicken.”

Marshal Lau entered in his navy suit, “Engage the drop, Mr. Moon.”

Taeil’s body jerked up in surprise and he cleared his throat, “Engaging drop, Sir.” The hologram flashed in front of Taeil's face as he typed down the keyboard, vigorously. A bracelet lingered on his wrist. He spoke towards his mic again, “Marshal Lau on deck.” He pushed the button on his console, then jutted the controller similar to a joystick in an upward direction, “Securing conn pad, then, we are ready to drop.”

The staff from the conn pad attached the steel with the shape of a bowtie. The steel conjoined with a loud hiss.

“Conn pad attached, Sir Taeil. Back door secured.”

Yuta and Mark pressed the p.a button, “Ready for the drop.”

Yuta voiced out, “Gipsy Danger ready for the big drop.”

From a distance, the place Yuta and Mark are in, is actually a robot head. It was gigantic, it had a black exterior, the eyes that looked similar to a windshield, are colored a bright yellow. The air around it swooshed, steam coming out of the pipes. Then, the robot head dropped in an instant. The two pilot’s stomach churned as the head plunged from a high altitude. 

Yuta hissed, “Here comes the roller coaster ride.”

Mark answered back, “Never was my favorite.”

Gipsy Danger’s head attached on its enormous torso. The two groaned at the impact of the drop, but recollected immediately. The head descended and locked onto its open neck. The head tilted towards the right, and a series of chains connected to each other. 

“Connection complete, Sir.”

“Engage the pilot-to-pilot protocol now.”

Taeil typed in again, “Engaging pilot-to-pilot program in three, two, one,” he clicked a button, “Now.”

An AI voice sounded from the speakers, “Pilot-to-pilot sequence, protocol engaging.”

Gipsy Danger’s neck continued to move, securing all the heavy duty alloy into their places. The gaps from the neck closed in an instant. The enormous robot’s center core illuminated a high glow of red, the internal part turning in a fast, clockwise direction. The tower cranes moved away. The platform beneath the Jaeger’s feet moved slowly. The marshallers waved their luminous sticks guiding the moving vehicle with care. The doors of the base opened; violent waves flashed the bottom and strong winds blew into the base. 

“Gipsy Launch. Bay nine.”

Mighty gales. Rain. Thunder Strikes. Gipsy stood out despite the storm eating in. Several lights luminated from the robot; the topmost head, chest, legs, the forearms. There were indistinct radio chatters heard, and the helicopters flew against the tempest. The moving platform dropped slowly into the water, creating a huge wave from the impact. 

Taeil pressed several other buttons from the overhead console. “Gipsy Danger, ready and aligned, Sir.”

Marshal law leaned onto the microphone, “Rangers, this is Marshal Lau. Prepare for the neural handshake.”

Taeil moved again. His fingers grazing the buttons, the hologram screen illuminated robot parts and the brain; both left and right hemisphere shown. “Initiating neural handshake in fifteen seconds.” Taeil started counting downwards while typing vigorously, making sure the programs are set well. An image of the brain turned against the screen, “Ten.”

Marshal Lau observed the holographic screen, then took a peek at his watch. It was past three already. 

“Eight.”

From the Gipsy, Mark pressed some buttons, then looked at Yuta. “I really can’t hide my secrets from you.”

Yuta tsk-ed, shaking his head, “Do the honor of stepping into my brain first.” 

“Pilot-to-pilot sequence, protocol engaging. Neural handshake initiated.”

Mark and Yuta stood there, and closed both of their eyes. Both of the pilot’s visions looked like a big whirlpool; making them remember the significant memories of their past, then a blackout, then another memory. Each could read and see the latter’s memory. This was called the Drift. Jaeger Technology. Based on the fighter program neural systems. The two pilots mind-meld each other’s memories with the body of the giant machine. The deeper the bond shared between the two pilots, the stronger they fight. 

A gigantic loading screen flashed on Taeil’s screen. “Neural handshake complete. Strong and deep.” 

Marshal Lau stood behind him, staring deeply.

Yuta raised his left palm, the circular device illuminated. “Left hemisphere calibrating.”

Mark did the same, raising his right, the device glowed after his movements, “Right hemisphere calibrating.”

Both of the pilots moved simultaneously, raising one arm after another and throwing a punch. The gigantic machine followed the action of the two; lifting its gigantic arms then flexing them afterwards. The control and movement originated from its main base, the head from the two pilots engaged. 

The female AI voiced out, “Calibration completed.”

Marshal Lau breathed then spoke, “Gentlemen, your orders are to hold and block Kaiju from entering Manila's waters. Copy?”

Yuta answered, “Copy, Marshal.”

Mark spoke, pressing the button from his overhead controller, “Sir, there is movement on the west coast. A fishing vessel--”

“Rangers, we are not risking millions of lives for a vessel that contains twenty. Orders are orders, understood?”

The two rangers answered at once, “Yes, Sir.”

Yuta pressed the button to cancel the message transmitting from the base. He gave Mark a stern gaze. 

Mark gulped, “Is he serious?”

Yuta gave him a determined look, “Mark, you know what I have in mind?”

Mark’s lips pressed into a thin line, “Our minds are connected, I’m basically in there.”

Yuta grinned, “I know. Let’s go for some fish.”

Mark gave a lopsided smile, “Then, here we go!”

The two pilots made a step. The left then lifted their rights. It took great effort to take a stride with the machine. The two pilots were suspended mid-air; starting from their feet, there was an enormous chain turning into a clockwise direction from every movement made by the rangers. The Jaeger took big strides along the waters. The machine stood about two-hundred fifty feet; complex, weaponry used as defense for the alien life domination. Gipsy Danger walked in the waters as if not fazed by the violent thunders and winds blowing its enormous metal body. There are phenomena that are impossible to fight with; hurricanes, rain, thunderstorms— all acts of God. However, when you are in a Jaeger, everything impossible could be made possible. Being in a Jaeger meant, winning, defending everything coming at your way.

Shores of Manila

From the mile anchorage. The fishing vessel was wiped by the aggressive waters of the peninsula. The boat swayed carelessly along the violent waves, heavy currents hit the hull of the water vessel, splashing water everywhere its bow. The fishermen yelled instinctively while chaining their equipment to the post. Slipping on the deck, panicking and helpless. They were soaked while they ran around the open cabin to secure every paraphernalia in place; their yellow raincoat stood out in the dark storm, the wind tackling them out of their posture. A man in his mid-forties; with an Indian descent, trotted inside the cockpit. Another man, an African-American, controlled the helm, whirring it towards the right. The radar beeped loudly. The windshield wipers were busy; vigorously wiping the windows, left and right.

The man in his forties yelled out of his lungs, “How long is the port from Manila?!”

The man behind the wheel answered, speaking on top of his lungs, “Ten miles, Sir!”

An old man, from the right of the driver; wearing a beanie, roared while staring at the radar, “We’ll be dead by the time we reach Manila!”

The storm makes it hard for them to communicate; the only thing that is effective is through shouting on top of their lungs in attempts to hear each other, while the wind is aggressively slapping the vessel from left to right. The Indian shouted back, pointing at the radar. A green light blinked after his taps, “What about that island by the east? Two miles?!”

The American answered him, “It’s a mile, Sir!” He yanked the wheel again, stirring towards the East direction, “The island is getting closer!”

The old man in a beanie cried out, “How the hell is the island getting closer?! We ain’t even accelerating forward!”

The Indian caught his tongue, and stared intently ahead. The radar was beeping rapidly. The waves splashed and an enormous black rock came into a view. The island. The American shouted, his tone hinting victory “The island!”

The Indian shook his head, “It’s no island. Kaiju.”

The enormous monster swam across the waters. Its back was hunched, rising up and down from the waters.The Kaiju gave a low growl, its feet dragging heavily along the floors of the ocean. It was massive and its scales luminated a cerulean blue. This beast was neither lithe, nor blessed with grace. Its beady eyes glinted a deep black; upright soulless and evil. Underneath the drone of the rain there came another sound. At first it was quite indistinct, but as it drew closer to the vessel where the fishermen huddled, it became louder. A deafening growl that was bone-shrieking. The Kaiju swam fast, approaching the vessel in an instant. 

The man in his forties cried, panic surging up his systems. “Fucking hell! Turn the vessel around!”

The Kaiju stood up. Standing about hundreds of feet. Yellow lines lingered around its back. A blue illuminating its sharp nose. Its giant claws raised, about to ponder the vessel to pieces. Luckily, the vessel had swerved to the right, missing the blow of the monster. The Kaiju roared loud as the thunder struck from the skies. Its gigantic mouth had illuminated a warm blue glow; its tongue raveling out. A string of curses unraveled from the fishermen’s tongue, like yarn unfurling, as the Kaiju advanced. It's golden and blue scales shimmered with hot anger along with it's dark, cold, greyish eyes. Every step it took rattled their bones, struck their hearts, and shook the waters. The Kaiju stared down at the vessel, its beady eyes hungry, angry, dangerous. The men from the deck cried in agony and panic, “Oh God!”

Another one yelled, “What the hell?” As several splashes of water sprayed them from the deck. Gipsy Danger rose up from the waters, its light blinding the people from the vessel with an electronic buzzing. The center core of the enormous machine glowed a fiery red, turning in a steady, fast, circular direction. The Jaeger’s large right hand grabbed the vessel from its bottom. The fishermen ducked their heads; figures crouched on the deck, trembling in terror. The vessel rose up in the air, in the palm of the gigantic robot. The fishermen yelled. 

A female robotic voice boomed from the pilot’s control center. “Fishing vessel secured.”

From Mark’s circular plot; a holographic image of the vessel was shown. “Adjust the torque!”

Yuta nodded and pressed the buttons from the overhead consoles, “Alright!”

“Torque secured.”

The Jaeger kneeled on its one foot and pivoted its body towards left, the right arms extended forward, releasing the vessel on the other part of the ocean; away from the roaring Kaiju. The Jaeger turned around and the two pilots quickly threw a right punch aiming towards its jaw. The Kaiju had a loud howl as it staggered backward, falling into the waters. The Kaiju quickly stood up in an attempt to attack the Jaeger, however, the machine had already mustered another blow, coming from the left arm. Smashing the creature's chest, Yuta and Mark both groaned while they raised both of their arms up in the air; fist closed to pound on the flat part of its sharp snout. The Kaiju’s head dropped into the waters; its mouth lighted up a sharp color of blue as it exhaled underneath the surface of the sea. It rose up again, and let out an angry shriek, advancing towards the Jaeger and smashing itself towards its torso. Yuta raised his left arm in defense, but the Kaiju was too fast, ripping some of the parts of the Jaegers arm. The pilots staggered on their places; the system beeping rapidly, they both shouted.

“Hyung! I’ll aim the missile! Hold the demon to its place!”

Yuta held its body; holding the sharp snout in place; the Kaiju protested against the stronghold of the machine. Gipsy Danger’s right arm transformed into a missile launcher; a circular beam ready to be launched. “Get it!”

The missile was launched. Three shots. They smashed right against the chest of the Kaiju. The monster gave a loud screech and fell from its back. The waters gave a loud splash after the downfall of the Kaiju. 

From the base, Taeil read the beeping lights from his holographic scene. “Discharge reading, Sir. Plasma cannon released in the peninsula ten miles of Manila.”

Marshal Lau pressed in the p.a system, “Rangers, what the fuck just happened?”

Yuta smirked and pressed onto the p.a button from the overhead console to answer back, “Kaiju down, Sir. That makes that our seven.”

Marshal law yelled through the microphone, “You disobeyed a direct order! The plan is to avoid the Kaiju from entering the waters of Manila!”

 Mark answered back, “We did, Sir! We released a launch and saved the vessel from being crumpled!”

Marshal Lau’s nostrils flared up, “Go back to the base, Now!”

The rangers grinned at each other. They had made the Marshal annoyed, again. Yuta pressed the button, “Okie dokie, Sir.” He pressed the button again, to cancel the p.a message transmitting to the base. 

Taeil cried out loud, “Kaiju signature sending. I repeat, the Kaiju is still alive!”

Marshal Lau pressed the microphone again, yelling, “Rangers! The thing survived! Grab the vessel and return to your post now!”

Gipsy stood there in the waters, the two pilots frantically searching for the Kaiju. The waters glowed with the Kaiju’s blood; the ocean colored a fascinating shade of cerulean blue; despite its aesthetic appearance, it was highly toxic. The Marshal’s voice boomed into their p.a systems, “Gipsy, get out of there now!”

Gipsy lingered right, then left. It was still and quiet. Only the violent blowing of the winds were heard. Then, suddenly the creature attacked, taking the pilots in surprise. The Kaiju roared angrily and clawed at the machine. Gipsy held in the Kaiju’s mouth, controlling its attempt to eat out the machinery. Mark and Yuta grunted, as they swayed back and forth from the Kaiju’s impact. 

Yuta yelled, “I got this!” He swung his arm, the machine’s fist shifting into a missile launcher. He then made an attack, taking a movement from below. The Kaiju swatted the arm then lashed with its sharp snout onto its shoulders, clawing the arm away from the source. Yuta screamed loud in pain as he held his left arm. The radar from Gipsy’s head beeped rapidly, the screen blinking a bold text of ‘Alert’.

Mark yelled through the mic, “Taeil hyung, we’ve been attacked!”

Taeil from the base, typed in. Gipsy’s figure flashing on his screen. He turned towards the Marshal, “Left arm, gone, Sir.”

Gipsy’s arm was clawed out by the Kaiju. With another attempt, the monster chomped on the arm, ripped it away and threw it towards the ocean. The Kaiju went mad; berserk; screeching as it violently attacked the Jaeger. Its right claw lashed onto the Jaeger’s head; where both pilots were stationed. The glass shattered as the Kaiju roared. Mark and Yuta swayed, ragged breath leaving their lips. The Kaiju have gone through the hull. It clawed up and managed to destroy the right side of the Jaeger’s head. Opening from Mark’s side.

Mark threw a panicked look towards Yuta, “Hyung, listen! You have to--”

Mark shouted loudly. Desperate, full of panic. He was so helpless. Mark wasn’t even able to finish his sentences as the Kaiju snatched his figure apart from the metal supporting him, his body flying away. Yuta cried out loud, “NO!”

From the hull, Mark’s spot was now empty, replaced with electricity and fires. Yuta screamed in agony, “NO!” He grunted as he was electrified. The computers were beeping rapidly. Red Alert. Alarms wailing. Yuta bit down his lips as he tried to raise his injured arm, transferring the circular plot on his right palm. The Kaiju gave a loud roar, advancing towards Gipsy, again. Pushing the machinery with brutal force. Yuta grunted as he staggered from his post. The monster growled and placed its sharp snout on the Jaeger’s chest. Yuta screamed, as jolts of pain shooted out his body. Yuta aimed the missile launcher. The creature was dominating, clawing and smashing against the Jaeger’s body. It roared after a huge attack. Then, again and again. 

“Missile Loading”

The Kaiju chewed on the Jaeger as if it was a feast. Yuta yelled again. Then, he aimed directly at the gigantic monster’s chest. Three shots. There was a massive, blinding light. Darkness. Its body parts littered everywhere. 

From Taeil’s screen, the red dot has disappeared in a blink of the eye. “Second missile, launched, Sir. No Kaiju signature noted.” He typed in again, “I’m not getting any signals.”

“I cannot reach Yuta, Sir.”

The Marshal walked away from the base. A sullen look painted his face. It was not a time to celebrate; they did ward off the Kaiju. However, they had lost another brave soul. Mark Lee fought until his very last breath.

Bali, Indonesia

“Grandma! Look what I found on the shores!”

The little girl showed her grandmother an old, rusty, robot toy; a Jaeger to be precise. Her grandmother gave her a pleasant smile, standing up from picking up shells. “That is absolutely beautiful my dear.”

“It is mama! I wanted to see one Jaeger someday!” She beamed at her grandmother, clapping her hands excitingly. Then the elderly shushed her, “Okay, you will! Now let us pick some shells, shall we?”

The younger girl nodded and crouched down and helped her grandmother to pick up several shells. All were pearly white, some with a tint of orange and pink, some long, others short. Loud footsteps were heard from the distance. The young girl peeked up, her eyes widening at the sight. She cried out loud, “MAMA!” The younger had wished for a Jaeger, and a Jaeger appeared. Mark 03, Gipsy Danger. Clattered and destroyed. 

The grandmother raised a hand on her mouth. Surprised. “Oh my heavens.”

Gipsy staggered with every step it took. The machine creaking. Then suddenly, it fell on its knees and made a drop towards the ground. The machine powered down after the fall. The two ran towards the machine quickly. The elderly woman flailed her left arm, “Stay here!”

The grandmother approached the hull cautiously. Then she saw a figure crawling from the machine’s gigantic head. Yuta panted as he struggled to get out of the Jaeger. He quickly stood up. He looked like he was run down several times. His left arm suit was already busted, burned to the extent; pools of blood dripping down his forearm. From his left bicep were several vertical wounds. It was red and bloody. His helmet was cracked and staggered, almost collapsing. Everything was circulating, he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t clearly hear the words from the elderly woman. He felt as if he was drowning. Muffled voices. All he could think of was his younger brother, Mark Lee.

Yuta whispered while he turned around, “Mark... Mark? (Y/N)?” His legs couldn’t carry his weight anymore and he collapsed on the ground. 

“Darling, quick! Call for help!”

The elderly woman held his face, “It’s gonna be okay. Hold on for a little longer.”

Could he hold on a little longer?

“Where the hell is Yuta?” You shook Taeil’s shoulder, tears welling in your eyes. The news of their expedition has made it through the Underbase. It was already four in the morning, yet, no signs of Yuta. No signs of Gipsy. This is what you feared. You did spend a lovely and memorable night with the love of your life but, is this the price you have to pay? Your fingers trembled, as you observed Taeil type in his keyboard. “Taeil, please find him.”

“I’m trying my best (Y/N). For now, calm down.”

“How can I calm down Taeil?”

“(Y/N), you know exactly how dangerous our job entails. Death chases after us, I hope you are aware of that.” You are. You’re not just ready to let go of him yet. Not now, never. You stood up again, this time, you roamed around the base. Looking at every monitor in sight; just to divert your attention. You told the marshal that you won’t be deploying bases not until they give out any information about Yuta. Hong Kong could wait. You would be needed if there is a brought mutilated Jaeger. After all, you have already settled with the restoration team and upgrades of the Jaegers. You were once a pilot, too, but Yuta was concerned about your health. The Jaeger tech is too much for your health; it almost had your ECG line flat that one moment you had a mission in China. You were also responsible with the cadet selection and combat training. 

You blinked hard. Throat tightening. You gave an abstracted look then, took a deep breath and slowly initiated expiration. You felt the relaxation of your diaphragm and your lungs pushed out air. You licked your lips; it was already dry. The holographic screen of Taeil showed the maps of Manila, he zoomed in to the nearby countries surrounding the country. Tracing any signs of the Jaeger or Yuta. A staff from the other side of the room suddenly alerted the people inside the vicinity. 

“A report came from Indonesia, Sir Moon.”

Taeil gave you a quick glance. “That guy has nine lives. Don’t worry, we’ll find him, (Y/N).” 

Taeil’s voice boomed inside the control base, “Coordinates?”

“8.3405° S, 115.0920° E”

“Where is the call coming from?”

“Seminyak, Sir.”

“Prepare the chopper now!”

You approached Taeil’s figure, “I’ll come with your team!”

“(Y/N), no.”

“Why not?”

“Orders are orders, (Y/N).” You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice. Marshal Lau. You reacted, “Yuta is my boyfriend, I need to see him!”

The marshal nodded, “I know. But It could crowd the chopper. It’s much better if you’ll wait here.”

You tried to argue back but the marshal held up a hand, silencing you. He gave you a curt nod, “Orders, (Y/N).”

You stormed out in frustration. Fuck orders.

Yuta narrowed his eyes. He felt really exhausted. The elderly assisted him and managed to remove the suit from him; to let his body to breathe. The nasty wounds clinging onto his skin. Yuta tried to move his body, but he cannot move his distal muscles. And his fingers are shaking uncontrollably. He tried to remember when was the last time he had taken in his medication; one a.m, and he drank it while looking at your peaceful sleeping figure on his bed. The medication he had taken has already subsided. Now, he is suffering with uncontrollable muscle shaking, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He felt helpless, adding the fact that Mark was already gone. He wanted to diminish out. After all, his time was already set in a time bomb; time for Yuta was expensive, and there is no such thing as bargaining. The medics around the island checked upon him, and he didn’t sustain a concussion; but the mission surely left him an ugly scar. Thoughts swirling around his mind; was it really worth it to be a Jaeger pilot? Is it time to diminish the Jaeger tech of his system? The fire, determination, urge to kill and to protect the world from the enormous beast has threatened to fall down the day he piloted Gipsy Danger alone, and collapsed at the beach somewhere in Indonesia. Mark’s death is still taking a toll on him. 

A large helicopter. Boeing CH-47 Chinook. Hovering in the air above the clinic he is currently housing at. It was painted a deep green and yellow, a heavy, military aircraft with a figure in dark glasses and helmet hunched over the controls. It swung around over the site, it's blades beating the air. Then settled on the ground. Yuta narrowed his eyes at the aircraft before him. The familiar emblem caught his eyes; a large sword that struck a Kaiju’s chest. He walked out of the site and approached the man that had jumped out of the vehicle.

“Nakamoto Yuta.”

Yuta called upon the name of the higher up before him, “Marshal.”

The Marshal nodded, “Now's not the time to mourn. My number one priority is your health.”

Yuta nibbled on his lips, “It’s always been our oath marshal. Mourn later, Kill Kaijus.”

“I also lost a brave soul. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Yuta furrowed his brows, then looked towards the Marshal intently, “Marshal, I have something to tell you concerning my health.”

The helicopter they rode flew high in the air. Passing through the familiar cities of Taiwan, China, Singapore, then they finally arrived in South Korea. Military time, 1800 hrs. Jaeger Station, South Korea. 

It was raining hard. Busy. The people at the bay were occupied. Some are pushing the Kaiju specimen drenched in formuline in a large glass dome towards the southwest direction in the laboratory. The marshallers were waving their glow sticks guiding the arriving helicopter towards the helipad. Military men in raincoats walked back and forth. Trucks and machineries are busy. Cargo ships at the nearest dock. You stalked out of the base, a large black umbrella covering you from the rain. You were still frustrated that Marshal Lau hasn’t let you go on their search rescue. The anxiety is slowly killing you. You have heard rumors about solo piloting, and it has a backlash. All you know, it could affect Yuta’s health. A whistle caught your attention.

“Looking good, Miss (Y/N). Can I have a taste?” 

“Fuck off.”

You didn’t know the guy and so, you ignored and paid no attention to him. Your world wasn't just experiencing the attacks of Kaijus, there are creatures that are jerks, scattered around the world, Misogynists. They are of a different breed, but they don't differ as they share the same attitude. You clutched your work laptop tightly against your chest. Your long black coat swaying against the violent winds and followed your figure from behind. Your black combat boots made a loud splash every stride you took. You looked up and saw the Boeing CH-47 Chinook ready to take off. Your hair was swept away due to the winds coming from the blades of the aircraft. You stood there and waited expectantly. You felt queasy and uneasy. The staircase descended down the floor and Marshal Lau approached you. You handed him the extra umbrella you took with you, with shaky hands. He gave you a curt nod and opened the other umbrella for the person following him from behind.

“Oh my God.”

The mashal spoke, “(Y/N), Yuta needs to be sent to the infirmary--”

You saw how Yuta limped. His injuries are seen from afar. Your eyes welled up as you approached his figure cautiously. You cupped his face, his deep, sad eyes staring back into yours. That wasn’t the same eyes you were used to seeing; his eyes were your favorite; it felt so alive, charismatic, full of determination, but those staring back at you are just as black as midnight. Empty. You took a sharp intake of breath. You leaned in, temples touching, you closed your eyes and whispered. “I thought I lost you. Hell, I was so afraid I wasn’t gonna see you again.” The tears finally fell down. It was so melancholic. With the rain, your pounding heart, the man you loved the most stood there looking as lost and hurt. This wasn’t the life you wanted. 

Yuta stared at you intently. Never have he seen someone as ethereal, standing confidently despite the storm paving its way on the base. He observed you, you had blue highlights on your hair, pinkish lips that are kissable, deep eyes—unreadable. It hurt him to see you hurting too. He tried to force a smile, showing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. You sobbed into his chest, “I don’t know what I will do without you.”

Yuta whispered, “You should start standing on your toes. It’ll hurt you more if you rely on me a lot.”

A fortnight. Underbase.

“It's a surprise that there isn’t a Kaiju attack these fortnight. Are they on hibernating mode or something?”

“Trust me marshal, they are preparing for a bigger attack. This isn’t the time we should be letting our guards down.”

Taeyong dissected the heart specimen that lay on the table. Scalpel and tweezers. It was still fresh, its arteries a glowing color of cerulean, the veins are colored a deep crimson. However, it stinks of toxicity and ammonia. Taeyong’s arms are drenched with Kaiju blood and it covered most of the tattoos that lingered on both of his forearms. Sicheng, on the other hand, is writing vigorously on the blackboard. Chalks and dust. Formulas. Numerous data. 

Sicheng voiced out. He pushed the glasses falling from the bridge of his nose, “The Kaiju attacks from the last months as by my calculations were about two and that is the maximum. However, as I’ve outlooked the data given by the other labs, the attacks could multiply and the frequency of Kaiju ambushes could rise for about three or worse four. From Sydney it was two weeks, then a week, then days. No time from preparations, I say. Ergo, your rangers should always prepare for a Kaiju attack from the coast. A category four.”

“Doctor Sicheng, I am about to plan on to group a 2,400 pound of nuclear bomb in the Breach to stop the attacks. Please give me more precise data, not just a prediction.”

Sicheng cleared his throat, “Numbers never lie marshal. They are the most accurate thing and never close to a prediction. The frequency of attacks will increase to the point we couldn’t stand their domination anymore, and--”

Johnny finished the sentence for the doctor, “We’re dead. Alas.”

Sicheng lifted his chin, “Exactly, Lieutenant Johnny.”

Taeyong smirked. Kaiju mucus drenching his surgical gloves, “You speak like a mighty doctor.”

Sicheng gave him a quizzical look, “I speak the truth. Continue on examining Dr. TY.” He clasped his fingers and headed towards his digital monitor, “Here comes the good news.”

The marshal spoke, “We are listening, doctor.”

“You see, the Breach is the gateway. And it is quite confusing as to how the hell is the Kaiju going to different countries like Australia, Alaska, Manila, Japan this comes up to the conclusion that there might be a new portal or much more, several gateways for these monsters. However,” He paused and clicked the enter key, a deep portal showed at the screen, “They only came from one source. Here, deep and close to the Marianas Trench lying underneath the oceans of the Pacific. We disrupt the throat for it to widen, don’t worry, that is its natural structure. It is beyond flexible for the monsters to go through. So, If we disrupt the gateway, that is where we drop the bomb and boom.”

Taeyong butted in, “But we could rely on much, limited data. Hear me out marshal.”

Johnny and Marshal Lau turned towards the other pink-haired doctor, “Do you see how unique these creatures are?”

“They’re not--”

“Some would look like a lizard, next would look like a deadass fish. But despite their appearance, they do share one commonality, they have the same exact DNA.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes, “What are you implying now, doctor?”

“Cloning.”

Yuta entered the laboratory after listening to their complicated discussions. His voice startling the men inside. “I will be piloting Echo Panther, Marshal. That is where you will attach the bombs right?”

“Yuta, Why all of a sudden?”

Yuta gave a half shrug. “This is the best thing I could do, marshal.”

“You’ll die, idiot!”

Yuta deadpanned, “I’m a fucking Jaeger pilot and I’ll die as one. That is something I should boast about.”

The marshal tried to calm his nerves. “This isn’t the right time to boast!”

Yuta gave a solemn look. After the incident, he contemplated that participating in this mission is something that could cut his time-bomb. He made sure to spend his remaining days making himself busy, pushing you aside from his systems, even if it's painful for his part. It was a dick and dumb move, but he knew spending his limited days with you would cause damage to you and to him as well. He made sure to avoid you. “Marshal, I told you that I loved my mother right?”

Marshal Lau crossed his brows, “Yes.”

“And do you know what she did to prove her love to me? She sacrificed herself, for my own fucking sake.” He paused, fist clenching. The tremors are back, again. The marshal gave him  a concerned look. Yuta continued on, “Even if I choose not to participate in the mission, I would still die, it's all useless, marshal. Living is something out of my vocabulary.”

“This suggestion of yours will lead you to your death. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I know, but if it means keeping everyone safe, keeping my (Y/N) safe, it’s worth everything even if it costs me.”

“What about (Y/N)?” Yuta didn’t answer him. Instead, he gave a rose drenched in resin and a flash drive.

Yuta breathed, “Give that to her after this mission.”

The three of you entered the facility. Then the marshal took a left turn, towards the base’s large elevator. Marshal Lau spoke up, “We will take a look at the facility first, then (Y/N) will take you to Echo Panther. Copy that Yuta?”

“Yes Sir.”

You snapped back, turning your head towards the marshal and your boyfriend. “What Echo Panther? Is there something I missed out marshal?”

The door was about to close when a frantic screaming interrupted you from pushing the buttons of the lift closed. 

“Coming through!” Two pinked haired doctors scrambled inside the enormous lift. They pushed a Kaiju specimen through, crowding the space. The marshal pushed the button this time, giving you a meaningful look. Yuta felt the glass behind his back. The doe-eyed doctor wailed, “You are still injured, Yuta!” The elevator gave a sudden jolt, and descended downwards.

Yuta cajoled. Smiling wide. You were stunned at Yuta’s behavior. The time you saw him get down at the chopper since his last mission there was only one word that could describe him; lost. But the guy in front of you is really different, let alone he is acting as if nothing happened. “It's been a fortnight, doctor. I’m perfectly fine.”

You eyed Yuta. He’s been acting distant around you, and he seemed to be keeping things to himself. He was also acting differently around you; he never allowed you to nurse his injuries, or he never initiated intimate contacts with you unlike before. He acts completely different as if you weren’t molded as one. Dr. Taeyong spoke, “Just call me TY.” Yuta eyed the Kaiju tattoo lingering on Taeyong’s arm. 

Yuta continued to eye the tattoo and spoke towards the doctor, “Is that Tailjaw?”

Dr. Taeyong smirked, “A good eyesight you have. Yes it is. Truly one of the fascinating things I have ever seen.”

“Mark and I have taken them down in 2018. A category 3 as I could recall.” You blinked hard. Yuta made sure to not waste some dead air to let you interrupt. You tried to initiate a conversation but you were cut mid-way. You gritted your teeth

Dr. Sicheng interjected, “The only thing that fascinated you TY is that it’s heart still pounds even after its three long hour death.”

Taeyong spatted back, “And that was really fascinating, tell me otherwise or I’ll fight you Dong Sicheng!”

The elevator’s door with a loud hiss. You and Marshal Lau have stepped out. Yuta gave Dr. Ty a pat on the shoulders, “Kaijus were never fascinating, doctor. They are killers, ruthless blue-blooded creatures.” And he stepped out. 

He followed the two figures ahead of him, “Your research team is quite peculiar.”

Marshal spoke, “The two of them can outnumber a whole squad of researchers. They are pretty talented and brainy.”

The marshal gave Yuta a look, “Knowledge is always the outermost defense, Yuta.”

Pissed is an understatement, you couldn’t describe the anger boiling inside your gut. You pressed a series of codes on the biometric attached to the wall. The electronic beeps after your taps. The heavy secured door opened. Marshal Lau raised his right arm, “Welcome to the Underbase, again.”

People from the Underbase clamored around. Gulf carts beeping. Machineries wailing. Three tall Jaegers stood on each of the base’s corners. There are lights everywhere. Indistinctive radio sounds and chatters.Yuta turned around the base, his face awe-stricken. Above the large doors was a large digital clock.

The marshal’s voice boomed, “War clock. I hope we could reset it after your mission.”

Yuta narrowed his eyes, “I guarantee that.”

“We are lucky that they aren’t attacking, it surely gave us time to prepare.”

You interjected, “Excuse me marshal. But Yuta couldn’t participate in a mission. Can’t you see? He is still injured for heaven’s sake!”

The marshal looked at you, “He reported to me and said that he was perfectly fine.”

You stopped in your tracks and yanked Yuta’s arm, he voiced out, “Why?”

“What the fuck is running inside your mind Yuta?”

He looked straight into your eyes. No signs of love nor light. He glanced at you as if you were just an ordinary colleague, “Nothing. We should be going.” He left you there astounded. 

“It is. That is Tanker Shoalin. Assembled in Hong Kong, one of the greatest. Large titanium core, powered digitally. That machine eats up a lot of diesel. That will run up for your defense.” The marshal trailed. Yuta glanced up to see Tangker Shoalin. It was standing a hundred foot tall. It colored a deep color of indigo. Shimmering due to metal. “She’s piloted by the Wong brothers. Lucas, Kun and Hendery. Don’t be deceived by their soft looks, they are precise fighters, deadly. Defended the borders of China, nine times. They used their signature move, the triple tiger claw.”

“I knew of that technique. That was powerful.” He glanced at the brothers on the bench. Pretty busy with their own businesses. They wore a leather jacket, and their hair was colored a vibrant color of violet, pink and green. From Yuta’s left, a heavy duty grey Jaeger stood. 

The marshal pointed at it. “That one was the last of the first generation Mark 01 models, Hunger Mercenary. It may look as if it could be slammed down easily. But don’t be fooled, Yuta. That one is a bloodlust killing machine.” He paused, “Those two,” he pointed at the two men in a deep army green suit, “Doyoung and Jaehyun piloted the Hunger Mercenary.”

He stared at the figure of Kim Doyoung and Jung Jaehyun, “Yes, I have heard of them. New York based. Deadly killers.”

“Exactly. Gates under their watch remain unbreachable.”

You stared at Yuta. Eyes narrowing. He was observing the first generation Mark model. Then a booming voice caught all of your attention. Lieutenant Johnny approached the marshal, “Marshal. A pleasant morning.”

The marshal nodded, “To you too, Johnny.”

The lieutenant blinked. He stood tall, he had a new cut; an undercut. “Hey, Yuta. Oh, hey (Y/N)” Yuta nodded. You gave the lieutenant a faint smile. Johnny raised a brow; he is quite surprised at both of your behaviiors. You were both inseperable; clingy and full of love. The couple before him acted as if they despised each other. Johnny cleared his throat and gave Yuta a sullen look, “I’m sorry for the loss of your brother.”

Yuta only nodded. The marshal spoke again, “His cousin, Haechan will be your co-pilot in Echo Panther towards the Breach. That machine is as mighty as flash, quite fast and the last generation of the Mark 06.”

Yuta narrowed his eyes, “We’d be compatible. I’ve ran combat against Haechan before.”

“That’s a good thing. In that way we could stop the monsters from going in and out of our world as if they own the place. The Russians have given us enough resources such as nuclear missiles to be attached to Jaeger’s back.”

You clicked your tongue, “So you have a plan? What is my purpose then? To be an ornament?”

The marshal smiled, “An ornament is a fancy word, (Y/N). You are a warrior and so you will be backing the machine up to successfully enter the Breach.”

You snapped, “How could I back the Jaeger marshal? When you keep your plans to yourselves? My boyfriend doesn’t even talk to me as if I’ve got his fucking tongue.”

Marshall Lau blinked. This was the reason why he is opposed to Yuta’s request; you will be enraged once you find out. The Marshal called for Johnny’s attention, “Let us go to the control base.”

You raised your voice in annoyance, “Fucking hell, marshal. I feel like a fucking joke!”

Yuta cleared his throat, “Let’s go.”

“I won’t. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Johnny fidgeted and bowed his head awkwardly towards Yuta, “The mission’s tomorrow. Let me know if you need something.”

Yuta answered back, “Thank you, sir.”

You cleared your throat, “Well? If you won’t talk, then I’m out.”

This is what they feared. What Yuta feared.

Your boots clanked every step you took. Yuta followed you from behind. There are electric sparks everywhere. The people were busy. Welding. Yuta heaved a sigh. Echo Panther stood there; tall, mighty and beautiful as ever. Beside it was Gipsy Danger, its familiar yellow windshield is noticeable from a distance. Memories came flooding his mind again, where he used to pilot the machine back in their glory days, with his best friend, his brother, Mark Lee. “She’s beautiful as ever.”

You tried to conceal your annoyance. “The last among the Mark 03. I made some major improvements on her model. Her nuclear core is powered tremendously, more stronger than before. There are weapons added, missile launches, laser ammos, et cetera.”

“She looked so new.”

“Better than new.” Yuta gave you a look. A look that you wish to see everyday. It is a glance that a man ever gave to a woman he truly admires, he truly loved.

“How do you like your new toy now, handsome boy?” Taeil walked on the metal platform. Yuta grinned widely and tackled the operator. 

“Good to see you, my man, Taeil.”

Taeil chucked, “Good old times. Where the hell have you been?”

“The infirmary,” Yuta inquired, “Ready for tomorrow?”

“I’m always ready.”

You stalked away; annoyance taking a toll on you. You glanced behind your shoulder and made sure to raise your voice for him to hear, “We better talk Nakamoto Yuta. I’m tired of guessing what the hell in running inside that pretty head of yours.”

Yuta entered his room, it looked similar, untouched, unfolded. It was a fortnight since he’d last slept in his room. Last night he was here; he was making love to you. Holding you close to him. Kissing passionately as if there is no tomorrow. But things have changed. Yuta cozened himself  with vain hopes and fake smiles, acting as if everything’s fine. The room looked lonely, empty, rusty. He turned to look at you. His eyes unfathomable, “What is it that you want to know?”

You let out an exasperated smile, “Stop acting so inconspicuous. I know something’s going on.”

“There is. Kaiju everywhere. I’m sure you know of these, (Y/N)”

You yelled, “I’m not fucking stupid, Yuta! Do you really enjoy doing this? Acting as if I’m not existing? This is bullshit, Yuta! Stop acting like a dick!”

There was a long silence. It was deafening.  

Yuta raised his brows, “I don’t understand why you are acting like this, (Y/N)”

“I’m acting like this because of you! You’re acting like a jerk!” You called out. Your fists balled up to fists; shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes glistened with tears.

Yuta chuckled bitterly, “Oh. I had no choice.”

Tears started to fall from your eyes.“Were you trying to destroy us?” You wiped your tears aggressively, inhaling rapid breaths,  “How do you sleep at night?”

Yuta let out a long, slow, exhale and ran a finger on his dirty blonde locks, “What I’m doing is for us, (Y/N). You’ll understand.”

“Did you expect this to turn out better? Yuta, what you are doing is bullshit!”

“I never meant to hurt you, you know?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you did. For the weeks that passed, I was longing for you! I wanted to take care of you, but all you did was to push me away!” You sobbed, vision blurring with tears, “Tell me where did I go wrong, huh? Yuta, tell me!”

Yuta exhaled, giving you a cold stare, “Aren't you tired? Can we just stop this and give our hearts rest?”

You choked back your tears. The universe you are both in—is indeed in chaos. However, that chaos didn’t stop both of your feelings for each other. It was a feeling so rare, raw, full of love. This universe both you are in, gave a lesson to make introductions for lovers that are destined to do great things together, to seize the limited moment the universe has to give to the both of you. Yet the introductions can take time, can be staggered over weeks, months or years. In those times, you and Yuta have sorted out things; to not further complicate everything and stress each other out. This is what you’ve feared, when the time comes, the time of separation, the downfall of the love you both have established for so long. The pain ransacked your systems. It acts like a focusing lens; memories have flooded your mind, flashing towards the next. You saw that one time; the purity of his love, his words echoing in your ears; that you were the only one lover for his lifetime. Then all of a sudden, the jittery feeling collapsed. 

Your vision is blurred; you tried to hold anything to prevent you from collapsing. This wasn’t the ending you wished. Never in your life wished to have this dreadful moment; you slapped your cheeks. In attempt to slap out of the paranoia your mind is molding in; but failed. What you are seeing, hearing, feeling—they are all fucking true. The piercing pain, it is present. He approached your figure, you took a step backwards. His breath fanned your face, “I’m already tired, (Y/N). Let go of me, remove me from your system as if I never occupied it in the first place. I don’t deserve you nor you deserved me.”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I am not, (Y/N). I need air, having you with me, suffocates me.”

You exhaled and looked intently at his eyes. You sounded wounded and incredulous. Your voice is cracking, your heart pounding hard. You tried to reach out for him but he took a step back, “Please, please just give me another chance.”

Yuta stood there with an unreadable expression plastered on his face. He whispered,“Leave me alone, (Y/N).”

You blinked. Your chest is heaving up and down. You couldn't help but compare the night with his own state of mind. Just like those clouds, your insides were in chaos. A mess. “Why? Yuta, why?” You tried to reason out this unbearable burning but your mind is in an endless swirl of darkness. Everything felt so confusing, a joke; just like a jumbled set of a puzzle.

“The one you love most isn't always the one you spend your life with. I’m not the guy for you.”

You blinked. His expression darkened. You tried to convince him, it might just be Mark’s death as to why he is acting this way.“You were always the one, Yuta. Where did I go wrong? I will try to change, please.. Just don’t.. I love you so much.” Your emotions turn jagged, insides tight.

His tone was cold. “I know you love me, but I'm sick of lying when I say it back.”

You gasped and clutched your chest. Yuta did everything. Almost everything. Disobeyed a direct order, fucked his subjects, fucked you, loved you, killed, lost someone, everything. But, making you cry wasn’t part of his agenda. He had his reasons, he loved you so much. But for him, this is the thing he should be doing. He had already made a mistake, and he surely doesn’t want to commit it again. He disobeyed the orders of the marshal just to save the people from the vessel. If he just listened, Mark could've been breathing up to this day, fighting with him. But, what he did was for the greater good, and choosing has always come with a price and a consequence. 

What he did will surely give you a scar. But he would rather choose to be hated by his love rather than having you suffer forever. Waves of melancholy pooling over you. You bit down your lip, and dropped your gaze. “How could you do this to me? After everything we’ve been through?

You raised your head and saw Yuta. His figure is far from you; away from your reach. He graciously stalked around his room; topless. Several vertical scars lingered on his shoulder blades, his biceps, on his latissimus dorsi. That was the scars from his battle. The scar that reminded him of his loss. You stared at his figure intently. He had defined muscles; his abs are sticking out, his overall physique is a viewpoint and enough evidence of how well-trained and strong his body is. A body of a true ranger. A Jaeger Pilot. Both of your eyes locked. 

"People change, and people grow. And I think we just grew apart."

“That is stupid, Yuta!”

“Once, a long time ago, I thought I loved you. I do, but everything has its ends."

You were a big fan of literature. Yuta knew that. And one poem struck to your mind, 

"Of all nights, today's the one that had to break my heart fully and irreversibly."--A. M. Wolowicz

Yuta had molded your heart, took care of it, guarded it. But he was also the one who crushed it to pieces to the point, you were so lost, you can’t think of how to mend it back in one.

Military Time: 2100 hours.

“Marshal, the nuclear has been attached to Echo Panther’s back.”

“That’s good.”

“There’s one thing.”

The marshal stopped on his tracks, “What is it?”

“About Yuta.”

The marshal gave the staff a meaningful stare, “Is anything wrong?”

The staff shook his head, no. “The ranger wants to tell you that he’ll be stopping taking in his medication. And he also said to not engage his pod.”

The marshal narrowed his eyes. “Why so?”

“He didn’t disclose anymore, sir.”

The marshal exhaled, “Understood. Is the Jaeger ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are the movements?”

“Along Hong Kong, sir. Then, deep in the breach.”

“How many signatures are noted?”

“Three, sir. Category five.”

“Gather all the Jaegers.”

“Marshal.”

The marshal turned around and saw your figure. You look dishevelled, ruined, broken.

“How can I help you, (Y/N).”

“Place me in the control base.”

“Will do.”

“Movement in the Breach. Double event.”

The alarm wailed inside the control lab. There was a movement, after two weeks of calm, the demons are now starting to strike. Category four.  Taeil looked at his flashing monitor, a doughnut in hand. He called in all the staff. The pilots of Hunger Mercenary; Jung Jaehyun and Kim Doyoung are in the base; in their deep green metal suits. Jaehyun and Doyoung stood tall and glorious. The Wong brothers; Lucas, Kun and Hendery, pilots of Taker Shaolin, has worn their glossy red suits. Hairs are noticeable from afar. Your figure is standing near the consoles. You searched for the familiar figure of Yuta. And there he stood, beside Haechan both in you midnight black metal suits. 

Taeil walks in the base, back and forth. “Double signatures. Code name Tailcleaver and Thornbreaker and one, unidentified. They’ll reach Hong Kong in an hour.”

Marshal Lau’s voice boomed, alerting all the staff, “Evacuate the city, shut down the bridges. All people should be in refuge. Hunger Mercenary,” he looked at Jaehyun and Doyoung, “Tanker Shaolin,” then towards the Wong brothers, “I want you guard the harbor. Echo,” Then he gave a glance towards Yuta and Haechan, “Stay back at the miracle mile. You are the final option, we cannot afford to lose you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.”

The metals are thudding as the choppers are set to fly out the three Jaegers to the coast lines. There are indistinct radio chatters heard. The pilots are alert, adrenaline pumping in. The orders of the marshal booming in their p.a systems, “Guys be alert. These are category 4s, large in both size and weight.

Jaehyun spoke, “We are near the coast line. Disengaging transport.” The choppers rope disengaged from their Jaeger, and the machine descended downwards. The Wong brother’s have already disengaged their transport as well; their Jaeger dropping onto the oceans. The Jaegers walked along the oceans; creating massive waves after their strides. The night was calm; eerie. Lucas sensed a movement from his right; three o’ clock. The Kaiju was swimming silently, moving fast. The Kaiju looked similar to a large lizard. Its feet were a bed of gloopy pustules; grotesque. Its legs are as thick as tree trunks. The Kaiju’s skin is so thick; leathery; with occasional blue scales lingering on its back. They also do have ginormous torsos, body covered in scales. Each step it took, made the ground shake. A roar. Height tall as a skyscraper. Teeth like rows of ebony daggers. Small beady, ruthless eyes searching for its enemy. The doctor wasn’t wrong when he said the Kaijus were adapting; they were surprisingly fast, agile, strong. The stench of raw flesh on it's humid breath, a glowing blue light illuminated its throat. Flaring nostrils. It was thrashing its tail as it took a fast movement, taking the pilots by surprise. It stood up tall. An ear-splitting roar like thunder booming.

From the right; three o’ clock of the Wong brother’s Jaeger. The Kaiju appeared; its tail sweeping from left to right. Its roar resonated along the coastline. Then, it took a sudden turn, it’s tail aimed for the Jaeger’s torso. The pilots grunted; the hull they were shook at the attack. They recovered from its attack. Kun instructed to engage the nuclear missiles and aimed fully at its throat. There was a loud splash, followed by a spine-chilling shriek. 

From the base, Taeil noted the missile launch. His fingers typing vigorously. “One down. The other one is attacking Jaehyun and Doyoung.”

The marshal squinted his eyes, “The unidentified?”

“It’s staying on the portal. Stationary.”

“And what are they up to?”

Taeil shrugged, “Echo Panther will find out about it soon,” he pressed a red button, “Dyoung, Jaehyun, what’s the situation?”

A string of curses unraveled from Jaehyun’s tongue, like a yarn unfurling. The Kaiju advanced. It's golden scales shimmered with hot anger along with it's dark, cold, beady eyes. Doyoung hissed as they staggered from its attack, their metal harness shaking at the aftermath. “This is one son of a bitch.” The Kaiju roared. Jaehyun and Doyoung took a swift punch. But the Kaiju struck up its sharp claw onto Hunger Mercenary’s torso; holding it to its place. The pilot grunted and shouted in pain. The Kaiju roared loudly; as its throat expanded; a glowing cerulean blue liquid spewed out from its mouth. Doyoung yelled, “Marshal, it purged out some type of acid. It is slowly penetrating through the hull.”

“Engage the nuclear bomb and attach to the pod. Now!”

From the base. You watched the electrocardiogram on the digital screens. The electrical signals of the pilots moving in a normal manner. The electrodes are placed on their chest to record the heart's electrical signals, of which causes the heart to beat. The signals are shown as waves. The Wong’s waves were moving fast a while ago; it signified stress. Jaehyun and Doyoung’s waves were also moving at a fast pace. Haechan and Yuta’s waves are moving calmly. Normal. You sighed as you fidgeted on your seat. 

“Missile Launching. Alarm Code Red.”

Doyoung and Jaehyun were now heading for their security pod. The AI is counting to five and for five seconds, they have to get the hell out of the JAeger. Otherwise, they will be fried to death. There was a loud blast. The people from the city wailed. Panic. Chaos. Then, loud roar followed by a blinding light. 

The marshal grumbled, “What is the health rate of the pilots of Hunger Mercenary?”

“Jaehyun passed out, he got delayed and thus, hit his head inside the pod.”

“Assessment?”

“Dyoung’s vital signs are normal. Jaehyun is unresponsive, I cannot read his pulse.”

“Engage the transport immediately. Lucas, Kun, Hendery, go back to the base. Now! Yuta, Haechan,”

The voice of the two pilots boomed onto the base’ speakers. Yuta’s voice sent a chill towards your spine. “Yes, sir.”

“Transport. Bring Echo Panther to the Breach.”

It's now or never. Yuta held only two choices; to die or to fucking die. And he wishes to die on a Jaeger rather than to die in a hospital 

“All ports sealed, ready to submerge.”

“Roger that.”

“400 miles.”

Doctor TY held the microphone, “Remember, Yuta, Haechan. Attach a Kaiju onto your body for the Breach to open through. This is our only way to get through their den. Take the monsters as a bar code, kaching.”

The ocean was fascinating, deep, eerie, lonely. Such thrills as the ocean could only give. Only the deep sea could bring. Yuta and Haechan walked, their strides heavy, the fall was close. It was like a changing panorama if only the Kaiju’s were not present. A rocky wall, not twenty feet away from them, stood up like a sky-scraper, straight and tall. Here and there it was broken by fissures and caves. Everywhere it was festooned with sea vegetation--seaweed, kelp, anemones. All these, with coral that rose like Gothic architecture, were entrancing. Like a dream come true. Suddenly a Kaiju attacked them from behind.

Yuta groaned, as their metal harness shook from the attack. The alarms are wailing. Then, there was another swing penetrating through Yuta’s side. It shoots a piercing pain onto his legs. You gulped nervously, Yuta’s vital signs and rhythms are going berserk. Wild. Even though he had ended everything, the love you have for the man is still present, even if the pain is taking a toll, corrupting you to blindness. 

Haechan furrowed his brows, “I cannot see anything. It's moving too fast!”

Yuta pushed the p.a button, “Taeil hyung, we can’t see anything!”

“To your left; one o’ clock!”

So far down in the ocean the sunlight is a soft diffuse glow. But for the most part, the ocean is dim, majority; dark. There were once golden rays from above; and it gave a warm blue hue of the waters; and the deeper the Jaeger went through; the darker the blue color they saw. 

The rocks are now silhouettes in the dim. The headlight from the Jaager lit up like the glow of the heat from a winter campfire. There was a lone fish, invisible until it entered the feeble beam. 

With the increasing pressure, Yuta and Haechan begin to feel like the water is becoming thicker, like soup. They glanced upward to the surface and their heart rate rose. It was so deep. The voice of caution whispered softly onto them; not to rise so fast, but it can't break through the scream for unfiltered rays and fresh air. Not, until, a Kaiju roared again and penetrated through their nuclear core.

“Let’s get this son of a bitch!” Yuta engaged the sword and struck it towards the head of the Kaiju. It screamed so loud. Its toxic cerulean blood is gushing onto its penetrated head. Echo Panter took a step while dragging the sword that struck the creatures head near the opening of the Breach. Where the lava spews. The Kaiju gave a loud screech. Its tail swooped from behind taking Yuta and Haechan by surprise. 

“Echo, be alert of a sudden attack!”

The Kaiju swam far away from them. Then, attacked directly at the Jaeger, coming over at full speed. Yuta kneeled, then Haechan raised his arm; sword glistening. The Kaiju’s mouth was wide open; screams and shriek coming out of its throat. But one thing, a Kaiju does not have is a sense of control. If it strikes, they will, and no one’s gonna tell them to maneuver their ways. Haechan grinned as he ripped the Kaiju apart. Yuta grunted as he controlled his body; the aftershock of the attack was heavy for him. Yuta needs to be stable for the Jaeger not to fly out from the assault. Its cerulean blood clinging onto the body of the Jaeger.  Haechan grunted, and folded his arms; finally striking and ripping the creature in half. The sword clamored. The people from the base felt glory. 

“Echo, attach the Kaiju onto your body!”

Echo Panther moved and gripped the Kaiju’s head. The people from the base where expectant; glory is coming their way. Not until, Taeil sensed another. “Fuck.”

Yuta screamed into the p.a. The alarms were not wailing, “The hull is compromised! We can’t shoulder another attack!”

“Jump onto the Breach now!”

“Copy sir!”

All the systems are critical. There is a lot of fluid loss. Code Red. Yuta’s leg was crippled. They held the Kaiju carcass limping, towards the opening. The Breach is a meter away, then the category five Kaiju suddenly appeared in front of them. Haechan gulped. Yuta gritted his teeth in anger. Yuta looked at the younger pilot, “Let’s do this.” Haechan gave him a strong nod. Then, they jumped ahead, with the help of the rear jets. Tackling the Kaiju onto the portal. Then, Haechan lifted his arm and sliced thoroughly onto the Kaiju’s back. The Kaiju screeched. Haechan grunted. Yuta yelled, “Hold on!”

The Kaiju screeched out loud in pain. Its tail swinged upward, attacking the rear part of the Kaiju. Haechan and Yuta were already exhausted. Taeil saw how Haechan’s oxygen levels dropped down fast. His monitor beeping wildly. Half capacity. Haechan felt like drowning. Taeil moved to another monitor, typing as fast; to reroute everything. Yuta yelled, “Hold on! I will burn this motherfucker down!”

Yuta activated the heat purge. The nuclear core flashed; burning the chest of the Kaiju. The creature groaned, and wiggled against the Jaeger’s hold. But their tackles and grip was strong. The fire penetrated through the creature's chest reaching its back. It screeched again, then its eyes turned grey. It fell onto the Jaeger’s chest, limp, unalive. They have reached the opening, electricity around them were whirring.Taeyong was right; the only way to enter the portal is you fool the Breach into believing you are of its people. From Taeel’s screen, Echo Panther’s signature suddenly disappeared. They have now successfully entered the portal, The lair of the demons. 

Oxygen from Haechan’s side was in a critical state. If he continues on, he will die there. And Yuta won’t allow that to happen; he pulled in his oxygen tube and attached it onto the younger’s suit. Haechan gasped for air. His helmet was fogging. He gave a faint smile, “You’ve done a good job, buddy. You know I was a jerk to (Y/N), but please guard her for me. I will finish this alone.” He pressed a series of buttons. Then, the metal harness whirred, sending Haechan’s figure inside the evacuation pod. Haechan’s eyes were heavy. He cannot decipher his surroundings. He gave Yuta a faint smile. He pushed a button then the pod was released ascending towards the surface.

Taeil voiced, “Yuta is giving Haechan his oxygen. He has already ejected the pod.”

You stood up quick. “What happened? What is happening?”

The marshal breathed, “It was his last will, (Y/N).”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand you marshal.” You pushed aside the marshal and spoke onto the microphone, “Yuta! Yuta!”

Yuta smiled, he heard your lovely voice, again. He blinked slowly; his oxygen levels were already low. He activated the nuclear core. There was a countdown. Five. Five seconds to live his life. He smiled, “I love you so much (Y.N). I’ll love you till the last rose dies.” Yuta initiated the reactor override. You blast the Jaeger to pieces; self destructing. The breach was like a large intestine. Pink and full of life. Electricity everywhere. The baby Kaiju chattered. Their beady eyes staring at the Jaeger. Then there was a loud blast. You were startled at the sound. The ECG line of Yuta was beeping, flat. You burst into tears, calling out his name on the microphone, “Yuta! No!”

It was Yuta’s last will. To save the world, to die in a Jaeger and to tell you how much he loved you. He did it. And he was content.

Five years.

It was five years of play-pretend. Finding ways to numb the pain. It was the start of the dark force. Tearing out the sewn paranoia you had. And replaying the pains of your past. You couldn’t forget about Yuta, he was your first love. Yet, after his death, all you could feel was the terrible pain; because of his disappearance. You would wake up in dawn just to cry till you could no longer lash out your tears. It was clarity that brought each of you, molded you to one, then had become one unit of two souls. But right now, your other half is gone, and you were left alone, numb, in pain. You decided to go to the bar. You felt high, in a daze, this was the thing you could do to forget that you are missing Yuta terribly. A guy pushed you in the bathroom, a tequila in your other hand. He began undressing you. You wanted this, to remove the pain. But was it worth doing? He kissed you. The scene was intimate; two people osculated. But in your mind; you wished it was only him, Nakamoto Yuta. He unbuckled his belt and sat on the toilet bowl. He pumped his member, it’s tip oozing. You immediately removed your pants, and panties and climbed onto his lap. You drank the last shots of your alcohol drink and began to thrust. The guy held your waist hard, guiding you up and down. He gave a moan of pleasure. You tilted your head back, tears flooding out of your eyes. You gripped on the metal pole overhead. You sobbed while thrusting deep. It wasn’t pleasure that you were feeling, it was fucking pain. Grief. It was five years of restlessness. If you could just pay to have him back, you would, but you couldn’t. He was now gone, permanently. You felt the pain glowing into your chest. You stopped thrusting and buried your head onto your fuck buddy’s shoulder. 

He hugged you, “Are you good?”

You breathed. You felt bitter, “It’s been so long since I last hugged someone…I had forgotten how it feels like to be held.”

You grabbed the rose from Yuta. His words are still clear in your mind; he won’t stop loving you till the last rose dies. And so, he gave you an undying rose. You felt your vision blurred. You grabbed the flash drive and plugged it into your laptop. Yuta’s gorgeous face came to view and it made you wail. All you did was to cry. 

[1] Formylove.mp4

“Hey love. This took me thirteen fucking tries, and I want to make sure this comes out perfect. Handsome I am right? Hehe.. First of all, I want to apologize for being a jerk to you; it was all an act... I don’t want to make you suffer anymore. You see? I was diagnosed with Helmer’s Myopathy and even if I won’t go on a mission, I will still die.. and so I did what my guts wanted me to do… spend my remaining days in a Jaeger fighting off till my last breath... This two weeks I’m away from you, it felt like hell, fucking hell… I wanted to touch you, hug you, but I did this, I distanced myself from you.. to hate me, because this is the only thing I could do to ease your pain. To replace it with anger. But please.. I love you with all my heart.. I won’t get tired of being with you.. To say that I love you.. I fucking love you so much.. I devote myself to telling you that.. I will always be in your heart, my love. I will never disappear.. If you ever miss me, just close your eyes, and I will appear.. That is how much I love you… What I did was for the greater good.. You deserve a peaceful world, (Y/N), my love. And I am willing to sacrifice myself to offer a serene world, for you. I know how much you love literature, hold on.. I have a quote for you, “I guess that's just part of loving people: You have to give things up.” I will give everything up, just for you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”

im nervous about this but since i didn’t proofread this sike. anyways <3

[a-scanner-darkly]

Karel Vaca (1983) • Czech Film Poster for East German Movie "The Last Chance"

[the-marx-brothers-will-live-on]

Arthur "Harpo" Marx (born Adolph Marx; November 23, 1888 – September 28, 1964) was an American comedian, actor, mime artist, and musician, and the second-oldest of the Marx Brothers. In contrast to the mainly verbal comedy of his brothers Groucho Marx and Chico Marx, Harpo's comic style was visual, being an example of both clown and pantomime traditions. He wore a curly reddish blond wig, and never spoke during performances (he blew a horn or whistled to communicate). He frequently used props such as a horn cane, made up of a pipe, tape, and a bulbhorn, and he played the harp in most of his films.

Harpo was born on November 23, 1888, in Manhattan. He grew up in a neighborhood now known as Carnegie Hill on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, on East 93rd Street off Lexington Avenue. The turn-of-the-century tenement that Harpo later called (in his autobiography Harpo Speaks!) "the first real home I can remember" was populated with European immigrants, mostly artisans—which even included a glass blower. Just across the street were the oldest brownstones in the area, owned by people like David L. Loew and William Orth.

Harpo's parents were Sam Marx (called "Frenchie" throughout his life) and his wife, Minnie Schoenberg Marx. Minnie's brother was Al Shean. Marx's family was Jewish. His mother was from East Frisia in Germany, and his father was a native of Alsace in France and worked as a tailor.

Harpo received little formal education and left grade school at age eight (mainly due to bullying) during his second attempt to pass the second grade. He began to work, gaining employment in numerous odd jobs alongside his brother Chico to contribute to the family income, including selling newspapers, working in a butcher shop, and as an errand office boy.

In January 1910, Harpo joined two of his brothers, Julius (later "Groucho") and Milton (later "Gummo"), to form "The Three Nightingales", later changed to simply "The Marx Brothers". Multiple stories—most unsubstantiated—exist to explain Harpo's evolution as the "silent" character in the brothers' act. In his memoir, Groucho wrote that Harpo simply wasn't very good at memorizing dialogue, and thus was ideal for the role of the "dunce who couldn't speak", a common character in vaudeville acts of the time.

Harpo gained his stage name during a card game at the Orpheum Theatre in Galesburg, Illinois. The dealer (Art Fisher) called him "Harpo" because he played the harp. He learned how to hold it properly from a picture of an angel playing a harp that he saw in a five-and-dime. No one in town knew how to play the harp, so Harpo tuned it as best he could, starting with one basic note and tuning it from there. Three years later he found out he had tuned it incorrectly, but he could not have tuned it properly; if he had, the strings would have broken each night. Harpo's method placed much less tension on the strings.[citation needed] Although he played this way for the rest of his life, he did try to learn how to play correctly, and he spent considerable money hiring the best teachers. They spent their time listening to him, fascinated by the way he played. The major exception was Mildred Dilling, a professional harpist who did teach Harpo the proper techniques of the instrument and collaborated with him regularly when he had difficulty with various compositions.

In the autobiography Harpo Speaks! (1961), he recounts how Chico found him jobs playing piano to accompany silent movies. Unlike Chico, Harpo could play only two songs on the piano, "Waltz Me Around Again, Willie" and "Love Me and the World Is Mine," but he adapted this small repertoire in different tempos to suit the action on the screen. He was also seen playing a portion of Rachmaninoff's "Prelude in C# minor" in A Day at the Races and chords on the piano in A Night at the Opera, in such a way that the piano sounded much like a harp, as a prelude to actually playing the harp in that scene.

Harpo had changed his name from Adolph to Arthur by 1911. This was due primarily to his dislike for the name Adolph (as a child, he was routinely called "Ahdie" instead). The name change may have also happened because of the similarity between Harpo's name and Adolph Marks, a prominent show business attorney in Chicago. Urban legends stating that the name change came about during World War I due to anti-German sentiment in the US, or during World War II because of the stigma that Adolf Hitler imposed on the name, are groundless.

His first screen appearance was in the film Humor Risk (1921), with his brothers, although according to Groucho, it was only screened once and then lost. Four years later, Harpo appeared without his brothers in Too Many Kisses (1925), four years before the brothers' first released film, The Cocoanuts (1929). In Too Many Kisses, Harpo spoke the only line he would ever speak on-camera in a movie: "You sure you can't move?" (said to the film's tied-up hero before punching him). Fittingly, it was a silent movie, and the audience saw only his lips move and the line on a title card.

Harpo was often cast as Chico's eccentric partner-in-crime, whom he would often help by playing charades to tell of Groucho's problem, and/or annoy by giving Chico his leg, either to give it a rest or as an alternative to a handshake.

Harpo became known for prop-laden sight gags, in particular the seemingly infinite number of odd things stored in his topcoat's oversized pockets. In the film Horse Feathers (1932), Groucho, referring to an impossible situation, tells Harpo that he cannot "burn the candle at both ends." Harpo immediately produces from within his coat pocket a lit candle burning at both ends. In the same film, a homeless man on the street asks Harpo for money for a cup of coffee, and he subsequently produces a steaming cup, complete with saucer, from inside his coat. Also in Horse Feathers, he has a fish and a sword, and when he wants to go to his speakeasy, he stabs the fish in its mouth with his sword to give the password, "Swordfish." In Duck Soup, he produces a lit blowtorch to light a cigar. As author Joe Adamson put in his book, Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Zeppo, "The president of the college has been shouted down by a mute."

Harpo often used facial expressions and mime to get his point across. One of his facial expressions, which he used in every Marx Brothers film and stage play, beginning with Fun in Hi Skule, was known as "the Gookie." Harpo created it by mimicking the expression of Mr. Gehrke, a New York tobacconist who would make a similar face while concentrating on rolling cigars.

Harpo further distinguished his character by wearing a "fright wig". Early in his career it was dyed pink, as evidenced by color film posters of the time and by allusions to it in films, with character names such as "Pinky" in Duck Soup. It tended to show as blond on-screen due to the black-and-white film stock at the time. Over time, he darkened the pink to more of a reddish color, again films alluded to it with character names such as "Rusty".

His non-speaking in his early films was occasionally referred to by the other Marx Brothers, who were careful to imply that his character's not speaking was a choice rather than a disability. They would make joking reference to this part of his act. For example, in Animal Crackers his character was ironically dubbed "The Professor". In The Cocoanuts, this exchange occurred:

Groucho: "Who is this?"

Chico: "Dat's-a my partner, but he no speak."

Groucho: "Oh, that's your silent partner!"

In later films, Harpo was repeatedly put in situations where he attempted to convey a vital message by whistling and pantomime, reinforcing the idea that his character was unable to speak.

The Marxes' film At the Circus (1939) contains a unique scene where Harpo is ostensibly heard saying "A-choo!" twice, as he sneezes. It is unclear, however, whether he actually voiced the line, or if he mimed it while someone said it off-camera.

In 1933, following U.S. diplomatic recognition of the Soviet Union, he spent six weeks in Moscow as a performer and goodwill ambassador. His tour was a huge success. Harpo's name was transliterated into Russian, using the Cyrillic alphabet, as ХАРПО МАРКС, and was billed as such during his Soviet Union appearances. Harpo, having no knowledge of Russian, pronounced it as "Exapno Mapcase". At that time Harpo and the Soviet Foreign Minister Maxim Litvinov became friends and even performed a routine on stage together. During this time he served as a secret courier; delivering communiques to and from the US embassy in Moscow at the request of Ambassador William Christian Bullitt, Jr., smuggling the messages in and out of Russia by taping a sealed envelope to his leg beneath his trousers, an event described in David Fromkin's 1995 book In the Time of the Americans. In Harpo Speaks!, Marx describes his relief at making it out of the Soviet Union, recalling how "I pulled up my pants, ripped off the tape, unwound the straps, handed over the dispatches from Ambassador Bullitt, and gave my leg its first scratch in ten days."

The Russia trip was later memorialized in a bizarre science fiction novella, The Foreign Hand Tie by Randall Garrett, a tale of telepathic spies which is full of references to the Marx Brothers and their films (The title itself is a Marx-like pun on the dual ideas of a "foreign hand" and a style of neckwear known as a "four-in-hand tie.")

In 1936, he was one of a number of performers and celebrities to appear as caricatures in the Walt Disney Production of Mickey's Polo Team. Harpo was part of a team of polo-playing movie stars which included Charlie Chaplin and Laurel and Hardy. His mount was an ostrich. Walt Disney would later have Harpo (with Groucho and Chico) appear as one of King Cole's "Fiddlers Three" in the Silly Symphony Mother Goose Goes Hollywood.

Harpo was also caricatured in Sock-A-Bye Baby (1934), an early episode of the Popeye cartoon series created by Fleischer Studios. Harpo is playing the harp, and wakes up Popeye's baby, and then Popeye punches and apparantly "kills" him. (After Popeye hits him, a halo appears over his head and he floats to the sky.)

Friz Freleng's 1936 Merrie Melodies cartoon The Coo-Coo Nut Grove featuring animal versions of assorted celebrities, caricatures Harpo as a bird with a red beak. When he first appears, he is chasing a woman, but the woman later turns out to be Groucho.

Harpo also took an interest in painting, and a few of his works can be seen in his autobiography. In the book, Marx tells a story about how he tried to paint a nude female model, but froze up because he simply did not know how to paint properly. The model took pity on him, however, showing him a few basic strokes with a brush, until finally Harpo (fully clothed) took the model's place as the subject and the naked woman painted his portrait.

Harpo recorded an album of harp music for RCA Victor (Harp by Harpo, 1952) and two for Mercury Records (Harpo in Hi-Fi, 1957; Harpo at Work, 1958).

Harpo made television appearances through the 1950s and 60s, including a 1955 episode of I Love Lucy, in which he and Lucille Ball re-enacted the famous mirror scene from the Marx Brothers movie Duck Soup (1933).[19] In this scene, they are both supposed to be Harpo, not Groucho; he stays the same and she is dressed as him. About this time, he also appeared on NBC's The Martha Raye Show. Harpo and Chico played a television anthology episode of General Electric Theater entitled "The Incredible Jewelry Robbery" entirely in pantomime in 1959, with a brief surprise appearance by Groucho at the end. In 1960, he appeared in an episode of The DuPont Show with June Allyson entitled "A Silent Panic", playing a deaf-mute who, as a "mechanical man" in a department store window, witnessed a gangland murder. In 1961, he made guest appearances on The Today Show, Play Your Hunch, Candid Camera, I've Got a Secret, Here's Hollywood, Art Linkletter's House Party, Groucho's quiz show You Bet Your Life, The Ed Sullivan Show, and Your Surprise Package to publicize his autobiography Harpo Speaks!.

In November 1961 he guest-starred with Carol Burnett in an installment of The DuPont Show of the Week entitled "The Wonderful World of Toys". The show was filmed in Central Park and featured Marx playing "Autumn Leaves" on the harp. Other stars appearing in the episode included Eva Gabor, Audrey Meadows, Mitch Miller and Milton Berle. A visit to the set inspired poet Robert Lowell to compose a poem about Marx.

Harpo's two final television appearances came less than a month apart in late 1962. He portrayed a guardian angel on CBS's The Red Skelton Show on September 25. He guest starred as himself on October 20 in the episode "Musicale" of ABC's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, a sitcom starring Fess Parker, based on the 1939 Frank Capra film.

Harpo married actress Susan Fleming on September 28, 1936. The wedding became public knowledge after President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent the couple a telegram of congratulations the following month. Harpo's marriage, like Gummo's, was lifelong. (Groucho was divorced three times, Zeppo twice, Chico once.) The couple adopted four children: Bill, Alex, Jimmy, and Minnie. When he was asked by George Burns in 1948 how many children he planned to adopt, he answered, "I’d like to adopt as many children as I have windows in my house. So when I leave for work, I want a kid in every window, waving goodbye."

Harpo was good friends with theater critic Alexander Woollcott, and became a regular member of the Algonquin Round Table. He once said his main contribution was to be the audience for the quips of other members. In their play The Man Who Came to Dinner, George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart based the character of "Banjo" on Harpo. Harpo later played the role in Los Angeles opposite Woollcott, who had inspired the character of Sheridan Whiteside.

In 1961 Harpo published his autobiography, Harpo Speaks!. Because he never spoke a word in character, many believed he actually was mute. In fact, radio and TV news recordings of his voice can be found on the Internet, in documentaries, and on bonus materials of Marx Brothers DVDs. A reporter who interviewed him in the early 1930s wrote that "he [Harpo] ... had a deep and distinguished voice, like a professional announcer", and like his brothers, spoke with a New York accent his entire life. According to those who personally knew him, Harpo's voice was much deeper than Groucho's, but it also sounded very similar to Chico's. His son, Bill, recalled that in private Harpo had a very deep and mature soft-spoken voice, but that he was "not verbose" like the other Marx brothers; Harpo preferred listening and learning from others.

Harpo's final public appearance came on January 19, 1963, with singer/comedian Allan Sherman. Sherman burst into tears when Harpo announced his retirement from the entertainment business. Comedian Steve Allen, who was in the audience, remembered that Harpo spoke for several minutes about his career, and how he would miss it all, and repeatedly interrupted Sherman when he tried to speak. The audience found it charmingly ironic, Allen said, that Harpo, who had never before spoken on stage or screen, "wouldn't shut up!" Harpo, an avid croquet player, was inducted into the Croquet Hall of Fame in 1979.

Harpo Marx died on September 28, 1964, (his 28th wedding anniversary), at age 75 in a West Los Angeles hospital, one day after undergoing heart surgery. Harpo's death was said to have hit the surviving Marx brothers very hard. Groucho's son Arthur Marx, who attended the funeral with most of the Marx family, later said that Harpo's funeral was the only time in his life that he ever saw his father cry. In his will, Harpo Marx donated his trademark harp to the State of Israel. His remains were cremated, and his ashes were scattered at a golf course in Rancho Mirage, California.

[illustraction]

WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION (1957) - JURY AND TRIAL IN MOVIES (Part 5/10)

While Billy Wilder is mainly known for his comedies, his 1957 Judicial drama is a masterpiece thanks to an extraordinary cast including Charles Laughton as the old retired British lawyer defending Tyrone Power in a murder case where his wife, Marlene Dietrich, is pure venom.

Above is the original East German movie poster.

Director: Billy Wilder Actors: Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Charles Laughton

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[watusichris]

“Border Radio”: Where Punk Lived

Some years back, I wrote notes for the Criterion Collection’s edition of Allison Anders’ first feature Border Radio for the Criterion Collection. Tomorrow (June 3), Allison will gab about punk rock with John Doe, Tom DeSavia, and my illegitimate son Keith Morris at the Grammy Museum in L.A. in observance of the publication of the book we’re all in, More Fun in the New World (Da Capo).

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“You can’t expect other people to create drama for your life—they’re too busy creating it for themselves,” a punk groupie says at the conclusion of Border Radio. And the four reckless characters at the center of the film certainly manage to create plenty of drama for themselves. In the process, they paint a compelling picture of the Los Angeles punk-rock scene of the 1980s: what it was like on the inside—and what it was like inside the musicians’ heads. Border Radio (1987) was the first feature by three UCLA film students: Allison Anders, Kurt Voss, and Dean Lent. The subsequent work of both Anders and Voss would resonate with echoes from Border Radio and its musical milieu. Anders’s Gas Food Lodging (1992), Mi vida loca (1993), Grace of My Heart (1996), Sugar Town (1999), and Things Behind the Sun (2001) all draw to some degree from music and pop culture. (She quotes her mentor Wim Wenders’s remark about making The Scarlet Letter: “There were no jukeboxes. I lost interest.”) Voss, who co-wrote and codirected Sugar Town, also wrote and directed Down & Out with the Dolls (2001), a fictional feature about an all-girl band; and in 2006, he was completing Ghost on the Highway, a documentary about Jeffrey Lee Pierce, the late vocalist for the key L.A. punk group the Gun Club. The three filmmakers met at UCLA in the early eighties, after Anders and Voss had worked as production assistants on Wenders’s Paris, Texas. By that time, Anders and Voss, then a couple, were habitués of the L.A. club milieu; they favored the hard sound of such punk acts as X, the Blasters, the Flesh Eaters, the Gun Club, and Tex & the Horseheads. The neophyte writer-directors, who by 1983 had made a couple of short student films, formulated the idea of building an original script around a group of figures in the L.A. punk demimonde. Border Radio—which takes its title, and no little script inspiration, from a Blasters song (sung on the soundtrack by Rank & File’s Tony Kinman)—was conceived as a straight film noir. Vestiges of that origin can be seen in the finished film. Its lead character bears the name Jeff Bailey, also the name of Robert Mitchum’s doomed character in Jacques Tourneur’s 1947 noir Out of the Past; its Mexican locations also reflect a key setting in that bleak picture. One sequence features a pedal-boat ride around the same Echo Park lagoon where Jack Nicholson’s J. J. Gittes does some surveillance in Roman Polanski’s 1974 neonoir Chinatown; Chinatown itself—a hotbed of L.A. punk action in the late seventies and early eighties—features prominently in another scene. Certainly, Border Radio’s heist-based plot and the multiple betrayals its central foursome inflict upon each other are the stuff of purest noir. But the film diverges from its source in its largely sunlit cinematography and its explosions of punk humor; Anders, Voss, and Lent also abandoned plans to kill off the film’s lead female character. In casting their feature, the filmmakers turned to some able performers who were close at hand. The female lead was taken by Anders’s sister Luanna; her daughter was portrayed by Anders’s daughter Devon. Chris, Jeff’s spoiled, untrustworthy friend and roadie, was played by UCLA theater student Chris Shearer. The directors considered another student for the lead role of the tormented musician, Jeff, but Anders, in an inspired stroke, suggested Chris D. (né Desjardins), whose brooding, feral presence animated the Flesh Eaters. After being approached at a West L.A. club gig and initially expressing surprise at the filmmakers’ desire to cast him, the singer and songwriter signed on, and he helped recruit the other musicians in Border Radio. (A cineaste whose criticism often appeared in the local punk rag Slash, Desjardins would later write an authoritative book on Japanese yakuza films and write and direct the independent vampire film I Pass for Human. He is currently a programmer at the Los Angeles Cinematheque.) John Doe, bassist-vocalist for the celebrated L.A. punk unit X, and Dave Alvin, guitarist and songwriter for the top local roots act the Blasters, had both played with Chris D. in an edition of the Flesh Eaters. Doe—taking the first in a long list of film and TV roles—was cast as the duplicitous, drunken rocker Dean; Alvin makes an entertaining cameo appearance, essentially as himself, and wrote and performed the film’s score.Texacala Jones, frontwoman for the chaotic Tex & the Horseheads, does a hilarious turn as Devon’s addled babysitter. Iris Berry, later a member of the raucous all-female group the Ringling Sisters, portrays the self-absorbed groupie whose observations frame the film. Julie Christensen, Desjardins’ vocal partner in his latter-day group Divine Horsemen (and, for a time, his wife), essays a bit part as a club doorwoman. Seen in walk-ons are such local rockers as Tony Kinman, Flesh Eaters bassist Robyn Jameson, and punk hellion Texas Terri. The Arizona “paisley underground” transplants Green on Red and the local glam-punk outfit Billy Wisdom & the Hee Shees were captured in live performance. Those seeking punk verisimilitude could ask for nothing more. Border Radio had a torturous, piecemeal production history worthy of John Cassavetes. Shooting took place over a four-year period, from 1983 to 1987. Begun with two thousand dollars in seed money, supplied by actor Vic Tayback, the film scraped by on money given to Voss upon his 1984 graduation from UCLA, a loan from Lent’s parents, and cash and film stock cadged here and there. Violating UCLA policy, the filmmakers cut the film at night in the school’s editing bays, where Anders’s two young daughters would sleep on the floor. The film’s lack of a budget forced Anders, Voss, and Lent to shoot entirely on location; this enhanced the work, as far as the filmmakers were concerned, since they sought a naturalistic style and look for the feature. Lent’s Echo Park apartment doubled as Jeff’s home, while Anders and Voss’s trailer in Ensenada served as his Mexican hideout. The storied punk hangout the Hong Kong Café (whose neon sign can be seen fleetingly in Chinatown) was utilized, as were the East Side rehearsal studio Hully Gully, where virtually every local band of note honed their chops, and the music shop Rockaway Records (one of the few punk stores of the day still around). Befitting the work of film students on their maiden directorial voyage, Border Radio evinces the heavy influence of both the French new wave of the sixties and the New German Cinema of the seventies. The confident use of improvisation—the cast is credited with “additional dialogue and scenario”—recalls such early nouvelle vague works as Breathless. The ongoing “interview” device immediately recalls Jean-Pierre Léaud’s face-to-face with “Miss 19” in Jean-Luc Godard’s Masculin féminin, while Shearer’s shambling comedic outbursts are reminiscent of the sudden madcap eruptions in François Truffaut’s early films. The work of the Germans is felt most in the great pictorial beauty of Lent’s black-and-white compositions; certain striking moments—a languid, 360-degree pan around Ensenada’s bay; an overhead shot of Chris’s foreign roadster wheeling in circles in a cul-de-sac—summon memories of Wenders’s and Werner Herzog’s most indelible images. (Lent would go on to work as a cinematographer on nearly thirty pictures.) Though the styles and effects of these predecessors are on constant display, Border Radio moves beyond simple imitation, thanks to a sensibility that is uniquely of its time, spawned directly from the scene it depicts so faithfully. Though putatively a “music film,” very little music is actually on view in the picture; mere snatches of two songs are actually performed on-screen. The truest reflection of the period’s punk ethos can be found in the restlessness, anger, self-deception, and anomie of its Reagan-era protagonists. In Border Radio, one can see what punk rock looked like, all the way to the margins of the frame: in the flyers for L.A. bands like the Alley Cats, the Gears, and the Weirdos taped in a club hallway, in the poster for Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein and the calendars of L.A. repertory movie houses tacked on apartment walls, in the thrift-store togs and rock-band T-shirts (street clothes, really) worn by the players. But, more importantly, the shifting tragicomic tone of the film, the energy and attitude of its musician performers, and the uneasy rhythms of its characters’ lives present a real sense of the reality of L.A. punkdom in the day. Put into limited theatrical release in 1987, by the company that distributed the popular surf movie Endless Summer—a film that offers a picture of a very different L.A.—Border Radio was not widely seen and later received only an elusive videocassette release through Pacific Arts (the home-video firm founded, ironically enough, by Michael Nesmith of the prefab sixties rock group the Monkees). With this Criterion Collection edition, the film can finally be seen as the overlooked landmark that it is: possibly the only dramatic film to capture the pulse of L.A. punk—not as it played, but as it felt. (Thanks to Allison Anders for her invaluable contributions.)

[study-with-nina]

[taken from my blog]

I'm an avid reader. There's nothing I love more than diving into a new novel, whether it be nonfiction about a recent scientific discovery or a centuries-old classic. In 2018 alone, I read 46 books, and started three more that I will finish in the new year. Since making a commitment for my New Year's resolution to read 40 books in 2018, I have read some astonishingly good novels. Here are ten of my favorites, in no particular order.

[in the interest of transparency, I will note that any books purchased through the links provided will provide you with a discount as well as give me a small commission (:]

1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

This book was actually the first book I read this year, and it still has a special place in my heart. The Book Thief is a story about a young German girl growing up during the Holocaust, and her love of reading that pits her against Hitler's regime. It was refreshingly somber to see the Holocaust era from a new view -- not that of a Jewish person, nor a soldier, but a civilian child growing up surrounded by hate speech and propaganda. Liesel's actions and her love for her little family tugged at my heartstrings many times, and this book is one of the few that makes it onto my "reread someday" list. (P.S., the movie is incredible as well, and is one of the few that seems to follow the book as accurately as possible.)

2. The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

I actually finished this book in record time -- I just could not put it down. The Hate U Give is a gritty, realistic view into what it's like to grow up black in America, and the unique set of challenges that black people face in regards to police brutality and everyday racism -- from friends as well as foes. After 17-year-old Starr witnesses her friend's death at the hands of a cop, she must decide whether to keep her mouth shut or risk bringing attention -- mostly negative -- to herself. Who will believe her, anyway? This book was so profoundly impactful while being written in the voice of a teenage girl, conflicted and alone. Definitely one of my top books of all time.

3. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Honestly, I didn't have high expectations coming into this book. I had seen posters for the movie, and assumed it was just another 3-star read with a profitable idea to make into a movie. I am glad to say that I was wrong. This book, set in the year 2045, follows the adventures of teenager Wade Watts as he navigates the world of the OASIS, an online utopia in which citizens live out their lives, in search of a formidable prize hidden someone in the OASIS's thousands of worlds. Wade is a lower-income resident, and the OASIS is all he has -- so he's willing to risk it all for the chance to win the prize and discover the secret of the online universe's creator. This novel is fast-paced and well-written, and is a must-read for anyone who loves anything 80s, as the challenge is focused around 80s culture. (Call Ferris Bueller -- we're going on one heck of an adventure.)

4. Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Despite the books listed previously, I typically tend to read nonfiction or classic literature, and don't often branch out into contemporary fiction. But I had heard rave reviews of Little Fires Everywhere, so I decided to check it out, and it quickly became a favorite of mine. The narrative reminds me of that of East of Eden by John Steinbeck, my favorite novel of all time, in the way that it follows the struggles and interconnectedness of a family, somehow without having an explicitly describable plot ("I don't know, they just...exist") but still managing to pull you in just as deep. Like East of Eden, Little Fires Everywhere follows the story of two very different families: the Richardsons, a large, wealthy family with multiple strong, conflicting personalities; and the Warrens, a small, close-knit mother and daughter duo who never lay roots in any one place. The story has a sort of coming-of-age feel to it, as the lives of the Richardson and Warren teens and their age-appropriate struggles are discussed, but also a hint of mystery as Mrs. Richardson attempts to track down the origins of the mysterious Mia Warren. This book made me laugh, cry, and everything in between, and I was so obsessed that I finished the 11-and-a-half-hour-long audiobook in the span of five days (despite the fact that I worked double shifts most of those days). Again, this book is definitely one of my favorites of all time, and one of the rare stories whose characters you still wonder about long after the book is over.

5. Misbehaving: The Making of Behavioral Economics by Richard H. Thaler

I have never taken an economics course (though I have dabbled in Crash Course videos here and there) and economics is not an important component of either of my majors (Biological Sciences and Political Science). However, this book was so intriguing that I promptly forgot both of those points. Misbehaving is an excellent introduction to behavioral economics, written simply enough that someone with little to no background knowledge in economics (such as myself) can comprehend, but still intricate enough that the material couldn't fit in a ten-minute Youtube video. Thaler, one of the earliest behavioral economists, describes how the subject came into importance among other economic and business-related topics, as well as how its marriage of economic and financial principles and behavioral psychology lend important insights to businesses as well as individuals. The difficulty of the content is offset with plenty of easy-to-understand examples, and the book reads like a history driven by discovery, with reviews of behavioral economics principles along the way. Though the subject of economics is not one that interests me as much as, say, politics or medicine, I still thoroughly enjoyed this book, and would recommend it as an interesting read that serves as a light workout for your brain.

6. The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women” by Kate Moore

I'd be lying if I said this book didn't make me cry multiple times. The Radium Girls is a true story of America's dial painters, the hundreds of young women who painted radium onto watches during the First World War, and the consequences of their position on their health and livelihood. In the days of World War I, jobs for women were few and far between, and becoming a dial painter was the most coveted position among women in their late teens and early twenties, unmarried and looking for some pocket money to buy the latest trends. This narrative follows the story of these dial-painters and how their distinct, omnipresent glow of radium dust went from being wondrous to becoming deadly. As the poisonous radium attacked these young women's bodies, causing them to rapidly and irreparably decay, the radium girls fought for the right to be heard, and to stop the radium industry from pulling any more girls into its vehement trap. This book was deeply heart-wrenching, following the lives of a few bright-eyed young dial painters to their young graves, and a valuable insight into the suppression of women's voices in the early 20th century.

7. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

This novel was another popular book that I didn't expect to enjoy nearly as much as I did. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is a biography of the life of fictitious movie star Evelyn Hugo, as told to the young and relatively unknown reporter Monique Grant. Evelyn unfurls her story, from escaping poverty to begin her acting career in her late teens, and the myriad of men that came into and left her life across the span of her career and its aftermath. I won't spoil the big twist (or two) that the novel provides, but it most certainly wasn't the "straight bullsh*t" I was expecting based on its title. It is an intense, poignant life of a woman who dared to obtain what she wanted by any means possible, only to discover that her heart lied elsewhere.

8. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

This book was a humorous yet momentous glance into the life of a woman named Eleanor Oliphant, who is perfectly fine, thank you very much. Eleanor doesn't really fit in at the office; her harsh realism and her inability to understand social cues make that quite difficult. But that's fine, because Eleanor has it all planned out. Every week, she follows the same plan, never deviating from her schedule of Wednesday night calls with Mummy, Friday night frozen pizzas, and sleeping off a vodka hangover every Saturday morning. However, when Eleanor and her coworker Raymond save the life of an elderly gentleman who fell near them on their way to work one day, Eleanor's life begins to change in profound ways, and she realizes that maybe "fine" isn't the best way to be, after all. Eleanor's story was touching yet hilarious, and was yet another novel that I could not put down. For anyone looking for a novel starring an out-of-the-ordinary heroine and lacking a predictable romance component, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is the novel for you.

9. The President is Missing by Bill Clinton and James Patterson

This fast-paced, gritty novel breaks the wall between the life of a president and the nation, and introduces us to the world of Washington politics and the counterterrorism approach. The President is Missing follows President Duncan, a tenacious war veteran, as he attempts to circumvent impeachment trials brought forth by members of the opposite party while maintaining the secret of a massive, nation-decimating cyber threat from the citizens of the U.S. This narrative is fast-paced, with twists and turns at every stop, and kept me guessing until the end what the outcome would be. The novel reads like a classic James Patterson thriller with the added expertise of a former president to reveal the intricacies of American politics and the battles of the elites.

10. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

My final novel is one that I finished a mere four days prior to writing this post, but one that already has a special place in my heart. Quiet explores the world of introverts, from their underrepresentation in U.S. culture and their hidden talents unique from extroverts. Though I identify as an ambivert (both extroverted and introverted), I felt this was an incredible analysis into the powers of introverts, and why American society should stop trying to force the extrovert ideal on those that are not born to be extroverted. I particularly enjoyed how Cain drew in principles of biology, psychology, and business, and described not only how introverts are wired differently from birth, but their benefits to jobs that are even as high-stakes and fast-paced as the stock market. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who struggles with introversion (if you dread speaking in front of a class, this is probably you) or anyone interested in the biological basis of personality and behavior.

Out of the 46 books I read in 2018, those are the ones that have stood out to me the most, and I would certainly recommend each and every one of them. If you would like more book recommendations, feel free to ask -- I'm always reading something new! Happy new year!

[nomallmovieschicago]

14 September 2018

Film: WHERE HANDS TOUCH (d. Amma Assante, 2018, UK)  

Forum: AMC River East   Format: DCP

Observations: This film arrived with no advance publicity, not even poster art, right on the heels of its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival. Amma Asante (BELLE; A UNITED KINGDOM) again helms a period movie, set near the end of the Second World War, telling the story of one of thousands of Black Germans who lived under the Third Reich in perpetual fear of capture and incarceration.  It is an unexpected, well-told tale of racial and national identity, and it does not try to tie up every loose end. One is reminded of Frank Borzage’s THE MORTAL STORM, about who ascending fascism rended families, lovers, and entire communities. Unfortunately, the chatter about the film was mainly about one thread of the plot (where the young woman falls in love with a German boy who then winds up as a camp guard), which utterly discouraged anyone right-minded folks from attending. We were two of five people in the theatre for this screening, and one couple left midway through.

[chiseler]

VAUDEVILLE & BROADWAY THE HARD WAY

Like a lot of poor kids on the Lower East Side around the start of the twentieth century. the brothers Cliff and Max Gordon turned to show business as a way up and out. Cliff, who was older, made it big in vaudeville, and in effect it killed him. Max became one of the most successful producers in Broadway history, and survived to write a memoir about it.

They were born Morris and Mechel Saltpeter in 1880 and '92, two of eight kids. Their parents had grown up and married in a village in Poland. They were strict Orthodox Jews who spoke Yiddish, never learning English or participating much in American life. Dad, bearded and pious as a rabbi, pressed pants in a Montgomery Street sweatshop for eleven dollars a week. Mom kept house. Old-school Orthodox tradition condemned theater and movies as time-wasting frivolities. In his memoir Max Gordon Presents Max says his mother never saw a movie and came to only one of the many shows he mounted. At first the family squeezed into three rooms in a tenement on Goerck Street (now Baruch Place), and shared an outhouse behind the building with the other tenants. Later they moved a short distance to a four-room tenement apartment with a bathroom at the end of the hall on Lewis Street.

Cliff left school at the age of twelve to contribute to the family's income. In his teens he started hanging out at the variety theaters on the Bowery with a pal of his, Will Fox. Born Wilhelm Fried in Hungary in 1879, Will was brought to the Lower East Side when he was nine months old. Impressed with the "Dutch" (German) antics of the comedy duo Weber & Fields, who were Lower East Side guys themselves, the teens simply copied them. Cliff played the Fields part, Will did Weber. They got small bookings in and around the city, making five or ten bucks a night. Cliff's parents were not happy, but they couldn't stop him.

According to Upton Sinclair Presents William Fox, an as-told-to biography, one night after a gig in Bayonne Cliff and Will found that the booker had absconded with their pay. Penniless, they walked from Bayonne to Jersey City, where Will found a bit of cardboard and a pencil and made a sign, BLIND. He hung it on Will and stood him next to the ferry entrance with his hand out as the morning commuters headed across the river for Manhattan. They not only earned their two-cent fares but reached New York with four cents extra. Another time they did their schtick in Arlington Hall on St. Mark's Place as part of a benefit for the former welterweight prizefighter Spike Hennessey, who was then battling consumption. The audience booed and hissed them; Spike was so angry at them for ruining the evening that he refused to pay them, and socked Cliff in the eye as well. "When Cliff arrived home with one eye and no money, and told his father what had happened, his father punched the other eye and blacked that," Sinclair writes.

Fox gave up performing, but went on to a big career in movies, building the empire that became Twentieth Century Fox. Cliff stuck with performing and soon got a slot as the Dutch comic with Al Reeve's Big Beauty Show. Born in 1864, Reeves had grown up Catholic in the Five Points, a policeman's son. By fourteen was performing on the Bowery as a banjo-plucking blackface minstrel. Through the 1880s he toured the early vaudeville and burlesque circuits. He billed himself as The World's Greatest Banjoist and Comedian, and although by contemporary reports he was neither, he was an impressive, bigger-than-life presence on stage and off. As he got famous he sported a lot of diamonds and other jewels on his person, and got himself a diamond-encrusted banjo.

By the early 1890s he was producing and emceeing his own burlesque revues, which were considered among the finest of the era. Burlesque wasn't yet equated with striptease; it was more like a minstrel show or vaudeville with a leg show as the centerpiece. "Dirty" burlesque and stripping came along in the next century. The Big Beauty Show featured up to forty girls. Al claimed to have invented the tableau vivant, in which they posed as "living statues" in classical, mythological or just fanciful scenarios, any excuse for them to appear without a lot of clothes on. They couldn't move a muscle, or cops might stop the show for lewd behavior. Comics, musical acts and Reeves himself rounded out the bill. A young Al Jolson got work touring with Reeves. In The Jazz Singer, when Jolson does the fingers-in-the-mouth bird-whistling break in "Toot, Toot Tootsie," he's showing off a trick he learned from Reeves. Jolson's whole peppier-than-thou approach to blackface performance showed a lot of Reeves' influence.

Max was nine when Cliff took him to a matinee of the Reeves revue at Miner's Bowery Theatre. It was Max's first time in a theater. He remembered that though the chorus girls were big and fleshy they were also "gay, spritely, buoyant, full of grace and delight." He was agog at Reeves, "the grandest man I had ever seen," and all his jewels. Cliff, in baggy trousers and long frock coat, with a loopy bow tie under a fly-away collar (think Professor Irwin Corey), was then perfecting his signature routine, "the German Senator." It was a combination of a Dutch act and a minstrel show stump speech, a comic monologue on political and social topics of the day. "Friendts and Vellor Voters," Cliff would begin, "I am gladt to address such a massage of beoples, and vill distress you mit all der elephance dot is in me." He'd go on in that vein to crack jokes about whoever was president at the time, the newfangled automobile, trade unions, women's suffrage, whatever was in the headlines. Max was entranced and began haunting the variety and vaudeville houses on the Bowery and around Union Square.

Max was a ten-year-old participant when a riot broke out at the funeral procession for Rabbi Jacob Joseph on July 30, 1902. Several of the small Orthodox synagogues on the Lower East Side had chipped in to bring Joseph from Poland in 1888 to be their first (and as it turned out last) chief rabbi. From the start he ran into opposition from other Orthodox and Hasidic congregations, who elected their own chief rabbis in protest, and from the Reform German Jews in the city, and from the Lower East Side's large contingent of radical and Communist Jewish intellectuals. He struggled largely in vein to bring some order to the graft-ridden kosher butchery trade. Demoralized by all the controversy and reduced to dire poverty in his own tenement flat, he suffered a series of paralyzing strokes and died on July 27 1902 at the age of only fifty-four.

Despite all the acrimony during his life, the entire Orthodox population of the Lower East Side went into mourning. On July 30 much of the neighborhood shut down for the funeral procession that carried his plain pine coffin from his home on Henry Street over to the Grand Street ferry, bound for a cemetery in Brooklyn. A crowd estimated at fifty to one hundred thousand mourners thronged the streets. As the cortege approached the waterfront it passed the giant R. Hoe & Company factory on Grand Street, where printing presses were made. The more than two thousand workers there, many of them Irish, were infamously anti-Semitic. When the horse-drawn hearse went by, accompanied by two hundred black-creped carriages and the immense crowd on foot, workers on the factory's upper floors jeered, shouted obscenities out the windows and hurled whatever they could get their hands on -- nuts, bolts, blocks of wood, buckets of water. The crowd flew into a rage and charged the building. Max was among those who ran over to Delancey Street, where the Manhattan end of the Williamsburg Bridge was under construction, and carried back loose bricks to be thrown through the factory's lower windows. A delegation of Jewish leaders who got into Robert Hoe's office to try to end the situation claimed Hoe chased them out with a pistol. (In the publishing world Hoe is remembered as a collector of rare books and a founder of the Grolier Club.) A riot squad of some two hundred police showed up. Also mostly Irish, the cops enforced calm by wading into the Jews with clubs swinging. Hundreds of Jews were injured and scores went to jail, while only one factory worker was detained. Ironically, in 1929 the factory would be torn down and replaced by the wonderful Amalgamated Dwellings apartment building, cornerstone of the largely Jewish Co-Op Village.

By the time of the riot Cliff was touring the country with the Imperial Burlesque Show and making a princely seventy-five dollars a week -- enough that he could soon move his whole family off the Lower East Side, first to 106th Street near Central Park, later to Jewish Harlem. His father retired, though he continued to press his kids' clothes, including Cliff's tuxedos.

Max expanded his theater-going to Broadway -- legit dramas, George M. Cohan's musicals. He supported the habit by selling score cards and peanuts at the Polo Grounds when the Giants were in town. Despite Cliff's urgings, he dropped out of Townsend Harris Hall -- in effect the prep school for City College, where Yip Harburg, Ira Gershwin and Paul Muni also went -- to take a job as an advance man for a touring burlesque show. He'd go into a town ahead of the show to put up posters and do p.r. At seventeen he was traveling around the country in the company of chorus girls, low comics and cigar-sucking impresarios, getting a type of education he never would have gotten at home.

Cliff's star meanwhile continued to rise. He was never the headliner, but he got near. On big-time vaudeville circuits he filled the toughest spot on the program: he was a "closer," the last act of the show, who came on right behind the headlining star. Closers were also known as chasers, because the audience, having just enjoyed the big star, often started walking out on them. Vaudevillians called it playing to the haircuts. It's said that Cliff's monologues were so funny and timely that audiences stayed and roared -- until one day in 1913, when he took on the daunting burden of closing for the grande dame of divas, Sarah Bernhardt.

Bernhardt had been coming to America since 1880, was approaching seventy, and though some critics had ceased to be kind to her a decade earlier, her fans still adored her. Martin Beck of the Chicago-based Orpheum vaudeville circuit startled all of show biz when he convinced her to stoop from legit theater for the first time. Rumor was he agreed to pay her $500 -- in gold coins -- after each performance. (She'd learned a few things in a lifetime in show business.) Touring his Midwest vaudeville houses in preparation for a three-week stand at the new Palace in Times Square, she slayed audiences with excerpts from her tear-jerking greatest hits -- Tosca, Camille, Racine's Phedre.

Cliff was booked to close for her at the Majestic in Chicago that April. He told Max he wasn't sure he could make a crowd laugh right after La Bernhardt had them all sobbing and weeping, but he'd give it his best shot.

Even for a successful performer vaudeville was a precarious life and an exhausting two-show-a-day grind. Cliff had been suffering migraines. At the April 21 matinee, Bernhardt got the whole house bawling with her Tosca. Cliff, his head pounding, walked out to a cold and distracted reception. After struggling to get a chuckle out of them for five minutes he left the stage to no applause. He hadn't laid such an egg since the early days with Will Fox. Legend has it he moaned to the Majestic's manager backstage, "Any comedian who tries to follow Bernhardt is bound to die." He went back to his hotel room to gear up for the evening performance. Apparently he drew a hot bath and took some of his migraine medicine. When he didn't appear for the evening show, they broke down the door to his room and found him on the floor. A doctor on the scene called it a heart attack. He was thirty-two.

Desolate, Max soldiered on. He formed a partnership with Al Lewis. Another son of Polish Jewish immigrants to the Lower East Side, Al had also done a Dutch act. After some rough sledding at first, their Lewis & Gordon booking and producing agency earned a reputation for developing classy one-act plays to insert into vaudeville programs. One of the early ones was Eugene O'Neill's In the Zone, which had premiered in Greenwich Village.

Max was one of the few people in show business who became friends with the imperious Edward Albee, the playwright's adoptive grandfather, who ran the Keith-Albee circuit and was generally considered one of the meanest sonsabitches in vaudeville. In 1927 Max engineered a late-career comeback for one of everybody's favorite old troupers, Eddie Foy, Sr., who'd been on the boards clowning and hoofing since the days of minstrelsy (Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday had caught his act out West) and raised seven children in the theater. Bob Hope plays him in the 1955 film The Seven Little Foys. Foy even died on stage, of a heart attack, at the Orpheum in Kansas City in 1928.

By then vaudeville itself was dying. Everybody in it struggled to adapt to the big changes motion pictures were making to the entertainment industry. Lewis and Gordon broke up the partnership. Lewis went to Hollywood to work for Cliff's old partner, William Fox. Gordon watched in dismay as the upstart Joseph Kennedy took over Albee's empire, which became RKO. Fox invited Max out to Hollywood too. Max would later dabble in film, unhappily, at the urging of his friends the Marx Brothers, and produce a little television as well, with equally muted results. But for now he went in another direction: to Broadway.

Max and Al had previously put on a few shows there, including one hit. In 1925 they produced a play close to both their hearts: Samson Raphaelson's The Jazz Singer, set on the Lower East Side where they and Raphaelson had grown up. They did it at the small Fulton Theatre on W. 46th Street, formerly the Folies-Bergere (and much later renamed the Helen Hayes Theatre, which it remained until it was torn down with its neighbors in the 1980s to make way for a giant Marriott). George Jessel, who'd been doing vaudeville since he was a kid, starred as Jakie Rabinowitz. The newspaper critics found it too schmaltzy, but it was a big hit with audiences. When Warner Brothers bought the rights to film it they decided it should be a musical -- the stage version was a play with some incidental music -- using the Vitaphone sound-on-disc system. They clashed with Jessel over money -- he demanded more to do sound -- and over the simple fact that he couldn't sing. The studio went with Jolson, who had inspired Raphaelson in the first place, and had already done a popular Vitaphone short, A Plantation Act.

Now it was the 1930s, and the Depression was laying waste to Broadway. Yet Gordon thrived there. His very first production was a hit. Three's a Crowd was a little musical revue with a lot of talent participating: Clifton Webb, Libby Holman (whom Webb nicknamed the Statue of Libby), Fred Allen and Fred MacMurray on stage, with songs for Holman like "Body and Soul" and "Something to Remember You By," and Max's pal Groucho contributing some gag material. It ran from October 1930 into the summer of '31. He followed it directly with more hits -- the revue The Band Wagon, starring Fred and Estelle Astaire, which featured "Dancing in the Dark"; a Jerome Kern musical, The Cat and the Fiddle, with Eddie Foy Jr. in the cast; Noel Coward's racy Design for Living, starring Coward, Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne, who all co-produced it with Max.

In the 1933-'34 season he had four hits running simultaneously, a pretty stunning feat. The next season Gordon achieved what everyone said was impossible, convincing the Rockefellers to back his idea for a lavish operetta about the Strausses, The Great Waltz, to be performed in the large Rockefeller Center Theatre (the companion to Radio City Music Hall, torn down in the 1950s). At three dollars a ticket in the depths of the Depression it filled the 3500-seat hall with families and tourists, ran for more than 250 performances and made tons of money. Max's friend Cole Porter doffed his cap in lines from "Anything Goes," "When Rockefeller still can hoard/ Enough money to let Max Gordon/ Produce his shows,/ Anything goes."

On the street they called Max a miracle worker. But it didn't all come easy. Over twenty years producing on Broadway he'd have his huge successes and his miserable flops. The flops could send him into bleak depression. When things weren't rolling his way he might go to the top of a stairway or a window ledge and threaten suicide. Remembering the peculiar way his brother had died, people took him seriously. More than once he would seek professional psychiatric help.

Through it all his broad interests and tastes showed in the range of comedies, dramas and musicals he put on the stage. They included George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart's flag-waving spectacle The American Way, starring Fredric March; the historical costumer The Farmer Takes a Wife, starring the young Henry Fonda, who'd soon head to Hollywood to get his screen debut in the Fox film adaptation; Othello with Walter Huston (another vaudeville vet) in the lead and Brian Aherne as Iago, a flop; Huston in the much more successful Dodsworth, from the Sinclair Lewis novel, later made into a film; Clare Boothe's satire The Women, another big hit adapted for film; Ethan Frome, with Ruth Gordon, Tom Ewell and Raymond Massey; Kern's musical Roberta, which yielded the standard "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" and helped make Bob Hope a star; Cole Porter and Hart's musical Jubilee, soon forgotten except for "Begin the Beguine," a giant hit for Artie Shaw a few years later; the massive hit My Sister Eileen, which ran from 1940 into 1943 with Shirley Booth in the role Rosalind Russell plays in the movie; and Born Yesterday, the Judy Holliday vehicle she reprised on film. His last production was the hit The Solid Gold Cadillac, with the great Josephine Hull (Aunt Abby in Arsenic and Old Lace), which ran from 1953 into 1955. Holliday stars in the 1956 film adaptation.

Through a long retirement Max couldn't resist kibitzing and threatening to come back and do one more play, but he never did. He died in 1978.

by John Strausbaugh

(photo: Cliff Gordon)