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wild-blue-wanderlust · 22 days ago

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Burn Butcher Burn

(An Analysis of Jaskier’s Breakup Song with Geralt)

With some help from my musician friend, @violetjayb (ily)

I hear you’re alive. How disappointing… / I’ve also survived, no thanks to you

Jaskier has had his life saved by Geralt multiple times throughout the show. His view of Geralt is, and always has been, one of a hero, and this is what he always writes him as. Here is the first indication that Jaskier currently doesn’t see Geralt this way, and is going to make that known.

He’s starting out the song by saying ‘this isn’t the same as the music I usually write for him. He didn’t save me this time.’

The ‘I hear you're alive’ doesn’t actually refer to a specific scene or conversation where he’s informed that Geralt is still alive. Instead, it more speaks to the fact that Jaskier sees Geralt as unkillable, and the fact he still believes this, despite his changed feelings for the man, was interesting to me.

It being ‘disappointing’ is fun. It reminds me of a scene from season one where some dude tells Jaskier that Geralt’s dead and his response is an unbothered ‘eh, he’s fine!’ The idea of Geralt’s death used to be something that Jaskier didn’t take very seriously - because how could Geralt die? But now it disappoints him that he’ll stick around.

There’s also something to be said about how Jaskier may be unable to ‘burn all the memories’ of Geralt like he sings later in the song, and that this is potentially the way in which Geralt is still alive.

Did I not bring you some glee / Mr ‘Oh-Look-At-Me’

While Jaskier and Geralt travelled together, Jaskier would sing and chat and just be in a consistently cheerful mood, which contrasted Geralt’s constant state of quiet moodiness. Here, Jaskier seems to be asking if his presence was ever actually wanted or appreciated, because he was genuinely always trying to put a smile on Geralt’s face.

The ‘Mr ‘Oh-Look-At-Me’’ carries a double meaning. If that line is referencing Geralt, then Jaskier is almost calling him a poser and an attention seeker, which doesn’t fit with how Geralt actually is, but does fit with other descriptions Jaskier has given him, such as ‘[I forgive you for] your sulking and posing, which are unworthy of a man’.

There’s also potential he’s referring to himself. That he’s saying either that’s how he thinks Geralt sees him (poser, attention seeker) or that in his act to bring Geralt ‘some glee’, he was making a fool of himself. Performing rather than being honest. That he was seeking Geralt’s attention. It’s clearly a negative connotation based on the fact he says it so mockingly, and it could speak to Jaskier’s self-esteem being much lower than it appears at first glance.

The meaning you take from that lyric really depends on how you punctuate those lines. Is it ‘Did I not bring you some glee, Mr ‘Oh-Look-At-Me’?’, in which he’s addressing Geralt, or is it ‘Did I not bring you some glee? Mr ‘Oh-Look-At-Me’?’ In which he’s referring to how he tried to bring glee to Geralt

Now I’ll burn all the memories of you…

It’s giving Eliza Hamilton and I love it. Additionally though, and somewhat in the same vein as Eliza, everyone knows that a lot of Jaskier’s music has been written by him to reframe Witchers and create a positive reputation for Geralt in particular, which makes him famous and gets him more coin. While Geralt, as far as I’m aware, never acknowledges Jaskier’s help in literally promoting him, he himself knows what he’s done for Geralt and acknowledges it frequently.

Jaskier has a unique position where he truly can hurt Geralt, not physically, but by once again altering the way he’s viewed, and undoing all that progress they made. Burning the memories equates to burning any positive image of Geralt that their society started to hold. It just makes me think about ‘I’m burning the memories, burning the letters, that might have redeemed you’.

All those lonely miles / That you ride / Now you’ll walk / With no-one by your side

Self-explanatory. Geralt is alone without a travelling companion after Jaskier leaves, and since Jaskier doesn’t yet know that he’s found Ciri, he thinks Geralt is completely alone.

Did you ever even care? / With your swords and your stupid hair? / Now watch me laugh! / As I burn… all the memories.. of you.

When Jaskier first met Geralt, These were the first things he pointed out about him - “white hair, big old loner, two very, very scary looking swords… I know who you are.”

Pointing that out again is like he’s reverting back to that surface-level view of Geralt, as if he’s forgotten everything else he got to know him as. This time, when he says he’s burning the memories, he means it much more personally than in the sense of burning the positive reputation.

The idea of him laughing as he does it suggests that he’s better off without Geralt, or at least trying to present himself that way.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been the most beautiful audience! Remember to toss a coin, if you can! If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the bar.

This bit is spoken and obviously not part of the lyrics but I think it’s worth mentioning that in the scene from the show (as opposed to the song on Spotify) this is where Jaskier actually becomes fully audible. Something about everything he said before this being effectively silenced is interesting to me but I can’t think of what the meaning of that is, character wise.

What for d’you yearn?

I think this lyric is alluding to the famous scene where Jaskier bathed Geralt:

Jaskier: “Come on. You must want something for yourself once all this monster hunting nonsense is over with.”

Geralt: “I want nothing.”

Jaskier: “…Well, who knows! Maybe someone out there will want you.”

Geralt: “I need no-one. And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”

Jaskier: “And yet… here we are.”

It’s the point of no return / After everything we did, we saw / You turned your back on me / What for d’you yearn?

Of course, a reference to the mountain breakup that inspired this whole song, in which Geralt did literally turn his back to him after he ‘basically told (Jaskier) to fuck off’, as he puts it later.

He’s also bringing up their history here, all the things they did and saw together, and how betrayed he feels. It’s clear Jaskier held him in very high regard and has no idea why he isn’t given the same respect, or how Geralt could betray him at all. Jaskier himself has ‘such a capacity for love’, according to Joey Batey, that the idea of Geralt being truly careless and indifferent just feels foreign. He was certain there was something deeper and that Geralt could love, but at this point he’s struggling to believe that.

The ‘Everything we did, we saw’ is an echo of something Jaskier said in Episode 4(?) after he thought Geralt was dead. He said that he wanted to write Geralt another song and tell everyone what they did and saw. This callback makes me think that Jaskier, when writing this song, is thinking of Geralt as being dead to him, as he believed him to be the first time he used this phrasing.

My musician friend informed me that the key of this song is C minor, which she says is perfect as it is usually put to laments. According to google, it's a key for 'declarations of love and at the same time the lament of unhappy love'

Watch that butcher burn!

Geralt hates the ‘Butcher of Blaviken’ title because it implies an uncaring person who kills for the sake of killing, which is not who he is.

Jaskier knows how much Geralt hates the name because he got punched by Geralt the first time he used it.

He’s been the only one trying to help Geralt bury that name and the things it stands for. Deciding to call him a Butcher tells everyone what Jaskier now thinks of Geralt, and makes it increasingly obvious that he no longer cares to change the reputation of that emotionless mutant.

At the end of my days, when I’m through / No word that I’ve written / Will ring quite as true / As ‘burn!’

There’s a certain tragedy in the implication that Jaskier believes he will be spending the rest of his life in the shadow of this time period, the years he spent with Geralt and the aftermath of it, and that nothing he does will ever mean more to him than this.

More importantly, it serves as another reminder of Jaskier’s changed views. He’s written many songs about Geralt, portraying him in a positive light, as a saviour, a protector, a human, and someone that’s good. But he’s taking all that back now. The truth of the matter is, after the mountain breakup, Geralt is nothing but the Butcher of Blaviken to him, and he wants everyone to know it.

Jaskier also mentioned the ‘end of his days’ when he believed Geralt to be dead in episode 4. I find it noteworthy that losing Geralt always seems to make Jaskier think about his own demise. Additionally it drives the point further home that he’s tearing apart Geralt’s reputation, because again, the last time he thought Geralt was dead, he wanted to write songs to make people remember him in a good light. Now, he wants the exact opposite.

Also, Look at the sheet music for this part:

My musician friend pointed out how there’s a lot of ascending and descending notes in this part, which helps to reflect Jaskier’s inner turmoil and his overwhelming emotions.

Burn, Butcher, burn! Burn! Butcher, burn!

At the end of it all, in spite of all his anger, there’s also a sense of desperation. Maybe Jaskier is trying to get Geralt out of his head, forget all that happened, but he can’t. He’s still writing songs about him, at the end of the day.

Maybe he wants to burn the Butcher, as a separate entity to Geralt. He wants to forget the hurt he’s been caused, and wants Geralt to change. Maybe Jaskier wants to see him as heroic again.

He’s angry. But he’s not as over it as he says he is.

Burn! burn! burn! burn. burn. / Burn, burn, / Burn…

As he sings, he gets more overwhelmed, the anger leaves, there just seems to be a bit of a numbness leftover after everything. Jaskier isn’t someone who gets angry often, and he seems to dislike the feeling. It exhausts him. In a way that he doesn’t usually get exhausted after a performance.

Watch me burn… / All the memories… / …Of you.

After the song, he insists that it ‘could be about anyone’ before finally admitting it’s about Geralt. He’s ashamed of the fact he’s still effected by him, and afraid to admit that the song ‘came from the heart. Perhaps a broken one’.

If that’s not enough proof that he had a major crush on Geralt, I don’t know what is.

#jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geraskier #burn butcher burn #twn #the witcher netflix #joey batey #song analysis #jaskier analysis #burn butcher burn analysis #the witcher season 2 #the witcher analysis #a humble bard #spotify

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gwydionmisha · 10 months ago

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Song of the Worm Cook, Eliza

Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there.

Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome.

I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me.

Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

#Song of the Worm #Eliza Cook #Poem #Poetry

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thesquireinvictus · 9 months ago

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THE worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave. Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet-- Oh! turn not away with the shriek of disgust From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust. Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride, 'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride; Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair-- Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there. Cities of splendour, where palace and gate, Where the marble of strength and the purple of state; Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine, Once flourished in glory; oh! are ye not mine? Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound; And the slime of my trailing discovers my home, 'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome. I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread; I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows. The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade, Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade. They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee To learn what the churchyard has given to me. Oh! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain, For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign; I delve at my ease and regale where I may; None dispute with the worm in his will or his way. The high and the bright for my feasting must fall-- Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all: The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave; All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

Song of the Worm, Eliza Cook (1818-1889)

#lit #poems

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pomrania · 8 months ago

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Copying it out for anyone who doesn't feel like opening a link; this is by Eliza Cook (1818-1889) and entitled 'Song of the Worm'.

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

#no fandom #poesy

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lynniceberg · 9 months ago

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Song of the Worm

by Eliza Cook

THE worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain

In the field that is stored with its millions of slain ;

The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong,

With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong.

The tower of ages in fragments is laid,

Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade ;

And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave

Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

Daughters of earth, if I happen to meet

Your bloom-plucking fingers and sod-treading feet--

Oh ! turn not away with the shriek of disgust

From the thing you must mate with in darkness and dust.

Your eyes may be flashing in pleasure and pride,

'Neath the crown of a Queen or the wreath of a bride ;

Your lips may be fresh and your cheeks may be fair--

Let a few years pass over, and I shall be there.

Cities of splendour, where palace and gate,

Where the marble of strength and the purple of state ;

Where the mart and arena, the olive and vine,

Once flourished in glory ; oh ! are ye not mine ?

Go look for famed Carthage, and I shall be found

In the desolate ruin and weed-covered mound ;

And the slime of my trailing discovers my home,

'Mid the pillars of Tyre and the temples of Rome.

I am sacredly sheltered and daintily fed

Where the velvet bedecks, and the white lawn is spread ;

I may feast undisturbed, I may dwell and carouse

On the sweetest of lips and the smoothest of brows.

The voice of the sexton, the chink of the spade,

Sound merrily under the willow's dank shade.

They are carnival notes, and I travel with glee

To learn what the churchyard has given to me.

Oh ! the worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain,

For where monarchs are voiceless I revel and reign ;

I delve at my ease and regale where I may ;

None dispute with the worm in his will or his way.

The high and the bright for my feasting must fall--

Youth, Beauty, and Manhood, I prey on ye all :

The Prince and the peasant, the despot and slave ;

All, all must bow down to the worm and the grave.

Song of the Worm by Eliza Cook

Happy Poetry Month!

#poetry month #poetry #worm #worms #death #life #song of the worm #eliza cook

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roscommon-2-rhodes · 9 months ago

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Song of the Worm

The worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain In the field that is stored with its millions of slain; The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong, With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong. The tower of ages in fragments is laid, Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade; And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave.

-Eliza Cook (1818-1889)

The Poetical Works of Eliza Cook (London: Frederick Warne and Co., [1869]): 181-82.

#pretty words #poetry

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johnhardinsawyer · 2 years ago

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Going Back to the Well

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

3 / 12 / 23 – Third Sunday in Lent

Exodus 17:1-7

John 4:5-42

“Going Back to the Well”

(Will you give me a drink?)

She arrived at the theatre early and found her seat. She was on a row of three chairs, sitting up against the wall on the left side of the balcony. There were two empty seats to her right. And, as it turned out, these two empty seats were our seats. My wife and I were in Boston last Saturday to see the multi-award-winning Broadway hit, Hamilton, which is all about Alexander Hamilton and the founding of the United States of America. We were excited to see the play, but the young woman sitting to our left in our little row of three was very excited. As the play began, she began to sing along with every word coming from the stage. She did have a pretty good voice, all things considered, but it was a little distracting, especially when she began singing, “Angelica. . . Eliza. . . and Peggy. . . the Schuyler sisters. . .”

If you’re unfamiliar with the play, you should know that this particular song has a major applause line that our theatre-going companion was more than happy to sing out:

‘We hold these truths to be self-evident That all men are created equal’ And when I meet Thomas Jefferson – I’m-a compel him to include women in the sequel (work!)[1]

This lyric from a play written in 2015 highlights the irony that, at the founding of our nation – a nation founded on the idea of equality – men and women were not on equal footing. Women in the United States would have to wait until 1920 for the right to vote – a little over 100 years ago. And this only happened after years of struggle. We could talk about other inequalities – in pay and respect – but we would be here all day. Alas, inequality like this has been baked into the culture, going back thousands of years.

We see this kind of inequality firmly in place in today’s reading from the Gospel of John. Not only does today’s story show Jesus interacting with a woman, but she is decidedly unequal in several different ways. When Jesus and his disciples arrive in the Samaritan city of Sychar, they find themselves in not-so-friendly territory.

Just like the modern state of Israel has these zones that are primarily Palestinian, some of these zones and boundaries have been around since Old Testament times. In today’s story, Jesus and his disciples are traveling through the Samaritan zone. In the Bible, Samaritans are almost always referred to in disparaging terms by Jews – kind of like how Protestants and Catholics will sometimes talk about one another. They clearly have common religious roots, but the religious tree branched off generations ago and there’s but a slim chance of it ever growing back together. The main disagreement between Samaritans and Jews – as we heard in today’s reading – was over the proper place to pray. Did the Temple belong on Mount Gerizim (as the Samaritans believed) or Mount Zion (as the Jews believed)? This disagreement, along with the centuries of baggage that went along with it, was such that the author of the Gospel of John is clear: “Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.” (John 4:9)

Not only is the woman at the well a Samaritan – we also find out, over the course of the story, that she has a complicated history when it comes to her relationships. . . at least five husbands and a current boyfriend who is not her husband. This amount of personal detail in the story likely would have set this poor Samaritan woman up for even more unequal treatment by those who look down their noses at details such as these. “Five husbands and a boyfriend? Why can’t she keep a man?” folks might have wondered.

So, here we have a Samaritan, woman, with questionable morals – or, at the very least, a questionable history – who, one might presume, would have been thought, by many, to be part of a lower caste, speaking with Jesus. This woman, it is fairly self-evident, by those who study such things, is considered unequal to Jesus in so many obvious ways. And yet, Jesus treats her the same as anyone else – offering her grace upon grace.

Both of today’s scripture readings take place in a part of the world that is hot and dry – the kind of place where the ground radiates heat in waves. It’s a “dry heat,” but it can feel like an oven. And, if you’re thirsty, it can be so hard.

This is why the Israelites cry out to Moses in today’s first reading, “Have you brought us out here into the wilderness to kill us with thirst?” (Exodus 17:3)[2] “Give us water to drink,” the people say. (17:2). Alas, there is no water to be found and the people are hot and thirsty. In today’s second reading, in the noontime heat, we find Jesus saying almost the exact same thing: “Give me a drink.” (John 4:7). He is hot and tired out by his journey. And when a Samaritan woman comes to draw water, Jesus doesn’t have a bucket or a jar, but he sees that she has one.

“Can I have something to drink?” Jesus asks. “I’m thirsty.” “You’re asking me for something to drink?” the woman says. “Most of the people I know wouldn’t think it proper – for a Samaritan to give a Jew something to drink.” “If you knew who I was,” Jesus says, “and if you knew how generous God is, you would be asking me for something to drink and I would give you living water.”[3]

Just what might this “living water” be? The Samaritan woman wants to know – and so do I. There are several different ways to answer this question, starting with thinking about some of the different images of water in the Bible. When John Calvin writes about this, he says that “we are like a dry and barren soil; there is no sap and no vigor in us, until the Lord water[s] us by [the] Spirit.”[4] Also, in the Book of Hebrews, we read that we are to approach God “with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.” (Hebrews 10:22) Calvin continues by wondering if the living water is “the secret energy by which [God] restores life in us, and maintains and brings [the new life] to perfection.”[5] But then he comes around to the idea that the living water is “the whole grace of our renewal” because Jesus “was sent for the purpose of bringing to us a new life.”[6]

All of this is not immediately clear to the Samaritan woman, but over the course of her conversation with Jesus, things become a little clearer. First, she realizes that Jesus is some kind of prophet – able to see her for who and what she really is. Next, Jesus dismantles years of resentment and disagreement between Jews and Samaritans, by saying that there will come a time when where we worship God won’t matter as much as whether we are worshiping in spirit and truth. And, finally, the Samaritan woman says, “I know that a Messiah is coming,” to which Jesus says, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.” (John 4:25-26)

Anyone who reads the stories of Jesus closely will likely note that that Jesus doesn’t usually come out and admit that he is the Messiah very often. In the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, he is often swearing his disciples to secrecy. But here, in today’s story, he openly shares his true identity with the one person most of us would be surprised to find would be worthy of such knowledge. And the Spirit moves in. . .

The preacher and professor Anna Carter Florence writes,

There are always good reasons for Jesus not to talk with us. . . [but] Jesus breaks rules to talk with her. . . What rules [are] Jesus breaking to talk with us? What social conventions is he disregarding? What lines is he stepping across, in order to speak about what truly matters, and what may save our life? Human beings are, by definition, rooted in social contexts and ordered by those realities. Sometimes we let “the way it is” determine what we can or are willing to see. Jesus has a distinct fondness for overstepping boundaries. What traditions or customs or conventions might Jesus have to cross in order to speak to you . . . ?[7]

We hold these truths to be self-evident that all people are loved by Jesus – so much so that God so loved the world enough to send Jesus, offering salvation instead of condemnation. This is a love, a grace, a salvation, a new life – which God has shown us is worth crossing boundaries for, worth breaking the rules of convention and culture from time to time, worth letting our gratitude and devotion show in how we live, and move, and have our being in and through the Holy Spirit’s life-changing, life-shaping, life-filling-and-spilling-over power. This is a love that is worth singing with abandon for and offering grace in ways that are large and small. Jesus models what this can look like for us – making a simple human connection over something as ordinary as water, or the weather, or “how are you?,” or “tell me about yourself.” And pretty soon, barriers are broken down, grace is shared, we see one another as fellow pilgrims on the journey, children of the most high God – thirsty for grace, but willing to share what we have. God’s grace speaks clearly across barriers of language, race, gender, sexual orientation, political persuasion, and personal prejudice. All someone needs to know is that we are thirsty for something good, and pure, and lasting, and they are, too. . . And the living water – that quenches our thirsty souls – begins to flow, even in the most surprising times and places.

There is this expression that people sometimes use, saying that they are “going back to the well,” implying that they are “returning to the source.” Sometimes, there are those who might be fearful that the well might run dry. But the wellspring of living water – the wellspring of God’s grace – is always flowing, always washing, always blessing, always offering new life. And Jesus is always inviting us back to the well for more and more – as much as we need and want, whenever we need and want it.

You may have noticed that in both of today’s stories – the story of the people of Israel who are thirsty in the wilderness and Jesus who is thirsty in Samaria – that we are never actually told whether or not they end up getting water to drink. I mean, we presume that they are able to drink and have their thirst quenched, but scripture kind of leaves a lot to trust after-the-fact. This is the way that God will often work – offering us life-giving grace that we only see working in hindsight to fulfill our needs. In the stories, it is clear that the people are given what they need. . . just as we will.

At the intermission for Hamilton, last Saturday, I swapped places with my wife so that I could have the privilege to sit next to the singing theatregoer, who came back from the souvenir table with plenty of Hamilton swag – a sweatshirt, a mug, and some other things. “Nice,” I said, looking at the things she had purchased. “You must be excited to be here.” “Oh, yes!” she said. “Very!” Act II began and I could hear her humming in her seat – singing along at all the right moments with abandon until the end of the play. After the standing ovation and the applause for the cast on the stage, she sighed and said, “Well. . . I didn’t cry. But this made my life.” Seeing Hamilton had clearly been a life-changing experience for her – a religious experience. Just in case you’re wondering, no, I did not use this as an opportunity to tell her about the life-changing, life-making living water of Jesus. In the moment, the play was enough for her – just what she needed. When it comes to what God offers, I trust that she’ll get just what she needs when the time is right – just as we all will. Last Saturday, I just smiled at her, hoping that the grace in my smile was self-evident. Sometimes, a glimpse of grace is all the Spirit needs to move in and bless.

How will you and I – we, who have been offered the living water of grace – share that grace with the world? May we do so with great love and hope and humility. May we do so in ways that bend and break convention. And may we do so, trusting the Spirit to move in and bless. In the end, may God’s blessing be self-evident.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

--------

[1] Lin-Manuel Miranda, “The Schuyler Sisters (Mind at Work)” Atlantic Records, 2015. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Schuyler_Sisters.

[2] Paraphrased, JHS.

[3] John 4:7-10 – Paraphrased, JHS.

[4] John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries – Vol. XVII, Harmony of Matthew, Mark, Luke; John 1-11 (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2009) 149.

[5] Calvin, 149.

[6] Calvin, 150.

[7] David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, ed. Feasting on the Word – Year A, Volume 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010) 95. “Homiletical Perspective,” Anna Carter Florence.

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nordleuchten · 3 years ago

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Did lafayette ...

1. Did La Fayette sign the Declaration of Independence?

No, he did not. La Fayette arrived in America on June 13, 1777 while the declaration was mostly signed in July and August of 1776. Even if he had been in America at that point in time, he had no business in signing the document. He was not a member of the Continental Congress and could have never been one for he was not a native and/or inhabitant of any of the thirteen original states/colonies.

2. Did La Fayette die?

That might sound shocking … but yes, he did. We all die one day. La Fayette died on March 20, 1834 at the age of 76 in Paris surrounded by his family. Quite an achievement given his turbulent life.

3. Did La Fayette die in the French Revolution?

No, he did not - but he came rather close to it several times.

4. Did La Fayette die in True Blood?

I actually had to google what True Blood even is - it is an American vampire-drama-series. And, spoilers ahead, Lafayette does not die in the True Blood series but he does so in the books.

5. Did La Fayette dress as a women?

No, La Fayette never disguised himself as a (pregnant) women in order to travel to America. I repeat, La Fayette did not disguise himself in that way. That did not happen. I do not know exactly who came up with this story but made it up.

6. Did La Fayette die in Hamilton?

No, La Fayette does not die in the Musical Hamilton. However, if we assume that the Musical ends with Eliza Hamilton’s death, given that in the last song “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” she seems to look in the future, detailing the rest of her life, then yes, La Fayette dies in Hamilton for Eliza died in 1854 and La Fayette in 1834.

7. Did La Fayette speak English?

Yes, La Fayette did speak English really well. Here is what one newspaper, “The Saturday Evening Post”, reported during his last visit to the United States.

He speaks the English language with fluency, and when animated, with eloquence; his pronunciation alone betraying that he is by birth a Frenchman.

The taught himself how to speak English during his sea voyage to America but also received help from his friends and other members in the continental army once he actually arrived in the United States.

8. Did La Fayette have siblings?

Yes, La Fayette had a sister Marie-Louise-Jacqueline who was born on April 5, 1760 and died three months later. La Fayette also had a cousin, Louise Jeanne. The two of them were very close and he felt for her like for a sister.

9. Did La Fayette give Washington a necklace?

Washington and La Fayette exchanged a great number of presents and some of these presents were truly interesting … but I am not aware of a necklace.

10. Did La Fayette survive the French Revolution?

Yes, La Fayette did survive the French Revolution - how he did that however is a different story.

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thebeautiesofthepast · 4 years ago

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Lola Montez, Countess of Landsfeld

Painting by Joseph Karl Stieler, neoclassical portrait, 1847

Eliza Rosanna Gilbert, Countess of Landsfeld, better known as Lola Montez, (17.02.1821-17.01.1861) was the daughter of Elizabeth Oliver and Ensign Edward Gilbert. She was born in Grange, County Sligo in Ireland and grew up in India. After her mother remarried (Eliza's father died of cholera), she was sent back to Britain to go to school. She was known to be a mischief-maker.

She eloped and married a man named Lt. Thomas James at age 16. They separated five years later. Her career as a dancer started in 1844 in Paris when she was 23 years old. There she had an affair with Franz Liszt and after being accepted into the city's Bohemian cirle, she had caused some stirs, which resulted in a duel and a man's death.

In 1846 she travelled to Munich, and was quickly accepted as Ludwig I. of Bavaria's mistress. She was extremely unpopular with the Bavarian people because of her control over the kKing, her arrogance and her Temper. It also didn't help that Ludwig made her a Bavarian citizen (giving her the Title of Countess of Landsfeld). Due to all of this, King Ludwig I. abdicated in favor of his son and Lola fled Bavaria.

She spent her next few years remarrying another man, which resulted in her having to flee Britain due to a bigamy charge. She then travelled around Spain and France, finally deciding to make a new start in the United States of America. Her career was successful there and so was a tour of Australia.

When she returned to America, she spent her last days rescuing 'fallen' women. She dies in 1861 due to tertiary syphillis. She is still known to have been a cigarette-smoking, whip-wielding wild woman. Volbeat (a rock band) have recorded a song about her.

#lola montez #volbeat #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia #women in art #women in history #neoclassical art #neoclassicism #syphillis #19th century #joseph karl stieler #joseph stieler #portrait #painting

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the-walrus-eliza · 7 months ago

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Also Arizona is called ‘our god’ in the same song

so in ‘Arizona march song’, Arizona’s state song, Arizona is called ‘our goddess and our queen’.

I wanna see someone draw that. That’s a great art idea.

#wttt #welcome to the table #wttt arizona #Forgot that one too #Eliza’s state song travels

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randomrichards · 4 years ago

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BEST MOVIES OF 2020

10) BORAT SUBSEQUENT MOVIEFILM

It’s a miracle Sacha Baron Cohen could pull off his guerilla comedy style considering how iconic his character is (especially during the COVID-19 Pandemic). Just as surprising is how uncompromising it is with its political commentary and how it never backs away from its deliciously inappropriate humour.

As everyone’s favourite anti-Semitic, misogynist dim bulb reporter (Sacha Baron Cohen) becomes a pariah in his home country, Borat tries to sell his daughter Tutar (Maria Bakalova) to Michael Pence (then later Rudy Giuliani). The result is an endless array of side splitting, cringy moments from convincing a baker to write an anti-Semitic slogan on a cake to Borat attempted disguises to avoid detection.

Not since Buster Keaton has a comic actor pulled such dangerous stunts for a laugh. Cohen puts himself in such risky situations for the sake of his comedy when he hangs around with Qanon nutjobs or barges into a Republican convention dressed as “McDonald Trump.” [1] Well, it’s not just for laughs. As with his earlier works, Cohen uses his guerilla comedy style to expose the ugly side of humanity and America’s complicity in said ugly behavior. A notable theme is the consequences of misinformation. Borat is an instigator and willful idiot for his home country’s propaganda, which makes him an easy target for conspiracy theories. It all comes to a hilarious head when his daughter becomes a rightwing pundit and breaks his heart with holocaust denial.

Maria Bakalova is the film’s breakout star. An unknown actress from Bulgaria, Bakalova matches him every step of the way as the gullible, degraded young woman. She shines in her own hilarious moments when she’s ballroom dancing with a bloody dress or cheering about the joys of masturbating in front of a Republican Meeting. She also gives the movie a heart as Borat bonds with his daughter and forces him to reevaluate his beliefs.

It’s impossible for the film to reach the same level of impact as the first Borat considering what a surprise phenomenon the original was. But it’s still surprising the sequel was as good as it was without sacrificing its inappropriate humour.

9) HIS HOUSE

Writer/Director Remi Weekes brings another great addition to the metaphorror genre with His House; a creepy horror flick about a Sudanese refugee couple who find their lives in Britain threatened by the literal demons of their past.

Dilapidated rooms with peeling wallpaper, decaying floors, and malfunctioning lights are a perfect atmosphere for horror, Weekes and his cinematographer Jo Willems takes full advantage of this environment to unsettle the audience. Bol Majur (Sope Dirisu) and his wife Rial Majur (Wunmi Mosaku) find themselves tormented by voices in the walls, and mysterious figures peaking through the crawl spaces. It’s clear these supernatural figures are the manifestations of their trauma.

Weeks contrast the supernatural horror with the real horror they face, which takes the form of an uncaring bureaucracy that sticks them in a dilapidated home in a crumbling neighbourhood with some hostile, indifferent neighbours. It shows how finding a doctor’s office in an unfamiliar land can be as scary as facing ghosts.

You care a lot about these two thanks to Dirisu and Mosaku, who bring a lot of quiet humanity and heart to their characters. You pray for them as they fight for their right to live with dignity after what they’ve been put through.

8) WOLFWALKERS

British girl/wannabee warrior) Robyn (voiced by Honor Kneafsey) joins her father (Sean Bean) on a trip to a remote Irish village where she encounters Mebh (Evan Whittaker), a wild red-haired girl with the ability to control a pack of wolves. With her father tasked with killing Mebh’s pack, Robyn must find Mebh’s mother and protect the pack from the tyrannical religious fanatic Lord Protector (Simon McBurney) in Tomm Moore’s conclusion to his Irish Folklore trilogy.

The animation is just as gorgeous as Moore’s earlier films The Secret of Kells and The Song of the Sea with his trademark storybook-like animation style. A noticeable difference between the earlier is how deliberately rough the animation looks. There are moments you can see lines and circles that are usually erased when drawing characters. It fits with the wild energy of the characters.

There’re the clear environmental themes of humans encroaching on animal lives and the need to respect nature. Lord Protector believes he needs to dominate the wilderness and the wolves. The villagers in contrast have more respect for the environment but can’t do much under Protector’s rule. So, the wolves are forced to find a new home.

Another theme of this film is the importance of questioning authority and not blindly conforming to social norms. Robyn’s father expects her to train to be a chambermaid while he’s blindly follows Lord Protector’s orders. They keep saying it’s “for the greater good,” but that “greater good” involves the destruction of a wilderness and a denial of one’s true self. It just leaves everyone miserable. And all for a religious fanatic.

It’s a shame Moore’s films don’t get more attention because they have that rare sense of wonder.

7) NEVER RARELY SOMETIMES ALWAYS & UNPREGNANT (tie)

I’m putting these two films together on the list because they have the same premise of two teen girls travelling across state lines so one of them can get an abortion. What sets them apart is how different they are in styles.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is a grounded drama about Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) a teenage girl from Pennsylvania who secretly travels with her cousin Skylar (Talia Ryder) to New York to get an abortion without their parents knowing. Writer/director Eliza Hittman avoids melodrama in favour of grounded realism. Flanigan and Ryder keep their performances at a lowkey level to reinforce the realism. Hittman also avoids political moralizing in favour of just presenting a slice of life showcase as the cousins travel to New York, try to find the appropriate procedure for her circumstance, then tries to find the money to get back home. In a way, it makes the little moments more meaningful when Autumn is forced to watch anti-abortion propaganda or when she and Skylar plays at an arcade.

While the former goes for grounded drama, Haley Lu Richardson’s Unpregnant bears a closer resemblance to comedic road movies like National Lampoon’s Vacation and Planes, Trains & Automobiles. This time, popular teen Veronica (Haley Lu Richardson) enlists the help (and the car) of social outcast/former friend Bailey (Barbie Ferreira) to drive from Missouri to Albuquerque to get the procedure without her parents knowing. The result is a chaotic road trip with the two crashing a few cars and meeting a few colourful characters along the way. This film has quite a set of cameos including Breckin Meyer, Betty Who and Giancarlo Esposito. This film has the John Hughes blend of broad humour and recognizable heart. This film gets its point across by showcasing the absurdity of how teen girls are treated. One notable example is Veronica’s boyfriend; a stage 5 clinger who lives under the “nice guy” mindset.

Both films celebrate teen girls helping each other out.

6) THE VAST OF NIGHT

Switchboard operator (Sierra McCormick) and DJ Everett Sloan (Jake Horowitz) search for the source of a mysterious sound in The Vast of Night; a gripping and visual dazzling sci fi flick that captures the feel of the Twilight Zone.

Director Andrew Patterson and co-writer Craig W. Sanger wrote a tightly knit story the follows our heroes over the course of a night as they play detective in a 1950s New Mexico town. Never does a second feel wasted. Plus, it’s fun to see stereotypical 1950s nerds being the heroes in a story like this.

What truly makes this film stand out is its visual styles. From the Twilight Zone-esque opens plays on an old tv, cinematographer M.I. Littin-Menz has you under his spell. His camerawork is always gorgeous in both the way he is zooming into a 1950s high school basketball game and shining omniscient light from the night sky. There are also some unusual moments when the film will suddenly play on 1950s tv. This may either further the intrigue or take some viewers out of the movie.

The result is a unique experience for sci-fi fans.

5) KAJILLIONNAIRE

Emotionally distant young woman Old Dolio (Evan Rachel Wood) and her small-time con artist parents (Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) find their lives turned upside down when a perky stranger named Melanie (Gina Rodriguez) joins in their schemes.

Some audiences may be put off by July’s stylized approach to filmmaking, especially Wood’s unusual deep voice. But for those into lighthearted, quirky comedies will be enchanted by the little visual oddities of the family stooping (or in Old Dolio’s case, leaning back) to avoid their landlord or the pink suds always flowing down their apartment walls.

Kajillionnaire fits into July’s celebration of the timid and the outsiders. But July surprises us with a dark side to the outsider. The parents reject the unfulfilling, debt filled conventional life, but they aren’t particularly good at their cons and struggle to make ends meet. It has also made their daughter emotionally distant and with severe trust issues. It takes Melanie to give Old Dolio the human connection she never had.

I can’t say much beyond that because it takes many unexpected twists and turns. What I can say is this colourful dramedy offers an assurance of human connection.

4) SMALL AXE

Ok, I may be cheating on this one since it’s five films (two of them just barely over an hour), but director Steve McQueen’s anthology complement each other perfectly with their unflinching examinations of systemic racism inflicted on lives of West Indie Brits during 1960s and the 1980s. The films are also connected by their celebration of people who celebrate life despite overwhelming odds stacked against them.

MANGROVE centers on the title Caribbean restaurant in Notting Hill. Owner Frank Crichlow (Shaun Parkes) just wants to serve customers and be left alone, but his business is a constant target of harassment by racist cops. It all comes to a head with a 1970 protest, which leads to Frank and 8 others falsely accused of inciting a riot.

The trial demonstrates how Police can brutalize protesters, then turn around and accuse the protesters of inciting violence. It also shows how the justice system is complicity by blindly taking the word of the police over civilians. Not helping is a prosecuting attorney who peddles in racist dog whistles, a defense attorney naïve about the justice system’s treatment of black people and an indifferent judge. But the defendants stand strong as they use the trial as a platform to expose racial profiling while poking holes in cop’s testimony.

The two standouts in the film are Parkes and Letitia Wright as British Black Panther Co-Founder Altheia Jones. Parkes brings a lot of sympathy as a desperate man who just wants to live his life but grows to become an activist due to circumstances outside of his control. In contrast, Wright is a powerhouse of righteous anger as she fights for dignity.

LOVERS ROCK takes us through a night at a house party, where two strangers (Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn and Micheal Ward) fall in love. There’s isn’t much plot in this one, its mostly just people dancing and playing music. But as the camera lingers on the DJ playing records and the guests dancing and enjoying each other’s company, this film enchants you with its celebration of music, dancing, and the joy of company. It feels like a much-needed break from the uncomfortable racism we see in the other movies.

RED, WHITE, AND BLUE Is probably the most heartbreaking. John Boyega portrays Leroy Logan, a young man who enrolls in the Metropolitan Police in hopes of reforming it from the inside. He underestimates the racism he’ll face during training or how the system enables the racism. What makes it worst is how his own community would turn against him, especially his father (Steve Toussaint).

Boyega gives a powerful performance as a determined and smart guy who fails to understand how in over his head he is. You feel his fury when Leroy berates his fellow officers for putting his life in danger by not answering his call for backup. Toussaint is just as powerful as a man who feels betrayed when his son joins the very people who have brutalized him for years.

ALEX WHEATIE tells the true-life story of a young man (Sheyi Cole) who would go on to become an award-winning writer after being jailed during the Brixton Uprising of 1981. We follow him from his childhood growing up in uncaring white institutional care homes to finding a sense of community in Brixton, where he develops a passion for music. Through his attempts to pursue a DJing career and his run ins with the law that he confronts his past and begins a journey to healing.

We conclude with Education, a coming-of-age story of Kingsley (Kenyah Sandy), a 12-year-old boy who was singled out as “disruptive” and sent to special classes for the “subnormal”. This film looks at an unofficial segregated system that dismissed black kids and discarded them in classes for people with mental disability. It’s clear Kingsley is a smart kid with interest in rockets and space, but he shows signs of dyslexia. But neither his headmaster nor are the special classes helpful, especially when the teacher cares more about play his guitar and teaching the kids anything useful. His parents are even less helpful when they dismiss his concerns (when they’re not working two jobs.) It leads to a sad moment when Kingsley hides inside a bus to avoid seeing his friends.

This film also shows the power of black women. You see it through Kingsley’s sister Stephanie (Tamara Lawrence) whose empathy makes her realize somethings up. You see through Lydia Thomas (Josette Simon) activism as she investigates these school conditions. You especially see it through Kingsley’s mom (Sharlene Whyte), not just from working to jobs to provide for her family but her ability to grow and learn. She goes through a journey as Lydia teaches her about the systemic racism in the education system, forcing her to realize how she’s dismissed her son’s concerns. Near the end, we see how children like Kingsley can be helped by those willing to understand his problem.

3) FIRST COW

Timid forager Cookie (John Magaro) feels out of place among the hunters and fur traders in the Oregon Territory. Then along comes King-Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant with big dreams. Together, they swipe milk from the only cow in the area to cook and sell pastries to the locals in the area. As their little business grows, so does the bond between these outsiders. But their success comes under threat when they attract the attention of a wealthy landowner (Toby Jones) who owns the cow.

A premise like this does not sound like the type of film that attracts major audience attention, especially with Co-writer/Director Kelly Reichart’s minimalist style. But when it comes to Reichart, less is more. Reichart takes her time to take in the muted colours and natural beauty of Christopher Blauvelt’s cinematography and allow the relationships to develop naturally. It’s helped by the low-key yet engaging performances. Lee showcased the enthusiastic determination of a born entrepreneur. But it’s Magaro who shines brightest with the most nuanced performance of the year, revealing Cookie’s humanity through the subtlest gestures.

Reichart’s subtle, patient storytelling isn’t for everyone, but through her gentlest touch she enchants the audience with a haunting tale of unlikely friendships and the achievements of outsiders.

2) UNCUT GEMS

I know this is a film was released in 2019, but It didn’t come to our theatre until 2020 and It’s too damn good not to talk about.

This film is a cinematic panic attack. Never once do the Safdie brothers give you a moment to relax as fast-talking Jeweler Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) dodges pissed off debt collectors while plotting for the biggest bet he can get. The result is an experience that keeps you on edge from opening credits to end credits. In lesser hands this would be an unpleasant experience, but the Safdie brothers uses this to create a compelling, intense portrayal of a man who gets off on standing on the edge of a cliff.

One reason it works is because beauty and ugliness make strange bedfellows in their movies. Nowhere is this more perfectly summed up than in the opening scenes where cinematographer Darius Khondji travels through an inside of a gem. The colours and lights make you feel like you’ve ascended to a magical world, but this scene happens in between scenes of African Miners being exploited and the inside of Howard’s colon. Just as beautiful is Daniel Lopatin’s new wave musical score. On its own, the music lulls you into a beautiful sense of peace. But this music often plays over uncomfortable scenes of characters screaming over each other. Somehow these two elevate the cinematic experience.

But the true strength of the film is Howard himself, which is astounding considering how unlikeable the character is. Throughout the film, he keeps digging himself into a deeper hole as he gambles even more recklessly, which makes it worst when he starts putting other’s people lives at risk. But he’s too complicated to hate. He shares a close bond with his kids and his coworkers. The film makes it clear he’s excellent at predicting Basketball games with near perfect accuracy, which gives you hope he will win. But then again, you don’t end up with over a hundred thousand dollars in debt without making terrible life decisions. He would be impossible to watch without Adam Sandler’s performance. He blends a smooth-talking charm and panic desperation to his character every time he tries to fast talk his way out of his circumstance. You can see why people like having him around.

When the credits roll, you’re relieved it’s over and were glad to experience the thrill.

1) THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO SEVEN

The real-life trial of seven protesters and Black Panther co-founder Bobby Seale feels more like an SNL skit than a courtroom drama. From the Merry Prankster duo Abby Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong)’s tweaking the nose at the buffoon judge Hoffman (Frank Langella) to the Judge bounding and gagging Seale, this trial was so contrived it can only come from real life. And writer/director Aaron Sorkin exposes the absurdity of this story in The Trial of the Chicago Seven.

It’s funny how a film about a trial from the late 60s can capture the mood of 2020. But with brutal images of Police attacking protesters and Judge Hoffman’s horrific treatment of Seale, this film feels like it came at the perfect time.[2] The trial itself showcases how the Justice system works to silence discourse and smears protestors. Sorkin further emphasizes how the system attacks anyone by showcasing the contrasting beliefs of the protestors from the radical anarchism of Hoffman and quiet dignity of Seale to the moderate ideals of student protestor Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and the unapologetic pacifism of suburban dad David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch).

Sorkin does all this while keeping the film gripping and entertaining from start to finish. He brings his sharp wit to his dialogue whether it’s Hoffman’s political speeches or the Marx-brother’s esque exchanges between the Judge and the increasingly frustrated defense attorney William Kunstler. Matching his writing are the endless great performances from the actors including Joseph Gordon-Levitt as reluctant prosecuting attorney Richard Schultz and Strong bringing out his inner Tommy Chong. But it’s Cohen who steals the whole film bringing out the uncompromising radicalism of Hoffman, who seems to have a better understanding of the situation than most of the protestors.

The result is a film that perfectly captures the political feel of 2020.

[1] At one point, he was almost attacked by protesters.

[2] Which is ironic considering it took Sorkin over a decade to get the film made.

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timeagainreviews · 4 years ago

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My Series 10 Rewatch: Knock Knock

Hello, my fantastic friends! I am sorry I have been so quiet. I got coronavirus in February and it really wiped out my energy. I am finally starting to bounce back and feel like leaving the house once more. This beautiful Scottish spring we’re having has definitely helped. I also lost my grandpa this week, so I've been all over the place, emotionally. Obviously, such a big pause in the middle of a series 10 rewatch is disruptive, so I would rather just dive back in if it's all the same. When last we were gathered, I was talking about "Thin Ice." Since then, the ice has thawed and I am now up to series 10 episode four- "Knock Knock," by one-time Doctor Who writer Mike Bartlett.

An aspect of Doctor Who which I love about Steven Moffat’s era is that the Doctor and his companions didn’t spend every waking moment of their lives together. Unlike companions of the past, who basically left behind their family lives to galavant across time and space, the companions of the Moffat era had home lives. Not only did this make for some humorous moments, such as the Doctor landing his TARDIS in Clara’s bedroom on date night, it also set up the characters for something of an actual life. "Knock Knock," uses this separation of worlds to establish one of its central themes- can you have a normal life with the Doctor?

Being a poor student in London, Bill is forced to look for a flat with a group of people she only sort of knows. This is your typical group of students, eclectic and young. The biggest commonality they have is they can’t afford a place on their own. One of the ways in which this makes the episode suffer is that none of them has much chemistry together. However, it does enable Bartlett to explore deeper concepts, such as the fear of meeting new people. Our characters are forced to deal with a deadly situation with people who are basically strangers.

The other commonality they have is Bill’s mate, Shireen. I got momentarily excited the first time I heard her name, but only because I thought it was going to be Rose’s best mate Shareen. Also, it would mean that Rose and Shareen had like a 10 year age difference, which would be weird. Shireen is a bubbly sort that seems gung-ho about everyone getting on. This doesn’t stop 90% of their interactions from being a total cringefest. Not one of these characters is particularly likeable. Pavel, the musician of the group, and the one character with maybe a bit of culture becomes a wall pretty early on, so it’s a bland time from there on out. But that’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves.

After a montage of disappointing flats ("Oh my god, the toilet is is what room?") the gang stands defeated. But like a beacon of light, comes a glimmer of hope in the form of John, a man who clearly prowls the streets for groups of youths. The gang is willing to overlook the obvious stranger danger about John because he has something they need- a giant house at a reasonable price. It’s another one of those deeper concepts being explored here that I think Doctor Who does so well. The show operates well when it preys upon basic fears. In this case, it’s the fear of the creepy landlord. The fear that your home life may be dictated by a creepy man who carries a tuning fork and forbids you to enter certain parts of the house like it’s Beauty and the Beast.

Arriving as if to say "No, Bill, you can’t have a normal life," is the Doctor. After using his TARDIS to move her belongings, Bill is quick to send him off. She even foregoes the traditional six-pack of beer and pizza, the universal payment for friends helping one move house. Of course, the moment the Doctor enters the derelict abode, his Time Lord senses are pinging. The Doctor isn't just an embarrassing "grandfather," type, but also a threat to any semblance of a normal life Bill can hope to have. As I said, this is familiar territory in the Moffat era. A funny side effect of the Doctor's attempts at allowing his companions to live normal lives is it only adds to the sharp contrast between both existences. Perhaps this is immersion therapy on the Doctor's behalf. Letting his friend remember what the world is actually like so as to not disassociate her from her own time and place. Or perhaps it is the Doctor softening the blow of eventually losing his friend.

The Doctor leaves long enough for two things to happen. Firstly, Pavel is listening to some music and suddenly is eaten by the house. Nobody seems to notice. Secondly, the new housemates have a bit of a games night for their first night at 11 Cardinal Road. There's no cellphone reception and the house is nowhere near up to code. I applaud them for trying to build up these characters, but it never really gels. Their merriment is cut short after hearing a noise in the kitchen. Scooby-Doo style, Bill leads them to the pantry where she finds the Doctor never actually left. They decide to head to bed, but the Doctor decides he's going to stay up with Felicity and Harry and listen to music. He also reminds Bill to maybe check on Pavel who has not been seen all day.

Now back in the sitting room, the gang is surprised to find John present. He addresses their problems with the amenities and waxes strange about having a daughter to look after. The Doctor asks John who the Prime Minister is, but he is unable to answer. Before they can ask more questions, John disappears down the hallway, but not before sounding his tuning fork against the wood. On her way to bed, Bill has the most cringe conversation with her new housemate, Paul. Paul fancies Bill. Bill fancies girls. I get that they may have wanted a scene where Bill flat out says to the audience that she's gay, but Paul comes off as super creepy. I wouldn't have an issue with this, but I feel like we're meant to find Paul endearing. It's hard for me to place what exactly they were going for in this scene. Paul, mate, you just met her. You just moved in together. Maybe let the paint dry first.

Luckily, like a shot from the dark, the plot saves us from having to stand in the hallway of awkwardness. Paul, having gone to his room, screams. Thinking he's having a laugh, Bill and Shireen go knocking on his door, only to find the return knock sounding across the hallway wall. The house begins to creak and shudder while doors slam shut. It's like something from a haunted house movie. In many ways, it follows a familiar trope from Doctor Who. The house haunted by aliens. We've seen it in "Ghost Light," "Hide," or even Edward Grove from "The Chimes of Midnight." Though I would argue that here, there is less grist for the mill. "Knock Knock," is a more stripped back, simple story. And in that way, I find it begins to lose me as the mystery unravels.

As the housemates run through the house, trying to escape whatever is happening, they find Pavel in a state of flux. Something about the music on his record player skipping has kept him from being completely absorbed by the house. I will say, this is a great bit of body horror on the makeup department's behalf. Everything about Pavel looks like a guy getting eaten by a wall. As it turns out, the tuning fork and the music have more to do with what's going on as the Doctor discovers the house infested with alien lice known as "Dryads." Using his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor is momentarily able to draw the bugs out from the grain of the wood. The Dryad is not your common woodlouse, as it appears to move through wood like water. Even in my second viewing, I found myself wondering if this is kind of cool or kind of dumb. I vacillate between the two.

In many ways, this is both Doctor Who's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The surreal nature of a time-travelling police box affords us things like sentient planets, talking chair frogs, and killer mannequins. On the other hand, it gives us farting aliens, gamma radiation in the form of lightning, and the Doctor screaming until a window smashes. I remember reading an Eighth Doctor book where horse people read books on their planet by licking them and tasting the story. Sometimes, Doctor Who is bloody brilliant, and other times, it's bloody embarrassing. But that's partly why I love it. This kind of freedom gives it freshness. One week we get a priest buzzing like a wasp as he talks, the next we get River Song and the Vashta Nerada.

Now, I'm not saying "Knock Knock," is bad, but it is a little dumb. I've already complained about the dopey kids nobody cares about, and the silly aliens that aren't that scary, but the end of this episode is where it really kind of evens itself out. As I said, I vacillate between this being a good and a bad story. We learn that the reason John doesn't want anyone up inside the tower of the house has nothing to do with safety, and everything to do with a dark secret. After discovering the unclaimed belongings of previous occupants over the span of decades, the housemates learn that they are just the latest in a long line of people being fed to the house.

I found the motivation of the Dryads a little hard to understand. It seems weird to me that a woodlouse would want to eat people, but here we are. As it turns out, John has found a way to keep his "daughter," Eliza, alive using the Dryads. After noticing they respond to sonic vibrations, John has been using the tuning fork the make them do his bidding. It's a simple arrangement- he feeds students to the Dryads, the Dryads keep Eliza alive as a wooden woman, hidden away in the tower like some forgotten ghost. Once again, the makeup department has done its job. You genuinely believe Eliza is a woman made from wood. I especially like how they used papery twine for her hair.

They do a good job giving reasons why the housemates can't call for help. No wifi, no reception. But it is hard to imagine that over the course of decades, nobody came looking at this giant house for clues of their missing loved ones. Maybe they did and the house ate them as well. All I know is that it's mighty convenient that not one prospective tenant said to their mum or dad "Hey, I'm moving into a giant house at 11 Cardinal Road." Hell, even the Doctor helped move Bill in. What was John's big plan for when the Doctor came around looking for his "granddaughter?"

By this point, several of the housemates have been eaten by the house. Honestly, I could care less about which ones. I think Paul got his, and of course poor wooden Pavel. Or would that be wooden panel? I can't stress how little I care about these characters. Am I cold? I don't think so. We never see them on the show again. They don't matter in the slightest. With the Dryads closing in, the Doctor and Bill have to think quick. Which is when they realise that the timelines don't match up. If John were Eliza's actual father, he would be long dead. Seeing as he is not also made of wood, they deduce that he is in fact not Eliza's father, but her son. Unable to say goodbye to his ailing mother, John has been preserving her. Eliza has been through so much trauma that she has completely forgotten this fact. It's all rather depressing if I'm honest.

Depressing is okay though. What's Doctor Who without the occasion trudge through misery? Of course, it's not all doom and gloom, as Eliza restores all of the young people, once again leaving me to question why they were eaten in the first place. Were they transmuted into energy and simply recombined? It's the best explanation we're going to get, which is fine. David Suchet gives a powerful performance as he begs his mother not to end their lives. His performance is, by far, one of the strongest elements of this episode. Eliza and John are both overtaken by the Dryads, who are off presumably forever. I suppose the threat of Dryads is no longer looming now that their puppet master is no longer pulling their strings.

All in all, I find myself without much to say about this episode. It's not bad, but it's not a banger either. Even writing this review has been a bit of a slog. I find myself hard-pressed to really have any strong feelings one way or the other, and sometimes, that's just how it is. I will say it is the brownest episode of Doctor Who I’ve seen since the ‘70s. The BBC really knew how to dull down colour back then. Sigh... The best I can say about "Knock Knock," is that it's fine, really. There's nothing really wrong with it other than being kind of dull. I think if they'd have tried harder to make the characters more relatable it could have helped. Not every villain needs to be the new Daleks or Weeping Angels. Unlike some of the other episodes in my series ten rewatch, my opinion on this episode has changed very little. I would be as equally surprised to hear someone say this episode was terrible as I would be to hear it's their favourite. This is the kind of Doctor Who you can have on in the background.

Much like we followed the lacklustre "The Unicorn and the Wasp," with the transcendent "Silence in the Library," I am very excited for the next episode in my rewatch- "Oxygen." Another anti-capitalist romp in the vein of "Smile," is just what I need right now. Now that I am back and feeling up to writing again, you should expect to see a bit more output. I wanted to cover the BBC's Youtube Dalek series, of which I have not watched a single frame. I've been putting it off because I wanted to talk about it on here. I have a few non-review articles in mind, but I don't like to promise too much. What I am saying is that you can expect more, soon! Take care!

#doctor who #series 10 #knock knock #David Suchet #bill potts #Pearl Mackie #Twelfth Doctor #Peter Capaldi #dryads #wood #bbc #tardis #rewatch #Time and Time Again

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goonlalagoon · 4 years ago

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To rest a weary soul || Leagues and Legends

Read on Ao3

When the battles are done, Rivertown claimed and the Bureau licking their wounds, Rupert wades through the aftermath with a clipboard and pen for weeks. He has lists of the injured and dead to help process, damages to structures to inventory, agreements for aid to file. Schedules to adjust, because while they’ve won, nobody trusts the Bureau an inch so they’re still running a loose sentry detail - they want there to always be a few people on hand for emergencies, too, because more than one building that was only just standing as the dust started to settle has collapsed since. Sez has a never ending stream of informants scuttling by, and Rupert transcribes for her to pass on messages and warnings and requests.

They won, but Rupert’s a historian at heart, still, a bureaucrat as much as he’s a hero (and he’s very good at both) - he knows that the aftermath of this will be a lifetime, and then some.

He files his paperwork in Sally-Anne’s converted storeroom, and pads back up the stairs to the room they’ve given him - it’s the room that once was Sally’s brother’s, but the folded blanket on the end of the bed is one his mother brought him back years ago from one of her trips. He’d retrieved it from his room at the Academy, while he was still processing that the technically disallowed single room was still so clearly his. He’d expected to have to dig through boxes in his Uncle’s rooms to find it, but it had been laid neatly over the end of the bed just as he’d left it when they set out for the mountains.

The room at Sally-Anne’s isn’t his, not really, and he doesn’t think it ever will be - but it had seen him through weeks of recovery, a rebellion, and it will see him through the first long weeks of the aftermath. His mother had set up a camp-bed in the corner, and when neither of them can sleep they tell stories back and forth about the constellations they can see out of the little window, or make shadow pictures on the wall the way they had on summer expeditions when he was a child. Some mornings, before he wakes fully, he expects to open his eyes to the patched canvas of his mother’s faithful tent and the feel of damp ground under the groundsheet.

Some mornings, he expects to see the narrow walls of a Bureau storage cupboard, but he listens to the voices drifting up from the street, familiar laughter from the rooms below, feels the blanket curled over his shoulders, until he can convince himself it’s safe to open his eyes.

Weeks after, when things seem at least vaguely under control again, Miz Eliza packs the tent into a borrowed truck and they drive out of Rivertown for a weekend. They don’t go far, responsibilities waiting and everyone still twitchy about extended absences, but they both wanted to go far enough to see the horizon spreading out around them.

Laney had offered to port them out somewhere, but that wasn’t the point, really. It wasn't about the distance - it was the journey, rattling along in a truck knowing they’d stop where they found something interesting, watching the world change around them. It was about knowing that he could go anywhere he liked, he just had to point out the direction.

Rupert liked things to be organised and reliable, and this was something people often didn’t understand: his mother was only unpredictable from the outside. They’d established patterns over the years and knew their own routines. She might not know exactly where she was going to stop, but she knew what she was looking for and how she was going to set things up when she got there. She’d let him pack the car because he knew how best to fit everything in, but all of her stuff was always in the same place as well - it just didn’t include things he rather thought of as essentials. She knew how to plan for uncertainty, however much as he needed her to, and he had always known he could rely on her.

They pitch the tent in a field with a half collapsed drystone wall and a nice view, and stay up late making shadow pictures on the canvas, old favourites and new jokes. In the morning, Rupert boils water on the battered camp stove with an equally battered whistling kettle, and they chew on cereal bars while the steam drifts into the hazy blue sky, chipped mugs cradled in calloused palms, watching the dew gradually fade as the sun rises.

This isn’t a research trip, but they hike along a rabbit run alongside the old wall anyway, poking at stones and talking about anything and everything. They don’t talk about the past months - they will, he knows, but they know each other well enough that they don’t have to agree not to dwell on it now. Now he wants to ramble through fields and pause to watch a rabbit as it eyes them warily, deciding if they’re friends or foe, to listen to his mother talk about her latest research trip. He’d spent his childhood at the Academy, learning the rules and making himself part of the framework, but he’d spent his holidays (odd weekends and unexpected weeks) exploring at his mother’s side. For all that he was at home in the hallowed halls of the Academy or the worn, warm interior of Sally-Anne’s, the alleys of Rivertown, there was always a part of him that tipped it’s head back when he stepped out into the open air and an unknown view and breathed deep.

There are plants growing up through the cracks in the stone that he wouldn’t have known the name of before, familiar now from long evenings of testing Jack on his local herblore. Bees bumble between stems, and he recites everything he remembers about their methods of communicating the location of food aloud as they walked, catching himself more than once thoughtlessly imitating Grey’s hand waving and gestures; George had taught him a mountain tune that she tended to whistle while reading papers, and he finds it spilling from his lips as they wander, and the thick jumper he’s bundled up in for the morning chill has careful warming charms worked into it that Laney had scowled over for hours alongside a patient hedgewitch prepared to spare a trick or two. They were all parts of him too, nowadays, and he’d spent months with them as far out of his reach as any other part of his home.

They rattle back into Rivertown a day later than planned, mud splattered but with a tension Rupert had forgotten he was holding gone from his shoulders. In another few weeks they travel further, back to the desert and it’s rolling dunes, another open horizon that Rupert has known and loved for years, even if it is less familiar than the rooftop view from his Academy dorm. Miz Eliza waves as they set off home, burying herself in her research again, sending him rambling letters of anecdotes and pictures of crude pottery, and he sends back clockwork care packages that she smiles over every time.

The room at Sally-Anne’s is always open to him, but he finds that he’s missed having Jack, Laney and Grey at nothing but a staircase away, so he joins them in hunting for apartments in between the work of helping to set up an independent city state and pulling together copies of all the first-hand accounts of the First League he could find for George (he had grown up with a mother in love with ancient, fragile things: he knew the light in an academic’s eyes when they felt the siren song of new research calling them, and he knows possibly before she does that she’d be heading back to the University soon)

The flat they settle into is probably too small for four, and is definitely too small for how often they actually had a rotating cast of visitors - George, of course, but also the Farris cousins sneaking out of the rebuilding Academy for a weekend visit, a few of Red’s extended family who need a place to stay while visiting their recovering kin, odd friends who drop by and stay too late to bother venturing homeward in the dark or the rain. But it’s comfortable, a little cluttered and ramshackle, odds and ends of mismatched furniture and in progress DIY - it’s theirs.

The room Jack and Grey claim has fragrant herbs drying by the window and a crowded shelf of Grey’s favourite books, Jack’s favourite of the pictures Bidi had sent him over the years tacked onto the side of the shared wardrobe - if Rupert leans on the doorframe and closed his eyes, he could have been back in the Academy, waiting to see if he was invited in to claim the unused desk, for all that nowadays Jack had claimed the lower bunk. Laney and Rupert had their own rooms, though there had been a fiercely polite argument over which of them took the larger one (Laney had won, unsurprisingly, so Rupert’s is the only room large enough to have its own desk in the corner). Laney had brought back patterned rugs from the desert, old familiar patterns that she’d been pretending she wasn’t missing, and scattered them through the apartment to cover the worn wooden floors.

There are new hedgewitch knitted blankets slung over the back of the sofa and an old one folded neatly on the foot of Rupert’s bed. The view out of the window isn’t an open horizon or the rooftops of a distant town, but that doesn’t matter; he wakes in the mornings and knows that he is home.

#Leagues and Legends #my writing #L&L fic #I wrote this on NaNo sprints this morning and have edited only at the level of trying to fix my accidental tense change #so apologies for any errors and more importantly any glaring contradictions to canon #it's been a while since I read RtD and also I can't remember what's canon vs fanon #I got to thinking about Rupert and concepts of home #I just really wanted to post this while i was still happy about it because I haven't written new fic in ages #Jack is a Beanstalk #Remember the Dust #Beanstalk #Echoes of a Giantkiller

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

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Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 6 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! it took me a while but here's a new update I hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-6-

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jan complained.

Jackie lifted her gaze from the book she was reading.

“This is the third time you say that… algebra can’t possibly be that bad.”

“For your consideration, there aren’t even numbers on these exercises, it’s Math… there should be numbers… where are the numbers?” She whined.

“Don’t look at me, why do you think I chose Art History? After high school, I promised myself my relationship with calculus was over.”

Jan sighed but focused on the assignment once again.

“Okay… I’m done… that was the last exercise of the sheet. I refuse to keep using my brain for what’s left of the day.”

Jackie chuckled.

They were alone in the copy room. It had been one of those quiet days; it was raining outside so Jan’s practice had been canceled but luckily her friend enjoyed her company while she did homework as well. In the past two hours, only a lost student walked in begging for a copy of a study guide for a mid-term for the following day. Jackie had the radio on and she had let the younger chose the station, Jan had picked a bubblegum pop radio that kept playing songs from the ’00s and the 10’s –to which she had found Jackie mumbling the lyrics a couple of times.

As much as she hated to miss her practice, she had to admit it was the first time in two weeks she had a moment to breathe. With her responsibilities and new hobby involved, she barely had time to take a break.

Jackie had her eyes on the book and one hand on the computer’s keyboard. She had been writing notes non-stop since her meeting with the dean. As she had explained it to Jan, her complaint had been discussed, and even when she presented a well-written note and had some witnesses to back it up, the only thing the university was doing was reprimand him and, –since it was the first time someone had said something about the professor’s behavior- let him continue his classes with a warning.

In terms of Jackie’s situation, they had dictated that she’d be able to present a final assignment that would include several –if not all- units of the program, and it would be evaluated by a panel of professors from similar backgrounds, to make it fair. The thing was that her former professor was the one that had formulated the questions and, aside from being a lot, they were pretty gimmicky and for all those reasons, she had started the assignment way earlier than the semester was over, just to be sure.

“Okay, I’m done for the day too.” She closed her notebook. “I feel like there’s smoke coming from my ears or something.”

“Oh, was it you? I thought it was one of the machines.”

Jackie scrunched her nose. “Anyway, it seems like it’s a slow day and I have ten more minutes here so… Do you want to go watch a movie at the cinema?”

“At the cinema? Whoa… I haven’t thought about it but it’s been ages since I went to watch a movie…”

“Is that a yes…?” Jackie did her best to hide her nervousness behind the question.

“Sure. But I have to warn you, I’m not good with horror movies.” Jan shrugged.

“I saw that coming… But there’s this old cinema called Bellamy, we could ride the subway and would be there in no time. They play random movies every day so we could just get there and grab a couple of tickets for the next feature. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. Oh! I’ll put it on the group chat in case anyone else wants to tag along.”

Jackie’s lips turned into a thin line. “Okay… you do that and I’ll finish here.”

Jan hadn’t even noticed the shift in the girl’s mood, she was way too excited typing the message on her phone.

“I hope you’re not upset but it seems it’s going to be just me and you,” Jan mentioned while Jackie closed the door of the copy room. “Everyone’s plans or they are studying or… I don’t know.”

“Oh… no… it’s fine by me if it’s fine for you.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun!” She smiled.

It was still raining outside so they shared Jackie’s red umbrella that matched with her rain boots.

“What’s with this downpour?” Jackie wiped some drops from her clothes once they got underground. “Okay, here we go.”

Jan seemed amused. “I have never ridden the subway… well, back when I was like four I’m sure my mom took us me and my brother but I have no memories of it whatsoever.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly. Honestly, it’s one of the easiest ways to travel when it’s not packed.”

Without objecting, Jan followed Jackie’s lead up close. They almost coordinated steps to avoid puddles while running; the comical situation got them laughing at loud all their way to the subway station.

“I’m out of breath.” Jackie leaned against one column before closing the umbrella.

They shook some drops out of their clothes and waited for the subway to arrive. When it arrived not even five minutes later, they rushed to climb onto the wagon before they got pushed by others passengers. At least with the rain, there was place to move and even some seats available.

Jan had decided she liked riding the subway, it was a great place to observe the diversity of the fauna of the city. There were all kinds of people around probably heading to their works or their homes or to meet friends or just somewhere different. It was exciting, to consider the unlimited possibilities.

She looked at Jackie and displayed a giant grin that had the other girl blushing lightly and looking away.

“So how did you find this place?” Jan asked after a couple of minutes.

It caught Jackie out of guard. “Huh? What do you mean?” She frowned lightly.

“I was wondering how did you find this place since it’s not near the campus.”

“Oh that… I actually discovered it a couple of years ago. Things at home with my mom after the divorce weren’t precisely on the best terms so after school I never got straight back there. Instead, I started wandering around and taking the subway or the bus to go anywhere really.” Her voice threatened with breaking but she quickly cleared her throat. “One of those times I ended up in this old building, a theatre with so much history and they played these movies I had never seen before so… I stayed there ever since.”

“Whoa… that’s…” Jan wanted to reach for her hand but the older girl hurried to jump off the seat.

“This is our stop.” She pointed out.

“Alright. We’re here.”

“We are.” Jackie showed her a smile and grabbed the umbrella, ready to face the rain. “Let’s go.”

They had arrived just in time for Carrie but since Jan had stated she didn’t enjoy horror films, they waited ten minutes for the next movie to start. Coincidentally, it was My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn so it would also work for research purposes –or that was what Jan said- aside from the fact she had never watched it.

Jackie couldn’t say she was a newbie to Hepburn’s movies, she had watched all of them at least once but having company was new to her. Since getting into college she had stopped needing the cinema as an escape, a way to avoid reality at least for a couple hours; it was after meeting her friends and starting her classes that she eventually had less time to go there or simply, didn’t need it anymore.

Now, it was a whole different scenario. She had Jan next to her and it was a bit magical to see her in the dark with the light of the screen reflecting on her face, something that made her heart race. She would’ve died to hold her hand at that instant but it was true that she’d also die if she touched her as if Jan held the power of burning her with a mere contact.

Then, the screen went black and the credits started rolling, the movie was over.

They waited until most people had left the room and then they walked out.

“So, did you like the movie?”

Jan tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a period piece from time to time and the costumes were iconic but… Professor Higgins is awful!” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her displeasure. “He spent all this time torturing Eliza… changing her to the point where she couldn’t go back to her life. That’s a psychopath.”

“Oh thank God, we agree.” Jackie sighed with relief.

“No wonder Rosé and her classmates changed part of the plot because…”

“Yeah. I’m dying to see that. How are the rehearsals going by the way?”

“They are great, I have a small part… the equivalent of one of those ladies on the horse races and I appear in two numbers but the rehearsals are so much fun with everyone. It's a nice group of people that are passionate about musicals.”

They got out of the room and saw the people already gathering for the next feature. The smell of popcorn was strong in the air just like the humidity of the rain on the carpet.

Jackie spotted a familiar face and her eyes lighted up. “Oh my God, Sophie!” She waved toward a short old woman with white hair and giant round glasses. “Jan, you have to meet Sophie”

“Jackie, darling.” She shuffled toward them. She pulled Jackie for a tight hug. The woman barely reached her waist.

“Sophie, this is my friend, Jan.” She introduced them.

“Hi-” Before Jan could say something else, Sophie also hugged her.

“Sophie is the owner of the theatre,” Jackie explained once the old lady let the younger breathe.

“Oh! That’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I have waited for ages for Jackie to finally bring a special someone…”

“No!” Jackie shook her head. “It’s- It’s not like that at all… We’re friends.”

“Pardon me, it’s only that when you introduced me to this lovely young lady I just thought… maybe someone had finally melted your cold façade.”

“Oh, Sophie… what are you saying?” She laughed nervously, her face was completely red. “Don’t listen to her… she’s old.”

Jan giggled. “It’s alright. I adore Jackie, she’s one of my best friends.”

“I haven’t seen this one in a while, you’d think she vanished or something.” The woman pointed.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I should’ve called you at least.”

“For sure.” Sophie nagged.

“It won’t happen again… I’ll come back more often after the midterms, I promise it.”

“Oh darling, you haven’t heard, have you?”

Jackie looked puzzled. “What?”

“The Bellamy is going to be demolished.”

“What?!” The girl’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How?” Jan asked, in disbelief as well.

“Well, a group of rich people has decided this is the perfect location to build one of those department stores.”

“No, no, no… this can’t be. This place is sacred, part of the cultural heritage of the city, it can’t be destroyed to build a mall.”

The old lady shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it, it’s already written.” She patted Jackie’s shoulder. “Listen, honey, the important thing is that this place served its purpose for a long, long time and we got to enjoy it.”

Jackie was on the verge of tears. “How can you say that? How can you give up just like that? Without even putting a fight? The Bellamy is not just another cinema.”

The girl stormed out of the theatre before anyone else could say something.

“Wait! Jackie!” Jan shouted but she lost the girl in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I’m sure she didn’t mean any of that.” She softly explained to Sophie.

“You don’t need to tell me, I know. Now go after her, she needs a friend right now.”

“Yeah… I will…” Jan turned around.

“Oh, and Jan, one more thing,” Sophie called. “keep an eye on her, she seems inscrutable sometimes but she’s sensitive underneath.”

Jan displayed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“Jackie! Jackie wait!”

As if it didn’t matter at all, it had stopped raining.

She found the elder laying against the wall, next to a Casablanca poster that had been there since… well… probably since Casablanca first premiered.

Jackie’s cheeks were wet and her eyes reddened but she had wiped all the tears before Jan got closer.

“Hey… I’m so sorry.” Jan looked at her with soft eyes.

Jackie closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe it… this theatre is a home to me.”

“There must be a way to save it, we’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know… it seems impossible… even Sophie has renounced.”

“Then we’ll convince her as well.” Jan grabbed her wrists. “We’ll find a way, there’s always a way.”

“Okay, Disney Channel Original Movie motivational speech.”

Jan chuckled. “What do you say if –for now- we go home and pick something to eat? I’m starving and... is it me or popcorn buckets are getting smaller?”

She got a smile from Jackie, that was a win.

“Plus, if I want to become a subway expert I’m supposed to ride it again, right?”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“I’m telling you, I know this vegetarian place that has the best eggplant tacos and veggie sushi…” Jackie was commenting when they returned to the dorms.

“Sounds amazing, just let me pick some money from my room and we’ll be ready to go. You can come with me if you want.”

“Alright.”

They climbed the stairs until Jan stopped in her tracks making Jackie almost bump into her.

“Hey, careful there…”

But the brunette was petrified, watching the scene that happened on the very same floor of her dormitory. It took Jackie a moment to locate the event that had caused such commotion but as soon as she saw it, she just wished her friend hadn’t.

There he was, Nathan, the object of her affections, walking out the room of a girl that lived in the building. A different girl, it wasn’t the girl from the first day or another girl she had seen him with before. This was a gorgeous girl –like the others- but there was something different about him -him with her- the way he put the missing lock behind her ear and got closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips, the way they smiled after their lips touched.

Jan felt sick to her stomach, her face got pale and she barely could hold the tears.

The couple returned to the room and right when the door closed, she ran directly to her room. She desperately searched for the keys.

“Jan? Are you…?” Jackie touched her shoulder.

Jan sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I just… I need to find the keys… it’s like I can’t find them anywhere.” She kept rummaging her backpack without result.

It was too late, she broke into tears, her knees gave in and she ended on the floor.

“I’m sorry, this must look so stupid in comparison to the theatre but… It hurts so badly.” Her voice broke into pieces. “I keep telling myself it’s just another girl but there’s always another girl… It's exhausting.”

“Oh, Jan… no…” Jackie kneeled next to her and embraced her in a hug. “It’s not you.”

“I know that… it will never be me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She finally found her keys and got up.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’ve lost my appetite.” Her voice sounded weak, distant.

“No, wait… you don’t have to be alone right now.” Jackie hurried to stand up.

“I really… really… want to be alone.” She sobbed harder. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She closed the door on Jackie’s face as soon as she got in.

“Jan!” Jackie knocked on the door. “Jan… please don’t do this. Jan, please… open the door.”

She tried for another five minutes but finally gave up. Jan wasn’t opening the door and the best Jackie could do was texting Rosé hoping the girl would come home earlier to take care of her.

It broke Jackie’s heart to see her like that, especially for a guy like Nathan, one that wasn’t worth the tears.

The following day, it surprised Jackie to find a text message from Jan early in the morning –earlier than any of her classes.

From Jan 🐻: Meet me at Lucky’s before class. It’s important.

Jackie jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as soon as she read it, after a night of poor sleep she was waiting for that text message.

She walked straight to the diner and found her friend sitting on a table with her computer open and her pink-haired roommate sitting in front of her.

“Hey...” She approached the table.

“Jackie, you’re here!” Jan greeted with the same energetic tone she had –even that early in the morning. Although she looked hyped, the bags under her eyes told a different story.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jackie asked before taking a seat next to her. She also eyed Rosé who just shrugged.

“Peachy.” She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee maybe? Waffles? Pancakes? French toast?”

“The waffles are really good.” Rosé pointed.

“Thanks… I’ll have some eggs maybe but… what’s going on? Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was yesterday and today is today.” Jan gestured with her hands. “I texted you because I have something super important to show you.” She pointed at her computer's screen.

That was it? They were going to pretend the Nathan incident hadn’t happened at all? Well, at least for Jan, that was the case.

“Alright… tell me.”

“So, I did some research and I believe it is possible to save the theatre if we gather enough evidence to prove it has historic importance for the city.” The page of the culture ministry was opened along with at least fifty different tabs on the subject.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you’d come with an idea since you know the place better than me. Maybe Sophie could tell us some story or we could do our own research.”

Jackie sighed. “I guess it could work but we’d need to invest hours on this and… are you sure you want to do it? I feel like you have a lot on your plate already.”

“Oh no, she devoured the pancakes the second the plate touched the table, trust me.” Rosé assured.

“I was hungry and I didn’t eat them right away, they drew a face with the blueberries so I took a picture and posted it on Instagram first.” She shook her head. “As I was saying, this is important for you, Jackie and I want to help.” She stared at her, hoping she would convince her with those arguments.

“Jan, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t even try it.” Rosé mumbled. “I already did and she chose to ignore me categorically so I followed her here to make sure she didn’t jump from a bridge or something.”

“She’s also here to hit on my coworker so it’s really a win-win situation.”

They high-fived.

“That’s lovely… but we should talk about what happened last night…”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jan stated. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…”

But Jackie was interrupted by Denali.

“Hi, how’s it going over here? Do you guys want something else?” She had her eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Can I get a cup of Americano and scrambled eggs?” Jackie asked. She needed some coffee to go through it.

“Right away. Do you girls would like something else? More coffee?”

“We’re good.” Jan smiled.

“Oh, Jan, I have your check over there if you want to collect it right now.”

“Thank you, Nali. I’ll be there in a second.”

Rosé cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

But it was like the cat had caught the pink-haired girl’s tongue.

“…if you can pour more coffee for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled politely but it was clear that Rosé was melting inside.

Once the waitress left, all the eyes were on Rosé.

“What? I got paralyzed. I can’t do it. I can’t. It is physically impossible for me to ask her out, my body reacts like that.”

“I believe, as science people and Twitter users have once referred to it, that's a case of gay panic. Have you tried in a different way?” Jackie asked before sipping some of Jan’s coffee. “What is this?” She winced.

“Decaffeinated.”

“Ugh…”

“Bitch, I have tried… I even left my number written on a $20 bill when I went to the bathroom earlier, hoping she’d see it but it’s like I’m invisible.”

“That’s not right. Denali loves to flirt and she’s single so I don’t see why she wouldn’t say yes. Oh, I know, you could invite her to the play's opening night.”

Jackie looked at the younger, Jan had dodged the conversation about her but there was no way her friend wasn’t going to dig into it later.

“Maybe I can pave the way for you… find out if she’s having a rough morning or something that affects her response.”

“Would you do that for me?” Rosé didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Of course, I have to pick up my check… my first check here.”

“Congratulations.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Thank you.” She then touched her roommate’s arm. “Leave it to me. I’ll be subtle.”

“Jan…” Before Rosé could say something, she was already heading toward the counter.

“Was it bad?” Jackie asked once the brunette left.

“Girl… You have no idea.” Rosé sighed.

“Thank you, Nali.” Jan held the check proudly in her hands.

“Is your name correct?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“Remember you work tomorrow so have a moderate amount of fun with it and stay away from ice skates and acrylic nails hot sales… Huh… I guess that only applies to me.” Denali turned around.

“Denali… I was wondering…”

The raven-haired girl dropped a pile of napkins.

“Shit. Don’t tell anyone but I forgot to put my contacts on this morning and basically, I can’t see shit without these giant glasses.” She murmured before quickly putting a pair of dark frame glasses on. She grabbed the napkins and after typing something on the computer, took them off immediately.

“Oh… that explains a lot actually…”

“What do you mean?”

Subtle Jan, subtle.

“So my roommate likes you.”

Denali almost tripped. “Wait, what?”

“She’s been trying to ask you out for the past weeks but she feels like you’re ignoring her.”

Denali dragged Jan behind the counter with her and kneeled before putting the glasses back on.

“Which one is your roommate?” She whispered.

“The one with the pink hair that comes here often… is a regular. You can't ignore her she's like one of those anime main characters with the funky hair.”

“Oh my God, Fine Wine is your roommate?”

“What?”

“She’s always singing that Kylie Minogue song and I thought it was a joke since you guys call her Rosé but…”

“That’s her name.”

“Well, she is fine wine.” Denali pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah? She even left a $20 bill with her number as a tip for you?”

“That was her?! I thought it was one of the creepy guys from table six. Oh my God…” She grabbed the jar of tips and started searching for the bill.

“Bitch if I’m missing a single dollar from that jar I swear to God…” Kandy yelled from the other side of the diner.

“Shut up, I’m in the middle of something here…” Finally, she pulled out the bill with pink glitter ink.

“It says XOXO Rosé.”

“What part of «I’m not wearing glasses» you didn't catch?”

"Is that a yes, though?

Denali nodded. She removed the glasses and waved toward their table. “Hey Rosé, if you’re not busy tonight, I’ll call you!”

Rosé blushed instantly but she nodded with a smile on her face.

Jackie, behind her, just shook her head, acknowledging that the shenanigans of her friend had worked out once again.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #rosnali #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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realelizajayne · 4 years ago

Text

June 5, 2021 Chapter 41.28

It started off as a semi-normal day. I say semi-normal because I honestly wasn’t prepared for the sh#t show I created in my mind. I should have followed the “red flags” 🚩and stayed home. But I am generally someone who runs🏃‍♀️ straight towards them like a bull uncontrollably drawn to the movement of the cape as the matador whips it around. Most people think it’s the color red the bull is drawn to. However,🐂 bulls are actually color blind so they will charge at any color. What they are actually irritated by is the movement of the matador’s cape as he whips it around. Just like us humans it wouldn’t matter what the “flag” color is if we are not in the right state of mind at the time. Godspeed ahead we too like the bull will charge ahead at the matador not f#cking prepared for the consequence both good or bad. 😆

To be fair I was having a fairly rough morning to begin with but I won’t dive into that in this chapter 🙄 I most likely will need to save that for one of my books.📚 That will be a self-help book I can take my own advice on. 🤣 I have faced a lot of “triggers” over the past 2.5 years since my Dad has passed away 😭💔 and all have been difficult. Losing my Dad, my best friend, it was as if just overnight my life had changed. My routine is different…. just everything. Nothing can ever be the same, I can’t even describe how the wave 🌊 of emotions can come and go in a splint second both happy and sad. That’s just how grief is, it can f#cking hit you out of nowhere. What I didn’t think about was being at a wedding. 👰 I mean don’t get me wrong, what a beautiful celebration 🍾 it was, and I was happy to be included to be part of it. It is always so nice to see a couple in love making a commitment and celebrating it with family and friends. The ceremony itself if you pay close attention and even though we were outside in what felt like 100 degree temperature I paid close attention. I didn’t mind the heat too much. I love the summer. Anyway if you pay close attention as I did, it is a good reminder of why two crazy love birds 🐦 even get married and what love and commitment really means. It’s not all one-sided but certainly some days it feels that way depending on your circumstance. I know I’ve been there.😩

The wedding continues and then….well I think you can probably guess where I am going with this. Yep you guessed it, the Father ❤️ Daughter dance. I was not prepared for the flood of emotions 😭💔 that entered so quickly. It was as if I couldn’t breathe. LITERALLY. I mean F#CKING LITERALLY !?!!?! I was trying to hold back my tears. The song playing “Butterfly Kisses”. I thought to myself I don’t even like this song. What the f#ck is wrong with you ? Get your sh#t together !! Get a f#cking grip ! As I tried to manage the flood of emotions, and not begin to hysterically ugly crying in front of a bunch of people, mostly who I didn’t know 😅. I couldn’t even think, I said I’ve gotta get out of here. I felt like I was in a panic, I have never felt this way before in my life. It was like I was trapped in an elevator and it had no f#cking air on the brink of breaking off from its remaining cable. As I searched for a door to get outside the first one looked like an emergency 🆘 exit so I walked to the next one. I was sure I created a scene 😩 I finally made my way outside a breath of fresh air, and I could breathe. 100 degrees outside and humid and I could breathe more than I could in the A/C if that makes any sense to you great you can explain that sh#t to me. As I sat there collecting my thoughts 💭 I realized I’m still grieving. I felt crazy, I began thinking… What the f#ck is wrong with me😤 ? Why am I freaking out😣 ? Why am I not okay🤯 ? Why am I still sad 🥺? I let out a big sign as the tears continued to fall down my face, good thing this 🤣tomboy doesn’t wear makeup 💄I said to myself you know this sh#t you're a therapist you teach it all the time. Why are you losing your sh#t !??? We can know a lot of sh#t it’s really a matter of applying it. Picking up those 🛠tools from the tool box 🧰 and using them. A lot of people get the impression that a therapist doesn’t have issues. Well jokes on them WE ARE HUMAN TOO 😎 I am double whammed with my social media presence some think the same because of that, I never have financial issues, or grieves with people or life. HAHAHAHAHA well first of all that’s not realistic no matter who you are 🤡 but thanks for glamorizing my life 🥰

Well anyway I took a few deep breaths and realized I am that f#cking bull sitting here color blind to my 🤦🏼‍♀️ surroundings and charging at the matador for waving his cape. I began to challenge what I was thinking. Why was I being so hard on myself ? Why wasn’t it okay to be 😢 sad, who said that and why the f#ck do I care what they think ?!? NOTHING was wrong with me. I’m still healing and truth be told this will be most likely for the rest of my life. I’m going to be triggered by the matador when he waved his cape. There’s nothing wrong with allowing myself to feel, and cry. 😭I’M F#CKING GRIEVING😭 !!?!?? I had a real loss in my life that I will not get back. I am still figuring out how to live my life without the physical presence of my Dad. I’m allowed to be sad, angry and I am allowed to cry. All those things are perfectly normal. Maybe that’s not everyone’s reaction to grief and certainly it’s not been my reaction to every loss I’ve had prior but it is mine this time and it is okay. I should not have to feel bad for missing my Dad and wanting to remember him or for feeling disappointed that at Chapter 41.28 I am not married and if that day ever comes🙄 he won’t be there to walk me down the aisle or dance with me. The problem is as a society we force people to bottle them up ⬆️ because it makes “us” uncomfortable. Well too f#cking bad 😜 That’s where boundaries come into play 👊🏼 I can not heal if I am not allowed to feel and if I allow myself to be afraid of storming out of a wedding because someone is going to snicker or make comments (which no one did btw) or any other scenario that may happen in the future. The truth is I don’t owe anyone an explanation for needing to take care of myself in my healing process whether it’s grief you are going through or something else as long as it’s healthy, neither do you !?! No one will understand this journey 🚀but me so who better to know what road is to be traveled. Honestly I have no f#cking clue what direction I’m headed sh#t most days I don’t even know what road I’m on, I’m winging it. I do have goals, dreams and I aspire to grow and become a better person which is what I work towards daily 👉🏼 Personal Growth, so I can be a better version of the me that I was yesterday and to make my Daddy (and my Mama) proud ❤️ I believe that’s how we sort all that sh#t out by trial and error. Follow me on my journey, and if your traveling too maybe we can grow together 🤝 Eliza Jayne

#photography #wedding #dealing with grief #grief journal #griefandloss #griefcounseling #griefsucks #what is grief if not love persevering #writer #author #authencity #model #actorslife #daughter #father #father and daughter #photooftheday #portraiture

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