#Jules Berry

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[letterboxd-loggd]

The Crime of Monsieur Lange (Le Crime de Monsieur Lange) (1936) Jean Renoir

April 14th 2025

[gatutor]

Jules Berry-Simone Simon "Le roi des palaces" 1932, de Carmine Gallone.

[postcard-from-the-past]

French actor Jules Berry on a vintage postcard

[byneddiedingo]

Le Jour Se Lève (Marcel Carné, 1939)

Cast: Jean Gabin, Jules Berry, Arletty, Jacqueline Laurent, Mady Berry, René Génin, Arthur Devère, René Bergeron, Bernard Blier, Marcel Pérès, Germaine Lix, Gabrielle Fontan, Jacques Baumer. Screenplay: Jacques Viot, Jacques Prévert. Cinematography: Philippe Agostini, André Bac, Albert Viguier, Curt Courant. Production design: Alexandre Trauner. Film editing: René Le Hénauff. Music: Maurice Jaubert. 

Daybreak, the Anglicized title of Marcel Carné's Le Jour Se Lève, recalls another great attempt at poetic cinema, F.W. Murnau's late silent Sunrise (1927). But where Murnau strove for a kind of allegorical poetry, to the extent of labeling his characters The Man, The Wife, and The Woman From the City, Carné's poetry is rooted in actuality. Jean Gabin plays François, a factory worker who falls in love with Françoise (Jacqueline Laurent), who works in a flower shop. He follows her one night to a music hall, where she watches an act by the animal trainer Valentin (Jules Berry). At the bar, he strikes up a conversation with Clara (Arletty), who was Valentin's stage assistant but has just broken up with him. When he discovers that Françoise is infatuated with Valentin, François lets himself be drawn into a relationship with Clara. Eventually this quartet of relationships will turn fatal. But Carné and his screenwriters Jacques Viot and Jacques Prévert choose to tell the story in flashbacks: The film begins with François shooting Valentin and then holing up in his apartment as the police lay siege to it, trying to arrest him. The film superbly mixes suspense, as we wait for the outcome of François's standoff with the police, with romance, as we learn of the affairs with Françoise and Clara that brought him to this point. It's often cited as a precursor of film noir for its mixture of passion and violence. Gabin is the quintessential world weary protagonist, Berry the embodiment of corruption, and Arletty the woman who's seen it all too often.  

[famousborntoday]

Jules Berry was a French actor.

Link: Jules Berry

[emilyskinners]

defending overhated characters on the internet isn't enough. I need a mini gun.

[cherrydipp]

HI guys i’m here to yap about the symbolism of paul singing solo in justice for tulsa. adjusts my tie okay here i go.

Paul singing in Justice for Tulsa is SO important. Him being the only soc (besides Cherry) to sing/speak is basically showing how he is leading the group. He is taking on the role of “pack leader” literally immediately after Bob’s death. When you dive deeper into this fact, or honestly from first glance, it’s SYMBOLIC and crucial to the storytelling. Paul is (was) is Bob’s right-hand man — his best friend out of all the boys.

However, stay with me here, he is also the eldest member of their little group. He is the adult, hence why the cops go to and interrogate him first. He is the adult, so all of the socs are looking at him for what to do next, waiting to see what’s the next move. Bob had always been the one organizing everything, so now the responsibility as well as all eyes fall on Paul. He is practically the gang’s big brother when you think about it.

None of the socs weren’t going to accuse Cherry or even bother her in the beginning. The girls understood she was grieving (for goodness sake she just like her boyfriend), and the guys well. They’re the guys. This all changed during Justice for Tulsa when Cherry goes “You were only having fun?” accusing the boys of starting it. The music changes and so does Paul’s voice — he goes from sorrow to angry. His reply is him initiating the revolt (don’t think that’s the right word but we ball) against Cherry.

The socs are drawn to side with him. Beverly suddenly removes her comforting hands away from Cherry and instead goes to join her boyfriend beside Paul. Even Marcia is contemplating what to do. His rage is transferred onto the others as his tone of voice/singing becomes more directed and bitter. They are so quick to believe him when he says Cherry held Ponyboy’s hand (even though we as the audience know he is gaslighting her), and quickly turn against the girl as well.

Paul CONTINUES to get louder as the song goes on, the entire verse after “Bob didn't need to die!” (which is his snapping point, where the line of not targetting her has officially been crossed. Marcia joined the others and Cherry left the scene) is him practically SCREAMING. His mic is turned up and the others become an ensemble with him as the lead, chanting the same phrases as him. This further proves how he became their new leader.

ALSO not to mention when he was being interrogated by the cops, he was NOT afraid to give up Ponyboy and Johnny. He actually says their names as soon as he asked. With that, he also tries to get Cherry to back him up and tell the police it was them two, despite her not even being there when he was murdered. He nudges her and eggs her on because he KNOWS she is not going to crack. She is going to resist releasing any information because she knows the type of person Bob was (hence why she dumped him). Although, if anyone can break her, it’s going to be Paul. He’s going to intimidate her and get the others to as well, which they don’t even need to be told, they just DO it.

As he gets closer while singing “You should be as mad as me, at the senseless tragedy,” she backs away MUCH like she did when Bob was yelling at her after the Drive-In. When the ensemble joins in, Brill gets real close to her and tries to take Bob’s jacket from her grasp, which she retaliates and immediately pulls back.

Basically, what I’m trying to get at is that Paul became the king of the socs after Bob died. They looked to him for guidance, whether it be because they were scared, see him as an older brother, or even were just completely lost. He was the most responsible.

okay baiii

[saturninefig]

say hello to jules mayberry, my nsb founder 🌱💡

jules is a mischievous tech girlie who loves the finer things in life. she can be a little mean, and she's frequently jealous of other sims, but her heart is in the right place most of the time. all she wants is to set up a secure future for herself and the many generations to come. ✨

jules loves video games, the computer (she literally will not do anything else) and tasty vegetarian food.

she dislikes people who don't appreciate gifts (*cough cough* j huntington iii), bros, and romance music.

she currently lives in 18 culpepper house in san myshuno, but has plans to retreat to the 'burbs when she finds her mr right (well, more like 'mr that'll do'). 

✼ more info under the cut ✼

✦ backstory: both of jules' parents were scientists. they were friendly, smart, and perfectly lovely people – though they definitely spent more time in the lab than they did at home. having died when she was a teenager in a 'work accident' (it's all very hush-hush), jules took her small inheritance and put it towards a pad in the city rather than university. after one semester, she decided the academic route wasn't for her. besides, who needs a degree in this day and age anyway?

✦ challenge goals: (i don't have all the packs so i had to improvise a little)

master tech guru career – start-up entrepreneur branch

complete chief of mischief aspiration

master mischief and logic skills

complete elements collection

✦ my goals:

make two enemies

have at least one child 

move out of the city to a fancy home in the suburbs

be bffs with her children, unlike the way her parents were with her

have §100,000 in savings

✦ other notes:

i'm shockingly bad at making male sims, so this is going to be a matriarchal legacy (this includes nb and trans sims)

i use thepancake1's more traits in CAS mod because three just isn't enough (i chose the remaining traits based on personal preference, but i plan to randomize it/inherit traits from gen 2 onwards)

jules got unlimited funds to decorate her apt to make it Cute but i dropped her remaining money down to §1000 to reflect her 'inheritance'. girlfriend spent most of her money on plants and wall art (#relatable).

since i don't have all the packs, i'll be mixing and matching the og nsb challenge with this version alongside whatever whims tickle my fancy or enhance my story ;)

thanks to @cupidgnome and @deathbypufferfish for the psd aspirations template and icons. and of course, @lilsimsie for creating the nsb challenge 🖤

[trevlad-sounds]

Invisible Club 34

09.10.2024

Intro 00:00 Binaural Space–Fractured Beyond Repair 01:17 The Qualitons–Lil’ Bonch 05:57 Receptor Modulator–The oldest model 10:12 Natureboy Flako–Numero Cien 17:33 Scanner–Beginning of an Unknown Century 20:03 Sean Ono Lennon, Devon Hoff, Yuka Honda, Michael Leonhart, João Nogueira, Mauro Refosco, Ches Smith, Johnny Mathar-Starwater 25:30 Cate Brooks–Void Patterns 32:57 Bit Cloudy–Coronation Crack 35:40 Floating Points–Vocoder [Club Mix] 38:46 Pulsliebhaber–Galerina Marginata 46:14 Matt Berry–I Cannot Speak 50:00 Neil Cowley Trio–Adam Alphabet 52:34 Prairiewolf–The Meander 55:48 Cory Wong–Sell By Date 59:29 Furii–Ilk 1:03:58 Hayden Pedigo–Some Kind of Shepherd – Live 1:07:46 Outro 1:12:52

[inquisitor-julia]

Been playing a lot of sims lately and I started a legacy challenge and I need everyone to view my newest oc baby whose name is Dagny and her baby whose name is Naveen 🥰

Doing the Not So Berry challenge and she's the mint generation!

Might perhaps start a separate blog for sims ocs but for now you all get this post

[myoldsox]

"Three tomatoes are walking down the street: a poppa tomato, a momma tomato, and baby tomato. Baby tomato starts lagging behind and poppa tomato gets really angry, goes back and squishes him, and says, 'Catch up!'"

Pulp Fiction (1994)

[carrotdetective]

i haven’t even shared the species each Sharpie is (almost for a few) based on:

• Dynoraptor = Pyroraptor

• Symphony = Parasaurolophus

• Thunder = Pteranodon

• Shark = Siamogale

• Eclipse = Brodioptera

• Berry = Pachylemur (with a cup of ruffled lemur fluff)

• Inferno = Saichania

• Phantom = Vulcanops

• Blitzoraptor = Deinonychus

• Grippe = Timonya

• Aeter = Ornimegalonyx (Cuban Giant Owl)

• Shitazu = Bulbadon

• Rook = Issoire lynx

• Halbard = Rex (Super Mario World)

• Zephyr = Apatosagittarius

• Kruptos = Campanile giganteum (although the shell is spiraled, so the real-life species is mostly for inspiration)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}

Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 

“Dinner.”

You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”

He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”

You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 

You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.

“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 

You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.

“You stole it.”

Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”

“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”

He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 

“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.

The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”

You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.

“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.

Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”

“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”

“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 

“Figured as much.”

“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”

“So you forgive me?”

“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”

He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”

He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”

You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”

Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 

“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 

Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”

“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.

Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”

You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”

“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”

“I fell off.”

He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 

You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.

You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.

Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 

When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 

“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”

Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”

You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 

“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”

He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”

“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 

“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”

It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.

The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.

You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.

“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.

“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”

“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.

“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”

“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”

You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”

“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”

“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”

You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”

His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 

It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 

Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”

“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”

Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”

“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”

You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 

“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.

“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.

Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”

Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”

“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.

The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”

Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”

“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”

Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”

Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.

“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”

You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”

Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.

“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.

“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”

Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”

You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.

Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”

He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.

“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”

Click here for next part.

[the-nosy-neighbor]

I was going through text and sound today, looking for mentions of a thing (I'll talk about it later) being repeated, and I pulled up all the audio from the secret videos:

Because at this point, I've rabbitholed far, far away from where I meant to be. I had also gotten a bit distracted about "the numbers are so hard to read." I don't think I've ever read any theorizing including numbers.

And as I was watching these videos, I saw Wally reach out and tap his cup 3 times. So, I started over, noting the numbers that are said or visuals that you can count:

Poppy/Howdy: Can see 4 balls of yarn

Poppy/Sally: Wally taps 3 times, 2 geese because they are that puzzle kind

Sally/Howdy: There are 2 fruit loops right in our field of vision

Frank/Barnaby: 10 figures (an extra on each side you can see as the video slightly pans.) 3 tomatoes can be seen, with 1 squashed

Barnaby/Eddie: this one doesn't seem to have one? There are 2 or 3 letters on the screen, it's hard to tell

Julie/Frank: 6 figures, 2 tomatoes

Julie/Eddie: 4 crayons

Frank/Eddie: A ton of paper chains. I noticed during this scene that Eddie calls Frank "Frank" and then changes to Mr. Frankly, so it got me to wondering if the lack of number is because a plot point is in the segment. (I know, way out there)

Frank/Poppy: 6 apples on the board, 1 doily

Sally/Jules: 3 images on the script board, Julie makes 3 decrees, she demands 2, 20, 30 in hopscotch,

Julie/Barnaby: 3, 2, 1 (Remember to come back to look at Barnaby talking about being small) Also, here, Julie says "I have a joke that will knock your head off." That's not a typical way to say that. Usually, it's "knock your socks off" so I think we can assume that this is more headless Barnaby motif.

Barnaby/Howdy: 1 ice cream, 1 berry, 2 straws, 1 spoon

Howdy/Eddie: 5 apples, they say 1 and 2

Barnaby/Home: 3, 1, 2 , 4, 4, 2

I may be way off base here, but we've been told about the numbers for a while now. I also want to post another thing about numbers later.

I really don't think it would be accidental, but I don't really know how often numbers are used in a video/script/conversation naturally. Also, I would just be assuming that they wanted us to count things in front of us. That is kind of a crazy idea.

But on the other other hand, the videos are in a particular order (they are named with numbers). The going theory on that is that they progress through the day during the videos, first video being the morning and last video being the evening. But what if the videos are also numbered so that we can put numbers in the right order?

We also had this mechanic in the hidden sound clip naming, which allowed us to hear Wally's message in order. Numbers being ordered that way isn't too far fetched when considering the precedent.

In short, I don't know, but here are some numbers. I think there is something missing from this theory, in that we haven't been provided with a key to tell us what numbers count. Then we'd have to find some kind of way to translate those numbers into something usable.

Comments and ideas welcome. I will even accept and encourage telling me I've been staring at Welcome Home for too long..

I'm going to go find a random video and see how many times you get numbers or a repeated word.

[jusst-you-race]

yay fun game! thank you for tagging me @wisteriagoesvroom <3

last song? méditation from thais - jules massenet

fave colour? idk if I have one? brown or purple or green if I had to pick

last book? last book I finished was Circe - madeline mills, but I’m currently most of the way through sense and sensibility

last movie? I cannot remember…. it must have been Conclave actually

last TV show? daredevil born again! it slapped and I might be back in my fratt era

fave flavour? berry of some sort I’d say would be my most universal ‘choice’

sweet/savoury/spicy? sweet. I have such a sweet tooth. baked goods >>>>>

tea or coffee? tea!!! I like both but tea is my staple (making a cup as I do this)

last thing I googled? how to turn off auto capitalisation in google docs… it’s annoying as hell when trying to write chat fics with improper capitals

current obsession? whittakers chocolate… might be the thing I miss most when I move so I’m savouring it while I still have it

currently working on? I’m trying so hard to finish ccc… the new glance fic I’ve decided to write… and making some more clothes for myself before I move!

looking forward to? I’m getting a new tattoo in a month!!! also I guess I should say I’m looking forward to moving but honestly I’m more terrified about it than anything…

low pressure tags for my lovelies @wanderingblindly @utopiastri @pitlanewrites @boxboxbrioche @britrrari @hulknussen <3<3