#Killer Instinct has great music

[bleaksqueak]

I've shared this before, I'll share it again, and in the future I'll share it again and again! But this is absolutely my favorite fighting game track ever made. Let it get going, too. Holy shit the parts that play during Critical Health and High Combos are amazing. Ofc despite being a big fighting game fan my other all time favorite is from the same series. Sorry everyone else, sorry sorry. You're all great but you're not a Hammer Horror pipe organ masterpiece that has no business being a fighting game track but THAT DIDN'T STOP IT.

[defectivevillain]

this winding labyrinth, chapter 12

chapter twelve: consumption

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors or pronouns are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 12, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-11, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

warnings: typical violence, gore, blood, cannibalism, self-deprecating thoughts

Your dreams have only grown more convoluted and inexplicable since Frederick Chilton’s death. First dominated by somber blues interspersed with the unmistakable crimson stained across your skin, your nightmares now carry familiar yellow-grey tints. You are often haunted by the sound of wings swiftly beating in the air; harsh, warm breaths hitting your neck and sending shivers down your spine; and the dull burn of midday sunlight. 

Reportedly, William Blake—the artist who created The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun—was under-appreciated throughout his life. Only the onset of the Romantic Age brought suitable attention to his works, both written and visual. There is nothing about Blake that strikes you as particularly relevant to the killer’s violent tendencies. It seems that his obsessive attention only lies with the painting itself: with broad shoulders supporting swooping wings and pale hands clasped in fervent emotion. Further research informs you that, despite Blake’s known skepticism and scrutiny of religion, The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun was situated in a series of paintings intended to depict scenes from the Bible. You can’t necessarily see the killer as a devout or pious person, but he certainly seems to treat the painting with a sense of reverence. 

Your conversation with Hannibal weighs on your mind, as your discussions with him often do. You can’t help but think that his phrasing was entirely intentional—and that the term ‘consumption’ is indicative of more than a mere transformation. Jack seems to think the same. When the two of you track down the painting’s physical location at the Brooklyn Museum in New York, you finally start to feel as if you have a lead. 

It’s roughly a six hour drive to the museum. You spend the time focused on the road, while occasionally switching radio stations when the music starts to bore you. At some point, Jack calls you to ensure your travel is going well—and the two of you review your next course of action. Finally, after what feels like far too long, you’re situated in a cramped parking lot behind the museum. You’re immediately grateful that Jack called ahead and spoke to lead officials at the museum, thereby ensuring your visit would be unhindered by administrative red tape. You pay a glance at the clock: it’s 8:27 p.m. The museum closed to the public nearly two and a half hours ago. You stall in the car for a few moments before heading up the steps, pretending to feel calm despite the steady thrumming of your adrenaline. 

Jack and you don’t expect much direct evidence to come from this visit, aside from visitor data that the BAU can comb over and scrutinize. As time has passed, you’ve narrowed in on several key traits of the killer’s… which will certainly eliminate some people. Then again, the museum likely only tracks voluntary disclosures of information. The visitor database likely only has gender, age, marital status, and any past visits or contributions. Still, it could be a start. 

Admittedly, there’s another component to this site visit. Jack and you have struggled to pin down the killer’s relationship to the painting. An in-person visit will allow you to get a better look at the painting. As you finally make it up the steps and towards the accessible door where you’re directed to enter, Hannibal’s voice rings in your ears. Consumption. Becoming. His true self will be eradicated upon completion of the process. Is there any chance the killer has visited this museum to get a look at the painting? Did he ever stand frozen in front of it, a silent and strangely foreboding figure quietly warding off other visitors from its magnificence? Did he ever walk down these halls with a visceral purpose? 

Your concentration is broken by the telltale jangle of keys. Filing those thoughts away for later, you approach the front desk and show them your FBI badge—explaining that you have a brief meeting with one of the curators of the museum. They nod and turn their back on you for a moment, mumbling something into their walkie talkie before sighing. 

“I’ll go fetch her,” the receptionist promises, resignedly glancing down the hall towards the escalators. “Shouldn’t be too long.” 

You thank them and wait with bated breath. Three minutes… four minutes…. Five minutes… The time drags on with a painful clumsiness. After ten minutes, you begin to pace restlessly. You’re skeptical of why they’re taking so long—it’s after hours, which means there shouldn’t be any other distractions in the building. Are the archives far away? A million different explanations run through your mind, each more unreasonable than the last.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, the receptionist returns with the curator in tow. She introduces herself and you’re quick to shake her hand, unable to hide your relief. Your thoughts were quickly spiraling into fantastical territory, as you dreaded several different dangers that could’ve prevented her from arriving. But the curator is calm and collected, pushing her glasses up her nose and staring at you with gleaming brown eyes. Her hair falls in elegant dark brown locs that frame her face beautifully; she wears a pale lavender blazer with a pencil skirt and loafers. You immediately feel self-conscious of your rather plain attire. The FBI has always been stringent on uniform requirements, especially when it comes to working in the field. The most you can get away with is a mildly patterned dress shirt and slacks. The curator’s warm brown skin is entirely void of scars or marks—unlike yours, you think self-consciously. The scar on your left eye seems to draw a lot of attention, as people often ask you how you got it. You feel a brief and unfamiliar stab of envy before you refocus your thoughts. 

If the curator senses your insecurity she is kind enough to ignore it—instead offering a handshake. “I’m Evelyn, one of the Collections Curators here.” You shake her hand and introduce yourself in return. Evelyn is quick to lead you down the hall towards the escalators with a practiced ease. Feeling a strange urge to make conversation, you ask her how long she’s been working at the museum. Through your unexpectedly long walk across the second floor and through several winding halls, you learn a bit more about her: she’s been working at the museum for almost eight years now; she studied anthropology in school and went back for her graduate degree in museum studies, with concentrations in art history and writing; and she is particularly interested in art stemming from the Romantic period.

You always feel a strange mix of contentedness and self-doubt when speaking to other people around your age. The FBI has dominated your life for so long that it’s hard for you to imagine a time when you weren’t pursuing criminals and investigating crime scenes. And while that may sound exciting to many, the life of an agent like yourself is heavily romanticized. Not to mention, such work can easily bleed into all aspects of your life. The past few years have been especially difficult for you when it comes to maintaining your work-life boundaries—they’re practically nonexistent now. Conversations like these ones—innocuous, harmless—remind you of the life you could’ve had. It’s bittersweet. 

You finally manage to focus on the task at hand, as Evelyn stops in the middle of a room lined with counters, drawers, and shelves as far as the eye can see. She explains that you’re currently standing in one of the museum’s many storerooms, where they keep items that are not on exhibition. It seems Jack briefed the curator a little, because she already knows which painting you’re looking for. There’s a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes, but it’s quickly suppressed with an admirable professionalism. Her gaze flits to your badge, hanging from your right pocket, before she’s asking you what you’ll need for investigation. Evelyn proves to be extremely helpful, as she gives you the contact information of the Audience Services Manager who can give you access to the visitor database. In terms of the painting itself, she gives you a quick overview of the process: she’ll go into the back room and retrieve the work; when she returns, you’re allowed to look at it but not touch it. 

"The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun is extremely sensitive to light, so it’s kept hidden away in that storage room.” She explains. You follow her gaze to find a steel door and a black badge scanner next to it. Evelyn leaves you with the promise that she’ll return shortly. You’re left to your thoughts, which are quickly returning to the unpleasant spiral they were before. You restlessly pace up and down the aisle of the storage room, your hands shoved in your pockets and your mind running a mile a minute. 

After a while, you glance down at your watch. It’s been ten minutes. You’re growing worried. After a few more minutes spent in deliberation, you decide to look around the room for a neglected employee badge to get you into that room. Suddenly, time seems to be speeding away from you; you’re only growing more panicked as you throw open drawers that definitely shouldn’t be touched. After several minutes, you finally find a badge and nearly sigh in relief. 

Scanning the badge opens the door with a devastatingly loud buzzing noise. You enter the room to find the space dimly lit, complete with glass casings and rows of shelves that nearly extend out of sight. The shelves are mobile, you realize upon closer inspection. Cranking the hand crank at the end of the room will push them aside. Frowning, you take a few more cautious steps into the room—until you see a pair of black loafers, just barely visible between the sprawling shelves. Heart racing, you listen for another presence before silently making your way over. When you finally reach the partition, you find Evelyn sprawled across the ground. There’s no visible sign of blood, but you still quickly crouch down to feel for a pulse. Her heart rate is a bit slow, but otherwise present. You take a slow breath and remain frozen before her for several more moments, ensuring the assailant isn’t in the room. Then you grab your phone from your pocket and quickly input the five digit number that acts as a distress signal, alerting Jack and the nearby authorities. After listening for disturbances again, you manage to pull Evelyn off to the side and shelter her behind one of the desks. With any luck, the assailant will be too distracted with you to notice her. 

You have a gut feeling the assailant is the same killer you’re searching for. But your suspicions aren’t confirmed until you hear a violent tearing sound, as if something is being ripped in half. You glance across the room and hear another shredding sound; immediately, you quietly move to hide between two of the shelves. Evelyn hadn’t told you where the painting’s exact location was, but you don’t think you need it. You’re certain the killer—the Dragon, as he fashions himself—is here in this very room. Moreover, it seems as if he’s currently ripping the painting into small pieces. 

Now, though, there’s a haunting silence. You lean closer to the shelf in front of you, only to hear nothing. You’re not sure how long you remain there before you hear the slightest inhale and a sound that sounds weirdly similar to chewing. Lightning searing through you, you start to connect everything together. Consumption. Hannibal was referring to it in the literal sense, after all. The killer is consuming the painting to make himself one with it. 

Right about now is when you would surge forward and point your gun at the killer, successfully apprehending him. But you only have a knife. After all, this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a mere conversation with the curator. Jack and you never thought the killer would actually show up—and at the same time as your visit, no less. Besides, you figured you may not make a great first impression with the museum curator by carrying a visible weapon around in the building. You regret that notion now, of course. But it’s too late for regret. 

In your musing, it seems the killer has finished chewing and swallowing the painting. You suppress a shudder at the thought of eating the canvas: the dry, starchy material sticking to the roof of your mouth; the wet lump traveling down your throat. It sounds revolting.

Of course, you don’t have time to contemplate the thought, as you realize the killer’s footsteps are sounding far nearer than before. There’s a brief pause and you inch your way towards the mouth of the shelves.

There’s an ominous creak and your heart drops to your stomach as you realize the shelf in front of you is slowly inching its way towards you. The killer is rearranging the shelves—likely returning them to what they were before he took the painting. But now you’re stuck in an aisle as the shelves move to close you in. Thankfully, they move rather loudly; still, you place a hand over your mouth to stifle your quick breaths and quietly inch out of the rapidly shrinking space. By some miracle, you manage to make it out before you’re completely crushed. 

Unfortunately, this places you right within the killer’s line of sight. He’s wearing some sort of covering that obscures the lower half of his face, but you can still see the moment his eyes find yours. He lurches forward in a surprising bout of speed, knocking you to the ground before you can grab your knife. 

You’re immediately forced to reckon with one realization: you’re not fighting a man. You’re fighting a beast. He does not brandish a weapon threateningly or engage in swift hand-to-hand combat. Instead he bites and thrashes; writhes and yanks at anything within reach. His fingernails are long and sharp, and they break the skin of your arms as you try to shove him off of you. You’ve had extensive combat training to prepare you for virtually any kind of situation. But when it comes to a fight like this—purely physical and fueled with adrenaline—you feel woefully unprepared and outmatched. 

Your knife is concealed in your belt, but the guy’s hands latch around your throat and squeeze with a truly frightening strength. Your vision immediately stutters as spots flash across the room. A roaring sound floods through your ears; you try to wrench his grip off, but he’s shifting his weight forward—and it feels as if he’s shoving you through the floor. The world is pulsing around you as you try in vain to reach for your knife. You fumble it out of your pocket as your vision threatens to fall to black; you manage to stab him in the side and his grip fumbles long enough for you to escape. 

You immediately push yourself to your knees and brace yourself against the ground, heaving and rasping as you finally get the air you were fighting for. Nausea burns in your throat and saliva falls from your lips as you regain control. You hear a sickening squelch and a harsh clang; you look up to find the killer stepping on your blood-slicked knife and kicking it across the floor, sending it skittering away from you. 

It’s as if he isn’t even wounded. He’s descending on you with the same ferocity as before, panting like a predator salivating for its prey. At this point, you’re attempting to get away from him—only for him to harshly grab your collar and slam you into the ground. Your head rattles and throbs; blood falls from your nose and down past your lips. The killer harshly flips you around until you’re on your back, dizzily looking up at him. Then he dips his head down dangerously close to your neck and bites. You scream and try to shove him off of you, only for him to rise moments later with a bloodied chunk of flesh between his teeth. Your stomach rolls in disgust and there’s a violent buzzing sound echoing in your ears. Through sheer panic and bone-deep fear, you grapple with the man long enough to get him off of you. Something flashes in his eyes mere moments before you harshly knee him in the gut. It gets him off of you, leaving you just barely enough time to scramble for the discarded knife. You make a mad grab for it, expecting to be harshly dragged back by the ankle. Instead, you face no resistance. But, once you reach the knife, he’s already out of the room. 

Swearing, you stumble after him—but the guy is fast. You run down the hall as quickly as you can, only to look around and find no sign of him anywhere. You look along the floor for a trail of blood or a wayward footprint, but there’s nothing. It’s as if he was never here in the first place. You grip your knife tightly, attempting to breathe normally despite the overwhelming tightness in your throat, pulsing in your chest, and throbbing in your temple. 

Your adrenaline is swiftly falling, even with the knowledge that the killer could still be lurking around any corner. You press a shaking hand to the edge of your neck; it comes back dripping with blood. Something like a whimper escapes your lips as you promptly topple over, just barely catching yourself from a nasty collision with the ground. Try as you might, you can’t seem to get yourself back up—and you’re giving into the shadows creeping across your vision without much of a fight. 

You wake up in a hospital. 

Your first instinct is to groan—and you attempt to do just that, but the muscles in your throat constrict and you choke on a breath instead. Immediately, there’s a hand on your shoulder and a patient voice admonishing you for the effort. The nurse gives you a brief summary of your condition, explaining that you’ve been unconscious for a few days. You’ve suffered a moderate strain to your vocal cords after the killer’s attempted strangulation, which explains your current inability to speak. You’re told that this will pass in time, as long as you take it easy. You also have a mild concussion, but that’s pretty standard fare for you. 

There’s a dull ache running through your limbs as you summon the energy to push yourself out of the bed and head for the bathroom. You just barely catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, but it’s enough to send a renewed wave of fear and disgust running through you. Your neck is mottled with bruises, an unsightly mix of vivid purple and blue. You nearly look like a walking corpse. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you reach for the spot where the killer bit you, only to find a bandage hiding the damage. You stare at your reflection defeatedly for a while, before eventually convincing yourself to return to bed. It’s clear your stamina has been affected, because even standing still for a few minutes is enough to make you fatigued. You blink and lean back into the pillow behind you. Despite the dull thrumming pain that seems to run across your entire body, you fall asleep within moments.

For a few more days, your life is only defined by sleep. You sleep, wake up, go to the bathroom, and go back to sleep. It’s a vicious cycle—one that very nearly convinces you of your uselessness—but you manage to remain bedridden for the duration of your stay. The damage to your neck and throat is something you haven’t experienced before, and you don’t want to jeopardize the healing process. 

Unfortunately, this means you’re at the hospital for more than a week. As you slowly heal, you find yourself assaulted with an immense desire for company. Beverly visited you nearly every other time you were incapacitated; but you’re nearly six hours from Quantico now. And besides, you haven’t exactly been a great friend to her lately. You’ve been too absorbed in your own affairs to offer her support or spend much time with her. No, this hospital visit is different: you don’t see Beverly or Jack. (Or Hannibal, a traitorous voice reminds you, summoning memories of a soup garnished with your own kidney and a kind smile that seemed strangely genuine.)

You do, however, have an unexpected visitor. Evelyn enters your room one morning, a sympathetic smile rising on her face when she sees you. “Hey,” the curator says. There are slight dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise she looks healthy. You feel a smile rising on your lips in response, happy to see she’s looking well. “How are you feeling?” 

You tap your throat and she grimaces, evidently getting the message. Then you reach over to the nightstand and show her the notepad and pen the nurses gave you. She nods and takes a seat at your bedside, patiently waiting for your response. Your penmanship is slightly shaky, but you manage to get it down with relative ease: You shouldn’t be here. I almost got you killed.  

She frowns. “Don’t say that,” she admonishes you gently. “You couldn’t have known that would happen. Besides, you fought him off. Who knows what he would’ve done otherwise.” She shakes her head in disbelief. 

You meet her eyes and feel your throat begin to burn. There’s such an intense longing building in your chest and you can’t quite pinpoint what that desire is meant for. Friendship? Companionship? A normal life? A stable career, without the emotional turmoil and survivor’s guilt? A face unmarred by killer’s knives? 

You swallow past all those feelings and manage an unsteady smile. Evelyn doesn’t deserve any of this—you will not dump all of these thoughts on her. She doesn’t deserve your emotional baggage. What she deserves is a return to her normal life—and a departure from you. It would be best for Evelyn if you never saw her again. 

But she is incredibly compassionate, and promptly refuses to award you any blame. She sits by your side for almost an hour, having a virtually one-sided conversation while you write out your responses. Evelyn’s kindness only reminds you of just why you first entered the academy. You wanted to protect people like her. Not that they couldn’t protect themselves; rather, you wanted to ensure they never had the need to do so.  

And look where that got you, Frederick Chilton whispers to you mockingly. You should have stayed away.  

You ruin everything you touch and everyone you meet, Abel Gideon laughs. You should have stayed away.  

Away, Garret Jacob Hobbs says, his voice slowly blending with Clark Ingram’s in a terrifying tone, away away away away away- 

Evelyn’s voice breaks you from your thoughts; she’s getting up from her seat, and you can’t decide whether you should be relieved or dejected. She does write you a quick note, with her phone number and a wholesome ‘Get well soon!’ message with a smiley face drawn next to it. She also gives you a hug before she leaves; your eyes burn as you reciprocate it, desperate for comfort even though you don’t deserve it. You save her number in your phone, despite knowing you’ll never contact her. It doesn't matter how much you may want to speak with her. You will never pluck up the courage to separate yourself from the unquestionable knowledge that you brought a killer to her doorstep. She survived your life once—you will not make her do that again. 

It’s not the first time you’ll distance yourself from someone because of your work, and you know it likely won’t be the last. It hurts all the same. You rub at your eyes tiredly, a sudden exhaustion pressing you into the stiff mattress and forcing your eyelids shut. You quickly find yourself a victim of those confusing, unsettling dreams of yellows and greys once more.

next chapter

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[backonrepeat]

BG3 Villains modern corporate au

Gortash: tech bro/genius entrepreneur. His "rags to riches" story has been covered in dozens of think pieces and business profiles. Probably was on one of those 30 under 30 lists, or something, at some point. He plays the "outsider" card to great effect (terrible haircut, fancy sneakers, no tie,...) and is quite popular, despite the numerous reports on the terrible working conditions in his company and his ideas not being near as profitable as he makes them out to be (or not being entirely his at all). Despite all his wealth, he's still ultimately beholden to his VC investors, Bane Inc. (I don't want to say he's like el*n musk, because i despise that man but... He's exactly like el*n musk except more charismatic and with jason isaacs' voice)

Orin (and Durge): nepobabies. Super rich family, Succession-style, where maybe dad Bhaal was the one to make a fortune and all his kids ride on the coattails of his success, fighting amongst themselves to be the one who gets to succeed him. Durge is the heir apparent, smart, charismatic, and with a true killer instinct, until Orin leaks some scandalous info that gets them cancelled and fired from the company. (Gorion's Ward is the kid that left the family to go and be a social worker or activist)

Ketheric: old school CEO, inherited a small family company, he used to be a good boss and look out for his employees. After a bitter divorce, and a fallout with his daughter after she came out, he buried himself in his work, became obsessed with success to try and win his family back. He sold the company to a large multinational in order to run Aylin's rival company out of business, screwed over his employees (and himself), and has been unsuccessfully trying to reconcile with Isobel ever since.

Auntie Ethel: runs a very successful MLM essential oils scheme

Raphael: bastard son of star lawyer Mephistopheles, tries his best to follow in his father's footsteps, to become a cutthroat lawyer. He even starts screwing his secretary, Harleep (Mephisto's spy, of course), to emulate his father's toxic behaviour. Deep down, he dreams of Broadway (and is part of an amateur musical theatre company)

The Emperor: former activist, now part of a political large lobby, still convinced he's on the right side of things. Tries to get all his activist friends and colleagues to join the lobby, after all the pay is so much better, and is puzzled when they refuse and call him a sell-out.

Vlaakith: career politician. Has been in office for what feels like forever, there's no removing her. There are better, younger politicians in her party who have great potential, but she sabotages them in order to remain in power.

[108garys]

Seared

so here it is, the previously unnamed Du'lie soulmate au

I went with the "first words" concept for how it could be played with in this context, it takes place during the game and I also wanted to see how it'd go to be like "oh no!" about the realisation of meeting your soulmate and this is very much "don't evil people deserve happiness too?" 😂

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @tatjana-fantasy @mybrainrotforreal @tinynightmarewoman @aydeenchan @qusok @unhingedlesbear @kindheartedgummybears @ctrvpani

warnings are: canon typical violence, blood, canon reinterpreted, obsessive serial killer stuff, medical stuff, dismemberment, the universe says so, nerve fire related to concept, everyone else is mentioned but they aren't making it out

I did abandon some further epilogue concepts because I felt the story ended where it needed to and anything after would just be extra

Also it has alternating povs

Charlie was destined to die alone.

As a boy he'd eagerly anticipated the appearance of the first words his soulmate would say to him, emblazoned proudly on his wrist as he comes of age… But none came.

He found himself suffocated in his youth. To be surrounded by, yet excluded from the obsessive nature of those who fixate on their 'one true love'… Even to the extent of excusing less than appealing words in advance…

But he'd built his own happiness.

He was married to the job, his employees his family. He'd roll his eyes at the concept and soldier on, he's got work to do after all…

When the call came through asking for him by name with an offer too good to be true…He should have known better.

…Charlie knew he was going to die alone but not here, not yet!

After settling into Du'met's castle he'd argued with his employees over creative decisions on the episode and the whereabouts of their host, then things had gone sideways… Topeka level sideways.

Erin was missing, Kate and Jamie were worried something terrible had happened to her but he'd dismissed it, too attached to the opportunity of a life time…

…And now Charlie stands on a pressure plate, a scythe rigged to drop… a man tied bellow it… He faced an unwinable choice: Move and the innocent groundskeeper dies. Stay and face the wrath of the masked man towering over him. The man, imposing in his HH Holmes inspired costume, held a blade to Charlie's face, the sharpened edge a hair's width from his nose.

The metal bars between them did little to calm him. Leaning back as far as he can from the small opening in the dividing wall as the groundskeeper pleaded, Charlie didn't know if he was nobel enough to keep his feet planted solidly on the pressure plate to save a complete stranger or if he was simply too terrified to move.

Jamie had retreated from his side and his eyes were glued to… Du'met? It had to be…

The masked man's eyes bore into him. Unreadable. The screams of the other, loud classical music and his own fear built up overwhelming him. Any words he might have said getting caught in his throat. Tears prick the edge of his eyes but he dare not move, "Please…" he finally managed in a small shaky voice before whatever else he intended to stammer out died on his tongue. God he was stupid, the groundskeeper's cries hadn't been heeded, what did he think he was going to accomplish-!?

-Du'met's other hand shot through the grate taking hold of Charlie's wrist, roughly tugging him towards him. Charlie instinctively grabbed the metal bars to steady himself and prevent movement off the plate. Ever mindful of the blade, now held a little further from him. He stifled a cry as his wrist was twisted painfully at odd angles, as if to inspect the words that never appeared. Charlie was going to die alone and even his killer would know that nobody loved him. Great. Three decades of denying that hurt and he felt humiliated, tears welling and cheeks burning, he was too on edge to stand here being judged over this… It was such an idiotic thing to waste his tears on-

Charlie stumbled back as his hand was released. The lights cut off. His pulse rung in his ears. The groundskeeper's blood curdling screams abruptly silenced.

"Take my hand." He'd forgotten about Jamie, he blindly reached for her, at least she hadn't fully abandoned him. They carefully shuffled towards the far wall until they found the lights but… They were alone? The groundskeeper and his assailant had vanished, leaving only a trail of blood… Charlie protectively held his wrist, his skin burning where the gloved hand had touched and panic was beginning to take root as Jamie lead him back to the lobby.

Predictably they were trapped. The front entrance barred and attempts to reach the others futile… With every new discovery his fear reaches new heights. He was certain that if he came into contact with that man again his heart would simply give out, depriving his host the satisfaction of taking his life.

It was a meaningless consolation when he found himself falling down a trap door…

***

There was a time when the single word represented hope…

That some angle would step into his life and make sense of it all, who would demonstrate kindness and care for him from the first word. It was an alien concept for him but that naive fairytale had died a long time ago.

The revelation that his person was short tempered, crass and merely said the word for fear of him was inconvenient and the sensation unbearable. The single word scrawled across his wrist burnt as if carved by hot knives. Granthem would be tempted to cut the damn thing out of his skin were it possible, he'd settle for inflicting this fire apon Charlie Lonnit… Even in the privacy of his own mind the name felt different. Right. His 'soulmate' was lost in the basement, it would be a simple thing to guide him into the furnace and be done with it…

He traced over the word etched into his wrist, eyes glued to the younger man who wandered aimlessly across his monitor.

"…Please…"

He was accustomed to hearing his victims beg but the single word scarred his psyche as surely as it had his flesh.

"Please."

He wanted to hear it again, wanted Charlie on his knees begging for his life, knowing this was fate.

"Please!"

Granthem's mind flooded with all the ways he'd draw the word from him like it was the only one he knew…

But no, he took a deep breath, He couldn't allow this matter to cloud his judgement, he'd already ruined the first trial, the burning sensation a distraction… The mild pity that crept in made him more certain of his decision as he made his way to the furnace. Their brief union would soon be concluded.

He couldn't afford another mistake…

***

Charlie was lost in the darkness… Steps echoing. Hand burning. His breath uneven and body sore from the fall… He felt out of his mind, jumping at every little sound… Eyes on every shadow…

He finds things, things he's not supposed to see… Learns things he was never supposed to know… This man… This monster, had been killing for decades and he felt drawn as he always was, to the truth, to the chill that runs down his spine… That people can be like this… His adult life and career ambitions driven by this… Feeling the knife's edge, starring into the abyss? What was he supposed to feel? A hundred cases, a hundred answers… He clutches his wrist as it burns, what the hell is happening to him!?

Dead end after dead end… His shoes clank on the metal grate running through the centre of the empty room with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and nothing to light them.

Foot steps echo on the basement floor…

The door shuts as Charlie turns, as he rushes towards it, trying to prevent himself being locked. Overwhelming terror mixes with a desperate need to survive as Du'met moves into view of the small slot in the door. Not again! He won't let it be like last time. Although his heart races a million miles a minute he's determined. This time he grabs the other man's hand. Holding on for dear life as he pulls as hard as he can in the desperate attempt to force the Du'met to open the door!

But he's having none of it. Charlie's face slams into the door as the stronger man jerks his arm back. Hitting the ground with a thud… Head spinning as he sits up… The slot closes… He fixes his glasses, searching for a way out… there must be… Something grabs his attention as he attempts to lift the grate.

There at the far end of the room, rising from the floor… A mannequin with a lighter?

Charlie pulls at the grate. His heart skips a beat as it budges, stops as the room bursts into flames. He can't breathe, can't stay calm as he tries to keep his head, throwing his all into this one chance to be wrong, to have a future. To deny fate.

He refuses to die alone.

***

He remains tense. The problem was dealt with, Charlie was burnt away to nothing and yet the pain still lingered. Had he been mistaken? Would the cursed mark forever burn like the 'love' he tossed to the flames? He tries to ignore it, Charlie Lonnit was nothing to him and he refuses to regret his actions…

Granthem gathered his guest's belongings, two were dead soon the others would follow. He needed to clear his head, disposing of the Lonnit crew's personal effects should serve as a suitable distraction…

He activated the crusher while these thoughts clouded his mind. This was unlike him. What did he expect? That his soulmate would fall into his arms and they'd live happily ever after… He'd heard that it often does happen that way but he wasn't so naive to think that they'd be anything but miserable but as each item fell he dwell in all the wrong places. He saw something in that man… A will to survive that wasn't entirely uncommon but it felt… Different. The way the man, pathetic during the first trial, had returned his earlier gesture… The dull pain in his shoulder vastly overshadowed by the fire lit by a single word to fall from the mouth of someone he should have been happy with… It was like his mother said. Any person doomed to be his was better off dying alone-

A sudden scream tears him from his introspection. He deactivates the grinder before he has a chance to process. Charlie! He's still alive? How!? The fire in his skin flared up as he peers over the edge… "Please! Please… You fucking bastard!" Charlie pleads between insults and pained sobs. This is explains it. His hand hovers over the button, he has a second chance at this. Kill him and be done with it… His hand remains a solidly an inch above the button. The begging continues, he grabs the control panel with his other hand, breathing slowly in an attempt to calm the fury building inside, at Charlie for insulting and defying him, at himself for allowing the man to do so, at the way his hand wouldn't budge. Is it possible that he was incapable of killing him?

He stepped back from the panel. Charlie would die in his own time, the job of disposal could wait… He turned to leave but the man's voice was intoxicating, he found himself climbing down to Charlie, to get a closer look. One of Charlie's feet was lodged firmly into the machine, he'll surely die if left unattended…

He stood there just out of reach. Watching. Charlie had become incoherent between pain and fear. Almost subconsciouslay Du'met thought about the syringe he keeps on his person, how it could be used to put Charlie under so he could be moved… He got closer assessing what he'd need to remove the younger man, he felt compelled…

Amputation. He'd need a tourniquet. Charlie's screams picked up with renewed intensity as Granthem touched him. The lower part of the leg was a loss. He was sure the Brit would pass out from his rapid breathing. The man's belt would be suitable. Granthem lent over Charlie, taken by surprise as the man's arms encircle him, clinging to him like a half drowned rat. He tries not to focus on the nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he undoes the belt… His collar wet with tears, the trembling mess beneath him too far gone to fear him any longer...

Charlie whimpers as he pulls away, binding the belt tightly to the damaged limb. Unsure of what came over him, he leans back in planting a soft kiss on Charlie's forehead as he injects the younger man. He couldn't kill him, but he could watch as those beautiful blue eyes grew heavier, how they dulled as they try to make sense of what was happening and eventually Charlie's body went limp. He held the still form of his soon to be lover, reluctant to leave… But the limb still needed attention. Gently laying him as flat as he could, Granthem took in the sight, taking hold of the affected limb.

Dishevelled, bloody… Beautiful.

He smiles as bones break in his grasp, a sickening crack and so much blood…

***

Charlie squinted against the blinding light. A distant steady beeping sound he couldn't place… His mind was hazy and he felt as though he was being pushed into the ground… Was he even in the ground? A bed? A table…? A shadow fell over him as something passed, metal on metal echos somewhere near his feet… Glasses? Charlie thought reaching for where they aught to be, except-

He couldn't?

He tried again slowly moving his numb limbs but was met with resistance followed by a soft clinking sound. The restraints irritated his wrist, even in this state he couldn't escape the feeling… He tried to make out the shape moving around him, a man? Who is that? He tries to speak but only got out soft mumbling sounds… The man stood over him. What is that beeping? Cool hands soothe his nerves, gently caressing his face, Charlie pressed against them, breathing a sigh of relief… Blinking slowly he focuses as hard as he could through bleary eyes, unable to think of a single person who would display this level of gentleness outside of his mother but she was very far away… He thinks the man has brown eyes but he couldn't be sure as a fresh wave of exhaustion washes over him, he just needed to rest his eyes… Just for a little while… The beeping grew harder to make out as he sunk into warm darkness…

***

Granthem Du'met stalked the halls with confidence in his stride. With Charlie stable and the others dying one by one, everything is right in the world. Better than he thought they could be. He is certain he saw love in Charlie's eyes after he'd finished operating, even if it would take the man time to understand it…

He watched as the remaining crew danced to his tune, oblivious to the good news, Kate Wilder sat mourning for people who were dead and some who weren't and Mark Nestor gave a commendable performance… All the while they remain unsuspecting… He would correct his counter once they were gone… He would let the new guests settle in and soon, very soon, he'd have the happiness denied him for far too long.

He enjoyed one last look of terror as he pulled the trigger. Tying off the lose ends and making certain no can interfere with his happiness…

***

Charlie came to in a dark room... A single dim lamp the only source of light, casting strange shadows… It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone, Du'met stood in the corner like one of his damned mannequins, eyes never leaving him. Charlie shuddered at the unnatural way the light play across his mask, lighting up his dark eyes…

The man strides over, closing the distance. He stops by Charlie's bedside, smoothing his hair with his bare hands. It felt somehow perverse as his warm skin gently skim over his own. Charlie hadn't believed his hoast capable of such an intimate gesture…

Charlie struggled to prop himself up as the tall man withdrew, leaving him alone in the strange room. His eyes adjust to the darkness as he puts on his glasses. Shocked to find he is at home in his own bed, in his own room, but no… The wallpaper in his apartment looks nothing like this and yet it is his room with his things… What was Du'met playing at? Did he empty out his home just to prove he could?

He frowns as the light is turned on, Du'met returns with a tray, Charlie doesn't even care what's on it. He tenses as the tray is sat on his bedside table, he stares directly into the other man's eyes watching as he assess him, moving to sit on the bed-

Charlie takes them both by surprise as a snatches a knife from the tray and throws his weight towards the other man as hard as he can, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

He steadies his shaking, his body feels wrong, different, as he sits atop his would be killer and the man does nothing… Why won't he do anything!? Charlie tears off the man's mask, knife in hand and the other man calmly looks up at him… Why did he feel like he was in the wrong and not this monster? He held the sharpened blade to the man's throat, unable to process and again unable to move… A thin line of blood trickled from the shallow cut and Charlie was gasping for breath. What's wrong with him!? Why can't he just- He flinches as his hand was taken, the knife uselessly dropped to the floor… He looked down not truly comprehending his missing limb as Du'met's other hand stretched out before him, a single word emblazoned on his wrist in a way that immediately made sense… 'Please' his own word thrown back as if the mere act of presenting it was akin to repeating it…

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Charlie slumped forward having overdone it. This is his soulmate? He couldn't think straight as he was gently scooped back into bed… It must be a lie but… No, he could feel the truth of the matter… He was tucked in as exhaustion crept inside of him, he'd heard once that every thing a person does slowly drives them towards their person…

He thought he was better than that, that his passions had nothing to do with anyone but himself.

He let out an involuntary chuckle at the irony that his love of true crime had driven him into the arms of a serial killer who can't kill him… Of all the ways to prove him wrong, fate had picked the cruellest.

Some part of him accepted these facts as he drifted off… Engulfed by pleasantly warm darkness. Again.

***

Time stretched on as a new normal settled over the castle… Charlie's recovery was of utmost importance, he was moved to a wing inaccessible by outsiders, given anything to make him more comfortable with his situation. Once Granthem was committed to the truth of their connection he became cautious of messing up, at worst he'd have an unwilling prisoner in a stalemate to protect everything he'd built…

He would show him they could be happy. He helped him every step of the way as he learned how to walk on new legs, to see with new eyes… He even gave his friends a proper burial to make things easier. Charlie taught him sign language, his mother had insisted he learn just in case…

He wondered what it was like to have a mother that cared about his happiness…

As Charlie grew more competent he became more comfortable with the arrangement and today he stands unassisted in the lobby, both feeling a lifetime older than when he arrived, he leans against the wall under the counter '0200', looking up at the completed goal before looking to the man across from him. Granthem waits, unmasked and at ease for the man to speak.

"What's next for us?" he asks with his arms folded over his chest, he doesn't wait for an answer as he steps forward. "I don't want to stay here forever," he shakes his head adding, "I love to travel, now that you've reached your goal I'd love to get out there again."

Charlie smiles softly, sensing the other man's worry. "You're basically retired now, don't you want to see the world with me? ...or at least go on holiday for a little while?" he waited for an answer, Granthem had never thought of his life after reaching his goal, never considered that he could simply be happy. He nods, signing "I won't be parted from you, love." as he closes the gap, embracing his person. Charlie rubs his back, continuing. "I don't expect you to give up your hobbies so long as you keep me in the loop, if ever that old itch returns we'll discuss the best way to deal with it, love." He felt as if he was the one with missing limbs as Charlie took his face and kissed him, he'd never felt such peace in all his life and he knew this was how it was supposed to be, Charlie keeps his hands clean while he revels in the excitement and Granthem knows full well that he has it in him to cross that line and that in of itself excites him. Charlie pulls away as his phone rings, one of the many little freedoms he'd been allowed, Du'met watches him as he speaks to his mother on speaker. She knows about them, or at least a more palatable version of them. As far as she knows Charlie lost his leg in a car accident after they eloped and he'd nursed him back to health, maybe one day they'd make the marital part factual… To say say he was in Pam's good books would be an understatement and now he wonders if he'll actually meet her one day, a real loving mother so unlike his own…

He instinctively held Charlie's hand, ready to face whatever comes next so long as they were together.

[oleafia-art]

last year i was bored and decided to make some moxxie and millie fan kids ! they were just supposed to be silly haha fun characters but then i started writing a whole story and adding a bunch of side characters and it got out of hand… but i wont go into it rn bc it definitely needs to be reworked and more completed before i can talk about it haha

but i can tell yall a little about them below the cut if you wanna read it! i will def be drawing more of them soon i love them sm. i will also try to design older versions of the canon main characters too as well as posting about more ocs from the twin’s story

EDIT: i made this entire post before sinsmas but im posting it anyways. obviously there won’t be much of a point to these characters after millie has her kid (if she has it) LOL so not sure how much more ill draw them now but i still love them and wanted to post them anyway

maverick

- maverick aka mav, is the son of moxxie and millie and the twin brother of melody. he is sixteen years old. he lives in the pride ring with his family.

- mav presents himself as a troubled brooding teen, going through a phase where he feels disconnected from his family and is struggling to figure out where he belongs in society and what he wants from his life

- on the outside, mav is a snarky and overly confident teenage boy who likes fighting and playing the guitar. he hesitates to let people in and often defends his feelings with a sharp and often cruel sense of humor, although a lot of the time he doesn’t mean the words that he says

- despite his stereotyoical demeanor, maverick is actually incredibly sharp minded and curious, constantly questioning the world around him and why things are the way that they are. he overthinks things a lot and ends up feeling incredibly troubled. however, because of his cynical outlook on life he believes no one can help him, and doesn’t bother asking the people he loves for help

- maverick has always been skilled in weaponry and combat, something that’s in his genes but was only taught to him for a few years as a child, however his parents attempted to steer his attention away from this interest, as their overprotective nature took over, not wanting their son to feel like he has to become a killer too

- maverick feels as though there’s nothing that makes him special and often feels overlooked when compared to his extremely talented and more extroverted sister. he is pretty athletic but doesn’t have the same ferocity as his mother or sharpshooting techniques of his father. he was taught to play guitar and enjoys making music but definitely is no where near as passionate or talented as his sister

melody

- melody is the daughter of moxxie and millie and the twin sister of maverick. she is sixteen years old. she lives in the pride ring with her family.

- melody takes on a lot of traits from her father. she has a huge interest in musical theater, and wishes to become a famous actress and singer one day

- due to this aspect of her personality, she is rather extroverted and peppy, very talkative and slightly hyperactive like her mother. she has a desperate need for attention and validation, which can make her come across as a bit annoying or intense to those who aren’t used to her

- despite her parent’s jobs as assassins, melody tries to avoid violence at all costs. she finds it disturbing and has no interest in fighting or killing. however, she has violent instincts in her, and when people she loves are threatened she can become suprisingly outraged and violent despite hating her outbursts

- melody has a very feminine dress style and takes great care in her appearance. she thinks of her life as one grand performance and panics if she’s not seen at her idea of “perfect”. this wasn’t something that bothered her as a kid, but as she gets older she’s becoming increasingly aware of her position in society, as a female imp, and just how hard she’ll have to work to make herself “perfect” in order to find even an ounce of success

[fandomtransmandom]

Bill Hader's Favorite Movies of 2023🎥

I still haven’t seen “Poor Things” or “All of Us Strangers,” both of which I hear are great. That said:

“All the Beauty and the Bloodshed” — I think this came out in 2022, but I saw it this year and loved it. It turned me on to her photography, which is phenomenal.

“Anatomy of a Fall” — That couple fighting in the kitchen was so well written, directed, and acted I thought I was going to have a panic attack. And Milo Machado Graner’s performance is beautiful.

“Beau is Afraid” — This felt like the nightmare a nervous guy has before he visits his overbearing mother. One of the boldest American films I’ve seen in years. Kylie Rodgers drinking that paint! Jesus…

“The Boy and the Heron” — A legend! I like how he animates gusts of wind.

“El Conde” — Ed Lachman’s cinematography is gorgeous. And the visual effects are very well done.

“Evil Dead Rise” — I’m a sucker for “The Evil Dead” movies. I’ll never look at a cheese grater the same again.

“Fallen Leaves” — Simple and beautiful storytelling. Their first date is one of my favorite scenes of the year.

“Killers of the Flower Moon” — One of my heroes adapting one of my favorite contemporary authors, I went in with big expectations and was completely knocked out. Scorsese somehow continues to discover new moves in his storytelling. I’ve never seen a love story like this in his movies. And the banality of evil that De Niro portrays I haven’t seen either; it’s usually Biblical evil! It’s very inspiring. And it was nice seeing the light and the land of my home state faithfully captured on film.

“May December” — Unbelievable performances from everyone. Natalie Portman’s recreation of the letter! Stoned Charles Melton on the roof! And Julianne Moore continues to prove she might be the best living actor in the world. I’ve always been a huge Todd Haynes fan, and this is one of his best.

“Showing Up” — Kelly Reichart is a national treasure. Her films have the simplicity/complexity of a great short story. I love the sound in her movies. A campfire in one of her movies sounds different from campfires in most movies (although I don’t think there’s a campfire in this one).

“Talk to Me” — What a great idea for a horror movie! I said, “Oh no” out loud multiple times while watching it alone in my house.

“The Zone of Interest” — I can honestly say I’ve loved every movie Jonathan Glazer has made — all four of them! He’s so confident in his instincts. Like that opening title! The static camera. The sound design. The music! All the withholding. It adds up to an experience I’ve never had watching a movie. And all I do is lay around like a slob watching movies, so that’s really saying something.

Thank you @martymcdie88mph for bringing this to my attention❤️

[boreal-sea]

I'm watching Twin Peaks for the first time.

Pilot episode spoiler free thoughts: I am hooked. The characters are all really interesting and I want to know more and to watch all of them like ants. I want to put them in a jar and shake it up.

Pilot episode - liveblogging, full of spoilers.

----

Lots of machinery ASMR and nature porn. Not sure what the show's about though.

Who is this sad person making sad eyes at the camera.

Hello fisher guy. Oh, a thing. Oh it's early spring, those tulips aren't up yet. Oh that's a whole body.

Lucy's gonna tell everyone. Oh boy he gets to use the siren!

Andy's got a big heart huh. Ope, they know her.

Hi lady (mom?), Laura's not coming down.

That kitchen is red.

Does David Lynch have a foot fetish?

Gross, don't spit dude.

"We're businessy businessmen doing business"

Is this Mr. Palmer? Yup. Also, there's the sheriff. Sarah knows what's up. Glad to see he cares about his kid tho. So often the businessy businessmen don't care about their kids.

Oh, I know this music! Now I know where it's from.

Ow, my ears.

Ah, Bobby. Here you are. You're a greaser huh? Ah, smoking and drinking, it's what Teens Do.

Idk if the acting is good or bad but I do believe Laura's dad's character is genuinely sad.

No really, does David Lynch have a foot fetish?

Bobby I want to hate you but you are very charismatic. Random screaming student. Everyone just seems to instinctively know Laura is dead.

Bobby was driving his third girlfriend home, he wasn't murdering anyone. Hey whoever this guy is, he's actually ensuring Bobby gets his rights, to a degree.

Everyone also seems to have really loved Laura. Like. It's almost creepy how much they all love her.

Oh, it's the music again.

Don't be sad, just get some drugs.

Oh, sad lady owns the mill. Josie Packard. Why is the other woman so mad?

Oh, that doesn't look like a good time, girl. Oh, she escaped.

It's Flattop greaser guy. He was in love with Laura too??

Hello eyepatch lady.

IT'S OUR GUY, RIGHT? The detective??? That's some sleazy music, he's gotta be a detective. He's very cheery.

Dale Cooper, FBI.

Huh. Dale, you're a bit of a snob. Also, you're annoying. Am I supposed to like you?

What is in this psych's ears?? Also, creepy, yuck.

Ew, Dale's going really far up there under that nail. Oh shit, a letter. Dale your face disturbs me.

Hey blonde boy, you don't tell Donna what to do. Heh, Ed's alright though.

Yeah, I'd also break the diary open, it's not like she's gonna write in it again. Hm, "J" is not Bobby. Day 26? Cocaine? Lockbox key? Mysteries abound. Also, chocolate bunnies.

I kinda love this cop who can't stop crying. Andy.

I don't think Bobby killed her. Wait, how was she studying at Bobby's house at 9:30 if her mom said she came home at 9? Lol using a calculator to type messages. "She wouldn't do that to me" hmm, do what? See "J"?

Audrey does what Audrey wants. *snort*. Audrey, you're great. Terrible, but I love you anyway.

Ooh, who said that line about the picnic earlier in the episode???

I guessed there'd be a reflection in her eyes.

Oh - it's flatop kid. He's the biker? But is he THE biker? And just cause he was the person behind the camera doesn't mean he killed or hurt them.

Oh, I've seen/heard "Fire walk with me" online before, didn't know it was from Twin Peaks!

Flattop has the other heart piece...

Seems that whole family is a bit... in need of help.

Ronette, who escaped, was a sex worker or something? In a skeezy magazine. Also a photo of trucker guy?

Ok Leo, your acting is kinda bad.

Oooh, Ed's getting it on with diner lady? Don't blame him. But meeting at the Roadhouse at 9:30? That's when flattop is gonna meet whatshername!.

Oooh she was his sister. That's why sawmill lady was so angry.

"Who's the lady with the log?" "We call her the log lady"

Mayor is senile, apparently. Dale, don't scare them all by saying the killer may be among them and then tell them not to start a witch hunt.

~oooh nighttime scary~

Hi, old man. Oh, Donna's relative of some kind. At least her sister(?) is gonna cover for her. Harriet. The bros are here to grab Donna but she's not there hehe. Blondie is Mike, got it. Heh. Harriet, that wasn't much of a cover. But Dad? Grandpa? I wouldn't have told THOSE losers she was missing, I would've said "She doesn't want to see your sorry asses".

Are you really gonna leave Hank? For Ed? Are you? Love this singer though. Ah, so the other bikers? greasers? don't like Mike and Bobby huh?

Oooh Joe's taking her to "James".

I'd turn off your lights if you're tailing, that's just me.

I do like how like, not-glorified this bar fight is. It's kinda lame actually.

So here's James.... oh, it's flattop. Oooh, so Laura WAS into sketchy stuff. And maybe Bobby killed someone? Aw, James. I don't think you killed her either. I might be super wrong, but hey. And it's the music again. It's fine, you can trauma bond and kiss to the music. Eey, Donna, that's a good plan to hide the necklace actually. If he's innocent.

Oh, I like that Dale already believes James didn't do anything.

Bobby that's a hell of a look on your face.

Aw, Donna's dad is a sweetie.

Bobby, you're so fucking weird. But apparently so is Mike, so whatever. Two peas in a pod. Also I don't like you anymore.

Ooh Mill owner lady and the sheriff are together, and the mill sister is planning some murder perhaps?

Uh, what? Was Laura's mom dreaming? Having a vision? Screaming for an unrelated reason?

(end of episode)

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Lethal Weapon (Donner, 1987)

I hadn’t seen this since I borrowed it on VHS from the public library back in high school, and as I’d watched all the sequels last year when Netflix added them (but neglected to include the original), I’d been itching for a rewatch for quite some time. When the Revue Cinema held a screening as part of a Shane Black Christmas themed series, I jumped on the opportunity. Given the medium I last watched this on, I was certainly taken aback by how good this looked. The Christmas-light-assisted neon colour scheme really pops on the big screen. But there’s also a great sense of visual movement, the fluidity of the camera as it floats and swerves accentuating the energy level of the proceedings. Like many buddy cop movies since, this punctuates the proceedings with comedic episodes and banter, but unlike in a lot of those (including the sequels to this one), there’s a musicality here, a real verve as all the elements come together like a gracefully choreographed dance. The stuff here would eventually turn into cliches, but they feel very alive here.

A good amount of credit goes to Mel Gibson, who plays Riggs as a loose cannon wildman like you get in a lot of these movies, but gives him a genuine sense of instability. Not a lot of action movies offer as much emotional rawness as the scene where he tearfully sticks a gun in his mouth, which goes a long way of convincing you he’s really on the edge. Gibson’s performance here is about as good as it gets when it comes to action movie protagonists, and not to discount his genuine talent and charisma or make light of his offscreen actions, but his casting probably plays even better in hindsight. There’s something damaged, unreformed about Riggs that the darkness in Gibson’s personal life plays interestingly against.

There’s something liberating about the way Riggs is able to reject the rules of engagement in any given scene, the way he uses humour to seize the upper hand in a drug bust, or saves a jumper by acting more suicidally. Or when he ambushes Gary Busey’s Mr. Joshua by sending a police car careening into the house, and emerges from the side of the frame with his gun, almost as if he’s upending the form of the film itself.

And regarding Busey, I associate him with some level of volatility, so it’s interesting to see him play pathologically against type. (His one outburst is blowing away a TV during the climax.) His portrayal of Mr. Joshua as all training and killer instinct brought to mind Jim Zubiena’s role as the assassin in the “Calderone’s Return” episode of Miami Vice, although Busey has more innate charisma to play with than Zubiena. (This gives me strong Miami Vice vibes, says a guy who’s watched nothing but Miami Vice. Apologies, I’ve spent the second half of this year obsessed with this show, so anytime I watch anything adjacent, whether by genre or common cast members, I’m going to bring it up. Don’t worry, I’ve started the last season recently and should be done with the show in a few weeks, so our long national nightmare will soon be over.) I do find it interesting that Riggs and Mr. Joshua share a special forces background, and the fact that it places the two of them on a spectrum, and the more humane one is also the more damaged. This is less politically minded than the second movie, but there’s a hint of critique here about the way America trains men to kill and discards them when they’re no longer useful.

I didn’t realize until just now that Danny Glover was only forty when he made this, but is playing fifty and looks even older. There’s a bit of Max Von Sydow syndrome going on here, but I have to credit Glover’s performance, and particularly his physicality in suggesting a credible level of wear and tear. My screening wasn’t packed by any means, but “I’m too old for this shit” got a lot of laughs.

And I think all that musicality and verve obviously extend to the violence, which is less interested in carefully executed plans than in improvisation and reorienting the rules of engagement. The helicopter sniper surprise. The desert ambush. The chase where Riggs hurtles through crowded traffic to use his knowledge of street level geography against Mr. Joshua. Even the final showdown, which is not the most tightly directed scene on a technical level, but plays as an accumulation of movement. Richard Donner’s direction plays like a predecessor to the intensified continuity that would take over the action genre in the 2000s, less concerned with visual clarity (although there is enough of that here) than in motion and momentum, and in spontaneity and possibility. This might be a canonized classic, but it’s one where it feels like anything could happen.

Anyway, I think Roger Ebert put it best in his review: “In a sense, a movie like "Lethal Weapon" isn't about violence at all. It's about movement and timing, the choreography of bodies and weapons in time and space. In lesser movies, people stand there and shoot at each other and we're bored. In a movie with the energy of this one, we're exhilarated by the sheer freedom of movement; the violence becomes surrealistic and less important than the movie's underlying energy level.”

[ofpathways]

Desmond

Age: 444 Birthday: December 13, 1578 Height: 6' 2" Weight: 202 lbs Hair color: jet black Hair style: down to his ears, straight and loose Eye color: gold with flecks of red Lineage: turned vampire Interests: international trade, corporate enterprise, horses, playing the odds, current events, the state of humanity, politics Likes: wine, travel, languages, correcting grammatical errors, reading newspapers, polaroids, jazz music

Appearance: Desmond carries himself with a sense of self-assurance. He knows his worth, and he wears his success in the form of expensive clothing and refined accessories. He has a modest taste and usually wears classic black suits. He's very rarely found in casual attire. His eyes are generally gold, but they shift to more of an amber or even red depending on how much blood he's consumed.

Abilities: Supernatural strength, supernatural speed, enhanced endurance, no need to sleep, compulsion, killer business instincts, and exceptional intellect.

Susceptibilities: The sun, holy water, contaminated blood, blood loss, fire, wooden stakes.

Notes: Desmond and Marcus share a sire. Desmond also holds a deal with Celine in which he is her leading contributor of immortality (much to his amusement) in exchange for political clout with her information on supernatural power shifting and the 'underworld' politics.

Summary: Desmond is the illegitimate son of a clergyman from the 1500s. His father sent him off to be a missionary after Desmond discovered the truth of his birth. While abroad, a vampire bat (his sire holds the ability to shapeshift which is relatively rare) bit him and marked him with a disease/curse of vampirism. He’s spent history among humans despite having lost faith in humanity after his fathers great sin and hypocrisy. Desmond became acquainted with the vampire world, but he was not impressed and found it too stiff. As such, he plays games with human politics. He works to make deals with people hoping to rise to power, so he campaigns for their success and gets his own hands dirty to ensure it. This way, he shapes history into his own ideals.

History: Desmond was born to his father (a missionary) and his mother (a local woman to one of the villages where Desmond's father preached). Desmond's father had a wife in England, but he did not bring her with him as this was only meant to be a temporary establishment. His father was a very successful clergyman, and his name spread far and wide throughout the political circles of England.

Desmond has two other siblings. A younger sister and an older brother (both by his father and his father's legitimate wife). However, he has no real ties to them. He was enrolled in boarding school as a child and rarely returned home until his first mission with his father. He was turned as a young adult and had spent decades as something of a 'wanderer.'

Life was aimless, and he was very much on his own to parse through the difficulties of vampirism. He had to learn his own limitations and abilities through near literal trial by fire. Nearly 80 years spent on his own and learning to survive the curse. One day, a stranger offered a recognizably malicious smile and extended a hand. He called himself Marcus and offered to teach Desmond ways to survive.

For over a century, Desmond and Marcus were side by side. They were very different, but that worked in their favor. Desmond was something of an idealist, and Marcus grounded him. They were somewhat close, even if they ended up at odds from time to time. Until a ripcord pulled them apart. For which, Desmond refuses to forgive Marcus.

Around the time the Industrial Revolution began in Europe, Desmond decided to return to Europe and follow the path of change. He started a small logistics company focused on shipping overseas, given his fixation on the invention of the steam engine. Marcus followed on the cutting edge of technology, and it eventually led him to the United States.

As time progressed, his company grew and grew. At face value, it remained productive and fruitful. Desmond was a well-off individual, and time paved way for wealth. Years passed, and vampire politics became something of a roadblock. Leaders of vampire clans found Desmond's individualism a threat of exposing their secretive nature (Desmond was never one for life in the shadows). Desmond, for a time, conceded to their requests. However, that was a short-lived period due to clashing with some of vampire leadership. The sense of restraint was suffocating.

At the beginning of the 1900s, he started dealing in rare antiquities and expanding his network within the underground. While his preference is to follow humanity and their shifts in power, he does keep firm tabs on the supernatural world to ensure his own security.

In the modern world, he serves as the executive for his company. He only hires human employees, and he provides them with excellent compensation. Currently, he claims his inability to enter sunlight is associated with the disease Xeroderma pigmentosum, but Desmond emphasizes (much to the vampire community's despair) that this makes him a modern vampire. Desmond has considered going on record as a real vampire but has not chosen to do so thus far as per Marcus's (who continues to periodically visit Desmond despite his unwelcome) request.

[rockislandadultreads]

Libby Spotlight: Pride Reads

Somebody to Love by Matt Richards & Mark Langthorne

For the first time, the final years of one of the world's most captivating rock showman are laid bare. Including interviews from Freddie Mercury's closest friends in the last years of his life, along with personal photographs, Somebody to Love is an authoritative biography of the great man.

Here are previously unknown and startling facts about the singer and his life, moving detail on his lifelong search for love and personal fulfilment, and of course his tragic contraction of a then killer disease in the mid-1980s.

Woven throughout Freddie's life is the shocking story of how the HIV virus came to hold the world in its grip, was cruelly labelled 'The Gay Plague' and the unwitting few who indirectly infected thousands of men, women and children - Freddie Mercury himself being one of the most famous.

The death of this vibrant and spectacularly talented rock star, shook the world of medicine as well as the world of music. Somebody to Love finally puts the record straight and pays detailed tribute to the man himself.

How Do I Un-Remember This? by Danny Pellegrino

Growing up in small-town Ohio isn't easy, particularly when you're a closeted gay kid surrounded by... no one openly gay. Luckily, Danny Pellegrino grew up in the 90s, coming of age when the internet opened up a whole new world for a curious kid itching for life outside of Midwest suburbia. Danny escaped the pains of growing up by submerging himself in a sea of pop culture—bingeing The Nanny until he had the confidence of Fran Fine, belting out Brandy songs until his heartaches were healed, or watching every semi-clothed Ryan Phillippe scene known to man.

Now, as a successful podcaster interviewing the same iconic personalities that he idolized as a kid, Danny's life has only become more entertaining and delightfully chaotic.

Heartfelt and hilarious, How Do I Un-Remember This? is a collection of real-life stories exploring Danny's journey from feeling like the only gay kid in Ohio to becoming a big-time podcaster in Los Angeles, and all the amusing moments life threw at him in between. With remarkable honesty and his trademark humor, Danny discusses his struggles alongside his love for all things pop culture in a way that is equally emotional and uplifting. And of course, it's all sprinkled with a little 90s nostalgia and a whole lot of comedy.

Becoming Nicole by Amy Ellis Nutt

When Wayne and Kelly Maines adopted identical twin boys, they thought their lives were complete. But it wasn’t long before they noticed a marked difference between Jonas and his brother, Wyatt. Jonas preferred sports and trucks and many of the things little boys were “supposed” to like; but Wyatt liked princess dolls and dress-up and playing Little Mermaid. By the time the twins were toddlers, confusion over Wyatt’s insistence that he was female began to tear the family apart. In the years that followed, the Maineses came to question their long-held views on gender and identity, to accept and embrace Wyatt’s transition to Nicole, and to undergo an emotionally wrenching transformation of their own that would change all their lives forever.

Becoming Nicole chronicles a journey that could have destroyed a family but instead brought it closer together. It’s the story of a mother whose instincts told her that her child needed love and acceptance, not ostracism and disapproval; of a Republican, Air Force veteran father who overcame his deepest fears to become a vocal advocate for trans rights; of a loving brother who bravely stuck up for his twin sister; and of a town forced to confront its prejudices, a school compelled to rewrite its rules, and a courageous community of transgender activists determined to make their voices heard. Ultimately, Becoming Nicole is the story of an extraordinary girl who fought for the right to be herself.

Not My Father’s Son by Alan Cumming

In his unique and engaging voice, the acclaimed actor of stage and screen shares the emotional story of his complicated relationship with his father and the deeply buried family secrets that shaped his life and career.

A beloved star of stage, television, and film—"one of the most fun people in show business" (Time magazine)—Alan Cumming is a successful artist whose diversity and fearlessness is unparalleled. His success masks a painful childhood growing up under the heavy rule of an emotionally and physically abusive father—a relationship that tormented him long into adulthood.

When television producers in the UK approached him to appear on a popular celebrity genealogy show in 2010, Alan enthusiastically agreed. He hoped the show would solve a family mystery involving his maternal grandfather, a celebrated WWII hero who disappeared in the Far East. But as the truth of his family ancestors revealed itself, Alan learned far more than he bargained for about himself, his past, and his own father.

With ribald humor, wit, and incredible insight, Alan seamlessly moves back and forth in time, integrating stories from his childhood in Scotland and his experiences today as a film, television, and theater star. At times suspenseful, deeply moving, and wickedly funny, Not My Father's Son will make readers laugh even as it breaks their hearts.

[maximuswolf]

My Top 10 Dark Ambient releases of 2024 (with some hidden gems)

My Top 10 Dark Ambient releases of 2024 (with some hidden gems) 10 ) Richie Culver - Hostile EnvironmentsI’m a big sucker for spoken word mixed with ambient, so I really enjoyed this one.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZAdA-Tawhc9) Capricorni Pneumatici - Witchcraft (1989)It’s an old release that just got reissued, but I never heard of this project. Esoteric and eerie, reminds of Aghast at times.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYSZd2mta5E8) Apocryphos - AtrementiaOne of my favorite artist from the Cryo Chamber roster, and his new album has a great old-school production.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWnIotfWoBA7) Darkspace - -IIIf you dig spacey and a bit industrial-ish sound, you are in for a treat with this single track album from Darkspace.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fACrQirZFw6) Lustmord - Much Unseen Is Also HereWhat can I say? Brian Williams, as a pioneer of the genre still hasn’t faded.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x09zGd9fYa05) Creation VI - ConfluenceTim Six is one of my favorites, everything he releases is interesting, especially under the Creation VI moniker. The bass tone is just fucking killer!https://youtube.com/watch?v=FyroKiprf2o4) KOKUM - Obscured Instinct and the pale FolkloreOne more great project from Hungary with great ritualistic and tribal vibes.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93qbNj2v65I3) Forest of Bones - Hymns of the ForsakenAnother underground gem, practically zero listeners, but I find it really good. Dark, droning, deep, everything I want from this genre.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58J2jxp3FSc2) Old Crypt - Abandoned MonasteryThis project came out of nowhere and already put out an array of versatile releases, the debut is still the best yet.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIqpABfnKxE1) Dronny Darko - Godless LandHonestly, this man is just the king of dystopian sounds. Despite the number of his releases, he keeps an amazing quality and this one is no exception.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d53rXbyu3JEWhat's YOUR list? Submitted December 04, 2024 at 12:59AM by handheldhomemadeporn https://ift.tt/qX8BpNT via /r/Music

[laresearchette]

Saturday, June 29, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

GOING IN VACATION, SEE IN IN A WEEK...

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE KILLER INSIDE: THE RUTH FINLEY STORY (Lifetime Network Canada) 8:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? FALLING LIKE SNOWFLAKES (Premiering on July 06 on W Network on 8:00pm)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA LEGO FRIENDS THE NEXT CHAPTER (Season 2) MIDSOMMAR NWSL: KANSAS CITY CURRENT V HOUSTON DASH RAM

CRAVE TV THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA MOLANG (Season 1) STEVIE VAN ZANDT: DISCIPLE

DISNEY + STAR ABBOTT ELEMENTARY (Season 3)

NETFLIX CANADA KISS THE GIRLS RISING IMPACT (JP)

ZOMBIES: THE RE-ANIMATED SERIES (Disney Channel Canada) 10:00am: Every day is a surprise at Seabrook High, whether you're a cheerleader, a zombie, a werewolf or even a vampire. "ZOMBIES: The Re-Animated Series" invites viewers into the daily lives of Zed, Addison, Eliza, Willa and the entire Seabrook crew. Alien tech allows the gang to transport to an alternate timeline and re-do their senior year, leading to more musical fun as Seabrook becomes the destination for all kinds of mythical monsters.

NHL HOCKEY (SN/SN1) 11:30am: NHL Draft - Rounds 2 - 7

US SENIOR OPEN (TSN3) 12:00pm: Third Round - Part I (TSN3) 3:00pm: Third Round - Part II

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 2:30pm: Yankees vs. Jays (SN Now) 7:00pm: Dodgers vs. Giants (SN) 7:00pm: Rangers vs. Orioles (SN) 10:00pm: Twins vs. Mariners

CFL FOOTBALL (TSN3/TSN5) 7:00pm: Blue Bombers vs. Stamps

FOR KING AND COUNTRY: NEWFOUNDLAND'S SACRIFICE (CTV) 7:00pm

COPA AMERICA 2024 (TSN/TSN4) 7:45pm: Canada vs. Chile

ABSOLUTELY CANADIAN (CBC) 8:00pm: Irish, English, Scottish and French lumberjacks of the 19th century collaborate to survive the harsh conditions of Canadian logging camps, establishing a folk music tradition unlike any other.

TRUE JUSTICE: FAMILY TIES (CTV Life) 8:00pm: A law school student and her friends set out to prove her brother is innocent of murder, but the only way to clear his name is to find the real killer.

LOVE OFF THE PAGE (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: Caroline is a hopeless romantic and loves novels. When she buys a book at a mysterious bookstore, she starts dreaming about love.

THREATS FROM THE INSIDE (Super Channel Fuse) 8:00pm: Brad Collins' love for his wife, Amy, becomes an all-encompassing obsession, and he grows more and more controlling of her with each passing year. When Brad finds out that Amy had an affair with a colleague, a huge fight ensues and tragedy results.

MADAME WEB (Crave) 9:00pm: Cassandra Webb is a New York City paramedic who starts to show signs of clairvoyance. Forced to confront revelations about her past, she must protect three young women from a mysterious adversary who wants them dead.

SUNRISE (Starz Canada) 9:00pm: When a former cop returns to the scene of a horrific crime, residents discover the dark visitor is really a vampire who feeds on blood and fear. Befriended by a kind family, the instinctive killer soon faces a choice of revenge or redemption.

NWSL SOCCER (TSN5) 10:00pm: Utah Royals vs. Portland Thorns

MLS SOCCER (TSN/TSN3) 10:30pm: Vancouver vs. St. Louis

TITANE (Crave) 11:00pm: A woman who has a metal plate in her head embarks on a bizarre journey.

GAME NIGHT (CTV) 12:35am: A couple's weekly game night gets kicked up a notch when their friends agree to participate in a murder mystery party. They soon find themselves in over their heads as each twist leads to another unexpected turn over the course of one chaotic night.

UPCOMING PREMIERES:

HIGH SPEED CHASE, June 30, Investigation Discovery 8:00pm THE GREAT FOOD TRUCK RACE June 30, Food Network Canada 9:00pm 90 DAY FIANCÉ: THE OTHER WAY July 1, TLC Canada 8:00pm MASTERCHEF UK July 1, CTV Life 10:00pm HOLMES FAMILY RESCUE July 2, CTV Life 8:00pm THE AMAZING RACE CANADA July 2, CTV 9:00pm STYLED July 2, HGTV Canada 10:00pm FEAR THY NEIGHBOR, July 2, Investigation Discovery 10:00pm OUTRAGEOUS LOVE WITH NENE LEAKES, July 4, Slice 9:00pm GODZILLA X KONG: THE NEW EMPIRE July 5, Crave 9:00pm RUMBLE THROUGH THE DARK July 5, Crave 11:00pm

[ntriani]

OQM Playlist: Life during quarantine #17

With a new life during quarantine playlist Nick Triani contemplates feeling out of touch with modern pop music and what might motivate reconnection.

Out of place and out of time During 2020, I’ve had time to reflect about myself and what I do. This year working professionally with new music has also signified a massive change in how I relate to music itself. Of course, a lot of that feeling has to do with the surreal nature of the times, but also, for the first time I don’t feel much empathy with the current bunch of mainstream musicians. And by mainstream I mean the top 20, the hit makers, this tik-tok generation of pop stars.

At 54 years of age I should just be satisfied that I’ve tried to hang in so long, tried to understand the new productions, new styles, the spotify tailored hit making process. Music from the label I run and and a lot of the music I work with has certainly been influenced or impacted by the maneuvers of the mainstream industry over the last almost ten years.

The biggest of course being the gradual move from a physical model to a streaming model, the way the public interacts with their music nowadays. That’s why during this pandemic Bandcamp‘s resistance for the artist feels so morally superior, and perhaps reflective of where our energies should be focused right now. But I digress.

The standard is in the standard There is a realisation of my own maturing of course. I have far more interest in jazz than pop nowadays – and I mean that vast catalog of old jazz (not the new retro variety.) Still, I remain in thrall to the fabric of underground music that still excites me more than ever.  The other side of the picture, if you like, and what feels to me like the place where most of the interesting stuff happens. The arty side of music without getting too pompous about it.

I can’t relate to any modern pop music – it’s the sound of anemic production to me. And ultimately that’s OK – I’m not the target audience and as the critical community looks for any crumb of subversion or excitement, perhaps in these ‘difficult times’ we can let that lie for now. Or should we be asking for more from our popstars? This has nothing to do with the awful authenticity, but all to do with attitude. And yes, secretly I still care about this.

Have we still got it?  Ultimately, we could look back at that premise of what gave pop music its initial spark. Yes, I’m talking about talent. Not some taught talent but a natural instinctive talent that ultimately leads to something different. We should adjust our standards beyond the level of how good the social media campaign was for any given release. A lot of that great music is still out there, a whole subculture of interest lurking deeper down. Look behind the curtain that yielded the need for Taylor Swift to dip her toe into ‘mainstream indie’ and you might be surprised at what you find. Tunes, ideas and innovation. Someone hand Antti Tuisku the new Arca album and let’s really subvert it.

I’m still willing to back the artists where my jaw drops in wonder and I’m left with the feeling of ‘how I wish I could do that.’ That great lyric, that killer vocal, making the difference and bringing the emotion. As popular music fades into nostalgia for a better time, when supposed ‘real’ popstars and personalities walked the earth, perhaps we could just ask for more from our current crop – less of the plucking from behind the supermarket till and more of the alien, out of this world variety. Yes, I’m sure I sound like an old reactionary, but Pop, make me feel somethingagain.

Is my weariness – rather than old age – a reaction to the destructive capitalism that has reduced  pop music to another tier on Jeff Bezos‘s consumerist Valhalla – this has ultimately destroyed the spirit and artfulness of pop music.  Could it be that it’s not the fault of the individual stars or young kids coming up through their insta/tik-tok but the structural mould of capitalism which has sucked the air out of any outlandishness and commodified it.

[billconrad]

Unassailable

    I use the word optimize in every possible place it fits. Optimize that recipe. I have optimized my walking style. Can my driving be optimized? You bet! The word rolls off my tongue even when I am silently typing.

    I never use some words because I do not fully understand their meaning and do not want to sound like an idiot. Argyle? Something to do with socks. Bloodthirsty? Umm, I think that has something to do with motivation. Googleplex? That’s a big number, but I do not know how big. Ribosomes? It’s some silly biological term. Myocardial? A doctor used that once in a health video. Metastatic? I think that was the same doctor.

    That’s all understandable, but there is one word I avoid, like the plague, yet I fully understand the meaning. Unassailable describes a condition that cannot be argued against. If there is a video of a person committing a crime, their guilt is unassailable. Writers often use it in mathematics, law, engineering, and critical discussions.

    Now, hold on. There are some conditions where I know the word legitimately applies. 2+2=4. The math is unassailable. Yes and no. The logic is flawless, but 2+2=4 is not unassailable; it is a correct equation with room for disagreement. Two apples plus two oranges do not equal four planes.

    It seems like this word has many applications, so do I hate it with a passion? Because it is offensive to the reader. It is as if I said, “Hey, I discovered something, and you cannot contradict me, jerk!”

    I can show you why I hate this work with this very sentence. I do not know who will read my words. You could be a serial killer, truck driver, or someone who accidentally clicked on a link. Yet, I have the same goal: for you to be entertained, educated, and enjoy my creation. Yet, there is no guarantee of success. My sentence might even bring resentment, but deep in my heart, I tried my best to present something enjoyable.

    Allow me to make a brief exception with one awful sentence. Jack, and, Jill, went, up, a, hill, to, fetch, a, pale, of, water. Wow, those comas were so annoying. And that sentence? Could I have been any more cliché? Anger is boiling, and words are turning green like the Hulk. Roar!

    Reading the word unassailable feels the same as that awful sentence. Why would I want to insult the people I am trying to entertain? “I am smarter than you!” Nobody likes that attitude. I want my readers to smile, but that word goes against every writing instinct I have. It is like it has a poor attitude reservoir.

    I suppose we all have our little quirks. Grammar mongers dislike improper punctuation and go to great lengths to point out mistakes. Wordsmiths take great joy in using obscure words in everyday sentences. I love the band Rush, which probably makes the people who adore classical music freak out. Oh, well, that’s life, which is an unassailable conclusion.

    You’re the best -Bill

    December 13, 2023

PS, My three hundredth blog!

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[dorefasolsido]

6. BTS-related 1

In celebration of 2023 Festa!

***credits to the original creator***

what's the first bts song you heard?

I think honestly it was Mic Drop back when it came out, but I wasn’t particularly interested at the time, so I just heard it and moved on with my life.

what's the first bts music video you watched?

Again, it was Mic Drop. I remember seeing somewhere how it was a big deal that a K-pop act was collaborating with an American artist (Steve Aoki). So I was like, well I don’t really care about either, but let me see what everyone’s talking about. That was my first proper introduction to BTS aside from all the comments and gifs I was seeing everywhere.

who/what made you start stanning bts?

No one in particular. It just kind of happened last year when my sister and I randomly wanted to show our mum what K-pop is. Neither of us was a K-pop fan, so the only two groups we were aware of were BTS and Blackpink. My sister decided to check out BTS. And the rest is history.

who was your first bias and is now your current bias?

My sister and I decided to choose our biases in the very first performance we watched, even though we knew nothing about the boys and could hardly even tell them apart :D So at the time, I chose Jimin because he had silver hair and I really liked that, but I think Jungkook was more my style. But now that I know more about the boys, I 100% agree with my first instinct to bias Jimin.

you can only listen to one album for the rest of your life. which?

Uhhh, that’s tough. Maybe Map of the Soul: 7? Or Wings? Or maybe I can just choose Proof, so I have everything in one place :P

what's your favourite collab?

Collabs with Steve Aoki always serve. Mic Drop remix, The Truth Untold, what’s there not to like?

what's your favourite bts japanese song?

Tough choice, but I think Don’t Leave Me. That song’s intensity and emotion is on another level, especially when you know what the boys have been going through at that time.

you can only choose one cypher!

Cypher 3: Killer! I heard it for the first time when the rapline performed it at Yet to Come in Busan and that sealed the deal for me. The energy is off the charts!

if your @ is bts related what does it mean?

I don’t think I have any BTS-related usernames, I’m way too new of an Army.

whose birthday is closest to yours?

Jungkook’s is a little over a month after mine.

favourite rap line song?

Hmmmmm probably Outro: Tear.

favourite vocal line song?

Maybe House of Cards, it has that dark vibe I love and everyone’s vocals really shine.

zodiac compatibility with your bias?

Hahahah, actually if I remember right Leos and Libras are pretty compatible. I normally tend to really love Libras too.

what’s your mbti compatibility with your bias?

I’m INTP, my bias is supposedly ESTP (honestly a huge surprise), so I don’t think we’re super compatible. BUT my sister is ESTP, and we’re very different but get along great.

favourite songs in D-2, Agust D, and D-Day?

Agust D from Agust D and probably Burn It from D-2. From D-Day, it’s Amygdala no questions asked, but Snooze is a very very close second.

favourite songs in Hope World and JITB?

Blue Side from Hope World and either Arson or What If from JITB.

favourite songs in mono, RM, and Indigo?

I’m not sure about RM yet, but from mono it’s uhgood, and on Indigo I have three favourite songs which I call the night trilogy since they all have a perfect vibe for evening/night listens: Closer, Change pt.2, and Lonely.

what official merch do you own?

I don’t have much; I only bought Jungkook’s photofolio and JK TinyTan keychain for my sister. Weverse Shop shipping to Europe is super expensive, and I usually end up paying double the price for that alone. So, it’s easier to buy unofficial merch.

ever seen the tannies live?

Nope, but next time they go on a European tour, you bet I’ll be there.

who are tannies to you?

Comfort.

[dangan-kagura]

What a big coincidence. Back in April, I actually wrote a fanfic involving a Chapter 3 rewrite that literally has Ibuki killing Mikan and Sonia, only it's different from how you wrote it.

Spoilers if you haven't read this fanfic of mine. You can read it here if you're interested.

[Basically, Mikan still invites Ibuki to the music venue, but Mikan doesn't know that Ibuki's disease had progressed into the remembering disease Mikan had. Once at the venue, Ibuki's killer instincts appear and attempts to bite Mikan's neck, causing her to drop the rope she was gonna use. Meanwhile, Hiyoko tells Sonia to go to the venue to get the full length mirror, and she does. Sonia arrives at the venue, sees Ibuki trying to kill Mikan, and Ibuki literally bites off Sonia's throat, resulting in a blood spray followed by death by blood loss. Ibuki then uses the same tactics Mikan used originally, using the rope to choke her to death, only Ibuki then takes off Mikan's clothes and gives her a patient outfit, making Hajime think the same thing as before. It's not the most original idea of a rewrite, since it's almost identical to the original game, but I was tempted to write it. I of course chose not to rewrite the entire SDR2 story, just that paticular chapter.]

Regarding your review of ITMLFY, I'm also attempting to write a NDRV3 fanfic with a different death order, but obviously it's different compared to ITMLFY. The protagonist isn't Kaede or even Shuichi, instead, Shuichi gets replaced by an OC of mine. And not to spoil much, but Tsumugi is not the mastermind this time. The fic is still in the makings and I'm trying to find the time and motivation to finish writing it. It might not be the best NDRV3 rewrite, since lots of people have probably done it before, but it just felt so wrong for me to not write it. It's super long since I wanted to stay consistent with how the game was originally narrated, but if you're up for it, you can read it here, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me any destructive criticism.

And I gotta say, your idea of a SDR2 rewrite is really great. I don't think I could've thought of something like those twists you had.

Re-writing Danganronpa 2

+ Review of Danganronpa: I’ll trade my life for yours

Ok so…

Danganronpa 2 is my favourite instalment in the series. It has, in my opinion, the best characters, the best twists, the best trials (debatably) and the best ending. However, I recently found time and read a well-known Danganronpa fan-fic titles “I trade my life for yours” where the protagonist switch of V3 never happened, Shuichi took the fall for Rantaro’s murder, and Kaede became the new protagonist. Now, for those who have not read the fanfic, then do not read the area in between the brackets, since I’m going to talk about some pretty spoiler heavy stuff, but for those who have, then let me tell you what I thought of it.

[If I’m going to be completely honest with myself, I didn’t actually like the fic all that much. I had a few minor problems with it, like how Tenko constantly speaks in the first person like Gonta, Kaito swears way too much and Kokichi gets really thirsty for Kaito, but alongside that, there were many things I did enjoy. Ryoma and Tenko in particular were able to receive the development and ending that they really deserved for one. However, the biggest issue I had with the fic was this. The protagonist switch of Danganronpa V3 was an excellently done plot-point, and honestly, even though I love Kaede a lot, I was honestly kind of proud of what the team did with Shuichi and his character. There are two significant issues with the fic that revolve around this plot-point. Firstly, as I’ve just stated, I love Kaede, but the primary reason for this is her personality and bubbly nature, as well as the affection she reverberates to everyone. The Kaede in ITMLFY is not the Kaede I love. It’s like Kaede and Shuichi swapped bodies right before they died, and honestly, that wasn’t very well performed. The second issue is that I have always had a problem with how the real truth of the case is that Kaede and Shuichi were actually both innocent, and the mastermind, Tsumugi, broke her own rules to the killing game in order to keep it going. This has always pissed me off, like, there is nothing in the franchise that has irritated me like this point. However, that’s why I really don’t like this fic, because as opposed to being a one off situation, Tsumugi does this WAY TOO OFTEN! Characters like Himiko, Kokichi and more are killed off for literally no reason, other than the fact that she needs to keep the game going! What’s the point of a fun killing game if only one person is doing the killing!? Ignoring the other murders of course. Overall, I think the idea of the fic is unique, but for something so well known throughout the fandom of Danganronpa, it’s lacking, in my eyes, some of the greatness that V3 had originally]

If you don’t want my spoilery review of the fic before you read it, then start here.

Anyway, in spite of how I or anyone else feels about the fic, one thing I have always been intrigued by is how different the events of the fic are to the game, despite the characters and plot being the same. Different characters are killed/executed and the motives are used in more unique ways than before. This got me thinking…What would happen in an alternate universe of the second game where this happens? Different characters are killed off? How would it affect the story? How would it affect the characters? So, I brainstormed a little bit and I came up with my own ideas for a re-written Danganronpa 2 story. Some plot points are the same, some are different. But if you’re willing to hear how I picture a re-do of the story of the second game, then look under the cut…

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