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melon-kiss · 4 years ago

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Cold Tea, Pt. 1

I’m not native English, which seems kind of obvious if you read my posts. I’d like you to keep that in mind. I hope your eyes won’t start bleeding at the end. Or in the middle. Or at any point of reading this fic.

Enjoy! or... whatever.

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“Hello, Sherlock.”

She finally answered the call, although she tapped the green button with a heavy heart. She put a lot of effort in trying not to sound sad.

“Is this urgent? Because I’m not having a good day.” Her voice sounded gloomy anyway.

When she woke up this morning, she felt a certain heaviness in everything she was doing. The lab seemed strange, she was working like a robot. She might not have a memory palace, but her body definitely had a muscle memory and was able to work with her brain detached.

“Molly, I just want you to do something very easy for me and not ask why”, Sherlock said fast as usual.

No “hello”, no “how are you doing”. Molly was used to his obnoxious behaviour but that day it only worsened her already bad mood. She wasn’t willing to deal with his craziness and arrogance. Not after all the tears she cried once she got back home from work. Not after realising it was another pathetic day of her lonely life. Another day of loving a person that could not care less about her.

You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.

What a bunch of lies. She was useful to him in the best case scenario. She could show him bodies that should not be shown or let him use the lab equipment. She was the necessary leverage in his battle with Moriarty, but this was the only reason he wanted to spend an entire day with her - to thank her. On the rest of the days he was just manipulative as always. She didn’t matter to him in any sort of personal meaning of this word.

Usually, she would become his minion one more time, but that day she wasn’t going to play along.

“Oh, God, is this one of your stupid games?”

“It’s not a... game, I need you to help me”. His voice suddenly softened a bit, leading Molly to confusion.

“Well, I’m not at the lab-“

“It’s not about that”, he interrupted in a strangely nervous tone.

The nervousness got to her as well. The tea she intended to drink was starting to get cold and she resumed the making process to keep her hands busy. She felt it must have been something unusual, even for Sherlock Holmes.

“Well... quickly, then”, she replied, half-consciously cleaning up the kitchen counter.

But he remained silent for another couple of seconds. She started losing her patience.

“Sherlock!”, she rushed him. “What is it? What do you want?”

He finally spoke up.

“Molly, please, without asking why, just say these words.”

She thought that maybe this time it wouldn’t be that bad of a game. Maybe he just wanted to solve a funny puzzle and needed to hear it from someone else’s lips?

“What words?”, she asked with a little of a smile on her face.

“I love you.”

The bad mood, which was almost gone, got back immediately. So, after all, it was his another mockery. Another way to make her feel stupid and small in the face of the great, brilliant Sherlock Holmes. Her body started trembling a bit and she lost interest in the conversation right away. She took back the phone from her ear and look at the screen, her finger ready to tap the red icon.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Molly, please, no, don’t hang up! Do not hang up!”

It was the first time Molly heard Sherlock in such desperate tone. What was it all about? No, never mind that. She stopped caring about his reason for this call. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not like that. Not about that. She was fed up with his ignorance of her presence and feelings. Mocking her was where she drew the line.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why making fun of me?”

“Please, I swear, you just have to listen to me.” He made a short stop. “Molly, this is for a case.” His voice was raised and sounded falsely. “It’s... it’s a sort of experiment.”

Ah, yes. Of course. All the people in the world were “an experiment” for Sherlock. And to think that she was the first one to discover the human in him... She was so stupid. So blind.

But even then, even when she felt so betrayed, it didn’t change her feelings.

“I’m not an experiment... Sherlock”, she replied, her voice lowered and eyes got glossy.

“No, I know you’re not an experiment, you’re my friend. We’re friends”, his response was a little bit more silent and softer again. It was the first time he openly admitted that. But nothing beyond that. “But... please. Just say those words for me.”

“Please, don’t do this”, she whispered.

Why would he do that? He’s changed a bit lately. Molly sensed a touch of John Watson in this metamorphosis of his, so... why would he do that? Did he not consult this with John? Did dr Watson approved this? How could he do this to her, knowing all he knew?

“Just.. just... don’t do it.”

Couldn’t he choose someone else? Many people, especially his dedicated fans, could say those words sincerely, if that’s what it all was about. Why did he choose her? Molly had many thoughts flooding her head with contrary opinions but she mostly felt betrayed by Sherlock. More than ever.

“It’s very important. I can’t say why... but I promise you it is.”

The person he thought didn’t matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most.

“I can’t, I can’t say that. I can’t say that... to you.”

Her heart started pumping blood a lot faster and heavier than before. She didn’t understand the sick position she was in, she didn’t understand Sherlock’s agenda and didn’t want to have this conversation at all. Yet, she didn’t hang up like he asked. She knew that humiliation was waiting for her. She initiated it with her last sentence.

“Of course you can, why can’t you?”

She almost felt his nervous smile on the other side of the call.

“You know why”. Her voice hardened with anger.

Why was he playing stupid now? After all those years of living in the need of being the smartest person in the room, he suddenly claims he doesn’t know? He didn’t notice? Bullshit.

“No, I don’t know why”, he replied in a desperate, almost mad tone.

She took a short breath and rubbed her nose, getting more and more anxious.

“Of course you know”, she said with a bitter smile.

Because... how could he not? It was kind of obvious he figured it out a long time ago, during a Christmas drinks with the rest of his friends. He spotted his own present in her bag and started angrily deducing that she was going to meet a “serious boyfriend” that night. And the surprise on his face when he read the tag... Not many people could surprise Sherlock, yet she managed to do this a couple of times. But that Christmas she paid for this astonishment with her own embarrassment. He said sorry, which was unusual for him, but... he must have deduced that back then. And see it in every move she made when he was around.

He was silent for a couple of seconds.

“Please, just say it.”

It seemed so easy when he talked about it, but her body was rejecting those words. She couldn’t. The words were stuck in her throat.

“I can’t. Not to you.” She started losing her voice.

“Why?”

What was with him and all those weird questions? Was he testing her patience or nerves? What was it all about?

“Because... because it’s true”. Her voice started breaking. She realised the last word was inaudible. “Because it’s true, Sherlock! It’s... always been... true...”

Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t control her voice or breathing. The moment she waited for so many years came unexpectedly and in such horrible way. With Sherlock treating her disrespectfully, like an evidence on a crime scene, like a rat during a vivisection. Experimenting on her heart like a cold surgeon.

There was a dead silence for a couple of seconds on the other side of the call.

When he spoke, his voice was very low and surprisingly warm.

“If it’s true, just say it anyway.”

She laughed shortly, with a bitter face. She sighed, letting a bit of her anxiety go.

“You bastard.”

So he did know. He knew and he thought that this was going to be so easy? If it were, she would have told him a long time ago. Didn’t it occur to him that there must be a reason why it’s so difficult for people to tell someone they love them? No, of course not. Why would it? It’s Sherlock, after all. Emotional context and romantic entanglement are for losers. Losers like her, who would take a bullet for him. Like her who helped him take down the most dangerous criminal there has ever been on the London streets, his archenemy. Who, silently, was always there. Who gave up her bedroom so he could have his space.

“Say it anyway”, he insisted, his voice cold and unpleasant.

It was her turn. Her turn to play a game. To let him taste his own medicine. And... to hear it. At least once.

“You say it”, she demanded with confidence. “Go on. You say it first.”

“What?” He was clearly confused and nervous.

Apparently, he wasn’t that good in games if he wasn’t the game host. In logic games he might have been the best man of Earth, but if there were emotions included... he was lost. Helpless.

“Say it”, she repeated in a cold voice, the same one he used on her couple of seconds ago. “Say it like you mean it.”

For about fifteen seconds he didn’t say a single word. Molly pulled her phone closer to her ear, placed her second hand on the one holding the telephone and closed her eyes with a pain wrinkling her face. She didn’t want to miss a single sound if he was about to speak again.

“I...”, he started hesitatingly. “I love you.”

She felt the pain flooding her chest. It sounded so insincere. She kept imagining that this was real. She was picturing herself in a nice place with him, both of them smiling, his eyes filled with affection. She wanted so badly for those words to be real.

But she couldn’t make a sound.

And then, unexpectedly, he spoke again. Softly, silently.

“I love you.”

The pain couldn’t let go of her. She was rubbing her hand and pressing the phone against her face, trying to imagine the texture of the skin on his palms, the softness of his arms, the warmth of his body. His voice was still ringing in her head, not giving her any sort of relief.

“Molly?”

She took the phone from her ear and brought it closer to her lips. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel her entire body pulsing with it.

“Molly, please!” He sounded very desperate.

Back to the reality. Sherlock was still waiting for her response. She was rubbing her lower lip with her finger, gaining the courage. Now or never, Molly Hooper. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

All she heard was a sound of a relief sigh. After that, he just unceremoniously hung up.

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlolly #molly hooper #mollock #john watson #the final problem #ily scene #fanfiction #fic

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thedisneydoc · 5 years ago

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Best Coast: Adventureland

I recently became a fan of the Lost Bros Co’s Oh Boy! The Podcast. I’ve been learning a lot of great things about Walt Disney World (WDW) that I have never heard before, and I am loving the recommendations, tips, and bits of knowledge and nostalgia that they share. Since Disneyland (DL) is my “home park,” it’s always fascinating to learn more about how the other park lives. The Lost Bros also play some pretty entertaining “games” on their show that incorporate their opinions and creative ideas. In one of their first episodes, they play something like West Coast vs. East Coast, aka DL vs. WDW, where they compared the same attractions and rides from each park. To them, DL took the cake on the majority of rides, even though the Lost Bros themselves are WDW locals. After my 2 trips to WDW in 2018, I’ve been comparing the parks myself as well. So as a DL native, “let’s get down to business” and find out what the West Coast thinks as well.

I’m going to go land by land and space each post out, because if this were just one whole post, you’d be reading a full book at that point.

Adventureland (TL;DR Disneyland wins!)

Adventureland is my favorite (follow up post on “Lands That I Love” to follow). When you first walk into the park and go up Main Street USA, you first hit “the Hub” (with or without grass to sit on, depending on your park) where the road spikes off into different directions and your journey begins depending on which land you run to first. Well, I always veer to the left and begin my day at Adventureland, so I’m going to start here first.

WDW: The biggest advantage WDW has is space. There’s TONS of it in Florida, unlike in tiny Anaheim, CA. So it’s great that they have more to work with over there. One of the things I do love about WDW’s version is that they have a whole Pirates of the Caribbean dedicated section (Caribbean Plaza) with this AMAZING scavenger hunt quest game that I will cover in a later post. And they have a whole restaurant devoted to the Jungle Cruise and its dad joke puns, which is one of my favorite things ever. That being said, I still think DL is the winner here.

DL: While smaller, it has much more of a jungle adventure vibe with towering, lush tropical plants and trees than WDW, which is much more open and goes with the desert Bazaar feeling instead. I definitely get the feeling that I’m isolated in a mysterious jungle somewhere, and I’m just a sucker for that old-timey, vintage adventurer and tiki aesthetic. That feeling is just missing for me somehow at WDW. Plus we now have one of the best snack spots ever, The Tropical Hideaway! It’s no Jungle Navigation Co. Skipper Canteen, but I can’t complain. Dole Whip is my favorite Disney snack and I’ll admit that I stan that exclusive chile-mango whip real hard. We also have the major advantage of being home to The Indiana Jones Adventure, which I won’t compare with WDW since it doesn’t really have an equivalent ride. But in my opinion, just having Indy alone puts the DL Adventureland wayyyyy in the lead. Now in terms of comparing similar rides and attractions...

The Enchanted Tiki Room: While I have to agree with the Lost Bros Co and say that the inside show is pretty much the same, I have to say that the DL version still surpasses the WDW version because of its pre-show and its new Dole Whip snack service at Tropical Hideaway. At DL the preshow allows you to eat a Dole Whip and sit down while you watch each of the enchanted Polynesian god totems come to life. The totems each share their name and a little backstory about their part in the Polynesian mythology while giving a specific animatronic performance. The fun part, especially for kids, is the scavenger hunt feeling you get when you follow the totems around the preshow area and try to find out which totem is speaking and from where. Plus the detail inside Tropical Hideaway, from magic lamps and carpets to the infamous missing Rosita telling corny Jungle Cruise-worthy jokes, is top notch. In contrast, the WDW world version has you standing in a little amphitheater setting to watch two animatronic birds share their personal story of the Jungle Cruise with you, which is a little more meh for me. And there’s hardly any space for you to sit and enjoy your Dole Whip.

The Jungle Cruise: This one is a little tough. This is one of my favorite rides ever, not only because it serves me tons of that vintage exploration aesthetic vibe I love, but also because I an unashamedly obsessed with the dad joke script. I’ve ridden this thing so many times, I can recite any version of the script and be your Skipper myself. In fact, if I worked at Disney, one of my dream roles is to be a Jungle Cruise Skipper. I love love love the DL version and its classic scenes, like the ambush from the natives and the piranhas. Plus I’m used to seeing our version of Trader Sam and was shocked to see a completely different guy at the WDW one. According to the Imagineering backstory, they actually ARE 2 different Sam’s! They happen to be cousins who each opened up their own trading business on opposite coasts. There’s also almost never a wait at the DL one, averaging at about 10-15 min whenever I walk by (30-40 min is maybe the most I’ve ever seen). The queue is a little cramped and small, but I love waiting in the 2-story building and looking at all the Jungle Cruise memorabilia on the walls and the cute rooms/scenes set up inside it (reminiscent of Swiss Family Robinson Tree House back when it used to be at DL). It also has a bomb Jungle Cruise logo sign on the front. In contrast, the WDW queue is a more open and airy, allowing those huge, life-saving fans on the ceiling to do their work. There is some interactive element in the line, but less so than many of the other, more entertaining queues at Magic Kingdom (MK). I remember something about a hissing tarantula in a cage near the end of the line, but it was broken when I visited. I also loved the witty menu and accident signs on the dock right before you board your boat. But the wait time always seems outrageously longer than it should be for this ride, and somehow FastPasses distribute quicker than I would have expected. On the ride, I also really liked the temple tunnel at WDW that we don’t have at DL. For those who have never been on it, there’s a decent stretch of river that goes inside the ruins of a temple through an enclosed tunnel. It allowed for some cool effects and scenes in the dark, but cuts off the flow of the Skipper’s script. The Skipper literally has to stop talking because the microphone would echo too much. In addition to the ride, they have claim to a very fun and punny restaurant overflowing with Imagineering secrets and Jungle Cruise memorabilia. Not only is the atmosphere and theming on point, but the menu is DELICIOUS at the Skipper Canteen. Finally, they regularly get a Christmas overhaul for the Jingle Cruise, which is fantastic. I’ve never been to the WDW Jingle Cruise, but they did it only once (maybe twice) at DL that I can remember, and I loved the Christmas decorations both inside and outside the ride. The Christmas puns were also a nice change. But overall, in terms of the ride, I have to give it to DL’s Jungle Cruise for the overall immersive experience and aesthetic, but I might just be biased because that’s the one I grew up with. I also think there’s a richer opportunity for jokes at the DL one.

Treehouse: Ok, when I was a kid, DL is the one who used to have the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse and it was one of my favorite things to explore. I was obsessed with playing house and going adventures as a kid, so I loved seeing how someone could build a home in a tropical tree. Then it became the Tarzan treehouse walkthrough. The theming is very cool and the storytelling is great, but as a child afraid of loud noises and jump scares, that stupid jaguar, Sabor, and his snarl scared the shit out of me and has traumatized me good. I still don’t like him and have to scoot quickly around him with my fingers stuffed in my ears. But otherwise, the treehouse is a good little cardio climb. So, again, I am a little biased because of a nostalgia factor, and WDW wins since they now have the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse. But objectively, I can see how that’s really boring to many people without a history like mine, so I will give DL the point for taking advantage of the already existing treehouse structure and turning it into a self-paced story walkthrough based on one of their popular films (kind of like Sleeping Beauty’s Castle).

While Pirates of the Caribbean lives at Adventureland in WDW, I’m going to leave off comparing that one for when I discuss “America Lands” next time.

So that’s part 1 of many many comparisons to come. Again, take my opinions with a grain of salt since I grew up at DL, but you’ll see that there’s a lot at WDW that I love more than DL too. See ya, pal!

PC: the.disney.doc

#adventureland #disneyland #walt disney world #waltdisneyworld #disney parks #disney resort #disney california adventure #disneycaliforniaadventure #magic kingdom #disney life #disney blog #the lost bros #the lost bros co #oh boy the podcast

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birdsofchristmas · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2: Mrs. Barber’s Annual Mennonite Christmas Pageant

At best a Christmas pageant is an inspirational, memorable highlight to any great holiday season. At worse it can be a sappy, uninteresting, pitiable series of off key songs and heartless dance numbers. Now I’m not pretentious when it comes to seeing pageants, but I’ve seen enough in my day to know what I like and what I don’t like.

When it comes to seeing my two nieces and nephew performing in a christmas play however they can do no wrong. This year will be their third performance as an acting ensemble, a now annual tradition of mine that gets better with each performance. Their It’s a Wonderful Life was magnificent, Their Christmas Carol brought me to tears, their Charlie Brown Christmas was nothing short of Tony-worthy. This year’s traditional interpretation of the Nativity Story was already receiving buzz among the local church going community, enough so that they were doing two performances, both of which I had reserved front row seats for.

“Oh well sir, we don’t reserve seats for our Christmas plays”, the pastor of the church had informed me when I phoned him in August inquiring about the performance, “we do have a section for attendees who have mobility issues, but it’s really more of a priority seating area”. “Ah ok, well that should be fine,” I replied, picturing in my mind the red wheelchair stored in my parent’s garage, which I’d used after recovering from surgery 3 years ago.

I imagined myself rolling down the aisle past all the crowded pews, right into the VIP section reserved for differently abled folks and recent retirees, enjoying the grand spectacle with the best possible view one could hope for. But then I imagined myself at the pearly gates having to explain to our good lord my reasoning for feigning being immobile for a good seat at a children’s Christmas play, and decided it might be best to take my chances in terms of seating at the event. Nonetheless I would arrive early, very early.

The night of the dress rehearsal had come. In preparation for the event I booked off 3 days from work to travel out to the Fraser Valley where the plays took place. My aunt and uncle had driven in from Calgary, camping out in their converted camping van, which they let borrow to rally the troops- first to my sister’s house to pick up my youngest niece, then to my younger of two brothers to pick up my other niece and my nephew.

I pulled into the Church parking lot which looked to be the size of 3 CFL football fields, and proudly lead my acting crew through the gleaming glass doors towards the auditorium.

The kids ran down the center aisle stomping and laughing with excitement, then disappearing behind tall blue and pink banners on the stage into the “green room”, which was just the youth pastor’s office repurposed with mirrors and standing closet hangers.

Mrs. Barber rolled her eyes and said “Oh hi Adam, I received the email you sent me with the 3 pages of set notes… thanks for that.” And she should be thankful, I for one was quite proud of my contribution. Just imagine how shabby and unprofessional these plays would be without my astute, well placed insights on the fine art of stage acting. I was from the city after all, I should know, I’ve been to the fringe festival at least 3 times.

One niece and my nephew had the part of Mary and Joseph, obviously. My other neice was playing a shepherd, a role I insisted she be cast for in to create a fair gender-balanced performance including having female cast members take on the position of traditionally masculine roles. “Oh trust me Adam,” Mrs. Barber had replied earlier, “I grew up in Kitsalano in the 70’s, I know all about balanced gender roles”.

Mrs. Barber, bless her heart, did agree to let me help out with the costumes and makeup design as long as I promised not to throw roses onto the stage and shout “bravo”, and so in the weeks leading up to the play I was busy at work helping to dress the ensemble.

When it comes to costume design I prided myself on my keen ability to upcycle even the most irredeemable articles of sad discarded clothing, performing great miracles on a shoestring budget. Their robes were my dad’s old cardigans repurposed as desert travel wear, with head scarfs made of terry cloth towels brought together in color sequence with sashes made from curtains I found discarded in the laundry room of my apartment.

What unfolded was a splendid practice run. The actors remembered their lines, the touching moments were indeed touching, the funny moments were laugh out loud, best of all the costumes looked amazing. The play had a few minor missteps with dialogue which is what is to be expected with a dress rehearsal. Young Sarah Friesen the angel forgetting one of her lines for instance or Ryan Klassen the front half of the camel seeming terribly uncoordinated. The back half of the camel however was without flaw, marching with as handsome a strut I’d ever seen coming from a camel.

“Now, why don’t they give him a better part? I said to my sister, “they really should give him a better part next year”. The back half of the camel was played by young Jimmy Froese who I thought darn near stole the show last year playing the ringing bell at the end of It’s A Wonderful Life.

Finally the night of the performance came. It was snowing lightly just after 5pm, the streets were almost silent and peaceful. We’d gathered at my younger brother’s house for a light sandwich dinner after which we assigned transportation to the church. The stage was set, the seats were filling up, and there was a friendly hum of conversations in the air as the congregation shook hands, sipped coffee and ate shortbread cookies shaped like angels, stars, and Christmas trees.

The lights in the foyer blinked once, twice, and the crowd made their way to their seats. The curtains were drawn, and the performance began with an opening overture of strings leading the choir into the emotive and heart touching first lines “Mary, Did You Know”, complete with choreographed panning lights and a smoke machine.

Overseeing the play in the corner on a single hardwood pew seat was a kid with a long, pointed grey beard, a simple blue head covering and a faded red cloak. My sister leaned over and asked “is that supposed to be Santa, or Gandalf?” I whispered back, “Actually I think that’s Menno Simmons”.

It seemed Ms. Barber was going for more of a historical slant this year, starting with the first Christmas, jumping ahead to Christmas in the 1700s, then landing at Christmas in 1993, finally arriving in the present day as evidenced by the fact that the 3 wise men were being played by an all-female cast. A beaming sign next to the manger that proclaimed “#SmashThePatriarchy” wouldn’t have seemed at all out of place.

Indeed Mrs. Barber had outdone herself this year, but not entirely in a good way. The content of the play was very well thought out and artfully presented, it was the length of the play that seemed to be the weak point. By the 63rd straight minute of dialogue and character development the large cast of kids on the stage were starting to get restless.

By minute 74 there was murmuring in the audience as some of the more bored kids started improvising their lines, veering madly away from what seemed to be the script. No-one could really tell the difference at the point. The dialogue would not have seemed out of place in a David Lynch movie, but I don’t think that’s what the play was going for. For the audience of mostly rural conservative Mennonites it was too baffling to the handle.

The other actors had to sway too to keep up with the detractors. Minute by as the proverbial pageant ship was being tossed by the waves your started to fear maybe this story was going to end as a shipwreck.

The further into their new routine the cast continued in the more uncomfortable the feeling in the church became. Improv turned to shouting, acting turned to hooting and hollering, subtle movement turned to running and jumping! The shepherds were stick-fighting with their staffs, the angel had fallen off the back of the stage and Mary was laughing so hard she dropped the baby Jesus.

The audience was shuffling around in their seats and some adults had started standing up and making their way to the back doors. One of the pastors had the genius idea to walk huddled over to the brass band- perhaps if they start playing, he must have thought, it will drown out the chaos. The crowd seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as the kids quieted down for the final singing portion of the evening, heralding a much anticipated and hoped for end to the cheery holiday travesty.

The choir and audience started equally pitifully, with off key notes and staggered time signatures, mumbling most of the lyrics. But as the voices rose into a glowing chorus of Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright I could sense something was different. There in the midst of the passable melodies a sweet, soulful, mournfully beautiful sounding voice rose up like Rudolph’s nose in a snowstorm.

The audience, the cast, even the live donkey brought in from the Graham Family farm looked around to see where the voice was coming from. For a second I expected to see Roma Downey from touched by an angel walk out glowingly from one corner of the stage and say in her culturally indistinguishable accent “I’m an angel, sent from God to save this trainwreck of a Christmas play”.

Then emerging from the back of the stage through the artificial smoke, there was a boy wearing an odd costume of a furry pair of hooved legs that came up to his shoulders. I looked closely and sure enough, it was Jimmy Froese, the back half of the two-person camel costume! He had loosened himself from the front half of the costume and stood there in the light of the nativity scene like a fawn balancing on his two hooves.

As purposefully as a sunrise the brass band began to play, first the baritones and tuba, then the trumpets, and finally the trombones. The audience joined in at the second verse, the whole congregation singing with gusto. As the final notes echoed throughout the church Jimmy sang the refrain one last time, lingering on every line with a pure, warbling falsetto, and by the end there wasn’t a single dry eye in the entire audience. The whole auditorium rose in rapturous applause, standing to their feet in a spontaneous ovation cheering loudly for Jimmy Froese, the saviour of the Christmas pageant!

Mrs. Barber appeared carrying a microphone, beaming as if she’d planned the whole thing saying “Thank you, oh thank you, my now wasn’t that a charming show, and my what a voice, who would have thought,” patting Jimmy on the head.

Jimmy smiled and his proud parents in the third row wiped away tears of joy. “Now see,” I said to my sister, “I told you they should have given him a better part, that kid has promise!”

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whifferdills · 7 years ago

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“The Doctor Falls” quicktakes:

the cybermen scarecrows both make no sense and tie into so totally and terrifyingly into the overall theme of 'normalized horror' that if anyone is nitpicking based on Logic im gonna have to ask if you've ever enjoyed a piece of fiction, ever

Bill holding 12 is Iconic. the dark mirror of that one photoshoot where Sophie Aldred is carrying Sylvester McCoy. Companions Carrying Around Dr Who Forever

"how many times have you died?" "how many different ways?" like o.k. might be revealing too much of myself but this scene was hotttt

NARDOLE running away with purpose. that face

"oh, am i a woman now?" "well, kind of" "kiss me" "make me" "would you like to be alone?" im....fuckin. yeah

"which would mean more than it usually does" i n n u e n d o

that SONG what are they dancing to. if i remember to edit this i'll try and shazaam it

"old school, nice for a change," Simm!Master says while stroking his beard

Simm remains the slimiest of all Masters and the continuing sense of Missy playing along either to impress him or to play him or...these TWO

"Round??" "It's a little bit" "Shut up" THIS TIME LORD OK

shades of...what's that one where Simm pushes 10 around. Simm v much wants the Dr under his total control, but i think Missy would hugely prefer informed consent

confirming all origins of the Cybermen while dissing Trump and pulling off an unlikely plan: dr who in a nutshell

like even if what happens at the end did not happen, in an ideal world where narrative tropes are equally distributed, this is precisely how you'd do a conversion-type story. the emphasis on the character reacting against the monster they've become. having Bill be human!Bill for the most part really, really works

and the Dr being the only one who sees her, shades of "Last Christmas"

PCap going hard in the paint, dang

"Knock yourself out", and she does. nice

"Seriously, I need to know, is that true?" oh there's so much here and they're so close and it's just. how she looks at her hand after the dr lets it go, and rubs her face, and everything gets weird when dealing with touch telepaths

BILL MY GIRL GO GET EM

"the Doctor's dead, told me he hated you" "yeah heard you the first time" new dynamic: master/missy/nardole

the whole...dangerous person everyone is afraid of has a particular weight, when portrayed as a black lesbian. it's both kind of hinky and is getting at a really deep emotion, there. like sure it's not ideal but for Bill, dunno. this just seems like it rams in hard into her fears in an empathetic way

once again i do believe the Bill & Thete comparisons are deliberate

Bill looking into the mirror like...dang dude

Jelly baby?

aw the quiet whump, 12 is already broken and about to get more broken and. MY BOY. NO

they're so quiet, both of them. this scene is so heartbreakingly underplayed until the "i'm FINE" im

Bill yes i love you and support you

"why can't I be angry" ohhhhh that's a loaded line. maybe not played out so great but. yes. ask this question more, in your fiction

Nardole goes native once again. i love how him being a Computer Genius was woven into the series so he could save the day. nice organic arc, that

Bill & 12 brotp tho oh jeez these two

fuck off Simm!Master. so good at being slimy, and i love it, but a decade on am once again prepared to side-eye anyone who finds him Cute or Hot. he's a fuckboy, right

12's about to do a "Caves of Androzani" please no

Bill realizing 12 can't save her fuckin...fuck

"as my friend...i don't want to live if i can't be me anymore" and instead of "OH but i can SAVE THE DAY" the dr just says "...yeah. i gotchu. but - maybe?" and it's. thank.

s o n i c u m b r e l l a

is Simm!Master now sufficiently obviously gross enough for people to not write fluffy uwu fanfic

BILL MY GIRL

"Is the future gonna be all girl?" "We can only hope" CHINBALLS ARE U LISTENING

aw them three together pointing their sonics while Simm yells "kILL ITT" "well done, genius twins"

Nardole and his new girl...yknow, im happy for them. i like them. best of luck, godspeed

"is it wrong that I... "yes, very" HOLY SHIT AKDIPAHFFHPIAFHPIAWk0R-RY*@%@

kind of a Night of the Hunter vibe here

and a "Listen" vibe

Nardole was found on a doorstep

god the Dr's desperation here, how they just want to be kind even if it kills them. this is My Dr Who, right here. and aw Pcap stop making me tear up

"just to the end, just be kind" thank you murray gold and etc for shutting up, this scene really benefits from a lack of music, can u imagine how much a standard Gold riff would ruin this (sorry i uhhh. like i enjoy gold in broader stories and sometimes he nails it but im not hugely a fan)

and how Missy almost, almost stays

and dR WHO please PLEASE oh god ohgodohgodoh

Them RTD Cyberman Noises

t h e a p p l e o f d i s c o r d

like...okay this was not my dream ending for Twelvedole but the 'fuck off i'm a criminal im gonna ruin this so' and the 'you're stronger' and the.....fuck dude. and Nardole sort of saying goodbye at the tomb/elevator and then going on to live his life...it's bittersweet but i can deal

"You sure?" "You know i am" Aoufqurgo3qrq69r5674248148rfyhwekjs9d8f2q9(((((((((*^

"I need you to be big, and I need you to be brave, and I need you to follow me" NARDOLE

"Now that? was very really nicely done" i'm gonna fling myself into the sun

the Dr won't ever know that she meant to stand by their side and it's so them but it hurts ok

"You know how I go for girls and people my own age" and you're expecting like, oh god, not again, not another companion with a crush on the Dr, but then she says 'no hetero' and the dr's like 'yeh' and they blow themselves up together platonically. friendship goals

my headcanons about Koschei regenerating into Missy on Gallifrey are now kaput but i love, love love love, that they both shot each other in the back while giggling

remember that any character on this show is dead only until someone wants to bring them back

the dr won't ever know that missy would have stood by them and that's so...so them, and it hurts, but it feels right

12 naming off all the times Cybermen fucked shit up. here is where Murray Gold is good

"Let it go" im, i cant

when heather came back is when i outright started crying

BILL LIVES. in a different way. BUT FOREVER AND ALWAYS

but plus 1 to all of us who called heather coming back may they travel thru time and space happily, good luck and godspeed

hit or miss on that dude playing One but rn am erring on the side of it working for me

the Xmas special is gonna destroy me

am genuinely surprised there was no 13 here but i can deffo live with that

"i can fly anything, even you" oooHHHH

OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH

nice

Bill's the Dr now

woo-ee-ooooh oh dogg was that a riff on Clara's theme just fuck me up fam

tbh i feel like 12's earned their 'i don't want to go' more than ten like it's just that they want to stop more than anything

again the xmas special will ruin me

but yeh i liked this story ok

#the doctor falls #dw spoilers

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adamroper · 7 years ago

Text

A Christmas Foot, Chapter 2: Mrs Barber’s Annual Mennonite Christmas Pageant

The night of the dress rehearsal had come. In preparation for the event I booked off 3 days from work to travel out to the Fraser Valley where the plays took place. My aunt and uncle had driven in from Calgary, camping out in their converted camping van, which they let borrow to rally the troops- first to my sister's house to pick up my youngest niece, then to my younger of two brothers to pick up my other niece and my nephew.

I pulled into the Church parking lot which looked to be the size of 3 CFL football fields, and proudly lead my acting crew through the gleaming glass doors towards the auditorium.

Ms. Barber rolled her eyes and said “Oh hi Adam, I received the email you sent me with the 3 pages of set notes… thanks for that.” And she should be thankful, I for one was quite proud of my contribution. Just imagine how shabby and unprofessional these plays would be without my astute, well placed insights on the fine art of stage acting. I was from the city after all, I should know, I’ve been to the fringe festival at least 3 times.

One niece and my nephew had the part of Mary and Joseph, obviously. My other neice was playing a shepherd, a role I insisted she be cast for in to create a fair gender-balanced performance including having female cast members take on the position of traditionally masculine roles. “Oh trust me,” Ms. Barber told me earlier, “I grew up in Kitsalano in the 70’s, I know all about balanced gender roles”.

Mr. Barber, bless her heart, did agree to let me help out with the costumes and makeup design as long as I promised not to throw roses onto the stage and shout “bravo”, and so in the weeks leading up to the play I was busy at work helping to dress the ensemble.

What unfolded was a splendid practice run. The actors remembered their lines, the touching moments were indeed touching, the funny moments were laugh out loud, best of all the costumes looked amazing. The play had a few minor missteps with dialogue which is what is to be expected with a dress rehearsal. Young Sarah Friesen the angel forgetting one of herlines for instance or Ryan Klassen the front half of the camel seeming terribly uncoordinated. The back half of the camel however was without flaw, marching with as handsome a strut I’d ever seen coming from a camel.

Indeed Ms. Barber had outdone herself this year, but not entirely in a good way. The content of the play was very well thought out and artfully presented, it was the length of the play that seemed to be the weak point. By the 63rd straight minute of dialogue and character development the large cast of kids on the stage were starting to get restless.

By minute 74 there was murmuring in the audience as some of the more bored kids started improvising their lines, veering madly away from what seemed to be the script. Noone could really tell the difference at the point. The dialogue would not have seemed out of place in a David Lynch movie, but I don’t think that’s what the play was going for. For the audience of mostly rural conservative Mennonites it was too baffling to the handle.

Ms. Barber appeared carrying a microphone, beaming as if she’d planned the whole thing saying “Thank you, oh thank you, my now wasn’t that a charming show, and my what a voice, who would have thought,” patting Jimmy on the head.

Jimmy smiled and his proud parents in the third row wiped away tears of joy. “Hey see,” I said to my sister, “I told you they should have given him a better part, that kid has promise!”

#a christmas foot #christmas stories #Christmas

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