#Risley act

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

I would love all your thoughts on Maurice!

Hey, @renaultphile, sorry for the delay.

People often focus on the topic of homosexuality when discussing Maurice, which is a fair thing to do, since it’s the biggest and most obvious theme of the novel. However, I also like to talk about the other social aspects of the story, which are often overlooked. It’s actually been speculated that Maurice inspired D. H. Lawrence to write Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which makes a lot of sense when you think about it, since both novels feature romance between different social classes (for a start).

Yes, Maurice Hall is gay. And he’s also a snobbish, classist and misogynist middle-class man. Forster deliberately wrote him this way, well aware of his flaws — he never tried to normalize them. Maurice never really tried to work his situation up with his family; he never considered those women worthy of his personal respect. His change of heart towards working-class people happened solely because of Alec, and only because he knew that the chance of finding a solid relationship like that was very rare to come by. And yet, despite this, we all root for him, because he’s so human in all his flaws and yearning that his coming-of-age journey transcends these period-typical restraints. I love the wonderful paradox that Forster constructs: Maurice, the typical regular guy, ends up making a radical decision, while the once-rebellious Clive settles into monotonous conformity. I like to see the whole story as a way of showing that even a completely ordinary person like Maurice Hall is capable of wonderful acts of courage when placed in some specific situations.

As I said before, I think literary critics in the 1970s looked down on Maurice because they thought Forster's happy ending was just activism. But the novel is a very intriguing and self-aware Edwardian time capsule, a real glimpse into English nature. Not a “minor work” by any means!

And Merchant Ivory’s film adaptation is also great, of course. Quite faithful to the source material. The way they used Risley’s fate to justify Clive’s decision was clever, and it makes more sense than what happened in the novel (but that’s the risk of producing groundbreaking stuff, something can end up a bit too dated).

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Stranger’s Hand (10)

Summary: With a broken heart and recent truths, the tourney for Helaena’s ladies finally begins.

Warnings: angst, some foul language, mention of blood, mentions of sex

A/N: This one’s a biggie at over 8.5k so STRAP IN. IT’S TOURNEY TIME

A Stranger Masterlist

Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

There is something extraordinary about heartbreak.

Something so overwhelmingly painful, so endlessly unbearable. And perhaps most of all, so mercilessly soul-crushing.

And yet, feels so human.

It is grief, fur-lined with fear that joy has forever escaped. It is the plate of food that you leave behind untouched. It is the uncomfortable shudder when the bath water has become too cold. It is staring distastefully at your shoes, and not having the strength to put them on. It is the flush of pink that has forever left your cheeks and migrated north to the corners of your eyes.

How could both happiness and heartbreak be two sides of the same coin, when they barely felt like they were of the same world.

In the human sense, it felt cruel, to allow people to feel what you felt at this very moment. And something that quite possibly many women before you had felt. How could the Gods have done this, to create such a feeling as this.

Perhaps it had not been part of their plan at all. And you wondered, did they pity mere mortals when they saw such despair? When they saw how something as raw, pure and visceral as love could descend into such turmoil.

Sometimes, when you clasp the sapphire necklace around your neck, you look at yourself in the mirror and think of all the things that have been said about you. That you are an inhuman female demon, that you are an innocent victim of a man-crazed forced against your will and in danger of your own life, that you were too ignorant to know how to act, that you had green eyes, that you had blue eyes, that you had both, that you have brown hair, that you have black hair, that you are of a resentful disposition with a quarrelsome temper, that you are a temptress, that you are a virgin, that you are cunning and devious, that you are soft in the head and little better than a fool and that you are a good girl with a compliant nature.

And you wonder, how you can be all these different things at once. 

Sometimes when you are laying in bed, unable to sleep but too fearful to venture out into the dark, you whisper to yourself. Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne. All the men who over the past few days since the list was distributed, you learned would fight for your hand in marriage. Perhaps they would be kind. Or perhaps they would not. Perhaps they would insist on a bedding ceremony, and have their men tear their clothes from you at your marriage table, hands clamouring at your flesh as if you were a hen caught beneath the paw of a fox. 

Perhaps they would take pity on you and prepare you for the duty of bearing their heirs kindly and slowly. Perhaps they would take you like the whore many supposed you were and that this meant they needn’t prepare you. Perhaps they would die quickly without planting their seed inside you. Perhaps they would live and continue to torture you with their unloving presence for years yet to come. 

“Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne”

“Targaryen”

The name rouses a cloud of guilt and shame in your chest.

You thought of all this as the ache between your thighs where Aemond had been started to fade, a sore reminder.

They don’t understand. That guilt doesn’t come from the things you have done, but from the things that others have done to you.

Otto Hightower’s words are an incessant whisper in your left ear, ‘You see? How easy it is for an idea of a person to be forgotten’

And in your right, Aemond’s words from several weeks before, ‘We are wed in soul, my love’

You thought of your mother and what she would think of you. The whore or the maiden? And as Otto’s words racked around inside your head with lack of sleep, you thought more often of her and what hardships she had endured. What had happened to her, you wonder. You could almost see her face before you, but focussing on one part of her face meant that the others disappeared and blurred away into non-existence. And you wondered how long it would be before you could not remember any detail of her face. Did your father feel the same? Did he stare up at the canopy, trying to remember his wife’s face?

Despite being the middle of the night, there were still various servants strolling about the Keep in hurried manners. Preparing for traveling west to the grounds, for the tourney.

Grasping the navy robe around you tighter to make yourself appear smaller, you knocked on the oak doors, expecting a few seconds to go by before the voice would come. After all, it was the middle of the night. You looked at the moon, which was not quite full, and the longer you looked at it the further away it seemed to get.

“Lady Highgreen” came the voice of Larys Strong from between the crack of the door.

When you looked upon his face he looked expectant, almost pleased to see you at his door. For no other reason than to imagine what secrets he could draw from your pretty little mind.

“Lord Strong” you greet, not bothering to curtsy too deeply for him, “May I speak with you a moment?” 

Almost too eagerly, he opened the door a slither more and allowed you to squeeze through unnoticed. His chambers were dark, lit only by candlelight, but part of you thought that perhaps it always looked like these even in the middle of the day. A sunny day and Larys Strong didn’t seem like they could co-exist together. 

“I am very sorry to disturb you so late-” 

“It is no bother, my Lady. Please sit” he interrupts. You tie your robe tighter out of nervousness and sit opposite where you had presumed he had been before your arrival. He limps over to a table to get another cup, “I assumed you might want some wine” he says. Again, not really a question, but more of an assumption. This time a correct one.

He gives that unreadable smile when he hands you the wine filled goblet, watching the ways you clasp your nervous fingers around it in your lap. You didn’t particularly like Larys, in fact finding him a little disconcerting, but what you did appreciate was that he was forward, to the point. Something you feel is lacking in Court most of the time.

This is proven by his opening line.

“I trust you are anxious for the tourney tomorrow” 

With a curt nod, you take a sip from the cup, letting the slightly bitter wine linger a little.

“I have a duty, as does everyone else” is all you answer, but he acts like this answer is unsatisfying.

“But you do not want it”

At this, you meet his eyes. He is sitting opposite, his cane in his right hand, fingers stroking the pattern of the wood. You note that he is still dressed in his day wear, did this man ever sleep?

“I think I would be lying if I said I did, my Lord”

Larys huffs a laugh at that and you wonder for a moment what you said that was so funny. His mouth opens to say something but you endeavour to beat him to it.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but that is not why I am here” 

He raises his eyebrows at the forwardness of it, but somewhat amused. 

“Alright” he says, gripping his cane tighter, “then why are you here?”

The lack of formality does not surprise you. He is trying to be as unnerving as possible. A chill runs up your spine that you try to hide.

Taking in a breath, “I no longer wish to be tortured with the memory of my mother when I do not know what happened” you begin, “I wish to know about her, prior to my birth”

Larys cocks his head, “What would possess you to believe I know?” 

You want to say, don’t be so cocky, but you need his cooperation, “I know my mother and father were here, both for their marriage and my birth. I believe you were here also, your father was Hand of the King at that time”

He smiles, but it falters for a moment before returning. 

“Indeed. And what is it specifically that you would like to know?”

You take another sip of the wine, sending a jolt of confidence through you that you knew you’d need. 

“I have heard some rumours about her, and I would like to know if there any truth to them” you start, fingers tracing the rim of your cup, “it is said she caused quite a bit of trouble, I know no more than that” 

Larys’ smile seemed to fade at the mention of ‘trouble’ and averted his eyes, as if casting his mind back, to before a time where you were even born.

“I remember the wedding very well. Your mother was quite the picture. The Queen Mother, I believe, was present as a guest”

“So they were close?” 

“They were inseparable. As if attached to the hip. I believe the Lord Hand may have been acquainted with your grandfather”

You nod your head in understanding. Perhaps you had not realised just how close your mother and Alicent had really been.

“The ceremony lasted well into the night, your mother and father were practically hanging off one another in love. It is a rare sight to see, for an arranged marriage”

“Why were they married here?”

“I would have thought the Queen Mother insisted on having it in the capital”

Larys sighed once he swallowed some more wine. 

“Not two moons passed since the wedding when your father was hurried away for business and it didn’t take long for your mother to find herself in trouble”

You lean forward, “Trouble?...”

Larys smiled widely. 

“It is said that your mother and her cousin, Lord Cameron Tarth, were discovered in a…compromising position within her chambers”

Despite the heat of the room, your blood suddenly ran cold in your veins and you shuddered, swallowing dryly. You tried to envision it, trying desperately to not let the opinion of many others colour the judgement of your late mother. For she was not here to defend herself.

You allow Larys to carry on.

“It is unclear exactly what transpired. Your mother was beside herself with hysteria for days. And only when your father returned did she finally come out of her chambers”

“What of Lord Cameron?” you ask. You are sure he is still alive, but had never truly met him.

Larys shrugs, “Some say he left for the Wall, others say he crossed the Narrow Sea. If one thing is certain he left King’s Landing with haste”

The answer doesn’t satisfy you and you’re left with a bad taste in your mouth.

“The rest are merely baseless rumours, but many in fact believed your mother had a brief affair with Lord Cameron. And not long after-”

“She was with child” you interrupt, looking up to meet his eyes, “Was she not?” 

Larys merely nods, tapping a ring-clad finger on the rim of his cup, “Your mother was inconsolable. And I do not mean to offend you my Lady since you are living and breathing before me, but it was clear she did not desire to be with child” 

You clear your throat, “And what of my father? What did he do?”

“Well…” he sighs, casting his mind back, eyes on the ceiling of his chambers, “...your father was annoyingly very indifferent, despite the King’s counsel. It created quite the fuss and because of all the commotion there was the fear that your father would lose allies”

The realisation hit you that this was why your father so diligently allied himself to the Greens when the Dance began. He must have felt the need to prove himself, even so many years later. It didn’t make you want to swipe the smug face off Otto’s face any less though.

“In my opinion, your mother’s image was saved entirely by the Queen Mother”

Your eyes meet him again, drawing up slowly from your lap.

“She would certainly have flung herself from the Tower of the Hand to end the pregnancy had the Queen Mother not been there to comfort her”

You ponder the answers you received for a moment, learning more here than a lifetime with your father. No wonder he was secretive about her, he had not wanted to uproot her memory and stir about such rumours again.

So you polish off the rest of the wine in your cup and clasp your hands before you, offering a small curtsy before making for the door.

“Thank you Lord Larys, I appreciate your honesty”

Watching you leave with a smirk, Larys responds, “It is no problem, Lady Highgreen”

Before placing your hand on the doorknob, you swivel on your spot, seeing Larys’ eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“I must ask” you begin, “why is it that there are no records of my mother being here?”

Now Larys looked confused, “Oh there certainly are. Just perhaps not where you would expect them to be”

Why is everyone so cryptic here, you think to yourself. 

Without another word, you leave, with even more questions than what you started with. The sky that you had observed before was tinged with a light blue, the sun threatened to come over the horizon. Every hair on your arm stood on end and a shuddering breath escaped your mouth. Your father would be arriving soon no doubt. Part of you couldn’t stand the thought of returning to your chambers.  

You chant once more.

“Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne”

Usually being up at the crack of dawn was no trouble to Aemond. He had always been early to rise. It meant that he could roam about and pretend for some while that the Keep was all his own.

But this morning he felt as if he could sleep the day away without issue.

The maids rushed about his room, laying out his clothes for the day ahead, scurrying away quickly when he pushed his torso from the mattress. With a heavy sigh, the pad of his index finger traced the scar that lined half of his face. It flared with irritation and a heat emanated from beneath the skin, making it much more sensitive than it would otherwise be. It was like his body knew the consequences of today, what hardships it would bring.

He ran his fingers through his silver hair to untangle the knots he had formed in his sleep, rising to observe the plane of land outside his window. A particularly itching feeling began in his chest to look down to see if you were asleep in your usual spot, as you so often were in the months at the Keep. And how he wished he hadn’t. For when he looked down, you were there, eyes softly closed and basking in the morning sunlight, a cloud of warm breath expelled from your mouth every so often with the chill of the dawn.

Begrudgingly, he pulled his clothes over his body, making an extra effort to appear more formal and put-together. He pulled the strap over his eye and had barely attached it when a knock at his chamber door sounded. 

Sigh, “Enter” 

He immediately regretted his harsh tone when he saw who it was.

“Helaena” 

She looked sombre, with dark circles under her eyes, and the top of her nose was pink as if she had been weeping. She was dressed also, today donning a cream gown with yellow detailing. She was always one for lighter colours, in stark contrast to her younger brother.

Not a moment sooner was the door closed when Helaena rushed over to the window, “Is she still there?” she asked. 

Thoroughly confused, Aemond could only guess who she was speaking of, “Yes, she is”

“Good. I need to speak to you” 

Aemond stood awkwardly as if waiting and took a seat. Despite her hurried state, the Queen merely stood there, mouth agape, forming the words in her head first.

So it was Aemond who spoke first. And he might as well speak plainly on a day like this.

“She knows, Helaena”

Helaena met his gaze, as if it was the same thing she was going to say.

“She knows about Alys”

Aemond had never told Helaena outright about the relationship he had begun with you. But he knew, she knew. She would always know everything that happened, whether she wanted to or not. A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“You and I both know that none of it is true” Aemond began,

“Of course, we know, but she does not” Helaena began to pace about the room, “Our dear grandfather has put the idea in her head that it was a fully fledged relationship, with a child!”

Aemond huffed, even casting his mind back was incredibly difficult to do. The war, realistically, was not that long ago. But the scars felt by them were still fresh.

“It was nothing like what he said”

“She manipulated you, Aemond. And lied through her teeth to advance that child to the throne”

Aemond’s left side of his face inflames irritably. 

“She sought her chance and paid the price, no more need be said about it”

“There does when she believes you indifferent to her” Helaena argues,

“Rather she hates me for believing I would abuse her in such a way” Aemond murmurs in response, fingers tapping at the side of the armchair.

“Well then do something about it, Aemond!”

The younger brother is silenced at his sister’s volume. A rare sight to behold. Her lilac eyes bore into his and the intensity of it makes him want to turn away. Some said there was little fire in Helaena, but this wasn’t true. There was fire, but in her words.

“I cannot stand you moping around allowing her to marry somebody else” she huffs,

“It is not only my decision, Helaena. And who is to say she would even accept me now?”

“Do you hear yourself?” she asks almost too angry to form words, “If you offered your hand to her, do you think her father would be in any position to refuse?”

“Only if I participated for her hand”

“So why don’t you?”

Aemond purses his lips and looks up. If there is one thing he hates, it is to be reproached. 

But Helaena, with that aforementioned fire, does not back down, “Your pride?” she asks.

“Helaena” he sighs.

A muffled squeal is heard through the glass of the windows and Helaena looks out, seeing that your father had surprised you with his arrival by sneaking up on you in the gardens. You had your arms thrown around him, positively joyous at his arrival. For a second, the despair disappears from your face, but the moment your father turns his back, the unmistakable drop is there.

Helaena inhales sharply, looking towards her younger sibling, “They will all be here soon. I shall hope you make your decision on what is more important soon. Your pride or her”

Aemond felt he’d had the air knocked from him once Helaena had left. His scar was sore as was his mind, swimming with thoughts. He knew he had to act. He had felt what it was to have her, not only in body but in mind and soul. Aemond had a taste of what it was to feel someone’s kindness touch him so intimately and now he did not have it, he felt the sheer chasm of loneliness that the lack of her touch would allow him to fall into. The blackened abyss of what it was to watch someone you loved walk away.

No, he thought.

This couldn’t happen.

This will not happen.

He was a fucking Targaryen. 

And by the Gods, he cursed himself for forgetting the words of his own house.

Four carriages were lined up for the ladies, their fathers and Queen Helaena. Seven ladies in total were queued up to board their respective carriages, hands clasped before them, their gazes stuck on their feet before them. They looked so sombre and depressed that there may as well have been chains clanging between their wrists. Instead their father’s hand wrapped around their arms, some harshly and some with indifference.

Arm in arm with your father, his large, comforting hand on yours, your other hand bunched up the skirt of your dress to allow you to step up into the carriage. 

“You look exquisite, child” your father said, taking his spot opposite you. 

You merely smiled at his compliment, brushing some dust from your skirts. The maids had chosen all different colours for each of Helaena’s ladies, all varying shades of soft pastels. You noted that each house wore loosely a colour that their house represented, with Lady Lannister looking the most striking in a soft shade of crimson. Of course, it had meant that you wore a soft, pale blue with golden accents, akin to the bird that donned the sigil of House Highgreen.

A vaguely golden figure shuffles into the carriage and Helaena sighs as her back meets the seat. The Kingsguard murmurs nervously outside,

“My Queen, this is not your carriage-”

She merely closes the door to ignore him, barely turning her head to meet yours, she reaches over and takes your hand, intertwining her fingers into yours. She sighs again and closes her eyes, almost appearing as nervous as you, though there was little need for her to be.

Your father chooses not to say anything, instead busying himself with the view outside, watching the landscape go by before taking the road to the Waterfront to make the hour-long journey to the Tourney Grounds.

Helaena’s hand remains in yours the entire way. She had so much to say, but could not in the company of your father. So as much as it pained her to do so, she remained quiet. But you knew she was thinking of you when her grip tightened every so often.

“Will the King be in attendance, my Queen?” your father asked, knowing the answer but intent on making some conversation.

Helaena forced a smile, “Indeed, my Lord” she said quietly, “my husband prefers to ride on Sunfyre if it is nice weather”

You furrow your brows at this. It was most certainly not nice weather, in fact, it was so cloudy that at any moment the clouds could have opened to bring forth a storm. And because of the anticipation of it, it locked in the humid heat, making the air uncomfortable to breathe.

Aegon had most likely ridden the dragon to be rid of female company while he could.

“I hear Prince Daeron will be visiting from Oldtown for the tourney, your Grace”

“A rare occurrence indeed. All of us are rarely in the same place at once these days” Helaena says, squeezing your hand. It was almost painful the way her slender fingers gripped yours, but the pain barely reached you.

Instinctively, your fingers came to your necklace, turning over the pendant over and over again in a nervous gesture. The glint of the sapphire made your father look over briefly, his own fingers twisting his wedding ring. The whispers of what Larys had told you whirred around your brain and looking at your father now only made them louder. Would he ever have told you about her? For some reason, you don’t think so.

The carriage jolted to a stop, making your heart lurch from your chest.

Ambrose. Risley. Tarth. Thorne.

They echoed like a curse. Like the curse of being a woman.

Your father exited the carriage first, then Helaena, who never released her hand from yours.

“Y/n” she said quietly, in a hushed voice, “Look at me”

You obey her without question.

“...there is a broken shield…the ground opens up…he has black armour…”

She begins her usual babbling when she is nervous, “Helaena..” you say in comfort, trying to use her name to break her from her trance.

Her lilac eyes meet yours and both of her hands hold yours.

“You must be ready” 

And just like that. She is gone.

You watch the back of her disappear in the crowd of her ladies, not knowing anything of what she meant. 

You half-run to your father, taking his hand. His usual smile is something so comforting, but now, on the brink of a marriage proposal, seems so distant. He watches as you smile sadly at him, tears glazing your eyes and his hand rests on your face,

“Oh my sweet girl” he says lovingly, his mouth barely moving beneath his beard.

All notions of doubt were cast away with those words. It reminds you of being a child again. But most of all it serves to remind you that you are his daughter, and he is your father.

You barely register your head leaning against his hand, but before you can find further solace in him, you turn away. What you said with your eyes needn’t be said out loud and your hand lingers in his for a moment before you join the rest of the ladies. One lady in a blush dress is being berated by her father, with words such as ‘stop crying’ and ‘stop this ridiculousness’ being popular phrases.

You walk alongside Lady Lannister, who has resorted to silence, simply staring up at the dark clouds overhead, watching the sun as it tries to force its light between them.

She takes your hand as you file into your seats, all sitting in the front row. Helaena has the centre spot beside you, right opposite where the King would be seated. But he was not here yet and very well may be late to his own tourney.

Your eyes scanned the opposite seats. There was a seat akin to a throne for Aegon, two beside him and another next to those which Alicent was seated in. On Aegon’s left there would be his youngest brother, Prince Daeron and on his right, would be Prince Aemond. But all three were empty. On the other side, sat as surly as ever, was Otto Hightower. It was difficult to know for certain, but his eyes seemed to flit between you and his granddaughter, Helaena. His words were still haunting your idle mind, and it rang there like a curse.

You feel Lady Lannister’s leg twitch with nervousness as you look over to Alicent, nodding when you meet eyes. Her expression is distant and she immediately looks away once she gives a smile of greeting, staring into a random void that was anywhere but here.

A band of at least a dozen men clad in armour began to file onto the field before you, while the staff began to write the schedule on the board for all to see. You watched them write all the names, gut wrenching to see that your name was placed last, right after Lady Lannister. And as well as that, the names of the men who submitted names were also written there.

It made your furrow your brows. All names were in alphabetical order, save yours. And when your eyes spotted your father sat on the opposing stands, his brows were scrunched together in question as well.

A ray of sun poked from between two dark clouds as Aegon advanced to his spot with another silver haired young man, who you presumed was Daeron. Daeron the Daring, they called him, for his endeavours during the Dance. And from this angle, as he sat and observed the people before him, no wonder he had earned the nickname, for he looked every bit as mischievous as you had expected him to be.

The band began to play when Aegon took his seat, initiating the beginning. At this you furrowed your brows. Aemond was not here. A little part of your heart that still had some hope died immediately and your spare hand clenched the skirts of your dress, stress overtook your senses and you felt like you could vomit right there and then.

Helaena leaned to you, “I will not let you go” she whispered.

More cryptic messages, you thought.

“I thank you all for joining me on this joyous day” Aegon’s voice immediately halted everyone, and all eyes were suddenly on him. There was a slight slur to his voice as he continued, “Let the tourney for Queen Helaena’s ladies, begin” 

His eyes were trained on you it seemed as he sat down, a goblet of wine instantly materialising in his hand. The band’s music was a welcome distraction to all the chuntering and whispering going on amongst the ladies, especially the lady who was first to have her hand fought for. Two men mounted their horses in their respective colours and the lady seemed to weep silently just watching. 

She clutched her flowered favour in her hands, almost so tight that she crushed the petals. Other women resorted to letting their eyes wander, and when you did, you could see the outline of Kings Landing with Aegon’s High Hill visible only barely beneath the blanket of dark clouds. 

The clash of swords made you jump in your spot and a high-pitched male cry sounded out, cheers and clapping erupting from the stands as one man was pushed from his horse. A trail of thick blood followed his limping form as he clutched his leg, his ancestral sword still firmly in his grip.

It was only when the winning bachelor raised his sword that his opponent dropped his weapon, “I yield!” he shouts, not wishing to risk either more blood nor his life for the likes of a woman.

More silent tears adorn the lady’s cheeks as she stands, lowering her favour onto the winner’s sword. In truth she may have been more upset at the bloodshed than at the prospect of marrying the victor, for he was known to be quite kind and not bad on the eyes. Nonetheless, she took her seat once more as her flowers decorated the hilt of his weapon and he took his leave with a big grin on his face.

If the first one was quick, the following tourneys were slow. Some of the ladies had as many as six men fighting for their hand, so often it would result in hand to hand combat, with swords swinging, cutting the very air around them. The thud of their swords on shields was enough to send a dull chill into the spines of the spectators, with their hearts making a similar noise.

You look up to see Aegon lean over in his seat, speaking with Alicent. Whatever he asks, he has to repeat over the noise of the band, shouting and cheering and the only thing you read on his lips is ‘Aemond’. Alicent shrugs her shoulders and Aegon turns back to lock eyes with you, peering over the rim of his goblet. Flitting between you and Helaena as if in question.

Otto never takes his firm gaze off you for more than a few moments as the hours drag on.

You finally breathe when the intermission begins. Six out of Helaena’s ten ladies now have their prospective husbands, and at least half of them would not stop weeping. So you followed the ladies as they all crowded to the refreshments, most if not all of the ladies with a generous cup of wine in their hands. When you look across the clearing, something jumps inside your chest when you see your father smiling jovially in conversation with Alicent Hightower and for the first time all day it felt like, she was smiling along with him.

“Lady Highgreen”

The familiar voice of Otto Hightower behind you soured your mood instantly. Begrudgingly, you turn to face him and offer a slight curtsy, not quite making all the effort.

“My Lord Hand, how are you today” you ask flatly, not hiding the annoyance on your features.

Much like you have seen Aemond do with other people, he revels in the discomfort he brings and smiles, “It is a fine day for a tourney” he comments.

Why does everyone keep saying that, you think, it is foul weather.

But you just nod your head, taking a sip of wine and steal a glance at your father. His smile has dropped once he sees who is speaking with you.

When Otto realises you will not dignify him with a response, he continues, “I hope the Prince’s absence is not of your doing” he says.

You cock your head at him, “I know nothing of his whereabouts, Lord Hand”

“Do not play coy with me” he warns, his voice low and serious. Quiet as well, to not upset your father, who is still watching.

Your ring finger taps against the goblet, eyes averted.

“There is no great plot. Whether the Prince is present or not is of no great advantage to me”

“And I was born yesterday” he answers. 

You lock eyes.

“I have not spoken to him. Nor has he spoken to me. As I asked” You counter his words.

“Do you expect me to believe that. Truly?” 

“Believe as you wish, Lord Hand. I have said my truth” 

Otto is about to return the favour, when your father crosses the clearing, intent to talk to you. And like a cockroach in the ray of light, Otto scurries away, not even sending your father a mere greeting.

“What did the Lord Hand want?” your father asks and you’re shocked by his rather serious tone, as he is so usually found with a smile on his face. But now he watches Otto walk away, as if making sure he is truly leaving. Burning a brand into the back of the man’s head.

“He spoke of the tourney, nothing more”

Your father knows this is a lie, but does not explore further as he looks down at you, an ever-fatherly protective expression on his face.

“You are on Otto’s bad side, when you ought to be on his blind side, dear daughter”

“Father?...”

A look flashes across his face and he lovingly places a kiss to your forehead, almost instantly snapping back into his usual persona. You go to open your mouth once more, but in a flash he is gone. And even when you look back across the clearing, Alicent is gone as well. Each of them feeling more like a ghost the longer the day went on.

As you all filed back to your seats, Lady Lannister stuck to one side of you and Helaena to the other, you gripped the favour in your lap. It was a ring of blue flowers, the ones that grew knee high in the fields at Green Hill and the only ones that were native to that region of Westeros. They were tied with white and golden ribbon, colours to reflect House Highgreen once more. 

You watched as the tourney ramped up once more and now with wine in their bellies, it had become significantly more violent. Two young men had already been carried away with what appeared to be life-changing injuries and now it seemed like the men were purely doing it out of enjoyment and not at the prospect of marriage. 

Seven men lined one side of the grounds, their respective betrothed’s favours around their weapons. Then eight. The ninth tourney begins and two of the men who fight for Lady Lannister had also placed their names for you also, but whether that would happen was another thing entirely. Lady Lannister took in a breath and gripped your hand tightly and who were you to refuse her this kindness? This comfort.

The two men grunted like animals, almost matching the sounds their horses were making as the two began to fight. You sit and watch the sun disappear beneath the dark clouds, seeing how the rain begins to fall somewhere far away and threatens to come closer. But just as quickly, the fight is complete and Victor of House Risley lays flat on the floor, his leg facing a direction it most certainly shouldn’t be. His shield that donned his house sigil is completely shattered.

The crowd erupts in applause and Lady Lannister’s fate is sealed with Rickard of House Thorne. Her father across is clapping and nodding in approval as she stands and places her favour on the tip of his sword, watching as it sways to the hilt towards his face, which smiles up at her. He has a kind enough face and you only hope that she is at least happy. When she takes her seat once more, she no longer weeps and does not reach for your hand. It is as if her soul is taking refuge within herself. 

Since Victor is critically injured and Rickard had claimed Lady Lannister as his betrothed, that left two men for you. Marq of House Ambrose and Bryndemere of House Tarth. You swallow dryly and grip the favour, now empathising with what the previous ladies had all felt. Briefly, you look over at your father, almost in a last-ditch effort to plead for him to call it all off. But he merely looks on as Victor is hauled away screaming. By now the ground is wet with blood. 

“I feel sick…” you whisper to yourself. But Helaena must have heard you, as she places her warm, comforting palm on your knuckles, peering over to see your expression. 

“We will not let you go” she says.

The two remaining men enter the field and you hold your breath, fearing that if you let go, so would the dam that was holding your tears back. Marq is wearing silver armour with trims of yellow in reflection of his house and he barely offers a glance in your direction as his squire laces up his gloves. Bryndemere on the other hand, with lance in hand, cannot tear his eyes off you. You think that this is not because of some infatuation, but more so that you two were well-acquainted as children, being distantly related through your mother’s Tarth side. He almost has an sympathetic expression, before placing his lacquered black helmet upon his person, matching with the rest of his armour.

You close your eyes, intent on not watching at all. But the first clash of weapons is too bone-shattering to ignore and you jump in your seat, gripping Helaena’s hand tighter. You feel a protective part of you flare as Bryndemere is flung from his horse, gasping for air as he’s hit square in his chest. His father stands on the opposite side, mouth agape, to see if his son is alright. 

Marq, on the other hand, merely dismounts with a swagger in his step towards him, drawing his ancestral sword from his side to strike down. Once again, a shield is shattered, with its piercing splinters flying about. Marq’s laugh echoes inside his helmet as he raises his weapon to strike.

“I yield!” Bryndemere begs. 

With a sigh, a part of your dam breaks and you close your eyes, several tears fall down your face. Ambrose it is.

Victorious, Marq removes his helmet and revels in the cheers of the audience. His own father is clapping, almost deafening the man next to him. You place Helaena’s hand back on her lap and stand, hand finding purchase on the beam before you when you sway uncontrollably on the spot. When his eyes land on you, you swear it activates a different part of your subconscious that tells you to run. 

But instead he waltzes towards you, extending his sword for your favour.

No sooner do you take one step and the entire audience falls into silence. A great sound is heard like no other that echoes about the deserted land around you. While difficult to describe, it was only akin to the crumbling of stone, the crash of waves against rock and the chaos of a great fire. A single drop of rain falls between your feet when you look around. It seems like the world holds its breath, ready to hear it once more. 

It happens again but closer, all the wind knocked from everyone’s lungs when the very ground sways beneath you, rocking the stands. While it is too close for comfort, a great dragon claw grips the ground behind the stand and the very earth opens up to reveal the damp mud below, the unmistakable tracks left behind. 

With your breath heaving in your throat and ground still moving beneath you like being aboard a ship, you look up. It is distant enough that it’s almost difficult to see, but it is Vhagar’s large head that turns around the stand to let out her famously loud cry, sending the dust in the air vibrating. Your watery eyes track her scales up her neck to her back where there was his silhouette sitting atop the mighty dragon. He was sat calmly, the only movement was his stark silver hair against the darkened clouds. 

Women screamed, some even fainted at the sight of Vhagar. And you did not see, for your eyes were locked on his form, but Aegon and Otto both stood from their seats. Aegon had a confusing look on his face, not able to tell if he was amused or annoyed. Otto on the other hand was seething from head to toe, shaking his fists. Alicent had her hand on her seven-pointed star necklace at her chest. Daeron stayed seated and smiled, as if saying finally, something interesting.

“Aemond…” were the only words that came from your mouth in a whisper. 

Helaena almost laughed with glee.

You can feel the first smattering of rain on the side of your face as the wind picks up, showering droplets onto your face. You swear you see him turn his face down to look at you, but the distance makes it impossible to tell. What you can see is how naturally he dismounts his great dragon, a helmet in the shape of a dragon head in one hand.

Only when he approaches does everyone get a good look at him. His hair is down but pulled away from his face, his eyepatch fixed in place over it. He has one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other is holding his helmet, his gaze is locked on yours for a moment and you forget briefly how to breathe. He doesn’t look anything like you remember him. 

When you think of Aemond and his presence, he seemed stoic, impassive and very much an observer. His aura was intimidating in general, but as time went on this front crumbled before you to reveal a sensitive, emotional human behind it all.

But now. There was something else in his eyes and not necessarily when it was aimed at you, but something had taken root there.

Marq made the mistake of opening his mouth in a smile, “My Prince! So nice to see you”

Aemond didn’t return the greeting, only granting him a darkened look.

“I’ve come to duel for Lady Highgreen’s hand” 

The words that come from Aemond’s mouth almost make you weak and you barely feel Helaena’s kind hands guide you back into your seat, her thumb stroking your skin.

Marq huffs a laugh, “My Prince I am afraid I have claimed her hand for myself already. Fair and square”

Helaena swallows and the audience as well as the band are deathly quiet. Afraid that if one sound was made that it would shatter the tension between them. Aemond’s smile almost makes everyone more uneasy.

“I see no favour on your sword, Lord Ambrose” he draws his own sword slowly and hands it to a squire, who visibly shakes, “Do you refuse your Prince?” he smiles.

Marq swallows dryly, clearly nervous. He knows it, he is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. The Prince wishes to toy with him and he is in no position to refuse. Rather, he needs to put up a good fight.

“And where is your name on the board, Prince Aemond?” Marq questions it, but it’s clear from the shake in his voice how he feels, “You would take away what is rightfully mine?”

When Marq talks of you as if you are an object to be bartered for, a noticeable chill runs up your spine. 

Little does he know that his bark is only giving Aemond more satisfaction.

“Hm” he seems amused, “Rightfully or no, duel me or I will take her to Dragonstone myself and make her my wife” 

A few womanly gasps emit from the stand, half in shock at the scandalousness of it, the other half seem to look on smiling. Your breath catches in your throat at the vulgarity of what he threatens Marq with, but in reality, a little part of you that had that love left for him begins to unfurl.

When Aemond gets no response, the squire hands his sword back to him once he’s placed his helmet on and he points the tip towards the Ambrose man.

“Either way, Ambrose, she will be my wife. And she will be mine”

You can’t tell if you’re afraid or thankful for what Aemond says. Your father looks absolutely shocked and you’re not sure if that’s entirely a good thing.

But Marq of House Ambrose, in front of all these people, is not likely to swallow his pride and yield. Instead, he places his own helmet back on and gets into a readied stance. For a brief second you dare to flit across to the King and his family.

Alicent looks half-shocked and half-relieved, Aegon and Daeron are amused. Otto is most certainly not and you dare say, he will make his distaste for it all obvious once the tourney is over, whether the result is favourable to you or not. 

As skilled a swordsman as Aemond is, your heart lurches in your chest at the mere thought of him risking any injury for this. You had thought many men who fought here today were brave and skilful and yet some had lost limbs for the sake of a betrothal. Your fingernail dug into your palm to distract you from the emotional turmoil you felt in this moment. Tugging in two directions. One tugs in the way of heartbreak, the thought that something inside you had been lost forever at the revelation several nights ago. On tugs in the way of hope, a hope that despite all that, he did feel something.

The first clash of swords rings out, followed by a sharp swish as Aemond pushes Marq away with his weapon. You just know that Aemond is smiling beneath the helmet he is wearing, loving the humiliation he imagines Marq must be feeling. The two continue this dance for several minutes, mostly because Aemond revels in the torture that this must be for the audience. Marq delivers his own flat strike onto Aemond’s shoulder and whether he is pretending or not, it clashes on his armour and sends him to his knees. 

In a stroke of confidence, Marq straddles Aemond and attempts to plunge the sword down beneath him with a loud grunt. You wince when he parries it, sending the two longswords flying a fair distance. Aemond hooks his foot beneath Marq’s leg, flipping him so the poor Ambrose man is on his front, writhing around while the Prince’s foot is flat in the centre of his back.

You almost jump out of your seat when Aemond draws his dagger, pulling Marq’s head up from the dirt by his hair to place the blade beneath his neck. It shocks you. You’ve never seen Aemond act so brutal before. And it stirs something inside you which has never seen the light of day before. 

Aemond almost looks bored when he says it.

“Say it” 

“I yield” Marq hisses, but Aemond pulls his hair even more so.

“Louder, so they can hear you” 

Aemond locks eyes with you now and you can see his lilac eye shimmer in the darkness of his helmet.

He sighs when Marq doesn’t respond, so he pushes the dagger so it is flush with the tender skin of his throat.

“I can’t hear you”

“I fucking yield!”

Once Aemond pulls off his helmet, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. He makes no big show about it, egging them on, and instead keeps his eye firmly on you. The rain falls thick and fast now and your waves form locks as they dampen, it makes the dried tears on your face appear as if it’s just rain now and you feel a warm trickle of it run down your neck.

Without breaking his gaze from you, he raises his hand to pull off his eyepatch and stands before you at the stands, bending to pick up his longsword that had been launched in the duel. He twists the hilt in his palm a few times and stays still as the applause continues. 

You look down at him, still clutching your favour in your hand, the petals now moulded to the shape of your grip. For a moment you consider if his mournful look is an apology. As if despite the show he had put on, he was still asking for your hand. And only when he was sure he would be forgiven, would he raise his sword to accept your favour.

He appears tired, you now see. And he thinks the same of you. Weak and pale, as if all warmth has disappeared. It’s here, with the absence of the eyepatch, that you see how red and inflamed his scar looks, and how much he must ache. For a moment, you glance over at Vhagar who is almost watching the interaction with as much interest as the audience, her throat rumbles when your eyes catch her.

Only when you look back at Aemond does he mouth, my love. Almost in a question.

Your body moves before your mind and you stand, letting Helaena’s hand slip out of yours and she watches with a child-like glee at the scene before her. You give a very slight smile as you reach out, the tip of his sword is within reach. The rain penetrates your clothing into your skin as the flowers float to the hilt of his sword, you exhale with a wracked laugh, finally allowing a genuine smile to pass your features.

Aemond looks a mixture of relieved and happy when the flowers reach his sword. He ignores the stares of his family, of your father and of everyone else; his attention is specifically you. And for as long as he lives, will only ever be you.

You barely register Aemond’s arm reaching out to wrap around your waist, suddenly feeling embarrassed when he effortlessly lifts you off the stands. The smile is unmistakable on his face now as the audience shout and cheer for the dramatics the Prince is offering. He leads you by your hand back towards Vhagar, the pleading voice of Alicent and your father becomes muffled and distant. Aemond seems a man charged with power when he lifts you to the saddle in front of him wrapping the reins around your waist.

“Sōvēs” is all he commands to his dragon.

“Aemond…!” you shout in shock as Vhagar lifts her feet to flap her wide wings, naturally grasping his arm to keep you stable. A natural dragon rider, Aemond barely sways in his spot and keeps his arm around your waist as the rain pounds down, mixing with the mud and blood on the tourney grounds. In the distance, as Vhagar lifts to the sky, Marq of House Ambrose is being berated by his father. And you briefly see your father stand where he was sat in the stands, a proud smile on his face. 

Taglist:  @m00n5t0n3 @boofy1998 @merakiaes​ @hanihoney88 @let-love-bleeds-red​ @bellaisasleep​ @watercolorskyy @heavenley1927 @ryswritingrecord @partypoison00 @gaeela-6 @saeselkie @padfooteyes @introverbatim @queenofshinigamis @thatkingofgirl @ryswritingrecord @dahlias-and-marigolds​

[artyandink]

ＩＮＴＲＯＤＵＣＩＮＧ — logan .ᐟ.ᐟ

chain between his teeth and eyes make your knees weak

ATTRIBUTES: LOGAN is probably the town’s biggest cliché— hot, if you like the cliché of ‘bad boy’. well, if his words don’t get you, his voice will, it’s like he gets through the chinks in a girl’s armour and breaks it apart, and to boot, he’s BONNIE’S bass guitarist older brother. he’s extremely protective of her too, if you hurt her, you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of a hard stare and a fist.

HISTORY: he was BONNIE’S equally artsy older brother, the first child of WES and BETTY, looking (on the outside) the furthest from his farm boy roots as he could, but really, he wears his heart on the inside of his sleeve— he helps around on the farm as much as he could, acts as a wingman, all this while being a senior at smallville high.

RADIO STATION:

↳ heaven by julia michaels

↳ teeth by 5sos

↳ older by isabela larosa

HIS EYES ARE ON WHO, NOW? well, a couple of people. chloe sullivan, and he’s got a toxic ex: britney west, he’s never going back to her. lastly, the sweetheart bella risley, unexpected combo, right?

↳ copyright to @artyandink, all rights reserved. I do not own smallville.

↳ comment ‘pandora’ to join the TAGLIST.

[milllies]

Good afternoon or evening everyone, today I want to ult the Wriollets and speculate a little (actually bomb some people and a ship). And so, Fontaine came out not so long ago, but many of us have already fallen in love with the ship of Risley and Nevi, I want to tell you that it is very justified, then I want to try to express my thought correctly. And so, let's start with the fact that Risley is an exception for Nevillet in terms of intimacy. Canonically (it is said to the developers) that Nevi does not have close relationships with people, but as the judge himself tells us (literally from the beginning of plot 4.1) “I have close relationships with Risley" (Not exactly, but that’s the gist of it; those who have gone through the story will understand), this should already make us understand that the relationship between them is completely different, not the same as others. Next, Risley begins to talk about Nevi before introducing himself and helping us ONLY because we are friends of Nevillet, out of trust and respect for him.Only for this reason. I think that if we had come from someone else, they would have persecuted us with sled rags. The Duke himself says the following: “I am ready to do anything extra, just to prove my respect and trust in Nevillet.” This is 100% canon, let's move on.

We can see how the relationship between the Duke and the judge is again different, since Risley, one might say, was the only one who believed that he would cope with the task, again, the level of trust is extremely high. Next, the same scene with the word “wow”. Risley was really joking, BUT he did it because he is essentially such a person, and also did you see his face while he was looking at Hydro Dragon? We all saw his smile too. Admiration, that’s how I would describe it. He trusts Nevi and knows that he will do everything as needed (by the way, in the original voice acting he still breathes when he looks at Nevi).

Next, we will look at a romantic trope that is very popular in France: Two people under one umbrella in the rain. This always means something romantic. You can see this technique in the animated series “Lady Bug and the Super Cat”. In one of the episodes, Marinette did not want to leave the school building because of the rain, but then Adrian appears with an umbrella and a scene occurs between them long staring contests. As a result, Adrian gives up his umbrella and leaves, and Marinette falls in love. As we know, they are a canon couple, so one umbrella for two is a very popular romantic trope. This happened with Risley and Nevi. The Duke does not like to rise from under the water, but at the first call from the judge, he goes to talk to him in the rain and finds him standing alone on the side of the road. Risley holds an umbrella over him, two under one umbrella. (you can find this out from his voiceline about Nevillet). Can I not talk about the fact that they constantly talk about each other and tell the traveler how much they trust each other. What did I want to say? This ship has a canonical basis. More than.

But the same Risley and Clorinda do not. We know nothing at all about their relationship at all. Outside the plot, nothing is known about their relationship (and in the plot too), the creators did not bother to leave at least something. People who ship really like to take phrases out of context, “Miss Clorinda. My door,” for example. These people have to cut or glue something to make their pairing work, while Risley and Nevi shippers don't have to do anything, we've already been given everything on a platter. The only argument of Risley and Clorinda shippers is “They look good; Risley flirts with Clorinda (I didn’t see a single moment like that, maybe you can show me?). Oh, he invited her to have tea (he asked Nevi and us to stay for tea. Man obsessed with tea, leave him, he offers it to everyone)." I never heard anything intelligible, to be honest.

Just because it’s hetero, that’s all. There are no more arguments. People like to invent things that don’t exist. And why doesn't anyone talk about Clorinda and Navia? In terms of, my women deserve more attention. They make sense and their relationship is revealed to us. Clorinda is so worried about Navya and makes sure that nothing happens to her at all, my moms were finally able to go to a cafe together in a long time! They were also together in an animation about the beach. Together all the time, and more recently in the plot. I want to say one thing, you can certainly ship whatever you want, but don't tell people who ship more reasonable pairings that yours is canon simply because the characters interacted in the plot and that's it, without having any additional canon information, and everything is yours" the arguments "are made up from thin air.

Them🥰 (there should be another photo there, but alas, I didn’t download it)

[flawlesskiri]

i HATED maurice and clive together and yes, i will elaborate.

first of all, i didn't really like the film as a whole: the sequence of the scenes were really odd and a little confusing, in the first 25 minutes anything happens and then it's all calm, then again lots of things happen one after another and then again, it's all calm, almost making it a little boring, cuz nothing really happens. there could've been better transitions to make it look like it amalgamates better.

second of all, clive and maurice's relationship was so rushed and messy, and we saw them kiss like what? three times? and clive, oh clive. he was the one that started everything between the two of them and still from the start you could tell that even after his words, he wouldn't have fought for their love. then he left maurice alone, wondering about his whole existence without any true explanation, not even a bit of empathy was shown towards his feelings and then clive DENIED everything while faking their whole friendship as if maurice wouldn't have sold his soul to the Devil for him. not ever a single "how are you?" was asked, not ever he worried about what maurice wanted. he constantly invited him to his house where there was the woman he married and was moving on with while acting as if nothing happened and he was living his best life, like WHAT ?? RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS FACE !! the only times clive spoke to maurice it was just him telling maurice that everything was okay, life was better for the both of them and they were happy. he was gaslighting the both of them into HIS narrative. again, not ever he asked "how is it going for you? are you okay?". listen, i get, i really do. i am very much aware of the time they lived in, and i do understand the fear and trauma he faced after risley's scandal, but was it really necessary to treat the man he LOVED the way that he did? like, what the fuck. what. the. actual. fuck. he treated him so bad that i was almost happy that maurice ended up with alec.

now, let's move on onto alec and maurice: alec's character was kind of all over the place and came from literally nowhere and their realtionship was so weird? you could tell that alec seemed much younger than maurice and the window scene? the window scene... it was so creepy, "i know you were calling for me, sir", WHO ARE YOU EVEN? for alec, it could've made sense to love maurice cuz he said that he wanted him since the very first time he ever saw him, but maurice? he said he was in love with him after spending together two nights and one day in which alec tried to report him to the authorities, it doesn't make any sense !! there's no plot, there's no story, and no connection at all between the two of them other than the fact that they're both gay. they don't even have any common interest, it was so random. it seemed like maurice threw himself in the arms of that young boy just cuz he thought that he wouldn't have been able to find someone else that would've loved him with the same intensity that he himself loved others. and at the same time, it seemed like he did it in spite of clive, cuz it was the first things that he did! he first went to his house just to let him know that "by the way, i am in love, and with a man! yes, exactly, that could've been you and instead, it is your ostler! you've not only lost me forever, but i also stole your servant!", and only then he went to alec.

there's really no love story here, just a man suffering for his "illness", and i think the film captured this pretty well: the agony of being a homosexual at that time. that's the actual plot, and you get to see how people managed to live with it, how others viewed it and how they reacted; you get to see both sides of the coin. we see what happens when they get caught, we see how the first doctor doesn't want to hear about any of it and it's just like "i know you and this isn't you, get a woman that makes you come back to your sense", and then we see another doctor that's just doing what he's being paid for, but even he knows that one can't escape his nature, as he says, so he suggest his client to go to another state where he can be who he truly is. he's not impressed or grossed out, he know that that's just the way things are. i think the director did a pretty good job at this, it was a really sad film.

so, what did i like about this film? i liked the photography, i liked the dark academia vibes, i liked the sets, i liked the costumes and the characters, cuz all taken individually you can fully analize them, which i find very fun to do: why they are they way that they are and why they did the things that they did. i watched the film dubbed in my own lenguage so i didn't get to experience the full performance, but even with that i could tell that the actors were very talented and i adored the way they played their characters.

i think im done, i needed to get all this out of my chest (i am on my period).

[lboogie1906]

Moses Gunn (October 2, 1929 – December 16, 1993) was an actor on stage and screen. An Obie Award-winning stage player, he co-founded the Negro Ensemble Company in the 1960s. His 1962 Off-Broadway debut was in Jean Genet’s The Blacks, and his Broadway debut was in A Hand is on the Gate, an evening of African American poetry. He was nominated for a Tony Award as Best Actor for The Poison Tree and played Othello on Broadway.

He graduated from Tennessee State University where he became a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity, after serving in the Army, he went to graduate school at Kansas University, gaining an MA. He taught at Grambling College before attempting an acting career in New York City.

He may be remembered in the film for his portrayal of mobster Ellsworth Raymond “Bumpy” Jonas in the first two Shaft movies, Booker T. Washington in the movie Ragtime, a performance which won him an NAACP Image Award, and as Cairon, the Childlike Empress’ imperial physician, in the film The Never Ending Story. He was nominated for an Emmy Award for his role in the television mini-series Roots. He co-starred with Avery Brooks on the television series A Man Called Hawk. He appeared in six episodes as atheist shop owner Carl Dixon on Good Times, as boxer-turned-farmer Joe Kagan on Little House on the Prairie, and as “Moses Gage” in Father Murphy. He appeared in two episodes of The Cosby Show as two different characters. His final acting role was as murder suspect Risley Tucker in “Three Men and Adena”, an episode of Homicide: Life on the Street. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #omegapsiphi

[addieieieie]

What do you do in the circus???

so! every year i've been in it, i've always done unicycle, diabolo, and teeterboard. usually i'll also do another act, but those are my core three.

HOWEVER none of those work with my schedule this year, so this circus season i'm doing flex (a combination of pyramid acrobatics, tumbling, and contortion), risley duo (partner ground acrobatics), juggling, and handbalancing. i MIGHT be doing an aerial act or two, but i don't know yet.

[nagirambles]

asdaskjlk okay thank you for the permission here is a cliff notes version

Jude Heartfilia was part of the efforts that discovered and politically dismantled the dark guild and managed to get them properly punished, then distributed the children. (Because they're nobles and that's their duty)

All that is included in the work Jude threw himself in and neglected Lucy to do. Because of this, Lucy already held a secret sort of unhappy sentiment towards those children. Jude cared more about them than his own child, was what she used to think. So, she was also very apprehensive of meeting them.

Those children, however, have a conflicted respect for the Heartfilia name, because they were the biggest contributors to helping them be free from the labs.

The kids are born and raised in the facility, 'made' and 'designed' to be soldiers. All of them specialize in different things, not necessarily fighting. Though I said 'they're made to imitate Zeref's demons' I meant more in the 'they're artificially created living beings' rather than parallels between them and actual demons ok

I haven't actually fully confirmed who the 8 are yet. For now it's Levy Mcgarden, Hibiki Laytis, Jura Neekis, Risley Law, and Millianna.

Since they are artificially-created people, they would have difficulty understanding how humans are supposed to live. I think it would be really cool to see the different relationship Levy and Hibiki have with love, giving love, and receiving love.

They are codenamed after planets, and their current names are given by the people that volunteered to adopt them from the aforementioned efforts to assimilate them in society.

There are only eight of them in official records because Millianna got lost in transit I'm sorry. She has to get to TOH somehow.

The 'powers' they have are honestly hard to figure out for me and is the main reason they're not a story yet. Jura, for example, has the ability of absolute authority-- he was made the oldest, to lead this team of monsters, and he has the authority to make every freeze and listen to his orders. (Of course, this power is an extreme version of his charisma in nirvana arc.)

Levy, specifically, was made meek-and-protectable-looking because she was designed to die first. She's the one that goes into enemy territory, straight through to set off all the traps, when we don't have time to dismantle or walk around them. She would be perhaps a doll, a cyborg or an android, living barely human and sustained by magic-- she was made as a decoy unit to be destroyed so they can put her back together to do it again.

I thought that up while thinking of her role in Phantom Lord honestly. She was the first one to get hurt, essentially being the plot device that sets the act in motion. All of their powers are meant to parallel something (or expand/jade-ify) things they've already done before in canon.

It's hard to find powers that don't necessarily overlap with magic.

The whole concept of this story is these children, who have been used and thrown into battle as weapons their whole life-- finding a place (a guild) where they slowly learn that their lives have value beyond utility, a place to be loved and protected, and not be expected to do life-risking missions for food. It just seems like a good direction to take a story where the thesis statement is family, home, safety, and belonging.

Lucy is, of course, meant to be the insert character, delving into this foreign world from a place of ignorance. She slowly grows past her biases, and we learn more about them as the story goes on.

Hi rambles I was wondering what WIPS are you working on ? If you don’t wanna answer this no worries !

Oh damn this question. I have quite a few ideas stuffed in my drafts that I couldn't churn out if my life depended on it but here's a quick once-over of the vague stuff in my drafts that are too bits and pieces to become a coherent piece on ao3

#Regarding Chef Lucy - where Lucy aspires to be a chef, rather than a writer. She's a little unhinged when it comes to rare recipes, bushfire cooking, and figuring out how dragon slayers eating elements work. It's based on an old anon ask I answered that continued to a chain.

Thanks for Tuning In! - a radio-format fic where Levy runs Fairy Tail's official B-cube account (that's an Eden's Zero thing, but we're still in FT don't get it wrong) and guild shenanigans ensue in snippets, chaotic live-streamer style.

If an Insert story was written like a Manhwa - someone (implied to be a sage-old jaded warrior from another fantasy dimension) gets transmigrated into Cana Alberona shortly after her mother died, and they have a body-sharing situation as Cana makes her way to Fairy Tail. Thus far we have met very pre-canon Jura and have been adopted by a local trading group that love her fortune-telling luck.

Luck be in the Air Tonight (One Piece x Fairy Tail) - set post-tartaros. Instead of staying in Crocus as a journalist, Lucy sets out to an alternate dimension to seek out Aquarius’ key. She follows the Strawhats on this journey as their Chronicler.

Through Hardships to the Stars - a dark guild that dabbled in human experimentation created eight pseudo-etherios 'human weapons' meant to imitate the demons of Zeref's book but never succeeded. After that guild was destroyed, those children were spread out between guilds around Fiore to 'rehabilitate' them into human society. Lucy joins Fairy Tail, only to learn belatedly that Levy Mcgarden is one of those children. The public sees them as monsters unsafe to wander the world without a leash. This story was mainly made because I wanted to give less-used characters a chance to shine. (None of the eight children are dragon slayers.)

So there we go! That's them all. If anyone's interested I can continue rambling about them ig

[thewidowstanton]

Esmeralda Nikolajeff, flyer and acrobat, Barely Methodical Troupe: Shift

Swedish circus artist Esmeralda Nikolajeff – who comes from Stockholm – knew she wanted to be an acrobat from the age of two. She started circus as a tiny child with Circus Cirkör, and at 14 took part in Monte Carlo’s 20th Première Rampe festival. She went on to train at DOCH School of Dance and Circus in Stockholm and, since graduating in 2014, has appeared all over the world, working mostly in duos or trios and “learning new ways of being thrown and getting caught”.

Esmeralda chats to Liz Arratoon before her appearance in Barely Methodical Troupe’s third show, Shift, which also features Elihú Vázquez and BMT co-founders Charlie Wheeller and Louis Gift. It was commissioned by the Norfolk and Norwich Festival – which co-produced it with DREAM – as part of the celebrations for the 250th anniversary of the birth of British circus. Shift has its world premiere at the Spiegeltent in Chapelfield Gardens in Norwich. It runs from 16-27 May 2018.

The Widow Stanton: Is Stockholm your home? Esmeralda Nikolajeff: More or less. I have a home there but I’ve been renting it out for two years, so I’m more or less living on the road. It’s a love/hate relationship… it’s complex… it’s great and it’s nice to not have to pay rent. It allows me to travel more. But little by little I’m getting a bit worn out by it. I’m starting to miss my home and my own things and my own space, but it’s fine. It’s still working out.

Had you seen any circus at two to put the idea in your head? That’s such a good question that my parents also ask themselves. They don’t really know. I guess I must have seen something, like picked something up from somewhere. But it wasn’t like we went to a circus show and then I knew. When I told them I wanted to be ‘aerial acrobat’ they were like: “How does she even know those words? Where did it come from?” No one knows.

Is there any showbusiness in your family? Yes, when I was a kid my dad was doing theatre and my mum was creating and producing music. When I was around seven my dad actually got into circus himself because he got quite inspired by me doing it. Then he was out of work and he got an opportunity to work in this Swedish circus, Cirkus Cirkör, in the offices and teaching kids how to do forward rolls and cartwheels and stuff like that. Then he got into the circus scene and he thought it was way more fun than doing theatre. So he just started to practise and now he’s a knife-thrower and a chainsaw juggler. He’s called Jesper.

Where is your name from? My dad’s father was from Russia. He came to Sweden by train when he was four years old during World War II. He was a child in the middle of the war zone so he was evacuated and went into a foster family in Sweden.

Do you do any other disciplines? I do a bunch of different things. At DOCH my main discipline was duo trapeze, so trapeze flyer is what I do the most. And then lately, the past two years, I’ve been doing a lot of flying in Icarian Games [Risley], basically flipping on people’s feet. As my side discipline I’ve always been an acrobat. I love doing floor acrobatics and movements, and as I’m quite a tiny person I’ve always been a flyer in all kinds of scenarios… banquine and hand to hand and things like that.

Before you went to DOCH, how did you start doing circus? First I went to a circus course in Stockholm at Cirkus Cirkör. I started when I was four years old in this little kids’ circus place. Then when I was around seven I told my dad that it was frustrating for me to just train because I wanted to perform. He was like, “Ooh, OK,” and he found a bunch of other kids who also wanted to perform, and we created a youth circus group. So it was like, me and between 10 and 15 other kids who were the youth circus group of Cirkus Cirkör, for some years. Then we kept on growing as a youth circus. My dad was in charge of it and we were training like two or three times a week, and then we did quite a lot of shows. All the money we pulled in with the shows went to the teachers and the facilities at Cirkör, so on Sundays we had the whole training space to ourselves. For the kids it was free to go to the circus classes but we performed a lot.

I did that from when I was seven to about 15, and then I did Circus Cirkör’s circus high school as well. My trapeze catcher is three years older than me and I was a bit tired of normal school so I really wanted to start the circus university with her. But at most circus universities you need a degree from high school, so I was thinking, ‘Maybe I can do it faster?’. I asked my school if I could just go faster and they were like: “We don’t really know but I guess you can try.” [Laughs] So then I did four years of school in two years, and yeah, I graduated early and started DOCH when I was 17.

With your trapeze partner? Yes, Mira Leonard.

Were you with her at the Première Rampe? Yes, it was the youth version of the Monte Carlo circus festival, which happens a month before the adult one. We didn't win gold, silver or bronze, but we did receive some kind of trophy. I think they gave everyone one as a prize just for taking part. I don't really remember how it went, I was so young [laughs] but it was a very interesting experience; all these Chinese, Russian and Mongolian children, and us! We were amazed by how heavily drilled all those tiny kids were, because we just did circus for the fun of it.

Was it because you were tiny that you became flyer or what made you choose it? Being tiny helped a lot. I was always the smallest and lightest person in my class, so I was just used to climbing on people. But then I was also just this little reckless child. I would stand on the highest furniture and jump off and be like, ‘CATCH ME!’. And my parents would have to run through the apartment and slide on the floor and save me from dying. [Laughs] So I guess I had like the adrenaline-rush-addictive part of me already as a child.

What advice would you give to someone wanting to take up flying? You have to be brave… For sure, you have to be brave but more so you have to be a very trusting person. What I see with a lot of people who aren’t that good at flying is that if someone says: “It’s fine, I’ll catch you,” they don’t believe them. But for me, if someone says that, I trust them to have the good judgment of knowing that they can catch me; maybe not perfectly but so that I don’t injure myself gravely. So [laughs] it’s a lot about just believing in what people say. Hearing: “Yeah, I think this is safe to try,” I go, ‘You think so? OK, then I think so, too’. That’s a very big part of it.

We’ve noticed that DOCH produces really excellent artists; why do you think that is? When I was going to choose circus schools I was really doubting whether I wanted to do DOCH, because in one way I wanted to move aboard and experience a school in a different country. But in the end I chose DOCH because there’s something about the vibe there that is very welcoming; it’s kind of a light, happy vibe that I get from that place, and my coach in trapeze – Christian Vippen Vilppola – was very positive and very encouraging, whereas a lot of coaches… because we auditioned and we got into other schools and other coaches were a bit more Russian style, never say that anything’s good. If someone’s more or less OK, then you know you did it really well. I don’t really believe in that method of learning things, and that’s one thing that really helps at DOCH that in general it’s quite a positive vibe.

Then it has good reputation so the people applying there are already quite good, and the level of the students has to be pretty good before they start. And then we had quite intensive training. We’d have a lot of different ways of doing things and the school is constantly adapting to each year. They don’t have one way of doing things. For example, our class was really into movement and dance, and we had a lot of ideas about different dance teachers and choreographers that we’d like to have as guest teachers. So we students could suggest: “Oh, this person, from this country is really cool, could we maybe have a workshop with them?” The school would be like: “We’ll look into it,” and after that it would happen. Then we’d have a block of two weeks with this teacher, and I think that’s something that’s really special about DOCH that they do listen to their students’ feedback a lot. They constantly try to adapt to the students’ needs. The year below us was more into theatre and stage acting so they had more of that.

We also had a lot of discipline hours, I think two hours a day of our main discipline and then – I don’t remember – some hours a week with our second discipline, and everyone had acrobatics and I, as a flyer, had two hours a week of trampoline for a year or two to practise the different things I do in the air. Also what we did a lot, we had a lot of presentations. Basically we’d have presentations every other Friday, and we’d get different tasks each time, so we learnt that we had to produce material and ideas. Of course, it cannot always become something good if you have to do it every other week and you’re always tired from training all the time. So then it forces us to learn to fail, and it’s OK and that you can learn a lot from failure. I think that’s such an important thing for artists in general, to not be afraid of trying out ideas that could fail. That’s something they really encourage us to do as well; to not always succeed.

What sort of things have you done since graduating? I graduated almost four year ago and since then I’ve been doing so many different things. Like, each project has been quite a new experience, so I’ve done everything from… the year I graduated I was working quite a lot in Sweden at Cirkus Cirkör, with the Christmas show, and then I did a show called Borders with them, which celebrated their 20-year anniversary. But also they thought: “We can’t only celebrate in times like this,” so it was a show about borders and refugees. There were 19 people on stage and it was a mix between actors, circus artists and musicians. It was a sort of WOW project that lasted four months and then it was over.

Then I did a site-specific show on an island in Denmark. It’s an island that was man-made to build ships on, so we were exploring it. We did a bit of acrobatics but there wasn’t much circus; it was a dance choreographer who made the work. It was really interesting and we learnt a lot about how to take in different environments and how to relate to them. It was a promenade show. Then I did a show in Berlin for six months…

At the Chamäleon? Yes exactly. It was called Roots with the Czech company Cirq La Putyka. We played it in Prague maybe 50 times as well. Last year I had more of a year doing my own projects with my friends. We did one show that we performed a bit in Berlin and a bit in Oregon. We were called The Leftover Company. It was something that happened after performing a lot in Berlin and seeing all these leftover people everywhere so we took inspiration from that. We thought how can we make Icarian Games more leftover-y; we created a lot of crash acro, basically, and wobbly acro.

Wobbly is a bit of a trend… Yeah, I feel it has to do with people being a bit tired of being so rigid and perfect. They just want to be a bit more loose. It’s fun because there are so many different ways of doing it. We have a trapeze act where I’m kind of all limp, which we did in Roots, but this crash acro is really more explosive, like, kind of aggressive crashes. [Laughs]  

How did you get involved with Barely Methodical Troupe? I met those guys at the wedding of some friends of ours in Australia. It was Dan and Rhiannon Cave-Walker’s wedding, who were in my year in DOCH. After the wedding we hung out for a bit and were acro-jamming on the beach. Then BMT contacted me and asked if I might be interested in joining their next show. I was like, ‘Yeah!’.

Have you seen their other shows? No, I haven’t but as the circus world is so small, and so many friends of mine have, it seems like I have and I can imagine what they were like. I’d really like to see them. They are very fun to work with, very easy to work with and very encouraging and motivated. In general there’s this positive, fun, playful vibe going around, which, without seeing their shows, I can imagine translates to the stage.

Are you able to you tell us anything about the new show? I won’t say too much. We’ve been inventing new acts and working a lot with elastic bands, Thera-bands, the kind they usually use for rehab. So we have quite a lot of them in the show and in general we’ve been working a lot with elasticity. Throughout this process I actually learnt how to say that word because for me it was a very hard word to say [laughs] so I’m very proud every time I manage it.

Can you pick out some highlights from your career so far? Yes, a lot of things, but I must say the Chamäleon contract in Berlin was a really life-changing experience, also because I got to stay in one city for half a year and have stable work and do 180 shows in a row. That’s a quite insane thing to do. I don’t know if I could it again but I’m very glad I did it. So that was one highlight and then this past year I’ve been doing a show – Knekke Greine – together with my friends in the forest. It’s a show where we encourage people to remember that we have go out into nature and explore the woods even though you live in the city. It’s a very interactive performance and it’s more of a forest/nature guided walk with a lot of crazy interactions happening all around. The creation was just in the woods in Sweden so that’s been really fun.

Esmeralda appears in the world premiere of Barely Methodical Troupe’s Shift at the Spiegeltent in Chapelfield Gardens during the Norfok and Norwich Festival from 16-27 May 2018.

Picture credits: Headshot, Di Robson; Shift, Chris Nash; wobbly trapeze, Einar Kling-Odencrants

For Shift tickets click here

Esmeralda on Facebook and Barely Methodical Troupe’s website

Twitter: @BMTroupe @NNFest

Follow @TheWidowStanton on Twitter

Read our archive interviews with BMT’s Charlie Wheeller and Louis Gift

[blowuponabruise]

Okay! so in honour of maurice's birthday being today (thank you @maladyofreverie for finding out the exact date!) here is the drinking game me and my friends will be playing tonight

1 shot (or big gulp) everytime:

there is a longing stare between characters

risley is treated like shit

someone says 'hall'

maurice acts gay

rupert graves' accent transports you straight to somerset

simcox has a snooty look

richard robbins' soundtrack makes you emotional (hard mode)

scudder has Prolonged Eye Contact

clive is an ass

2 shots for:

'the ladies'

clive's gay run

the wicker chair

any trivia about the film you or your friend might happen to say

please feel free to play this game or add any suggestions! clive heckling is very much encouraged in this

[girlbossminerva]

MERMAID HEEL GUILD SALT

Aside from all the other guilds, Mermaid Heel is a guild that only accepts those of the female gender as said by Millianna who said those two (Sho, and Wally) couldn't join even if they wanted to, and men acting as women would possibly fuck up the guild's reputation, honestly the feeling of an all girls guild just gives me life, maybe even fanfic ideas but aside from that.

These characters aren't all that needed or should I say are just around for Mashima to say he believes in feminism, he has another concept as to what feminism is.

One of the girls who is chubby, has the ability to... change her body with her gravity magic into the same body template used for all the others girls, and says, "Don't underestimate chubby power."

"Uh, you ain't even chubby in this form..." - Me.

Arana Webb, should have just been a spider girl, fast asf reflexes and a nice sense of style, but... oh god, oneshot, and shes out???

Where is y'all guild master??

Millianna got bigger tiddies, that's it. And a hoe-ified outfit, sorry if it sounds rude but her outfit before the seven year shit.

Kagura... WHERE'D YOU EVEN COME FROM???

And the little one, can barely remember her name uhh, guess your alright...

As a concept mermaid heel can be interesting to explore specially when, like me, you headcanon it being a sapphic only/majority guild but yeah, It's just Mashima kind of going "yes, I'm a feminist, now stop looking i how i overly sexualize every single female character under the sun." And just like most characters introduced in the gmg they don't get enough time to develop properly and fully outside of like kagura, which is debatable.

The chubby girl is Risley and FUCK DO I HATE THE WAY HER MAGIC WORKS. IT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE, IF IT'S GRAVITY MAGIC AND IT TURNS HER SKINNY DOES THAT MEAN HER ENTIRE BODY IS BEING FORCED TO BE UNDER MASSIVE GRAVITATIONAL PRESSURE OR SOMETHING?? HOW DO HER ORGANS SURVIVE THAT?? It makes no sense, he should just admit that he hates fat people

Araña is my niche beloved actually, i have created her entire characterization in my head. First of all she's Hispanic (dominicana), second she's one of those people who are so chill that you can't help but also feel relaxed in her presence, third she likes crocheting and makes sweaters for her friends, and fourth she has a collection of pet spiders plus a prying mantis. Also yes, she's basically spiderman and she would have lasted longer in that damn battle.

I actually kind of redesigned millianna's outfit a while back, thought I did trace the oficial art cause my drawing skills are minimal. Is it great? No, but it does have more personality than the literal underwear she's put on post-time skip. And the little one that has farm girl vibes is Beth, she honestly is just there cause the teams are meant to have 5 people in them.

Now Kagura I do love, mostly because she's too gay to function when around Erza and I do love me some sword ladies, but thinking about her role in the story, she does suffer from the "not enough time to develop this" issue. She's just suddenly popped into the universe to kind of acknowledge again Jellal's crimes (which, is it necessary if that is all his character is about?) and half-heartedly attempt to talk about them but yeah, it was fucking stupid that suddenly simon had a sister, it would've made more sense if she was one of the enslaved kids or something.

[yfere]

So OK, there's SO much to say, but specifically the expectation of RESPECT and GRATITUDE that the upper class possess in Maurice is so wild, it's fucking everywhere. In one deleted scene, head of household mrs Durham is having a little Christmas party and being oh-so-charitable by giving the servants presents. And there's this little servant's child who doesn't thank her, and what does Mrs. Durham do? She threatens to TAKE AWAY the present until she is thanked. It's a power play of the worst sort, and the child does begrudgingly thank her so she can get the present.

And of course this attitude is everywhere--it's in Simcox's veiled hostility towards his employers, it's in Anne talking about Clive being a "friend to the poor, if only they knew it," it's in Clive saying oh he'll play cricket to "please these people." It's why what Alec and Maurice choose to call each other is so important, and at various times a point of contention between them. Who is entitled to respect, or gratitude?

And Maurice as a middle class (albeit upper middle class!) character, whose family is pushing for more upwards mobility--it's so fascinating, because he sort of bounces around this line of respectability and entitlement throughout the story. Utterly dismissive of the working class one moment, helping move pianos and having friendly conversations about Argentina the next. One scene that drives me wild though... You see, the closest analogue to what Mrs. Durham did to the servant's girl is what the Dean did to Maurice. The crime Maurice committed, in the Dean's eyes, was nothing more or less than not paying him proper respect by speaking with him when called to, and not apologizing abjectly afterwards. He threatens to end Maurice's academic career if he isn't apologized to--and with it Maurice's shot at the upwards mobility in class his family was aiming for. As if his education was a gift he must always act grateful for, and which the Dean is entitled to take away merely for not showing him proper respect. Maurice says he'd never have been booted if he'd cut class for a girl--but that was never the point. The reason he was targeted so harshly for "disrespect" was because he is only middle class--Clive is never in any danger from the Dean, nor was Lord Risley who was flagrantly impudent to the Dean's face. And WHY needn't they fear? Because they're upper class, that's why.

[mauriceclivealec]

sorry if ppl may have already asked you this but, i've watched the movie recently and felt like a lot of intimate moments between clive and maurice aren't shown onscreen to us? had they been lovers until risley was arrested, the fight and clive's travel? did clive cheat on anne? they were probably seeing each other between 1910 and 1911, right? i'm sorry for the amount of questions but i'm rly curious djdj

Clive and Maurice never have physical intimacy. That’s one of the central points of the story – in E. M Forster’s novel and in James Ivory’s film. For three years, Maurice and Clive have a ‘platonic’ – i.e. sexless, non-physical – relationship. 

This is a central reason why Clive is ultimately wrong for Maurice, and why Maurice finds happiness with Alec.

Even though Forster was writing in 1913-14, at a date when any hint of sex between men was illegal in the UK and punishable by imprisonment – and he wrote Maurice as a 35-year-old gay virgin who did not believe he would ever be able to have a physical relationship legally in his lifetime – he did a brave thing. He wrote a novel which shows that physical/sexual love between men is healthy and normal – not sick – and he gave his lovers who form a physical relationship, Maurice and Alec, a happy ending, without punishment. 

Maurice is also a novel in which two contrasting 1910s attitudes to same-sex love between men are debated (lots has been written about this), and this is where Clive fits in. 

Clive’s stated position (born out of self-repression and/or fear) is that same-sex love between men is only acceptable IF there is no sex. (Remember the film discussion on the punt in Cambridge, where Risley calls Clive ‘cold as a fish on a marble slab’?)

One key film scene where this is made really clear is when Maurice and Clive drive out into the Fens near Cambridge and lie down in the grass. It’s clear thar Maurice wants to take things further physically (check out James Wilby’s acting!) – but Clive will not even let Maurice kiss him properly on the mouth, and when Maurice tries to put a hand inside Clive’s shirt, Clive stops him. Clive says: ��I think it would bring us down’. 

Similarly, the point of the scene in the novel (= the deleted film scene titled ‘The night before Greece’), where Clive asks Maurice if he can climb into bed with him, is that this is torment for Maurice because Clive won’t permit anything physical, although it’s a torment that (after 3 years of this) Maurice has trained himself to accept:

"I'm cold and miserable generally. I can't sleep. I don't know why."

Maurice did not misunderstand [Clive]. He knew and [had convinced himself by now that he] shared [Clive’s] opinions on this point. They lay side by side without touching. Presently Clive said, "It's no better here. I shall go." Maurice was not sorry, for he could not get to sleep either, though for a different reason, and he was afraid Clive might hear the drumming of his heart, and guess what it was. (Maurice, end of Ch 21)

Incidentally, in a letter to Forster written as early as 1915, Lytton Strachey (one of the trusted friends to whom Forster had lent an early draft of Maurice to read) questioned why Maurice puts up with this from Clive. “He [Maurice] was a strong healthy youth ... how the Dickens could Clive restrain him?”

Forster implies that Clive’s marriage to Anne, too, is more or less sexless, and certainly passionless:

So much could never be mentioned. He never saw her naked, nor she him. They ignored the reproductive and the digestive functions. (Maurice, end of Ch 33)

And, in the closing scenes, when Maurice returns to Penge/Pendersleigh by night to tell Clive his news about Alec before disappearing for ever from Clive’s life, Clive’s entire reaction is to treat physical sex between men as wrong. Clive recoils from the joy Maurice (and Forster) can’t resist sharing:

"I have shared with Alec," [Maurice] said after deep thought.

"Shared what?"

"All I have. Which includes my body."

Clive sprang up with a whimper of disgust. ... [H]is thin, sour disapproval, his dogmatism, the stupidity of his heart, revolted Maurice, who could only have respected hatred.

"I put it offensively," [Maurice] went on, "but I must make sure you understand. Alec slept with me in the Russet Room that night when you and Anne were away."

"Maurice—oh, good God!"

"Also in town. Also—" here he stopped.

Even in his nausea Clive turned to a generalization – it was part of the mental vagueness induced by his marriage. "But surely—the sole excuse for any relationship between men is that it remain purely platonic."

"I don't know. I've come to tell you what I did."

(Maurice, Ch 46)

[lover-of-trash-and-people]

Re:

I have a headache. I am crying at a partially happy ending. I am a turncoat for I have become a Clive sympathiser. I hate him for what he did to Maurice. And to himself. But my heart feels heavy for him. When Risley was convicted, I felt the fear that Clive felt. I felt his sorrow. And I understand he did what he did to protect himself. But, it doesn’t mean that I forgive him. I am pleasantly surprised at a country that at the time still had criminal laws against same sex sexual acts between consenting adults giving me a movie that had a happy ending for a gay couple. It was a beautiful film, overall. The way it was shot, the way the characters and the relationships were developed, how well it was casted, how well the actors handled their roles, and just how it made me feel. I cried several times throughout. I do wish they had developed Alec and Maurice’s relationship a tad bit more. Same-sex relationships portrayed in media without any mental connection beyond the physical attraction stuff between the people do seem a little half-hearted. Also, warning for anybody who is going to be watching this: there are more than one full frontals. But I suppose it added to the authenticity of it all. I am glad this movie was made. I got to see Hugh Grant in something other than a 90s/00s rom-com. I saw Greg Lestrade play something I never would have imagined he could. Also saw his dick. I was introduced to James Wilby. I also just found out it was based on a book which was inspired by a real-life couple. I am glad they could find each other under such terrifying circumstances.

[evening-primroses]

On one hand I get why they had to change Clive's motivations for the movie but I feel like Forster was intentionally making him unlikable for a reason and changing his story misses the point. I don't think the book wants us to feel at all bad that this relationship failed in the end as it even says explicitly that by the time Clive kisses Maurice's hand he doesn't care for him anymore but the movie makes it seem like he's still conflicted about Clive vs. Alec?? when he's not at all!!

!!! I totally agree. like I understand why the filmmakers felt they had to introduce the risley arrest and trial plotline to make clive's change more believable, but when I read the book, I didnt find it too weird that he changed without some sort of catalyst? bec like imo clive's internalized homophobia and repression were pretty big enough reasons

and with maurice's emotions being clearer in the book v. film is also true, like in the book you do have that sort of space to really go into depth what your character is feeling, and in the movie, the actor has to express or imply it. and I just love how james wilby acts in that hand kissing scene like you can really see that maurice is uncomfortable with clive holding his hand and he just wants him to leave. I feel like you get sense of a clive v. Alec conflict esp during the cricket scene, where after alec bats, clive comes in and maurice is glad to see him, which I found odd too like I thought he didnt care for him at this point like forster says, but a part of me thinks this is maurice trying to hold on to something familiar in a time where he's confused about what he feels for someone else? like I'm not saying he wants to be friends or is still in love with clive, but that he just needs some sort of anchor while he's trying to figure out the emotions he feels for alec, if that makes sense

and then when clive and maurice have a communication gap in cricket, maurice realises that he can't rely on clive for anything, not friendship, love, or emotional support, which again furthers the fact that he doesn't care for clive anymore

[papermoonloveslucy]

VACATION TIME

April 29, 1949

“Vacation Time” (aka “Trailer Vacation to Goosegrease Lake”) is episode #41 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on April 29, 1949 on the CBS radio network.

Synopsis ~ It's vacation time, and Liz and George have decidedly different plans. He wants to go camping with a trailer he borrowed from a friend, while she's set on a glamorous vacation at Moosehead Lodge.

This episode later partly inspired the premise of “Liz Learns To Swim” aired on June 11, 1950. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) and Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) do not appear in this episode. 

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Frank Nelson (Policeman) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. This is one of his 11 performances on “My Favorite Husband.”  On “I Love Lucy” he holds the distinction of being the only actor to play two recurring roles: Freddie Fillmore and Ralph Ramsey, as well as six one-off characters, including the frazzled train conductor in “The Great Train Robbery” (ILL S5;E5), a character he repeated on “The Lucy Show.”  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs.  

Wally Maher (Joe Risley) was born on August 4, 1908 in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was known for Mystery Street (1950), The Reformer and the Redhead (1950) and Hollywood Hotel (1937). He was heard with Lucille Ball in the Lux Radio Theatre version of “The Dark Corner” (1947), taking the role originated on film by William Bendix. He died on December 27, 1951.

Milton Stark (Filling Station Attendant) was a theatre actor and director, who also appeared on radio and television, although usually in supporting roles.  He also worked as a dialogue coach and acting teacher. At UCLA a scholarship was established in his name. He lived to the age of 103. 

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers, it is a cold rainy afternoon, but Liz is in her bedroom standing in front of the mirror wearing a back-less, strapless sun dress.” 

Liz calls Katie in to show off her sun dress, but Katie is disapproving that is so revealing.  Liz has shopped for summer vacation clothes.  Liz’s bathing suit cost’s forty dollars. 

KATIE: “That’s a lot of money for two doilies and a diaper.” 

Liz says that husbands only approve of scanty swimsuits when they are on any woman but their wives. 

LIZ: “I want to look good for George. He’s going to see a lot of me this summer.” KATIE: “He’s not the only one!”  

The topic of revealing bathing suits was later also mined for comedy on “I Love Lucy.”  In “Off To Florida” (ILL S6;E6) Ricky thinks Lucy’s new skimpy new swimsuit is for Little Ricky!  Lucy also buys a swimsuit that Ricky feels is too skimpy when shopping for their California trip in “Getting Ready” (ILL S4;E11)

Liz says they are going to Moosehead Lodge on Lake Okeechobee. Liz calls it a real swanky place.  Katie reminds Liz that George prefers more rugged vacations.  Liz says she will suggest it to George at dinner. 

Lake Okeechobee is a real place, located in central Florida, although it is far more conducive to George’s type of vacation than Liz’s, highlighting nature through fishing and nature.  

Although there are places called Moosehead Lodge in America, it unlikely that a moose would be associated with central Florida and that it would be an upscale resort of the type Liz is describing. 

At the bank, George talks to his co-worker Joe about scheduling vacations.  Joe says that his ideal vacation is in a trailer.  If George likes the idea, he will lend the Coopers his trailer.  George will suggest it to Liz at dinner. 

After dinner, both Liz and George get cozy with the idea of easing the other into going on their dream destination.  Liz ‘just happened’ to hear about a place that she vaguely remembers. 

LIZ: “I did hear of some place called Moosehead Lodge. It’s probably situated in groves of stately pines, on the shores of an emerald green lake, its rustic beauty enhanced by lawns and flower beds. Each luxurious room is furnished with clean, comfortable box spring beds, modern bathroom and shower. Ten dollars a day, American plan. Oh, George, let’s go there. We can relax and enjoy a continual round of  glorious entertainment, sports, good food, and true fellowship, see your travel agent for details.”

George realizes that Liz has been plotting a vacation.  George says he has a better idea - two weeks in a trailer.  Liz is less than keen. George says that they can borrow Joe Risley’s trailer!

LIZ: “Keen with mud on it.”

Liz is worried that nobody will see her new vacation wardrobe if they are cooped up in a trailer.  They are at an impasse.  Liz suggests they go on separate vacations.  When George reluctantly agrees, she breaks down in tears.  

Liz moans to Katie that she already misses George, and the vacation doesn’t begin for two months.  George phones from work to talk to Liz.  George offers a compromise.  They will take a trial weekend trip in the trailer, and if she doesn’t like it, he will go to Moosehead Lodge!

Vacationing in a trailer was explored by Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz in their 1953 comedy MGM’s The Long Long Trailer.  The film mines a lot of physical comedy from the trailer’s unwieldy movement and how Lucy’s character Tacy Bolton copes with it. 

ANNOUNCER: “George is just driving up with the trailer hooked up to the back of the car.”

Liz remarks how small the trailer is.  

GEORGE: “Keep an open mind.” LIZ: “I’ll have to close it or it won’t fit in that trailer.” 

They tour the inside, which is smaller than Liz thought.  Just then, a knock at the trailer door and there’s a policeman (Frank Nelson) issuing them a parking ticket! Forty bucks for parking illegally!

The next morning George and Liz get an early start on their trial trailer trip.  Liz has brought along a little light reading for the trip: “Inside Moosehead Lodge” by Liz Gunther. 

Motoring along the highway, George is enjoying the drive. 

LIZ: “Travel is great. I wouldn’t go anywhere without it.”

George says it is so smooth, you wouldn’t even know the trailer is back there.  Liz notices that it isn’t!  George forgot to hook it on!   Finally, they are off (again) to Goosegrease Lake. Liz reads one of those sequential signs along the roadside: “If Your Whiskers...  Won’t Behave... Take a Tip Use....”  Liz goes silent. 

GEORGE: “Use what?”  LIZ: “The last sign’s torn down. Now we’ll never know.” 

Almost everyone in the audience knew it was Burma-Shave.  From 1926 until 1963 the ‘brushless’ shaving cream company dotted the American highways with small red signs, each containing a line of a short rhyme that the driver could read without slowing down as they drove by.  At one time, there were over 600 different rhymes on signs!  

The idea was given a nod on a 1955 “I Love Lucy” episode “First Stop” (ILL S4;E14) with the roadside signs for Aunt Polly’s Pecan Pralines. 

LUCY: Fifty miles to Aunt Sally’s Pecan Pralines. later... LUCY: 300 yards to Aunt Sally’s! ETHEL: 200 yards! FRED: 100 yards! RICKY: Just around the bend! LUCY: You have just passed Aunt Sally’s. 

Liz is quite sure that George’s shortcut has gotten them lost. They stop to ask directions from a laid back filling station attendant (Milton Stark) who tells them they don’t want to go to Goosegrease Lake.  He suggests they go to the hot springs, instead. 

Oops! Milton Stark has trouble pronouncing ‘Goosegrease’ and  the audience is aware of his flub. When he asks Lucille Ball “What ya gonna do there?” She deliberately says “We’re gonna goose a grease”, instead of “grease a goose”, which causes more giggles from the cast and gales of laughter from the audience. 

FILLING STATION ATTENDANT: “You can’t get there from here!”

Next morning Liz wakes up and looks around.  She sees beautiful green grass and a little flag with the number 18 on it!  A golf ball comes crashing through the window. The policeman from who ticketed them earlier knocks on the trailer door. They have illegally camped out on the 18th green of the municipal golf course - only two miles from home!  Liz said they didn’t know where they were going. 

POLICEMAN: “Do you know where you’re going now?” LIZ: “Yes!  To Moosehead Lodge!” POLICEMAN: “No, to the city jail! Come on!”

End of Episode