#Samantha Sewell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lykegenia · 2 years ago

Text

Like Glitter And Gold Ch.13

COMPLETE Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Characters/pairings: Nate Sewell x f!Detective Rating: T Warnings: None Summary: Wayhaven has had its ups and downs in the past few months, and for Detective Leah Kingston, dealing with vampire serial killers and mysterious plagues has become something of a routine. Good thing, too. The body of a murdered supernatural has just been discovered in the alley behind a local bar - and everything, really, just gets weirder from there.Between the search for the dead man's killer, keeping the Agency at bay, and trying to navigate the new, uncertain waters of a relationship with a very suave vampire boyfriend, Leah has her work cut out solving the mystery, especially when it beomes clear she's hunting more than just a murderer. Additional tags: murder mystery, fluff, angst

Read on AO3

If there’s one thing that can improve a shitty day, it’s a cup of fancy tea and a cinnamon swirl from Haley’s, which is why Leah suspects Tina was so desperate to get her out of the station. Instead of taking their usual corner, they’re eating in the car for better privacy, brushing flakes of pastry into the footwell and aimlessly people-watching as the sun sets behind the buildings of the square. It definitely beats staring at a computer screen – or hiding behind it, as Tina insists she’s been doing.

It’s been three days since official news of the arrest went public, long enough for Bobby to pen a grudging article about the case being solved. Thankfully he’s kept the salacious details to a bare minimum, a run-of-the-mill crime of passion next to the sensational reveal of the Pegasus’ lost treasure, which for him has the added bonus of inspiring reams of editorials and interviews with the bigwigs of the town.

He's welcome to the attention. There’s a lot missing from the bare-bones report she had to write for station records, everything from a fudged motive to the significance of the murder weapon, and Bobby’s flaunting creates an easy smokescreen to excuse the lack of detail. The Captain’s only thoughts when she emailed him the final forms were grief for the whisky, salvaged from the lakebed only to be squirreled away into the mayor’s private collection.

The separate report for the Agency has taken longer as it contains not only the full details of the case but also the measures taken to keep said details contained, with the assurance that none of the town’s residents are any the wiser about the existence of the supernatural. If she’s been more meticulous than strictly necessary, well, it just means she wants to do a thorough job – and it has nothing to do with wanting to avoid Unit Bravo and anywhere she might happen to run into them.

Tina, of course, knows her too well, and traces the line of her thoughts as if they were sketched out in front of her.

“So… what’s Nate’s opinion on all this craziness?”

Leah tears a shard of pastry from her danish. “He’s three hundred years old, he’s probably seen it all before.”

“Not what I meant,” Tina retorts. “And three hundred? Seriously?” She blows a stunned breath through her cheeks. “I meant about Samantha Harrs being the killer.”

“I don’t know…” She’s been trying not to think about it. “He wasn’t happy. But I’m not happy either – the Agency just sweeps everything under the rug like it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s probably not why he’s upset.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look,” Tina huffs, with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, “the murderer you just unmasked killed her partner because she found out he wasn’t human and it sent her postal, and you and Nate are in the middle of some weird disagreement. I don’t know how common it is for humans and supernaturals to be in relationships with each other where the human knows, but it can’t be a great reminder of how everything can go horribly wrong for him.”

Leah can only stare. Could that really be the source of Nate’s strange defensiveness the last time they talked? She’s been so busy trying to sort out her own feelings, the possibility never occurred to her.

“And they made you the detective,” Tina remarks, when the thought finally settles.

“You didn’t want the paperwork.”

“You should talk to him,” she says. “And not just because you’d be stupid to let someone who looks like that and who’s so clearly into you just walk away.”

It’s easier said than done.

“Sometimes I wonder what he wants.”

“Maybe ask him?”

“And what if I don’t like the answer?” Leah asks. What if it’s the answer she’s afraid of most?

Tina shrugs. “I guess you’ll be moping forever, then.”

Without the energy for a proper reply, Leah turns her attention to the passersby on the street. As much as she wants to protest that the situation is complicated, that she never expected her life to turn in this direction, or even that dealing with a relationship is by far the most stressful thing she’s ever done, the simple heart of the matter is that the path she’s walking is one she can’t see, and it’s terrifying. A conversation is inevitable – not least because she’s scheduled for a debrief at the warehouse in a few hours – but she has no idea what to say. How to explain herself.

“Is there anything else you want to add?” Rebecca asks, a few hours later. She’s sitting at the kitchen table in a charcoal grey business suit, prim as ever as she scans the contents of the manilla folder in front of her, like a teacher marking homework for an underperforming student. Adam hasn’t deigned to sit, and instead looms over her right shoulder, arms folded but otherwise at ease.

Leah shakes her head. At some point she’ll have to talk to Verda about the medical report, and hopefully persuade him to keep his silence once the case goes to trial. It won’t be a pleasant conversation, but that’s between them. The Agency has nothing to do with it.

Adam raises an eyebrow at her technically-not-a-lie, but says nothing.

“If that’s all, then it’s getting late.”

As she stands, Rebecca looks up from the file as if surprised her daughter doesn’t want to hang around for a cuppa and a nice chat. “Of course, I’ll need to file your report in any case.” She chews her lip for a second. “Leah? You did good work on this.”

“I did my job,” she replies. “I don’t need praise.”

The discomfort is better in the corridor without Rebecca’s scrutiny on the back of her skull, but now the final barrier has fallen away, the last excuse keeping her from Nate. He must know she’s in the building, but he’s nowhere in sight. It’s telling. Guilt twists deeper in her gut.

As she winds through the warehouse the feeling hardens into worry at what he’ll say when she finally finds him – if he lets her find him at all. A part of her wants him to be on patrol in a deliberately far corner of Wayhaven, avoiding her, because that would be easier; it would feel deserved, and then she could curl herself up and hide away somewhere in the hope that the problem would go away.

But how to make him understand the alarms that wake in her head every time he puts himself forward? It’s mean and it’s ridiculous, but his earnestness chips away at the protective wall she’s built around old scars. Still deep in thought, she nearly collides with Felix in the corridor, his arms full of cat food, and gets a worried, sympathetic look for her trouble.

“Nate’s in the library – he’s, uh, not busy or anything. Just so you know.”

“Thanks, I was looking for him.”

Sure enough, faint scales of classical music echo down the hallway as she approaches the library. The plush carpet has muffled her footsteps, but as she pauses outside the door to steady herself, there’s little chance he hasn’t heard her. And yet, she can detect no audible movement from inside. What if he’s hoping she’ll walk away? Perhaps… Yes. If he doesn’t want to talk, she can pretend she only wandered in to look for a misplaced hoodie, or a notebook, and bid him an impartial good evening – and then hopefully make it to her room before the tightness in her chest can overwhelm her entirely.

The doorknob under her palm is cool brass, its raised decoration pressing smooth bumps into the skin of her palm as she turns it and pushes into the room. Nate is over at the far end with a pile of books balanced on one hand, frowning down at a piece of card in the other as if it’s in a language e doesn’t understand. When she crosses the threshold, he glances up, his surprise feigned but his smile genuine enough, even if there’s more wariness than warmth hidden in its corners.

She doesn’t go closer, greets him instead with a self-conscious little wave. “Hey.”

“Hi… Have you seen Adam and Rebecca?”

“Yeah, I just submitted my report.”

“Good.” He nods, brittle. “It’s good that everything’s wrapped up.”

“For now.”

A shrug, and another silence falls between them, sharp enough that she fights the urge to tug her sleeves down over her hands, to shrink away from the inevitable blow.

“Look,” she starts, and rolls her lips together. “I just wanted to say, it was awful, what Samantha did. I – Tina said –” no, Tina’s not supposed to know “– it’s occurred to me that this case might have seemed a little… close to home, because Russell was a supernatural, and stuff. But doing what she did, I – the way she reacted wasn’t right.”

He sets the books on the shelf when her voice falters, turning towards her like a compass, but her courage falters and her gaze stays riveted on the pattern of flamingos on his socks.

“And… in case it was a concern, I just needed you to know I would never – I mean I couldn’t –” She shakes her head, waves off the unfinished sentence. “It doesn’t matter. Ignore me. I’ll get out of your way.”

She’s barely reached for the door when a hand catches her arm, light as a cobweb.

“Leah…” Nate breathes. “Stop. Did you really think I feared you capable of murder?”

She shrugs, doesn’t dare look at his face. “I don’t know? You were upset, I don’t know what to think, and in case you’ve missed the newsflash, I’m really bad at this.”

“At what?”

“This,” she replies, gesturing between them. “Being a normal person. Not fucking things up. Relationships are something other people get to have – I’m just the one who clears up the mess when they go wrong.”

A gentle finger curls under her chin and tips her head upwards, but she still refuses to meet his eyes. That way lies the ruin of the last fine thread of her control.

“You haven’t fucked things up,” he tells her gently, brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

The gesture is what finally lifts her gaze to his face, every muscle tensed against her body’s urge to tremble. He looks pained.

“Whatever I have said to make you think so,” he says, “I wish you’d tell me.”

“You don’t get it.” She jerks her head away from his touch. “I don’t get to have things like you. You’re so… so nice. So interested in me. The way you look at me sometimes, it feels like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop – wondering what you really want from me. It’s stupid but I can’t help it and it’s exhausting. I thought I could handle it and that I’d get over myself so you wouldn’t have to deal with it, but then Samantha turned out to be the murderer, and there was the picture in the paper, and then –”

The rest of the words are swallowed by the cashmere softness of his jumper as he wraps her in a hug. Stunned, it’s all she can do to breathe in his scent, to register the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear or the thread of fingers into her hair.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs after a long moment of silence.

“What?” She tries to push away. “No. I’m apologising. I’m the one who –”

“I thought I was being obvious,” he interrupts, though he loosens his hold. “It didn’t occur to me that my actions might be read as insincere.”

“Probably because a normal person can fucking read.”

Nate sighs. “It seems unfair to argue for normalcy in someone as extraordinary as you.”

She should have known he wouldn’t take her seriously. Annoyance hisses between her teeth as she tries to disentangle herself again, but he only lets her get to arms’ length before he catches her once more.

“Leah, stop. You’re right.” He turns a palm upwards against her cheek. “I’ve been so consumed by my own feelings that I didn’t take the time to make sure of yours. I wish you’d asked,” he adds, but quiet enough for it to not feel like an accusation.

“Nobody likes someone who’s clingy,” she snaps, her gaze once again drifting to the sofa, the rows of books that line the walls, anywhere but him.

“That’s not what I think of you,” he says, as if he can see right through to the wellspring of bitterness she’s buried deep. “You are brave, and driven, and one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. I hope you believe me.”

And just like that, he’s disarmed her.

“Well when you come right out and say it…” she grumbles, with another inelegant shrug.

“I think I’ll keep saying it,” he replies, with a crinkle of amusement in his smile. “Until you stop doubting it.”

She snorts. “Not sure it works like that. Ugh, I’m sorry. I want to be better, I just…”

With a hum, he draws her back into an embrace, tension easing out of him when this time she returns the gesture. “It’s alright… And I’m truly sorry, too, for failing to see how much you were struggling with this. We’ll work it out.”

“Is there a seminar I can attend?”

A deep chuckle rumbles against her cheek, chased by the brief press of a kiss to the top of her head. Leah, unable to remember ever receiving such a fond gesture, burrows deeper into his chest and tries to steady her breathing, to push away the conviction that he deserves better.

“I have something for you,” he says after a while.

Muffled against the soft scratch of what is probably actually cashmere, she grins. “That sounds like a Mason line.”

“I should hope I have a little more subtlety,” he teases. “And it’s two things, really. They’re in the kitchen.”

Despite not wanting to move, she lets him take her hand to lead the way. The corridors are empty, perhaps because the other vampires have picked up on the uneasy mood and decided not to get caught in any crossfire, but it’s nice to have the quiet, and Nate’s warm hand secure in hers even after she spilled all her fears to him. Every so often as they walk he glances to her, swinging their hands like they ought to be skipping through a field of wildflowers.

When they get to the kitchen, he leaves her at the island and crosses to one of the upper cupboards. A cacophony of sweet and savoury odours pours out from the rows of small, uniform jars that fill the shelves.

“Nice hiding place,” she comments.

He grins. “I like to think so.”

He takes down a small, oblong package and hands it to her. The plain brown paper comes away easily to reveal a simple A5 picture frame, already mounted with a photo.

She bites her lip. “This is the picture Bobby took.”

Even a second time, the vulnerability on display constricts unpleasantly in her chest, a curl of shame for how easily she got caught. And yet, something about this particular version of the image is off – its edges are crisper than they should be, with a gloss from high-quality photo stock.

“You didn’t cut this out of the paper.”

“No…” Nate has the grace to look abashed. “I went to see Bobby and asked him for the master copy, as well as any others he’d made.”

“And he just gave them to you?”

He ducks his shoulders in a brief shrug. “He might have needed a little persuasion. I also might have suggested that it would be better for his health if he refrained from running any more such speculative articles in the future.”

“You threatened him?” she checks. Leaving aside the fact that she’s pretty sure using pheromones on civilians is against some sort of Agency code, revealing anything supernatural to Bobby in particular feels like poking a leopard with a short stick. “Does Adam know?”

“No, Adam doesn’t know.” Another shrug. “I meant what I said the other day – he shouldn’t have done what he did.”

Underneath his concern, the ever-present gentleness he tries so hard to project, his voice is betrayed by a note of anger that rings like cold steel, the predator he could become if he ever let himself loose. Leah has to look away, unused to the idea of such an effort on her behalf.

“Why give it to me?” she asks.

Nate has stepped closer, one reverent hand playing with the stray wisps of hair around her face. “Because Bobby Marks’ photography skills far exceed his manners,” he says, “and it reminds me of a beautiful day spent in your company. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the best way to avoid being hurt is to take an enemy’s weapons from them and turn them to a different purpose.”

With a heavy sigh, Leah considers the photo again. “Pretty and wise. How do you cope?”

He chuckles. Soft fingers trace the line of her jaw as he leans in, and with a nervous swallow her gaze drops to his mouth. Even after only three days – hardly an eternity – getting to kiss him again is like the prospect of rain in a desert, her heart a seed bursting into flower at the merest drop of water as she presses close and wraps her arms around his neck.

“I almost forgot the other thing,” he murmurs against her lips.

“Do we really need it?”

“I want to share it with you.”

This time, he reaches into one of the bottom cupboards to pull out a pair of cut-crystal tumblers, and then into another for a dark, scuffed bottle, which he presents to her with all the pomp of a waiter in a fancy restaurant delivering the wine list. The label is faded, crinkled into the rough texture paper gets when it’s been soaked and then left to dry, and instead of a modern plastic film around the neck, the stopper is held in place with a thick daub of bluish wax.

“Don’t tell me that’s from the Pegasus?” Her hand stretches out of its own accord, riveted by this small, insanely valuable piece of Wayhaven’s history.

“One of the salvage team owed me a favour,” he explains, and sets the bottle on the counter. “The mayor has agreed that a portion of the proceeds will go to Stanley Harris to make up for his great-grandfather’s treatment after the wreck, and the rest is going to fund various social projects around town.”

“No doubt with a healthy commission left aside for himself – Walter Greene must be thrilled.” She probably shouldn’t relish as much as she does the fact that, after fronting so much money for Russell’s diving equipment, the local crime boss won’t be seeing a penny from the proceeds. Even this single bottle is more than he’ll ever get to tuck away into his private stores.

And Nate is actually going to open it.

“You know,” she ventures, “that’ll probably be wasted on me. I’m not exactly a connoisseur.”

He offers her a smile. “The important part is not the whisky, it’s being able to share it with such excellent company.”

He even sweeps her hand up to kiss her knuckles. With lines like that, and those rich, doe-brown eyes drinking her in like she’s starlight, it’s hard not to sympathise with all those heroines of Victorian literature who had to keep piles of cushions within fainting distance. Strangely, it doesn’t bother her as much as it might have done a week ago. The talk they shared in the library has cleared the air enough to allow her the moment free of suspicion, easy and relaxed as he breaks the wax seal and pulls the cork with a faint pop. A rich, peaty aroma rises up from the dram of amber liquid he pours for each of them. She doesn’t say it, but philistine that she is, it hardly seems worth a hundred years of fuss.

“To successfully solving your case,” he says, raising his glass.

“To… clearing the air.”

The glasses clink with a pure, brilliant note. To her uneducated human nose, the smell of the whisky doesn’t impart any great epiphany on closer inspection, and if her face flushes with warmth it likely has more to do with Nate’s amusement at her caution than any particular effect of the alcohol. She takes a sip. At first, the taste is almost pleasant, mellow and smoky. And then the burning starts. She coughs, forcing it down, while Nate’s bites his lips together to keep from laughing at her grimace.

“Yeah, no,” she gasps. “I am not a fan of that.”

Rubbing a soothing line between her shoulder blades, he murmurs something she doesn’t catch and feathers a kiss against her hair.

“Are you alright?”

“I just choked on my whole salary.” Another cough. “I told you it would be wasted on me.”

“I wouldn’t call that performance a waste,” he teases.

“Ha ha. Aren’t you going to try it?”

One elegant eyebrow lifts, his gaze fixed on her as he sniffs, sips, savours the feel of it on his tongue. There’s rapture in his expression, a groan that falls from his lips in the brief instant his eyes slip closed. Her mouth goes dry.

“So, uh, is it good?” she asks, trying to ignore the flush of heat to her face.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, the bastard. His eyes open lazily, his smile lengthened into an easy smirk just shy of breaking into a full grin.

“It has some pleasant notes.”

Her weight shifts; her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”

A hum. He takes her hand again and turns so that she’s between him and the counter – not trapped, but pinned all the same as he searches her face.

“I merely had a thought about what would make it sweeter.”

“Oh?” He’s close enough now that she can taste it on his breath.

“Mhmm. May I show you?”

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #nate sewell #nate sewell x detective #nate sewell x f!detective #tina poname #detective leah kingston #like glitter and gold #i can't believe i finally got to the end of it #murder mysteries are hard

8 notes · View notes

joyffree · 2 years ago

Text

Title: Damaged Love Series: Cape Cove Series Book 2 Author: Harper Monroe Genre: Bully Romance (can be read as standalone) Release Date: January 20, 2023 Cover Design: Harper Monroe Photographer: Randy Sewell with RLS Model Images Cover Model: Rick Halstead

I was going to be her prince and save her until…I became the villain.

She was the girl everyone bullied. I was the boy hiding a secret. She thinks she was just a bet, but she doesn’t know the truth. I watched her break and I tried to fix her, but some might say I took it too far. She was gone for nine months, but here she is…back on the first day of our senior year.

Samantha Saxton, the girl I’ve known my entire life and have loved just as long.

Everything was perfect until the night of prom when someone tried to ruin us. I won’t let them destroy what I have with her, I’ll do what I always do for her…retaliate.

I was done with the games, but I guess one more won’t hurt, right? They started it, they wanted to play, but I will always win.

@_HarperMonroe Hosted by Enticing Journey Book Promotions

#damagedlovecoverreveal #damagedloveharpermonroe #bullyromance #standalone #coverreveal #comingsoon #amazon #kindleunlimited #harpermonroeauthor #capecoveseries #enticingjourney

1 note · View note

sammisewell · 3 years ago

Text

Supporting Local Tourism Episode 33, Caravan Farm Theater JoyRide

We ventured back to the Caravan Farm Theater this week on Supporting Local Tourism in Spallmachene, BC! This time for their Holiday show Joy ride, which takes place between December 3rd-January 2, 2022! Joy ride is an all outdoor performance featuring some experienced and some new actors that perform different scenes throughout the snow cover forest while you are sitting on a “Two Horse Open…

youtube

View On WordPress

#Canada #Canadian pageant #Samantha Sewell #Youtube

0 notes

missteencanada · 5 years ago

Text

Winning Miss Royalty International 2020

As you all know last year I represented Canada on the Miss Royalty International 2019. I was announced as the First Runner-up. and as the optional title of Miss International Volunteer 2019.

Two days after 2019 crowning I message Cheryl and asked to return in hopes to win the crown. Starting in September I studied the current winner, the past winners. I studied my scores to see what needed…

View On WordPress

#Featured #Miss Royalty International #Miss Royalty International 2020 #MRI Pageant #MRI2020 #Samantha Sewell #sammi sewell

0 notes

lorirwritesfanfic · 3 years ago

Text

MissK's Kinktober 2021 masterlist

Oh, look! My ability to write porn has reached other fandoms 😁

Day 1. The Wayhaven Chronicles: Good Manners | Nate Sewell x Stella Lovejoy

Day 2. The Crown and The Flame: Hide and Seek | Raydan Lykel x Kenna Rys

Day 5. Perfect Match: Toys With Miraculous Healing Effects | M!Hayden Young x Natasha Park

Day 6. Love Island The Game: Levi x Jane Abrams

Day 10. Lovelink: Ryan Byrne x Sarah Eklund

Day 11. Open Heart: Rafael Aveiro x Evelyn Bennington

Day 12. The Baller: Brody Easton x Delilah Maddox

Day 15. Desire and Decorum: Annabelle Parsons x Veronica Dantas

Day 20. Love Island The Game: Lucas Koh x Rosalie Brown

Day 22. Ride or Die: Logan x Carla Mendoza

Day 24. Finding Master Right: Banner Jennings x Kate Jennings

Day 27. The Royal Romance: Liam Rys x Jade Bourbon-Rys

Day 29. Bloodbound: Jax Matsuo x Samantha Holden

Day 31. Desire and Decorum: Prince Hamid x Daphne Wang

#fanfiction #choices fanfic #litg fanfic #the wayhaven chronicles fanfic #chapters fanfic #lovelink fanfic

19 notes · View notes

uomo-accattivante · 4 years ago

Text

Several people have asked me about the Juilliard classmate who co-starred with Oscar in the school’s production of Chekhov’s Three Sisters. Her name was Sarah Fox, and she was destined to become a star, in her own right, before sadly becoming a victim of a still-unsolved homicide in May, 2004.

The following is a quote about Oscar’s statement to the New York Times and the article it originated from:

“Oscar Isaac, a fellow third-year drama student, said Ms. Fox was known for her constellation of hugs. The one reserved exclusively for Mr. Isaac would require each of them to tickle each other's backs while embracing.”

(📷: Serena Reeder)

Her story has much of the familiar ring of the young aspirant's tale. She was a radiant young woman with a repertoire of special hugs, imbued with talent and brimming with hope. From the far reaches of New Jersey, she came to study at one of New York's fabled cultural institutions and to wonder if one day destiny might find her. People took notice. She glowed.

Sarah Fox's story ended when her badly decomposed body was found on Tuesday by a volunteer search party in the thickets near a jogging path in Inwood Hill Park in northern Manhattan. Positive identification was made yesterday, law enforcement authorities said, after her mother presented dental records to the medical examiner's office.

The police said that she had been strangled, though they were uncertain whether by hand or by another method, and they could not determine if she had been sexually assaulted. The bizarre placement of petals and branches from a tulip tree around the body raised the question that the killing may have had a ritualistic element. The police said they were without suspects but were casting a wide net.

Ms. Fox was 21, 5 feet 2 inches tall, with blue eyes and strawberry blond hair that she wore short on the sides and spiked on top. She was a student in the drama department at the Juilliard School, the performing arts conservatory at Lincoln Center. The rarefied air of its sleekly modern buildings have produced a long list of hallowed names including Miles Davis, Philip Glass, Yo-Yo Ma, Itzhak Perlman, Nina Simone and Robin Williams.

Ms. Fox was starry-eyed with her own high aspirations for a stage career. She drew a favorable response for her versatility, just as convincingly playing the conniving Natasha in Chekhov's ''Three Sisters'' as she did a bird in the Aristophanes play ''The Birds.'' A fellow drama student at Juilliard remarked on how ''brave, open, accomplished'' she was as an actress.

Recently, though, she had taken a leave from the school. Her relatives said she had found Juilliard very demanding and simply needed a brief interlude to replenish herself. She intended to resume her studies in the fall as a third-year student.

The abrupt and jarring end to her life left Juilliard bewildered. The discovery equally stunned the city itself. Though Ms. Fox's movements in the hours leading to her death remain unclear, it appears that a young woman went out to jog well before dusk, in a park where children played and people walked their dogs, only to encounter a murderer that no one saw.

For an hour and a half yesterday morning, members of the Juilliard drama department gathered to collectively address her death. This took place in Room 304, a classroom that has become something of a designated grieving room. In recent years, similar grim assemblages occurred. Several years ago, another third-year drama student was found dead and the room filled up. It did again last year when a student's sister was murdered. It was the same place where students gathered after Sept. 11.

In the room that one student characterized as ''an emotional vortex,'' more than 150 people mourned Sarah Fox, an astonishing number given that classes had ended for the academic year a week ago and many students had dispersed. A second-year drama student who attended the session said the event was ''uplifting'' even though virtually everyone was in tears. Ms. Fox's boyfriend, a Juilliard drama graduate, was among those who spoke.

Later in the day, about 70 students and faculty members returned to campus for a half-hour memorial service in one of the dance studios. Filing out of the building, Jane Cho, 31, a former piano student and now a career counselor at Juilliard, said, ''It was dark and a lot of people were crying.''

Joseph W. Polisi, Juilliard's president, issued a statement saying: ''She reached out eloquently to others through her exceptional ability as an actress. Her senseless loss leaves us all feeling a profound sorrow.''

Ms. Fox grew up in a family of modest means in Pennsauken, in southern New Jersey. She had an older sister, Samantha. Her father, a car mechanic, died of cancer 10 years ago, and her mother sometimes held two jobs to raise the two girls. She currently lives in Gibbstown, N.J., and is a manager for a mortgage company.

Ms. Fox caught the acting bug as a girl and filled her summers performing in shows. She also developed a strong interest in music, and she liked to jog to keep fit.

In an interview with The Courier-Post of New Jersey before her daughter's body was found, Lorraine Fox recounted how she had impressed on Sarah the dangers of the world. When Sarah was little, they played a game called ''What If?'' Her mother would ask a question like, ''What if a stranger came up and asked you to help find a dog?''

Ms. Fox would learn the answers, which were always, ''No.''

During high school, she was a member of the first class of the Southern New Jersey Academy of the Performing Arts, a division of the Gloucester County Institute of Technology in Sewell. Eileen Shute, a spokeswoman for the school, said Ms. Fox was an A student and a ''quality young lady.''

According to the school's yearbook, she belonged to the fine arts club and the thespian society and had leading parts in a number of major productions, including Rosalind in Shakespeare's early romantic comedy ''As You Like It.'' Classmates were amused when she and her date once showed up at a dance dressed as Sonny and Cher.

At the back of her 2001 yearbook, she is pictured in the front row of her graduating class. The headline over the photo reads: ''The perfect end to a beautiful beginning''

Her talent gained her admission with a full scholarship to Juilliard in the fall of 2001, where she seemed to have become well-liked and admired by students and teachers.

Several classmates said she had a knack for knowing when other people needed a jolt of confidence. When one student assumed that no one had remembered his birthday, Ms. Fox put up on a drama department message board a brown paper bag on which she had scribbled, ''We haven't forgotten, Happy Birthday.'' Another time, she cheered up a student having trouble mastering his character in a play by leaving a note on a blackboard that said: ''Don't beat yourself up. You're immensely talented.''

It was her abilities on the stage as much as her robust personality that attracted attention. A number of students praised her leading performance in last year's production of Brecht's ''Caucasian Chalk Circle.'' ''She was 19 years old and was not a parent, but she played the mother so convincingly,'' said one recent graduate. ''It made you wonder where someone could get that sort of poise and wisdom.''

When she played a bird in ''The Birds,'' many who saw the performance said they thought it was enlightened casting. ''She was so light-spirited and in touch with her animal instincts,'' said Jess Weixler, another recent graduate.

Her family felt certain of her future. ''I have no doubt that we would have seen her name in lights one day on Broadway,'' said an uncle, Isaac Porter.

Oscar Isaac, a fellow third-year drama student, said Ms. Fox was known for her constellation of hugs. The one reserved exclusively for Mr. Isaac would require each of them to tickle each other's backs while embracing.

Ms. Fox shared an apartment in the Inwood section not far from where her body was found. It was in a five-story walkup building in a neighborhood whose relatively low rents have drawn an influx of younger people embarked on careers in the arts.

Her roommate reported her missing last Thursday. The last time her roommate saw her was at 5 p.m. the previous day. Wearing workout clothes and carrying a compact disc player, Ms. Fox was apparently on her way to her gym or to jog.

The police sent officers, helicopters and dogs to root through the thickly forested parks of Inwood. News of her disappearance galvanized her friends and family to do what they could. They tacked up hundreds of posters bearing her photograph. To further assist, Mr. Porter, an electrician from Millville, N.J., assembled a volunteer search party, composed largely of people from South Jersey, to fan out through Inwood Hill Park. The police had been there. But the family sensed that if anything had happened to Sarah Fox, it had happened there.

Early Tuesday afternoon, members of the search party sifted through a tangled area near a jogging path and found what they had hoped they wouldn't find. They found the end of Sarah Fox's story.

###

#oscar isaac #juilliard #sarah fox #group 34 #anton chekhov #three sisters

61 notes · View notes

snarkyoracle · 5 years ago

Text

Best Drama *WINNER “Game of Thrones” (HBO) “Better Call Saul” (AMC) “Bodyguard” (Netflix) “Killing Eve” (AMC/BBC America) “Ozark” (Netflix) “Pose” (FX) “Succession” (HBO) “This Is Us” (NBC)

Lead Actress, Drama *WINNER Jodie Comer, “Killing Eve” Emilia Clarke, “Game of Thrones” Viola Davis, “How To Get Away With Murder” Laura Linney, “Ozark” Mandy Moore, “This Is Us” Sandra Oh, “Killing Eve” Robin Wright, “House of Cards”

Directing for a Drama Series *WINNER Jason Bateman, “Ozark” Lisa Brühlmann, “Killing Eve” David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, “Game of Thrones” (“The Iron Throne”) Adam McKay, “Succession” David Nutter, “Game of Thrones”(The Last of the Starks”) Daina Reid, “The Handmaid’s Tale” Miguel Sapochnik, “Game of Thrones” (“The Long Night”)

Lead Actor, Drama *WINNER Billy Porter, “Pose” Jason Bateman, “Ozark” Sterling K. Brown, “This Is Us” Kit Harington, “Game of Thrones” Bob Odenkirk, “Better Call Saul” Milo Ventimiglia, “This Is Us”

Supporting Actress, Drama *WINNER Julia Garner, “Ozark” Gwendoline Christie, “Game of Thrones” Lena Headey, “Game of Thrones” Fiona Shaw, “Killing Eve” Sophie Turner, “Game of Thrones” Maisie Williams, “Game of Thrones”

Writing for a Drama Series *WINNER Jesse Armstrong, “Succession” David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, “Game of Thrones” Emerald Fennell, “Killing Eve” Peter Gould and Thomas Schnauz, “Better Call Saul” Jed Mercurio, “Bodyguard” Bruce Miller and Kira Snyder, “The Handmaid’s Tale”

Supporting Actor, Drama *WINNER Peter Dinklage, “Game of Thrones” Alfie Allen, “Game Of Thrones” Jonathan Banks, “Better Call Saul” Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, “Game of Thrones” Giancarlo Esposito, “Better Call Saul” Michael Kelly, “House of Cards” Chris Sullivan, “This Is Us”

Variety Talk Series *WINNER “Last Week Tonight With John Oliver” (HBO) “The Daily Show with Trevor Noah” (Comedy Central) “Full Frontal With Samantha Bee” (TBS) “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” (ABC) “Late Late Show with James Corden” (CBS) “Late Show with Stephen Colbert” (CBS)

Director for a Variety Series *WINNER Don Roy King, “Saturday Night Live” Alex Buono and Rhys Thomas, “Documentary Now!” Derek Waters, “Drunk History” Paul Pennolino, “Last Week Tonight With John Oliver” Jim Hoskinson, “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” Sacha Baron Cohen, Nathan Fielder, Daniel Gray Longino and Dan Mazer, “Who Is America?”

Variety Sketch Series *WINNER “Saturday Night Live” (NBC) “At Home With Amy Sedaris (TruTV) “Documentary Now!” (IFC) “Drunk History” (Comedy Central) “I Love You, America With Sarah Silverman” (Hulu) “Who Is America?” (Showtime)

Writing for a Variety Series *WINNER “Last Week Tonight With John Oliver” “Documentary Now!” “Full Frontal With Samantha Bee” “Late Night With Seth Meyers” “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” “Saturday Night Live”

Best Limited Series *WINNER “Chernobyl” (HBO) “Escape at Dannemora” (Showtime) “Fosse/Verdon” (FX) “Sharp Objects” (HBO) “When They See Us” (Netflix)

Lead Actress, Limited Series or TV Movie *WINNER Michelle Williams, “Fosse/Verdon” Amy Adams, “Sharp Objects” Patricia Arquette, “Escape at Dannemora” Aunjanue Ellis, “When They See Us” Joey King, “The Act” Niecy Nash, “When They See Us”

Television Movie *WINNER “Black Mirror: Bandersnatch” (Netflix) “Brexit” (HBO) “Deadwood: The Movie” (HBO) “King Lear” (Amazon Prime) “My Dinner With Hervé” (HBO)

Lead Actor, Limited Series or TV Movie *WINNER Jharrel Jerome, “When They See Us” Mahershala Ali, “True Detective” Benicio Del Toro, “Escape at Dannemora” Hugh Grant, “A Very English Scandal” Jared Harris, “Chernobyl” Sam Rockwell, “Fosse/Verdon”