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timespaceandfilm · 3 months ago

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Reinventing the Wheel - Ch 28: Raven's Descent

Author: timespaceandfilm

Fic Rating: E - this fic has some NSFW content in other chapters, 18+ only

Chapter Rating: E - There be Smut under the cut!

Pairings: Sebastian x Female Farmer

Notes: This chapter has one little section of Seb's POV

Chapter Word Count: 14.6 k

Chapter Warnings: panic attacks, alcoholism, some pretty unhealthy self-image/self esteem stuff

Chapter Summary: Charlie's past continues to haunt her as her birthday draws nearer and nearer. Sebastian can tell something is up. So why isn't she saying anything?

Blurb:

Sunday brings one of those damp days where the mist rolls off the hillsides and pours down into every crevice of the valley. Luckily, the rain is much more tolerable, coming down in a drizzle far gentler than Thursday’s relentless downpour. Still, I strap a tarp over my wagon to keep the hardwood inside dry as I escort it up the mountain trail. To the untrained eye, it would seem like I’m pulling it normally. In reality, my right hand is hovering a few centimeters above the handle, as I use my magnet ring to guide it along. I want to save as much physical energy as possible for tonight so I can finally catch those last two fish.

Robin is literally twiddling her thumbs when I make it through her doorway.

“Future daughter-in-law!” She gasps. She stands up so quickly that I hear the stool under her clatter to the ground.

I remove my bucket hat so Robin gets a clear view of my deadpan expression. “I can leave and go turn this hardwood into fencing.”

Robin just laughs as she steps out from behind the counter. “And miss out on all this cash?” She waves an envelope at me. “That seems so unlike you.”

Once we get my wagon unloaded, Robin insists I stay for lunch and coffee. We chat about my plans for upgrading the coop and possibly getting a shed built so I can expand my keg operation. Then we get on the topic of the upcoming fair and the smile on Robin’s face becomes slanted.

“I wish I could’ve seen Grandpa’s display,” I sigh. “But I never got to experience fall in the valley til this year.”

Robin sighs too. Gets this far-off look in her eyes. “Henry’s entry was always the best, even when he didn’t win first prize. Pierre’s looks good, but it’s pretty much the same every year. Your grandfather always had something new in his display. And he had more variety. Gemstones from the mines, mushrooms foraged in the woods, and the very best animal products and artisan goods O’Brien farm produced each year. Henry knew how to flaunt his abilities. And your grandmother’s of course. Her cooking was often the highlight of their entry.”

It should be nice, in a bittersweet, sentimental way, hearing Robin wax poetic about my grandparents and how talented and successful they were. It’s clear that she loved them as much as the rest of the valley did. But, all it does is cause an anxious murmur among the bots. Not only do I have Pierre to compete with, but I also have a legacy to live up to. And I have just over a week to do it.

“Well, hopefully I can give Pierre a run for his money this year.” I get up and grab our dishes so I can wash them. “Any idea if Seb’s up yet?”

There’s a long silence before Robin responds. “Not sure. I know he had a late night working.”

I opt to ignore her careful gaze on me. “Yeah, that’s what he told me. I think I’ll tempt fate and see about waking him.” There’s coffee left in the pot so I grab Seb’s “Just Don’t” mug from the cabinet and fill it up. “Thanks for lunch, Robin! It was great to catch up with you.”

It’s no surprise that I’m met with a weary groan when I knock on Seb’s door. “Special delivery,” I sing, before trying the door. It opens and I’m hit with a wave of deja vu as the light pours into Seb’s dark room in a line.

Sebastian squints up at me from where he’s lying under the covers. His left arm is folded under his head and his hair is a sight. When his eyes adjust, he sits up, grabs his phone, and a few seconds later, the lights come on, glowing warm and dim. I close the door behind me, dropping my bag on the couch before I bring the coffee over.

“I hope it’s still warm enough.” I sit on the edge of the bed, not even pretending not to ogle him as he takes a sip.

Seb downs half the mug, then places it on his bedside table. “Actual angel,” he rasps, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

I laugh and roll my eyes, trying to keep the incoming blush at bay. “How’d you sleep?”

“Awful,” Seb groans. “I had everything done but when I went to do a test run the whole thing crashed. It’s gonna take me all day to comb through and figure out what the issue is.” He looks at me with a guilty frown. “I might be here late again but project’s due at midnight so I should make it home tonight.”

My eyebrow twitches as those last few words catch in my head and ping-pong around. Seb just yawns and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, completely oblivious to what he just said.

“That’s fine,” I finally respond. “I’ll be out late catching the walleye anyway. You might even make it home before I do.”

He gets up, sporting nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and stretches. Mmm-mm.

“Maybe. Are you hanging out, or just performing drive-by miracles?”

I check the time on my phone. “I have a few hours before eel time. Was gonna go for a nap since I’ll be up so late, but I could be convinced to stay.”

Seb picks the mug back up and turns to peer at me over the rim. “Could you now?”

My lips curl into a smirk as I let my eyes rove up and down his form. “Yeah,” I nod. “Definitely.”

“Good. Why don’t you get undressed for me while I freshen up? I’d like breakfast in bed to go with this coffee.”

It takes me less than a minute to strip down, so rather than give my mind the opportunity to wander, I grab something random off Seb’s bookshelf. Cave Saga X. Looks interesting enough. I recline on Sebastian’s bed with my legs crossed and the book propped up on my tits and start reading.

By the time Seb emerges from the bathroom, I’ve actually become pretty engrossed in the plot. I don’t even bother looking up until I hear him chuckle.

“Nice pick. That’s a good one.”

I frown when I see that he’s got a pair of sweats on now. When I begin to put the book aside, Seb protests.

“No, no. Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Well alright then. I guess I can finish this chapter before-

A cold hand on my ankle pulls a gasp from me. I tip the book down so I can watch Seb uncross my legs.

“Keep reading, darling.” He drops to his knees and a shiver runs through me.

“There gonna be a quiz on this?” I quip breathlessly.

“Maybe.” Seb wraps his arms under my thighs and over my hips, tugging me to the edge of the bed. “You’d better study, just in case.” Then he’s lifting my legs over his shoulders. The feeling of his warm breath fanning over my core has my hips rocking up. Seb just hums and places an arm over my belly.

At first I try to play along. I actually make it through another page as Sebastian begins kissing up each thigh. My concentration begins to dwindle, though, and I’m forced to reread the section I’m on every time he pauses to suck a bit of skin between his teeth. By the time Seb’s tongue starts to run over the tendons at the crease of each thigh, my mind is blank and the book is nothing more than a prop.

When he begins to administer soft, careful licks to my outer labia, I press the book flat over my bare chest. Seb chuckles and pauses to look up at me.

“Tired of reading, angel?”

I nod, closing the book and setting it aside. “Turns out I’m illiterate.”

“It’s a comic book, there’s barely any words.”

“I think I’m blind too- oh fuck!” My head tips back as Seb places an open-mouthed kiss right over where I’m soaked for him.

“Your eyesight seems fine to me.” He does it again. And again and again. Practically making out with my slit without actually delving in where I need him to be.

“Fuck, Seb! I thought you had work to do.” My hips are twitching with the desire to grind against that wicked tongue.

“I do.” Another kiss. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make space for my favorite pastime.” I roll my eyes, but the feeling of his fingers finally spreading my labia apart recaptures my attention. “Just maintaining some work-life balance, y’know?”

Read the Full Chapter on AO3

#sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian #fanfic #seb x farmer #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley sebastian #ao3 fanfic #smut #stardew valley

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xasha777 · 7 months ago

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In the year 2147, the scars of the world’s history had long been etched into the genetic memory of humanity. One such memory was the devastating Atombombenabwürfe auf Hiroshima und Nagasaki, the atomic bombings that had reshaped not only the physical landscape but the very trajectory of human progress. From the ashes of the old world, a new era had been born, defined by its pursuit of preventing such a catastrophe ever again.

Among the bustling cyber-lanes of Neo-Tokyo, a descendant of survivors, Kira Yamamoto, walked with the weight of history in her steps. She was an agent of the Temporal Integrity Commission, a body established to monitor and regulate the use of time-travel technology, ensuring that history remained untouched by those who wished to rewrite it for their own benefit.

Kira was different. Beneath her skin, nano-circuitry blended with her cells, a biotechnological homage to the fusion of the past and the present. Her mission today was crucial: intercept a rogue faction intent on altering the course of World War II, aiming to prevent the nuclear bombings by introducing advanced technology to the Axis powers.

Her leather-like suit was not mere fashion; it was woven with fibers capable of deflecting energy blasts and its seams glinted with micro-sensors. As she moved through the neon-drenched evening, her sharp eyes scanned the crowd, a digital overlay mapping faces against known dissidents.

The holographic billboards cast a haunting glow, as images of mushroom clouds from centuries past served as a somber reminder to the pedestrians of Neo-Tokyo of the world that once was, and what could be again if history was tampered with.

Kira located the time-terrorists in an underground lab, obscured by the holographic façade of an old tea shop. She infiltrated the lab, her movements silent as shadows. There they were, huddled around a Chrono-Displacer, a device capable of sending both information and materials through time.

The terrorists were moments away from initiating the sequence when Kira made her move. A ballet of violence ensued, Kira’s enhanced reflexes allowing her to dodge plasma rounds and subdue her opponents with precision. As she approached the device, her mind raced with the implications of their plan. Altering the events of Hiroshima and Nagasaki could potentially save lives but at what cost? History's lessons were harsh but necessary; who were they to decide which ones stood the test of time?

With a swift series of commands, Kira initiated the device's self-destruct sequence. The lab was consumed in a silent implosion, the technology and the threat it posed, eradicated.

As she walked away from the scene, Kira pondered the delicate threads of history. Her existence, a tapestry woven from the fibers of past tragedies and triumphs, served as a guardian of time's sanctity. In her heart, the memory of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was both a wound and a warning, a dual testament to the horrors of war and the enduring hope for peace. The legacy of the past shaped Kira, and in turn, she would shape the future—one where history’s greatest mistakes would never be forgotten nor repeated.

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xtruss · 9 months ago

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The True History of Einstein's Role in Developing The Atomic Bomb

The Legendary Physicist Urged the U.S. to Build the Devastating Weapon During World War II—and Was Haunted by the Consequences. “I Did Not See Any Other Way Out.”

— By Erin Blakemore | February 21, 2024

A Mushroom Cloud Towers Over Nagasaki After the Detonation of an Atomic Bomb in 1945. Albert Einstein struggled with his role in the creation of the bomb and the devastation wrought by the U.S. bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II. Photograph By U.S Army Air Force Via Library of Congress

Albert Einstein is perhaps most famous for introducing the world to the equation E=mc2. In essence, he discovered that energy and mass are interchangeable, setting the stage for nuclear power—and atomic weapons.

His part in the drama of nuclear war may have ended there if not for a simple refrigerator.

In the 1920s, while living in Berlin, the physicist collaborated with Hungarian graduate assistant Leo Szilárd to develop and patent an energy-efficient fridge. While their design never went to market, the duo’s work ultimately embroiled Einstein—an avowed pacifist—in the race to create an atomic bomb during World War II.

Einstein would go on to argue vehemently to ban nuclear weapons worldwide in his later life, as he struggled with the deadly consequences of his scientific creation.

“His brilliance was also his downfall,” says National Geographic Explorer Ari Beser. “The revolution that came with the splitting of the atom requires a moral one as well.”

Einstein's Letter To Roosevelt

From the President’s Secretary’s Files. Einstein Letter. In the summer of 1939, a group of physicists, including several who hadfled Hitler’s Germany, met to discuss their fears of Germany developing a uranium-based weapon. It was decided that the best course of action was to immediately inform President Roosevelt of their concerns. Because Albert Einstein had a previous personal relationship with the Roosevelts and was internationally well-known for his expertise, a letter informing the President about the dangers of a nuclear chain reaction bomb was drafted for Einstein’s signature. This August 2, 1939 letter was personally delivered to the President on October 11, 1939 (the outbreak of the war intervened) by Alexander Sachs, a longtime economic adviser to FDR. After learning the letter’s contents, President Roosevelt told his military adviser General Edwin M. Watson, “This requires action.” The action FDR required would evolve into the Manhattan Project.

Even after Szilárd and Einstein ended their partnership over appliances, the two scientists stayed in touch.

In 1933, the same year Adolf Hitler became chancellor of Germany, Szilárd discovered the nuclear chain reaction—the process that unleashes the energy locked in atoms to create enormous explosions. And by 1939, he had became convinced that German scientists might be using current scientific developments to develop an atomic weapon.

So he approached his one-time colleague—then the world’s most famous scientist—and asked him to warn U.S. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

Szilárd visited Einstein in New York with two fellow refugees, Hungarian physicists Edward Teller and Eugene Wigner. When they told him about the possibility of a nuclear chain reaction, Einstein was shocked at the danger posed by his 1905 special theory of relativity.

“He certainly was not thinking about this theory as a weapon,” says Cynthia Kelly, president of the Atomic Heritage Foundation, a nonprofit organization she founded to preserve and interpret the Manhattan Project and its broader legacy. But “he quickly got the concept.”

Together with the other scientists, Einstein drafted a letter to Roosevelt that warned of what might happen if Nazi scientists beat the United States to an atom bomb.

“It appears almost certain that [a nuclear chain reaction] could be achieved in the immediate future,” he wrote, sounding the alarm on “extremely powerful bombs of a new type,” and advising that Roosevelt fund an initiative to research atomic energy.

Roosevelt took the warning seriously. On October 21, 1939, two months after receiving the letter and just days after Germany’s invasion of Poland, the Roosevelt-appointed Advisory Committee on Uranium met for the first time. It was the forerunner of the Manhattan Project, the top-secret government project that eventually invented a working atom bomb.

A Troubled Legacy

The committee was only given $6,000 in funding, so Einstein continued writing to the president, assisted by Szilárd, who wrote large portions of the letters. One letter even warned that Szilárd would publish key nuclear findings in a scientific journal if the initiative was not better funded.

In this way, Einstein helped spark the Manhattan Project, says Kelley, but “his actual involvement was very marginal.” The FBI file on the outspoken scientist—who openly criticized racism, capitalism, and war—would eventually grow to over 1,800 pages.

“In view of his radical background,” the FBI wrote, “this office would not recommend the employment of Dr. Einstein on matters of a secret nature.” In the end, Einstein never received security clearance to work on the Manhattan Project.

Still, his name is forever connected to the weapon born of his greatest discovery. He was devastated by news of the Hiroshima bombing—and humiliated by a TIME cover from 1946 that showed him in front of a mushroom cloud emblazoned with his famous equation.

Though Einstein worked to warn the world about the perils of nuclear proliferation for the rest of his life, he struggled to make sense of his responsibility.

“He is the father” of the atom bomb, says Beser, who is the grandson of the only U.S. serviceman aboard both planes that carried the atomic bombs to Japan.

Beser uses his storytelling to illustrate the aftermath of nuclear weapons. For instance, he visited Auschwitz with a survivor from Nagasaki, who was astonished at the connections between the bomb, which killed or wounded hundreds of thousands of civilians, and one of history’s other horrors—the Holocaust.

“I was well aware of the dreadful danger for all mankind, if these experiments would succeed,” Einstein wrote of the bomb’s development in a Japanese magazine in 1952. “I did not see any other way out.”

For Beser, Einstein’s dilemma illustrates the contradictions of the human condition: “The splitting of the atom changed everything, except the way we think,” he laments.

#Atomic Bomb 💣#Albert Einstein #Development of the Bomb 💣#Einstein’s Role #President Franklin Delano Roosevelt #Hiroshima | Nagasaki | Japan 🇯🇵#War Criminal United States 🇺🇸

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catadromously · 4 years ago

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I am absolutely fascinated by your tags for posts; they make me want to go back to doing fun tags. Were your tags inspired by anything, or are they just phrases you like? (Also, I absolutely adore your science comics, they are so, so lovely, especially the salmon one)

yes. yesssssss - my time has come.

most of them i got out of writing and music i like a whole bunch. here:

i’m just gonna go through the Official List as it appears in my about

while it passes your purpose remains (architecture and interiors) - from Monument Valley II, a video game about responsibility, creativity, legacy, and buildings

making music of decline (autumn) - from November for Beginners by Rita Dove

delicate cages (bodies and hands) from Taking the Hands by Robert Bly

end organs (cool flesh forms) - end organs are the structures on nerve endings that allow us to sense touch

here’s anyhow one decent thing (dog tag) - from Man and Dog by Siegfried Sassoon

long as amber of ember glows (fire) - from the song Would That I by Hozier

it was filled with water sounds & pebbles (freshwater) - from luam/asa-luam by Aracelis Girmay

city of apples (fruit) - from I Watch Her Eat the Apple by Natalia Diaz

each one a word spoken (linguistics) - from the short story The Author of the Acacia Seeds by Ursula K. Le Guin

wakened into song (music) - from the Silmarillion (where the world is made out of music)

return home (ocean tag) - just me

on the seashore of worlds (spaaaaaaace!) - from On the Seashore by Rabindranath Tagore (which is not about space, but that phrase makes me feel things about space)

familiar; unbidden (forests) - from Song for the Rainy Season by Elizabeth Bishop

everything's growing in our garden (abundance) - from the song Garden Song by Phoebe Bridgers

tales of sol iii (people’s stories) - just me (sol iii = Earth :D )

canines for a reason (consumption & carnivores) - from that one comic by grendelmenz

dreams of drowning (consumption but it's water this time) - just me

but instead of sounds we use things (creation) - from the episode Beta in Steven Universe, where an alien accidentally invents art and describes it to a human thusly:

“Oh no, this was all very intentional. You see, I have this idea: What if we made music, but instead of sounds, we use things?”

still spinning (cycles & spirals) - from the song Untitled God Song by Haley Heynderickx

inherit the earth (fungi, decay) - from Mushrooms by Sylvia Plath

the carpet on my cheek feels like a forest (domestic & mundane) - from the song Sloom by Of Monsters and Men

all my friends are funeral singers (death & funerary culture) - from the song Funeral Singers, by Califone but more famously covered by Sylvan Esso

every place i’ve ever lived is full of ghosts (haunted/connected across time things) - from the song Offering by Loone

love as a fresnel lens (nostos) - from the song Pando by Squalloscope

house theory (houses being bodies being houses) - just me

come into the water (swimming!! yay!!!) - from the eponymous song by Mitski

teapots can't talk (mechanical sympathy) - from What Did by Shel Silverstein

veil of great surprises (awe & wonder) from the song The Only Thing by Sufjan Stevens

running down the hills to you (love) - from the song Home With You by FKA Twigs

then praise the way they change (metamorphosis) - from the song This Too Shall Pass by Danny Schmidt

monstrous existence (monsters) - from the video game Night in the Woods (said by what is potentially god maybe)

do re microcosmos (people in their ordinary lives, archival photo) - just me. based on a poster i misread in middle school i think?

telepathic desert (long distance signalling) - from the eponymous song by Diane Cluck

texō (narrative) - etymology. root of text and textile!

five branches make the hand (trees being people being trees) - just me

oh maker tell me did you know (transhumanism, voidpunk) - from the song Oh Maker by Janelle Monae (which is about robots but i think it fits)

honeyed hearts (warmth) - from Daisy Time by Marjorie Pickthall

and there you have it! but be warned: this system shifts, expands, and mutates like the dreadful tentacular entity it is.

#honestly this is Such a compliment aaaaa #having an extremely cumbersome tag system is something that can actually be so personal -#call and response #about me #tag-alongs #[ref: tag origins]#also just so you know it was all matty's fault

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bearbaitmegs · 3 years ago

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I know I don’t have a lot of active followers here, but I’ve been going though some major changes in my life recently (both good and/or disorienting), and one of the things I am aiming to achieve with that is to reestablish myself online in some small way. Just casually, socially. I used to enjoy interacting and making friends online and some of my oldest friends remain people that I met through the web.

I hope these sporadic personal posts don’t bother you.

I think part of these changes that I’m aspiring to involve getting into the habit of simply posting more. I honestly am unsure of where to migrate to online outside of Tumblr. I’ve ditched Facebook except to check on businesses I’m planning on visiting and occasionally to sell something. I’m only on Snapchat and Instagram to follow one person. I haven’t logged into DeviantArt in almost 10 years. Yahoo 360 is long gone. Adjusting to Discord has been a slow and lurking process because it reminds me of some particularly haunting memories and it lacks most topics I’d be interested in (publicly, at least). Twitter never fit right. I refuse to engage with people on Ao3 or ffn because I’m very hesitant to engage with people who has the same media interests as I do because I’ve had far too much fandom-related trauma and drama and I still have trouble forming friend groups despite 9 years of distance

My brother has an undiagnosed and untreated personality disorder and it has often felt like his drama has been my defining feature for almost 2 years. I have gotten tired of carrying his monkey into all of my relationships and conversations, especially when trying to make new ones. I wish I had custody of my nephew because he and his ex are both sucky and neglectful, but all I can do is wait until the kid turns 18 or asks about emancipation. My brother deliberately seeks out relationships that renew and reinforce his past traumas in order to legitimize his unwillingness to move on and I hold him at least partially responsible for our parents’ decline in emotional, financial, and physical health. I recently opted to go for No Contact/Very Low Contact with him and it’s been freeing and refreshing and I feel immensely happier and more motivated.

I frequently feel like I don’t have anything worth saying or cannot really think of anything to say. It’s a work in progress. I have always carried a sense of awkwardness and that continues to persist into my 30s, despite the fact that I generally consider myself a confident person. I’ve been in a romantic relationship for 5 years and it fulfills 95% of my social and emotional needs, which... I think has led to leaving many of my other relationships to pasture.

Instinctively, I want to reach out and rectify all of these relationships all at once. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, and in trying to pace myself I find I often procrastinate. I set myself a goal of reaching out to a friend per week, but it’s more like one every two weeks. I know some of us will pick up where we left off like we’ve never been apart. Some of my friends will have moved on and our re-connection will separate again because we’re just different now and I’m honestly not bothered by that. It’s normal. I just hesitate because I don’t know where to start even though the script should be so easy. I feel annoying and needy. “Hey, I hope you’re well! I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I was thinking of you today every day.” Ugh.

I’m pretty financially, mentally, and physically stable and have been for a while. I like my job and I’m paid very well! I like me! I like my hobbies and my apartment! I’ve worked very hard to get here and there’s really only a few key things I want to improve upon.

But somehow I feel like I’m rediscovering myself again. Like I was shut out of something and didn’t even realize there was a door. I’ve missed something. I’m naturally comfortable alone and tend to be willfully obtuse about things that don’t involve me only to get startled by them later.

I moved back to my hometown 2 years ago in order to introduce my partner to my family and be around for some major family events. It was supposed to be a 4 month summer visit. The family drama just never stopped and I’m just...still here. I can’t wait to leave, but I also don’t resent my hometown as much as I did when I left. It’s changing immensely, but so am I. I definitely won’t be able to afford to stay.

I had a patio garden over the summer and, while we hardly got our money’s worth out of it, it was pretty and tasty and fulfilling. A few of the plants are overwintering with us.

I still haven’t lived somewhere that allows me a pet, but I keep saving stray cats.

I have way more fabric than I know what to do with from old clothes and dead ideas, but I finally tuned up my sewing machine and bought a set of sewing machine feet and I have lots of plans and ideas that I just need to sit down and actually execute. Especially embroidery.

I finally spent the damn $70 on an old school drawing tablet and took the time to download some free art programs. A modern tablet is still too much to budget for and a mouse and MS Paint is not enough. I do not know why it took me 10 freaking years when I’ve spent far more money on far less desirable luxuries.

I am hoping to find a decent enough mountain bike at a manageable price to do a long-distance cycling trip next year. If I don’t, I’ll divert to hiking a long-distance trail. I’ve never stopped craving spending weeks and weeks out in the woods with an overstuffed backpack since my first trek in 2016. I’m willing to go out of my way and budget hard to make it a reality on an annual basis.

I’m slowly picking away at my original story, JatGSL, a 10+ year Work In Progress, and I finally have a setting and characters that I feel good about and have a lot of fun imagining. I’m afraid to say much about it. It has dying androids and mushrooms and mythology and domesticated seals and braille and it takes place on a melted Antarctica. But my writing is a muscle long neglected and I don’t know if I’ll ever really get it back.

I sometimes think about moving some of my old fanfics over to Ao3 so they won’t be lost, but my old penname carries weight I’d rather not pick up and I don’t want to add anything else to JKR’s legacy and some of the things I wrote when I was 17-22 have aged pretty poorly. So, I hesitate and debate and do nothing.

I keep having simple, but neat ideas that nobody out in the market seems to be doing/making, but I lack the connections and knowledge to do anything with them.

My romantic partner is an amazingly perfect fit. Absolutely well-fitting, in-sync, mind-blowingly complementary in every way. I increasingly worry it might not last because my partner has 1 (ONE) key issue that I just can’t live with long term and if they can’t figure out a healthy way to cope I don’t know if I can go another 5 years dealing with it. I grew up with it. I won’t live with it.

It often feels odd to talk about myself (even here. even now) because I feel so much happier than I seem to be describing myself.

#megii's commentary #this is more a ramble than anything else

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idanwyn-et-al · 5 years ago

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Duets and Dastardly Deeds: A Harbor Herald Exclusive!

[The Palazzo Aldenard, Mist.]

Good day, lovely readers! It is daytime where you are, perhaps, yes? Or perhaps the stars have begun their slow scrawl across the darkened bowl of the heavens, the sun a memory to be gossiped about while Her Radiance is raising crops and crisping skins on the other side of our own star. Whatever light is creeping across your parquet floor, your larboard, your patch of forest, I hope to find you in good health and with a hankering to read about a most curious concert that took place at the Palazzo Aldenard’s Opera House a few days past.

This concert hall is well-known to many, but I confess, lovely readers, that it was this reporter’s first chance to visit the venerable venue for herself, and it did not disappoint. A crewmate of mine (ah yes, yours truly is a captain now, of her very own definitely-haunted ship; quite the tale of an unlikely inheritance, and utterly better-suited for another column entirely) and I took our seats, sharing uisghe and waiting for the show to begin. As this reporter is a long time fan of Savo’s (she is indirectly responsible for a prison sentence I served some years back, another story best shared over a plate of steak frites and a gallon of stout), I knew that her gnarled, underfed-despite-everyone’s-best-efforts paw brings a twist to every show, and inspires the audience to loosen up when confronted with the unexpected. Little did I know how much of a twist this show would wring itself into, like a wet rag squeezing water over still-smoldering embers! However, I am getting ahead of myself, lovelies.

The evening began with a dueling duet; T’ahlia and D’ahlia! D’ahlia played classical piano with poise and elegance, fingers running over the keys nimbly. T’ahlia echoed and responded with her ceruleum guitar, sending reverbs into the rafters. Still, D’ahlia was dauntless, playing the act of straight man to the showy comedy of T’ahlia’s riffs. Both showcased skill and playfulness with ease, getting things off to a joyful start.

The duo was joined by Hani Dan’na, singing a song about lost relationships. Resigned, lovely lyrics left many an eye wet; surely, it was the profusion of springtime blossoms outside that caused such a thing. Surely, that.

Lionnellais Deveraux and Rythas Brynelle next took the stage, a pas de deux in lyrical form about looking at oneself in the looking glass and resolving to change. The two tall, lithe performers did, indeed, seem to be looking into a mirror as their eyes met and their melodic runs tumbled into harmonies. To this reporter, they seemed to encapsulate the desire to make today the first day of the rest of their lives---to use a quote oft-seen in cross-stitch on one’s grandmama’s wall---but were almost daring the other to be the first to change.

Aero, a new performer to this reporter and many others in the audience, was as forthright about being high on Shroud mushrooms as he was about body positivity; he performed entirely in the nude, and one was certainly larger than the other (pupils, I mean. Pupils!). Savo provided riffs on her famed ten-stringed viol, and the pair brought levity to the stage. I do believe in a thing called love, even if it comes at the cost of Keepers of the Moon dragging you out into the woods and making you question all you’ve ever known.

Zanin Briggs and Rythas continued in this vein with the next piece; it seems they, too, are reluctant-yet-indulgent caretakers of Savo and Fheyla. Family may make you question everything, dear readers, but if they lead you to great adventures, things like fleas, questionable manners, and spotty hygiene can be overlooked.

A pair of mysterious Elezen women took the boards with a back-to-back set filled with as much fire as a bellyful of my late Papa’s famous uisghe. Injecting the room with a raw-hearted, toothy roar of lyrics meant to ignite the still-simmering resentment in Ishgard, these mysterious performers dressed to impress did just that! Yes, dear readers, although word out of those stony, snowcapped spires is that the Lord Commander has done his level best to close the gap between high and lowborn, it seems a thousand years of rigid social structures and war leave those still in the social depths wondering when their voices will really be heard. It was then when this reporter began to notice something of a theme throughout the night’s performances; unease, discontent, loss, building into...

FIRE! You read that right, faithful readers; a fire erupted backstage, and we were all summarily evacuated to the lawn for half a bell’s time. Take heart; the Palazzo’s staff were professional, efficient, and informative. I have now learned that if one must shout fire at a crowded theater, this is the theater in which to do so, lovelies. Once the blaze was contained, the show did indeed go on; and that, I believe, is my quota of cliched phrases for this article.

Once we had all filed back in---neatly and in single file, I assure you---Lionnellais and Rythas welcomed the audience back with a jaunty tune with the refrain “Under Censure”. This reporter must confess that the untimely fire combined with the lyrics that speak of restraints fraying under pressure had her wondering a great many things. Still, just as the show went on, so, too, must this article.

T’ahlia returned to the stage with an acoustic guitar, and was joined by Hesper of Trinity. The pair sang a soulful duet about an “army of two” that would stand against all odds and defy the world. Your faithful reporter was very much lost in her own thoughts and suppositions, but was briefly brought back to attention by the songstress Sif, who joined T’ahlia for the next piece. This one spoke of T’ahlia’s conflicted feelings of yearning and betrayal directed at her mother, a woman of the Shroud who did her best for the young Miqo’te and yet left her wanting. The duo of Sif and T’ahlia singing call-and-response that melded into soulful, wistful harmonies drew the audience in and included us in such tender, bittersweet recollections.

As their last chords were still lingering like dark tea on the sides of the tongue, we were all drawn to our feet by an upbeat, glittering tune about calling on shinobi when in need! True to the legacy of those infamous assassins, the stage effects were superb; one might even believe that said shinobi were hiding in plain sight, deploying mudra and shadow-smoke to great effect amongst the waving glow wands of the enthused crowd. This reporter could not help but muse over how some of the other performers might, indeed, be inspired to hire a shinobi for their current troubles that simmered along the floorboards along with the occasional puff of singed scenery.

T’ahlia and Dane Escherra brought us all back to those melancholy undercurrents, with the latter offering soulful vocals recounting being a wartime prostitute. They fight like men, die like boys, and the women are expected to pretend it doesn’t affect them, offer themselves up as trophies. It was a simple yet poignant view into a world that many would rather pretend does not exist; this reporter, for one, was more interested in the stories of these women than the wars that raged around them.

Oh, dear readers, how I do eat up the ilms of column space on this one! The final two acts followed the evening’s emotional hills and vales, leaving us on a hill of humor. Zeraia Reynard crooned and Savo clawed tunes about male Seekers of the Sun, and...well, the lyrics are not entirely fit for print, but in the interest of public health (and allowing for poetic embellishment), this reporter must firmly suggest that all those who have enjoyed sexual relations with male Seekers of the Sun be tested for diseases at your local chirurgeon. E’rin Rae’s finale piece, in which she joined the dogpile (catpile) upon male Seekers, was a humorous lament about how they all seem to prefer the same sex, and how she has resigned herself to this fact.

Though this sennight’s issue has been dedicated to my personal review of this revue, I must let you all in on a little secret; the fire that occurred backstage is quite suspicious, and this reporter will be writing another article or two as she investigates it. In the next sennight’s issue, please look forward to a collection of thoughts, statements, and observations by those that attended the show. In the meantime, I wish you all health and happiness, and would highly recommend the Palazzo Aldenard for its fine facility and superb entertainers.

Song and Scandal,

Idanwyn Lluanswys

Harbor Herald Food and Lifestyle Columnist

((tagging @palazzoaldenard , @savothesewercat , @rythasbrenelle , @fheylahaken , @whitherwanderer ! Please tag others, I am sleepy and forgetful. Thank you for the excellent show, and please stay tuned as Idanwyn does her best to investigate! I also enjoy going to concerts, restaurants, and other such fun social events to write articles, so message me here or on discord at #esper3592 if you’ve got something fun coming up!))

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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The Best Horror Movies to Stream

https://ift.tt/36P7Are

Updated for October 2020

The world of streaming horror movies can be an overwhelming place.

Let’s say you’ve got your Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu and HBO Max subscriptions all set and ready. Now you want to get terrified with the best horror movies you can find in time for Halloween. But there are so many options! What’s a horror addict to do?

Here you’ll find the master list. That’s right, we’ve hand-selected only the absolute best and most terrifying horror movies available on all the major streaming services and combined them here for your streaming (or screaming) pleasure.

Be sure to let us know if you make it through all 31!

Apostle

Available on: Netflix

Apostle comes from acclaimed The Raid director Gareth Evans and it’s his take on the horror genre. Spoiler alert: it’s a good one.

Dan Stevens stars as Thomas Richardson, a British man in the early 1900s who must rescue his sister, Jennifer, from the clutches of a murderous cult. Thomas successfully infiltrates the cult led by the charismatic Malcom Howe (Michael Sheen) and begins to ingratiate himself with the strange folks obsessed with bloodletting. Thomas soon comes to find that the object of the cult’s religious fervor may be more real than he’d prefer.

Apostle is a wild, atmospheric, and very gory good time.

The Blackcoat’s Daughter

Available on: Netflix

Some kids dream about being left overnight or even a week at certain locations to play, like say a mall or a Chuck E. Cheese. One place that no one wants to be left alone in, however, is a Catholic boarding school.

That’s the situation that Rose (Lucy Boynton) and Kat (Kiernan Shipka) find themselves in in the atmospheric and creepy The Blackcoat’s Daughter. When Rose and Kat’s parents are unable to pick them up for winter break, the two are forced to spend the week at their dingy Catholic boarding school. If that weren’t bad enough, Rose fears that she may be pregnant…oh, and the nuns might all be Satanists.

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Katharine Isabelle on How Ginger Snaps Explored the Horror of Womanhood

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The Blackcoat’s Daughter is an excellent debut directorial outing from Oz Perkins and another step on the right horror path for scream queens Shipka and Emma Roberts.

The Cabin in the Woods

Available on: Amazon Prime

A remote cabin in the woods is one of the most frequently occurring settings in all of horror. What better location for teenagers to be tormented by monsters, demons, or murderous hillbillies? Writer/Director Joss Whedon takes that tried and true setting and uses it as a jumping off points for one of the most successful metatextual horror movies in recent memory.

Like you would expect, The Cabin in the Woods features five college friends (all representing certain youthful archetypes, of course) renting a….well, a cabin in the woods. Soon things begin to go awry in a very traditional horror movie way. But then The Cabin in the Woods begins doling out some of the many tricks it has up its sleeve. This is a fascinating, very funny, and yet still creepy breakdown of horror tropes that any horror fan can enjoy.

The Changeling (1980)

Available on: Shudder

A classic haunted house ghost story that frequently makes horror best of lists The Changeling sees a bereaved composer move into a creepy mansion that’s been vacant for 12 years. Vacant that is, except for the spirit of a little boy who met an untimely death…

An unravelling mystery with a sense of intrigue and pathos that draws you into the narrative, all the way to the sad and disturbing final act revelation.

City of the Living Dead

Available on: Amazon Prime

Italian horror director Lucio Fulci kicked off his famous “Gates of Hell” trilogy with this gruesome, crude but surreal 1980 gorefest, in which a reporter (Christopher George) and a psychic (Catriona MacColl) struggle to stop those gates from opening and letting a horde of hungry undead into the world.

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The Horror Movies That May Owe Their Existence To H.P. Lovecraft

By Don Kaye

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By Rosie Fletcher

Fulci loosely based the movie on the works of H.P. Lovecraft, vying for the latter’s brooding atmosphere while indulging in his own trademark splatter. The results are somewhat slapdash but a must-see for Italian horror fans. Followed by the much better The Beyond (1980) and House by the Cemetery (1981).

The Dead Zone

Available on: Amazon Prime

The Dead Zone strangely remains both one of Stephen King’s more underrated movie adaptations as well as one of director David Cronenberg’s more unsung efforts. Yet it ends up being among the best from both author and auteur, while also providing star Christopher Walken with one of his most moving, complex performances to date.

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Walken’s Johnny Smith awakens from a coma to find out he’s lost five years of his life but gained a frightening talent to touch people and see both their deepest secrets and their future. Whether to use that power to impact the world around him is the choice he must face in this bittersweet, eerie and heartfelt film, which found Cronenberg moving away from his trademark body horror for the first time.

Doctor Sleep

Available on: HBO Max

Let’s be up front about this: Doctor Sleep is not The Shining. For some that fact will make this sequel’s existence unforgivable. Yet there is a stoic beauty and creepy despair just waiting to be experienced by those willing to accept Doctor Sleep on its own terms.

Directed by one of the genre’s modern masters, Mike Flanagan, the movie had the unenviable task of combining one of King’s most disappointing texts with the opposing sensibilities of Stanley Kubrick’s singular The Shining adaptation.

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Doctor Sleep: Inside the New Overlook Hotel

By John Saavedra

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Doctor Sleep Ending Explained

By John Saavedra

And yet, the result is an effective thriller about lifelong regrets and trauma personified by the ghostly specters of the Overlook Hotel. But they’re far from the only horrors here. Rebecca Ferguson is absolutely chilling as the smiling villain Rose the Hat, and the scene where she and other literal energy vampires descend upon young Jacob Tremblay is the stuff of nightmares. Genuinely, it’s a scene you won’t forget, for better or worse….

The Evil Dead

Available on: Netflix

1981’s The Evil Dead is nothing less than one of the biggest success stories in horror movie history.

Written and directed on a shoestring budget by Sam Raimi, The Evil Dead uses traditional horror tropes to its great advantage, creating a scary, funny, and almost inconceivably bloody story about five college students who encounter a spot of bother in a cabin in the middle of the woods. That spot of bother includes the unwitting release of a legion of demons upon the world.

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Evil Dead Movies: The Most Soul Sucking Moments

By David Crow

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Living with the Cult Legacy of Evil Dead

By Hannah Bonner

The Evil Dead rightfully made stars of its creator and lead Bruce Campbell. It was also the jumping off point for a successful franchise that includes two sequels, a remake, a TV show, and more.

A Field in England

Available on: Amazon Prime

2013’s A Field in England presents compelling evidence that more horror movies should be shot in black and white.

Directed by British director Ben Wheatley, A Field in England is a kaleidoscope of trippy, cerebral horror. The film takes place in 1648, during the English Civil War. A group of soldiers is taken in by a kindly man, who is soon revealed to be an alchemist. The alchemist takes the soldiers to a vast field of mushrooms where they are subjected to a series of mind-altering, nightmarish visions.

A Field in England is aggressively weird, creative, and best of all clocks in at exactly 90 minutes.

Fright Night

Available on: Amazon Prime

Screenwriter-turned-director Tom Holland lets a jaded, smarmy vampire named Jerry Dandridge loose in suburbia and watches the blood spurt in this beloved ‘80s horror staple.

Chris Sarandon brings a nice combination of amusement and menace to the role of the bloodsucker, while Planet of the Apes veteran Roddy McDowall is endearing as a washed-up horror host recruited into a real-life horror show. Much of Fright Night is teen-oriented and somewhat dated, but it still works as a sort of precursor to later post-modern horror gems like Scream.

Green Room

Available on: Netflix

Green Room is a shockingly conventional horror movie despite not having all of the elements we traditionally associate with them. There are no monsters or the supernatural in Green Room.

Instead all monsters are replaced by vengeful neo-Nazis and the haunted house is replaced by a skinhead punk music club in the middle of nowhere in the Oregon woods. The band The Aint Rights, led by bassist Pat (Anton Yelchin) are locked in the green room of club after witnessing a murder and must fight their way out.

Hellraiser (1987)

Available on: Shudder

Directed by Clive Barker based on his novella The Hellbound Heart, Hellraiser is an infernal body horror featuring S&M demons who’ve found a way out of a dark dimension and want to take you back there.

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Michael Myers vs Pinhead: The Hellraiser/Halloween Crossover That Never Was

By Jack Beresford

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By Jamie Andrew

This is the movie which introduced chief Cenobite Pinhead (played by Doug Bradley) – who would return for seven more Hellraiser sequels. But the first is of course, remains the edgiest and the best. Hellbound: Hellraiser II is also available.

Hereditary

Available on: Amazon Prime

Between Hereditary and The Haunting of Hill House 2018 was a great year for turning familial trauma into horror.

Written and directed by Ari Aster, Hereditary follows the Graham family as they deal with the death of their secretive grandmother. As Annie Graham (Toni Collette) comes to terms with the loss, she begins to realize that she may have inherited a mental illness from her late mother…or something worse.

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Hereditary: The Real Story of King Paimon

By Tony Sokol

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Hereditary Ending Explained

By David Crow

Hereditary is terrifying because it asks a deceptively simple but truly creepy question: what do we really inherit from our family?

The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

Available on: Shudder

Wes Craven’s 1977 cult classic sees an extended family become stranded in the desert when their trailer breaks down and they start to get picked off by cannibals living in the hills. It’s brutally violent but it also has things to say about the nature of violence, as the seemingly civilized Carter family turn feral. The film was remade in 2006 but the original is still the best.

Horror of Dracula

Available on: HBO Max

Replacing Bela Lugosi as Dracula was not easily done in 1958. It’s still not easily done now. Which makes the fact that Christopher Lee turned Bram Stoker’s vampire into his own screen legend in Horror of Dracula all the more remarkable. Filmed in vivid color by director Terence Fisher, Horror of Dracula brought gushing bright red to the movie vampire, which up until then had been mostly relegated to black and white shadows.

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Bram Stoker’s Dracula and the Seduction of Old School Movie Magic

By David Crow

BBC/Netflix Dracula’s Behind-the-Scenes Set Secrets

By Louisa Mellor

With its penchant for gore and heaving bosoms, Horror of Dracula set the template for what became Hammer Film Productions’ singular brand of horror iconography, but it’s also done rather tastefully the first time out here, not least of all because of Lee bring this aggressively cold-blooded version of Stoker’s monster to life. It’s all business with this guy.

Conversely, Abraham Van Helsing was never more dashing than when played by Peter Cushing in this movie. The film turned both into genre stars, and paved the way for a career of doing this dance time and again.

The House of the Devil

Available on: Amazon Prime

Indie horror auteur Ti West’s low-budget creepfest is a homage to 1980s horror yet plays it straight; he sets out to make a movie with the feel of genre films from that era without making self-aware in-jokes and references — and he mostly succeeds.

But The House of the Devil is also the definition of a “slow burn”: very little happens for much of the first hour (save a jolt here and there) and then the third act explodes into a paroxysm of murder, gore and Satanic horror. That makes the film feel a little off-balance, although in the end it all becomes quite unnerving.

House on Haunted Hill

Available on: Amazon Prime

What would you do for $10,000? How about surviving a night in a mansion haunted by murder victims and owned by a psychotic millionaire? Seems like a party trick until people actually start dying.

Vincent Price is the master and mastermind of a house that suddenly makes everyone homicidal—but the real pièce de résistance is what dances out of a vat of flesh-eating acid.

Some vintage horror never dies, and this 1959 classic is immortal.

Hush

Available on: Netflix

In his follow-up to the cult classic Oculus, Mike Flanagan makes one of the cleverer horror movies on this list. Hush is a thrilling game of cat-and-mouse with the typical nightmare of a home invasion occurring, yet it also turns conventions of that familiar terror on its head. For instance, the savvy angle about this movie is Kate Siegel (who co-wrote the movie with Flanagan) plays Maddie, a deaf and mute woman living in the woods alone. Like Audrey Hepburn’s blind woman from the progenitor of home invasion stories, Wait Until Dark (1967), Maddie is completely isolated when she is marked for death by a menacing monster in human flesh.

Further, like the masked villains of so many more generic home invasion movies (we’re looking square at you, Strangers), John Gallagher Jr.’s “Man” wears a mask as he sneaks into her house. However, the functions of this story are laid bare since we actually keep an eye on what the “Man” is doing at all times, and how he is getting or not getting into the house in any given scene. He is not aided by filmmakers who’ve given him faux-supernatural and omnipotent abilities like other versions of these stories, and he’s not an “Other;” he is a man who does take his mask off, and his lust for murder is not so much fetishized as shown for the repulsive behavior that it is. And still, Maddie proves to be both resourceful and painfully ill-equipped to take him on in this tense battle of wills.

The Invitation

Available on: Netflix

Seeing your ex is always uncomfortable, but imagine if your ex-wife invited you to a dinner party with her new husband? That is just about the least creepy thing in this new, taut thriller nestled in the Hollywood Hills. Indeed, in The Invitation Logan Marshall-Green’s Will is invited by his estranged wife (Tammy Blanchard) for dinner with her new hubby David (Michael Huisman of Game of Thrones). David apparently wanted to extend the bread-breaking offer personally since he has something he wants to invite both Will and all his other guests into joining. And it isn’t a game of Scrabble…

Intense, strange, and not what you expect, this is one of the more inventive thrillers of 2016.

Midsommar

Available on: Amazon Prime

It’s hard to categorize Midsommar, Ari Aster’s follow-up to his absolutely terrifying horror debut, Hereditary. Part straight up horror, part The Wicker Man, and part anthropological study, Midsommar seems to occupy many genres all at once. Aster himself called it a “break up” movie. But whatever genre Midsommar is, it is a brilliant, and at times deeply disturbing film.

Florence Pugh stars as Dani, a young woman trying to heal in the wake of an enormous tragedy. Dani follows her boyfriend, Christian, and his annoying friends to an important midsummer festival deep in the heart of Sweden. Christian and company are there partly to get high and have fun and also partly to study the unique, isolated culture for their respective theses. To say that they get more than they bargained for is an understatement. But Dani may just end up getting exactly what she needs.

Night of the Living Dead

Available on: Amazon Prime, HBO Max

George A. Romero’s 1968 zombie classic The Night of the Living Dead messed up the minds of late ’60s moviegoers as much as it messed with every horror movie that followed. Shot on gritty black and white stock, the film captures the desperate urgency of a documentary shot at the end of the world. It is a tale of survival, an allegory for the Vietnam War and racism and suspenseful as hell freezing over.

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Night of the Living Dead set a new standard for gore, even though you could tell some of the bones the zombies were munching came from a local butcher shop. But what grabs at you are the unexpected shocks. Long before The Walking Dead, Romero caught the terror that could erupt from any character, at any time.

They’re coming to get you. There’s one of them now!

Nosferatu

Available on: Amazon Prime

Nothing beats a classic, and that’s exactly what Nosferatu is. As the unofficial 1922 adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, this German Expressionist masterpiece was almost lost to the ages when the filmmakers lost a copyright lawsuit with Stoker’s widow (who had a point). As a result, most copies were destroyed…but a precious few survived

This definitive horror movie from F.W. Murnau might be a silent picture, but it’s a haunting one where vampirism is used as a metaphor for plague and the Black Death sweeping across Europe. When Count Orlock comes to Berlin, he brings rivers of rats with him and the most repellent visage ever presented by a cinematic bloodsucker.

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By Tony Sokol

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By David Crow

The sexy vampires would come later, starting with 1931’s more polished vision of Count Dracula as legendarily played by Bela Lugosi, but Max Schreck is buried under gobs of makeup in Nosferatu making him resemble an emaciated cadaver. Murnau plays with shadow and light to create an intoxicating environment of fever dream repressions. But he also creates the most haunting cinematic image of a vampire yet put on screen.

Pet Sematary (2019)

Available on: Amazon, Hulu

After the classic Stephen King novel of the same name and Mary Lambert’s 1989 movie, what could there possibly be left to say about Pet Sematary? Quite a lot actually! Directors Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer breathe new life into this old tale…not unlike a certain “sematary” itself.

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By John Saavedra

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On the Set with Pet Sematary’s Producer

By Nick Morgulis

Jason Clarke stars as Louis Creed, an ER doctor from Boston who moves his family to rural Ludlow, Maine to live a quieter life. Shortly into their stay, Louis and his wife Rachel (Amy Semeitz) experience an unthinkable tragedy. That’s ok though as neighbor Jud Crandall (John Lithgow) knows a very peculiar place that can help.

Phantasm

Available on: Amazon Prime

Director and writer Don Coscarelli has said that this 1979 cult classic was inspired by a recurring dream — and we believe him, since Phantasm has the surreal, not-quite-there feel of an inescapable nightmare from start to finish.

With its bizarre plot about a funeral parlor acting as a front to send undead slave labor to another dimension, the iconic image of the Tall Man, killer dwarves and those deadly silver spheres, Phantasm was and is like no other movie of its era.

Poltergeist

Available on: Netflix

Before there was Insidious, The Conjuring, or a myriad of other “suburban family vs. haunted house” movies, there was Poltergeist. Taking ghost stories out of the Gothic setting of ancient castles or decrepit mansions and hotels, Poltergeist moved the spirits into the middle class American heartland of the 1980s. With a smart screenplay by no less than Steven Spielberg (and, according to some, his ghost direction), Poltergeist finds the Freeling family privy to a disquieting fact about their new home: It’s built on top of a cemetery!

You probably know the story, and if you don’t you can guess it after decades of copycats that followed, but this special effects-laden spectacle still holds up, especially as a thriller that can be enjoyed by the whole family. Fair warning though, if your kids have a tree outside their window or a clown doll under their bed, we don’t take responsibility for the years of therapy bills this may inflict!

Ready or Not

Available on: HBO Max

The surprise horror joy of 2019, Ready or Not was a wicked breath of fresh air from the creative team Radio Silence. With a star-making lead turn by Samara Weaving, the movie is essentially a reworking of The Most Dangerous Game where a bride is being hunted by her groom’s entire wedding party on the night of their nuptials.

It’s a nutty premise that has a delicious (and broad) satirical subtext about the indulgences and eccentricities of the rich, as the would-be extended family of Grace (Weaving) is only pursuing her because they’re convinced a grandfather made a deal with the Devil for their wealth–and to keep it they must step on those beneath them every generation. Well step, shoot, stab, and ritualistically sacrifice in this cruelest game of hide and seek ever. Come for the gonzo high-concept and stay for the supremely satisfying ending.

Sweetheart

Available on: Netflix

Don’t let the name fool you, Sweetheart is very much a horror movie. What kind of horror movie, you ask? Well, after a boat sinks during a storm, young Jennifer Remming (Kiersey Clemons) is the only survivor. She washes ashore a small island and gets to work burying her friends, creating shelter, and foraging for food. You know: deserted island stuff.

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Soon, however, Jenn will come to find that the island is not as deserted as she previously thought. There’s something out there – something big, dangerous, and hungry. Sweetheart is like Castaway meets Predator and it’s another indie horror hit for Blumhouse.

The Tenant

Available on: Amazon Prime

Roman Polanski, in addition to being a creep and outright sex criminal, has a grand fascination with apartments, directing an unofficial “Apartment Trilogy” with Repulsion, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Tenant. And it’s not hard to see why. There is something a little strange about dozens if not hundreds of relative strangers all calling the same place “home.”

1976’s The Tenant is the culmination of Polanski’s obsession with communal living and in some ways is the creepiest. Polanski stars as Trelkovsky, a paranoid young file clerk who is on the verge of succumbing to the constant dread he feels. Things are exacerbated when Trelkovsky moves into a Parisian apartment and discovers the previous occupant killed herself. What follows is a tense and trippy exploration of fear itself.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

Available on: Shudder

You’ve probably seen this one already, but this founding father of the slasher genre is a bit of a fairy tale when glimpsed at the right light. Some dumb kids wander into the wilderness, far away from the safety of civilization, on a trip to their grandparents’ home.

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By Ryan Lambie

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By Tony Sokol

But instead of reaching their destination, they wind up on the dinner table for the “Other,” who in this case is a redneck family of cannibals with a crossdressing serial killer who’s weapon of choice has an electric motor that makes a sweet hum as its blades tear into your flesh. When viewed like that, it might be worth seeing all over again, eh?

Under the Shadow

Available on: Netflix

This recent 2016 effort could not possibly be more timely as it sympathizes, and terrorizes, an Iranian single mother and child in 1980s Tehran. Like a draconian travel ban, Shideh (Narges Rashidi) and her son Dorsa (Avin Manshadi) are malevolently targeted by a force of supreme evil.

This occurs after Dorsa’s father, a doctor, is called away to serve the Iranian army in post-revolution and war-torn Iran. In his absence evil seeps in… as does a quality horror movie with heightened emotional weight.

Underworld

Available on: Netflix

No one is going to mistake Underworld for high art. That obvious fact makes the lofty pretensions of these movies all the more endearing. With a cast of high-minded British theatrical actors, many trained in the Royal Shakespeare Company, at least the early movies in this Gothic horror/action mash-up series were overflowing with histrionic self-importance and grandiosity.

Take the first and best in the series. In the margins you have Bill Nighy and Michael Sheen portraying the patriarchs of warring factions of vampires and werewolves, and a love story caught between their violence that’s shamelessly modeled on Romeo and Juliet. It’s ridiculous, especially with Scott Speedman playing one party. But when the other is the oft-underrated Kate Beckinsale it doesn’t matter.

The movie’s bombast becomes its first virtue, and Len Wiseman’s penchant for glossy slick visuals, which would look at home in the sexiest Eurotrash graphic novel at the bookstore, is its other. Combined they make this a guilty good time. Though we recommend not venturing past the second or third movie.

Available on: HBO Max

Jordan Peele’s debut feature Get Out was a near instant horror classic so anticipation was high for his follow-up. Thanks to an excellent script, Peele’s deep appreciation of pop culture, and some stellar performances, Us more than lives up to the hype.

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Us: Jordan Peele’s References and Influences

By David Crow

Us tells the story of the Wilson family from Santa Cruz. After a seemingly normal trip to a summer home and the beach, Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o), Gabe (Winston Duke) and their two kids are confronted by their own doppelgangers, are weird, barely verbal, and wearing red. That’s just the beginning of the horror at play for the Wilsons and the world. Fittingly, Us feels like a feature length Twilight Zone concept done right.

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The post The Best Horror Movies to Stream appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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hollandwestbrook · 3 years ago

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ALONE // SELF-PARA

She wandered from the mansion district, unnerved by the way the sheets seemed to haunt her, even once they were out of her view. She was convinced that it was some dark omen, that it meant something was coming for her. Something bad. This was ridiculous, she knew — something bad was coming for all of them. Perhaps all over this Arena, small things were planted for each tribute that were designed specifically to mess with their heads. That had been what Sloane had said, after all, that they were messing with her. It was mind games.

Wasn’t it all? Her very death had been mind games, though she wondered even now who it was meant to torture. Her father, surely, not her. Because she was dead. To kill her at the piano, it was all theatrics, what had ever come of it? She wondered, wondered — but if she didn’t make it out, she’d never have answers.

Then, the nagging fear that had plagued her the last few days: what if the answers made living more difficult? What if she found that her father’s sins were simply too much to account for, and her death had been correct, had been the right thing, even? She didn’t know. She didn’t know.

She was exhausted, moving through the woods as the sun set on the Arena. She recognized the woods, though, the moss, the thick tree trunks, the vines hanging from one tree to another. The thick green vegetation on the ground turned dark by the absence of the sun. As she ventured further, she somehow became less afraid; these woods were familiar and they felt like home. She could almost hear the saws hitting the trunks; trees hitting the ground. This was home.

She felt like she had managed some return, and she knelt down, determined to find food before the sun fully set. She would need shelter as well, but that could be arranged more easily; perhaps she could even sleep in a tree. Food, though, this was difficult, especially when so many of the plants were likely to be poisonous. Alder had told her this, and she had tested herself on the plant identification simulator, as well. But at least these were plants native to where she had grown up. There had always been food on the table in the Arbore house, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t identify what was edible and what was not from the forest. Being a child in a starving district meant learning to live off the land, even if you never needed to use your knowledge.

Her hands moved deftly and she crawled in her suit, hoping that the cameras weren’t on her just then, because she probably wasn’t being very graceful as she moved across the forest floor like an animal. The thought of animals did send her heart beating a bit faster; she knew there were likely to be plenty of animals in these woods who weren’t happy for her presence, but she could only solve one problem at a time.

She stood after awhile, clutching a few edible berries and mushrooms in her palms. She’d have to find some way to get real food later, something with protein, but this would do for now. It would calm her growling stomach — for awhile, at least.

She was eating the last of her berries when she heard something moving near her in the woods; it could have been tribute or animal, she didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. She broke into a run; after only a moment she saw the cabin’s outline in the woods. Shelter? Could she truly be so lucky?

She didn’t even think, didn’t have time to think, sure that she was being pursued, before flinging open the door, stepping inside, and closing it behind her. She brought down the wooden board that served as a lock and leaned up against the door, breathing heavily. It was only after she had managed to stabilize her breath and convince herself that there was no tribute or animal after all, or at least, that they had gone elsewhere, wanted to find easier prey, that she finally took a moment to look around her.

The cabin was in relative darkness thanks to the setting sun, only a bit of sunlight creeping in now through the western window, darkened by the thick tree cover. There was a bed, though its mattress had long since been depleted by the various animals who likely called this place home. She sat on the chair for only a moment before getting up again, restless even through her exhaustion, and opening the cabinets. She found a box of matches and pocketed a few; while she may have been able to start a fire during her skills presentation using her hair, she didn’t have much left to speak of now.

She turned, her attention drawn by the mirror on the wall, the thoughts of her hair. She peered into it, approaching, looking at herself and the short cut her stylist had attempted to fix after her presentation. But it only took a moment before her own reflection faded; startled, she glanced behind her, as if someone were controlling this from inside the cabin, but she was alone.

Completely alone.

The face that appeared then in place of her own was her father’s.

She had no idea why he would be here, how the Gamemakers would put him here, how they would know to. But this was a cruel future she’d been reborn into, and they did not pull their punches.

Her father. Rowan Arbore, a complicated figure in the history of District Seven according to Olive, an oppressive and cruel leader, but also her father. The person who had made up songs and rhymes using her name to delight her as a child; who had made the absence of her mother less gaping by filling it with himself. Who had loved and doted on her more than any other child in Seven was loved and doted upon by their parents, she had been certain of it.

Now, though, he was dead. He had left behind a legacy that was dragged through the muck in her home district. He had ruined people’s lives, killed them via neglect, starvation, overwork. He was a monster.

He was her father.

And his visage was here before her.

The cabin door closed behind her as she ran out, no longer caring about whatever it was that may have been pursuing her. Let it get her.

#125 #day 1 #loc: sector vii #arena task #successfully identify an edible plant #hide from someone in the cabin in sector VII #spot someone familiar in the mirror in sector VII #it's 1000 words!

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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

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People, October 19

Cover: Prince William and Prince Harry -- battle of the brothers

Page 1: Chatter -- Sharon Osbourne on how often she gets intimate with her husband Ozzy Osbourne, Jason Alexander on his villainous role as a lawyer who tries to rape Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman, Hilary Duff on growing up in the spotlight, Zoe Kravitz joking about her Catwoman costume not fitting after quarantine, Eva Mendes replying to a troll who said husband Ryan Gosling should get her out more, Victoria Beckham on being called Posh Spice

Page 2: 5 Things We’re Talking About This Week -- The Crown gets ready for Princess Diana’s wedding, the Schitt’s Creek motel goes up for sale, John Lennon’s glasses sell for $57,300, Elf cereal hits shelves, Young Rock finds its stars

Page 5: Contents

Page 8: StarTracks -- Stars On-Set -- John Krasinski gives a thumbs-up in between takes on Amazon’s Jack Ryan at the Hotel St. Regis in Rome

Page 9: Penelope Cruz and Antonio Banderas went full-on glam to film the Spanish comedy Official Competition in Madrid, Anne Hathaway looked serious on the set of her upcoming pandemic-themed movie Lockdown in London, decked in medieval attire Matt Damon got back to work on The Last Duel in Ireland

Page 10: Saturday Night Live filmed its first in-studio show since March opening with a parody of the presidential debate with Jim Carrey as Joe Biden and Maya Rudolph and Kamala Harris, during her performance on SNL Megan Thee Stallion spoke out about the death of Breonna Taylor, Pierce Brosnan soaked up the sun while out for an oceanside stroll in Kauai, Selma Blair ran errands in Los Angeles

Page 11: Rihanna’s starry runway -- Rihanna’s pretaped 2020 Savage X Fenty fashion show featured several famous faces modeling her new collection, Paris Hilton posed with Willow Smith backstage, Miguel sang onstage while his wife Nazanin Mandi Pimentel walked in the show, Lizzo modeling lingerie, Demi Moore caught up with Bella Hadid after the show

Page 12: Evan Ross and Ashlee Simpson Ross got a jump-start on Halloween when they took their family to the Nights of the Jack’s drive-through experience in Calabasas, Lili Reinhart took a stroll with her dog Milo in Vancouver, Justin Bieber documented his date night with Hailey Bieber after celebrating their September wedding anniversary, Sofia Richie shared a photo with her sister Nicole Richie and niece Harlow Madden

Page 13: Florida Georgia Line’s Tyler Hubbard welcomes baby No. 3 with with Hayley

Page 17: Scoop -- Naya Rivera’s sister Nickayla Rivera and ex-husband Ryan Dorsey unite for her son Josey

Page 18: Baby Boom -- Usher and Jenn Goicoechea, Kevin and Eniko Hart

Page 20: Heart Monitor -- Chrissy Metz and Bradley Collins new couple, Toni Garrn and Alex Pettyfer just married, Kaia Gerber and Jacob Elordi heating up, Kendall Jenner and Devin Booker going strong

Page 21: The Bachelorette Clare Crawley -- I had to follow my heart

Page 22: Hoda Kotb on wedding plans and family time, Lin-Manuel Miranda honors his dad

Page 23: Alexa and Carlos PenaVega -- from child stars to #CoupleGoals

Page 24: Passages, Why I Care -- Iman fights to end poverty by empowering women and young girls in developing nations

Page 25: COVID-19 strikes President Trump -- the White House becomes the pandemic’s latest hot zone with coronavirus sickening the President and First Lady and more than a dozen others

Page 27: Stories to make you smile -- rescue pups don couture hats for a good cause, a Brooklyn teen opens her own beauty supply store

Page 29: People Picks -- The Haunting of Bly Manor

Page 30: The Forty-Year-Old Version, Connecting, All Love Everything from Aloe Blacc, Q&A with Finn Wittrock

Page 32: Yellow Rose, One to Watch -- The Spanish Princess’s Charlotte Hope

Page 33: The War with Grandpa, The Right Stuff

Page 34: Books, New in Audio: Stars Speak for Themselves -- Jerry Seinfeld, Maggie Smith, Mariah Carey

Page 36: Cover Story -- Prince William and Prince Harry -- inside their broken bond -- an explosive book details the childhood wounds and simmering tensions that led to a historic division between the brothers

Page 44: A DNA Kit and a shocking revelation -- my cousin the killer -- when Chelsea Rustad put her genetic information online she helped solve a 31-year-old case

Page 46: Chrissy Teigen and John Legend’s heartbreaking loss -- after sharing the deep pain of losing their third child the couple move others to speak out about miscarriage and pregnancy loss

Page 51: Julie Bowen -- what I know now -- the actress opens up about life after Modern Family and imperfect parenting and trying to take care of herself

Page 54: When his wife was killed by a distracted driver Curtis Nielsen instantly became a heartbroken single father of four but instead of seeking vengeance he chose to embrace forgiveness

Page 58: Jeff Bridges -- The Dude on being a dad -- the actor and his oldest daughter Isabelle open up about embarrassing wedding speeches and regrettable piercings and the special bond between dads and daughters

Page 62: K-Pop superstars Blackpink -- the new queens of pop -- the record-shattering quartet open up about what it’s like to shoot to global fame and how they’ve bonded as sisters

Page 65: Patty Smyth and John McEnroe -- our rock ‘n’ roll marriage -- the singer-songwriter and the tennis legend get real about their blended brood and how they keep their marriage steamy after 23 years

Page 69: 13-year-old singer Keedron Bryant -- I want to live without fear -- his song about life as a young black man went viral and now he’s using his voice to fight injustice and turn his dreams into reality

Page 71: Hollywood at Home -- Bryan and Leighanne Littrell’s timeless chateau -- a palace for pop reality -- The Backstreet Boy and his wife hope to leave a lasting legacy with a sprawling mansion they’ve called home for 20 years

Page 82: Mena Massoud’s recipe for Avocado Toast with Shiitake “Bacon” -- the Aladdin star and author of the Evolving Vegan cookbook shares a healthy breakfast topped with crispy bacon-flavored mushrooms that he fell in love with

Page 87: Second Look -- J. Anthony Brown and David Mann in Tyler Perry’s Assisted Living

Page 88: One Last Thing -- Patrick Dempsey

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thechildrendontlaugh · 6 years ago

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The Pain of Becoming; the Stillness of Dreaming

I had thought about killing myself on the first of the new year. I stood just past the shores of the river outside my home in the decaying sunlight, and fought with myself about why I should walk just a little further—how I had no stones in my pockets, but that it only took a puddle really, to drown oneself.

The demons that haunt you, I’ve found time and time again, don’t ever go away. They wait, dormant, waiting for you to see a blurred picture of what could have been but isn’t me, when you are vomiting, violently, because your emotions have once again gotten the better of you, slouched over the trash can, gripping your sides and just wanting it to end, wanting it all to end. Those demons unearth themselves, and they assure you, it’s so much kinder down here with them. It was such a painful night, for all the reasons I am already so painfully intimately familiar with, those steadily reoccurring nightmares of, “I am not enough—I am always, forever, never enough.” It never goes away.

I had wanted Logan, specifically, to think I was dead, and I found myself terrified of ever speaking publicly again. Announcing myself on social media felt like saying I was healed—recovered, OK. Moved on. So much of my life has consisted of me being afraid of standing still, and now it has become the thing that has helped save me. Standing still in the middle of that river, torn between going a step further, or returning back to shore. Standing still in that moment of my life, begging myself to cry out for help, but also needing to just stay quiet, to collapse into myself and fall into the water and fade away. And it took hitting another kind of rock bottom, for me to find myself where I am now. Standing in the sun, beckoning the Light to fill me up and hold me in all spaces I have caved in.

This is what recovery looks like. This is what healing—finally—feels like. It has always been messy and uneven. Unfair, disjointed. Painful. So much pain and agony. But I have upturned my hands, and sought to release that which, in my fear, I have clung onto. I have closed my eyes, and begun to dream. I am breathing, where I once only held my breath, waiting for the sky to fall and my shoulders to sink beneath the tragedy of it all. For once I have been able to see more of the picture, and all those seemingly misshapen and misaligned pieces, are fitting together. They are beginning to make sense.

I talk about Om, and Being and Becoming. I am obsessed with harm reduction and psychedelics and PTSD and trauma and community and service and stewardship. With giving back, and building up. With restoring and food—food made with love, with the healing, restorative power of love. I dream of my Masters in Psychedelic Therapies, of what good and honest truth and wisdom and hope can be found with mushrooms and LSD and MDMA and DMT and Ayahuasca. I think about how I am in the center of that—but how Logan helped spark the fire I had let the world kill within me. I think of converted buses and vans and communes and sustainable living and farm to tables, and I think about my mushroom trips where he was Loki and Prometheus and how everything there, fit, but how here, in this ill-formed, haphazard reality, none of that is. And I feel my fingers tightening in fear—let me just hang on, oh please just let me hang on. And there are still moments where it is hard. It is hard accepting things I have no control over, it is hard loving—and letting go, easing myself away from the dominance of ego where I must, where there is only black and white, where there is only failure and, but, no nuance, no complex palette of water-colored mixtures that do not call into question my worth or sanity, or love. I am still learning how to exist—to one day thrive—in that space where I can stand in the waters, and embrace the waves, but not allow myself to believe I will be overtaken by them. My heart still calls out for things that are too painful to hold close—but I am learning to breathe, I am learning to Be, because that is all I have.

So I am dreaming. And when those moments of attachment become too great, I dream harder. I say, this is what I want, I want to leave a legacy, I want to marry a man who believes in service and stewardship, who will not settle because it is the seemingly easy thing, who will love me and encourage me, whose vision and longings will align with and complement my own. I tell myself, you are too great to settle, you have asked the world to spare you mediocrity—so this is your cross to bear. I tell myself, keep moving forward, and I ground myself when I begin to lose my way. I remind myself, that I have suffered enough, that it is time for my healing—and I apologize to the water, for blaspheming and corrupting its transformative and healing power. I engage in the ritual of living with purpose. I lay in the teaching presence of Stillness. And I let the wave of loving come to me, and embrace myself—only, my self.

#The Pain of Becoming #The Stillness of Dreaming #thechildrendontlaugh #suicidal tendencies #you have to breathe in order to be #X #Logan

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moonsandstar-s · 8 years ago

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The Final Warning - Chapter XXXV

Chapter XXXV - Night Gives Way to Dawn

Summary: As the year draws to a close, peace has finally dawned. The time for unity has arrived. In the Vytal festival, it is time for heroes to rise, bringing glory to their kingdoms. But as autumn dies, the first winds of winter blow over Remnant, chilling the hearts of the people; breathing doubt into their souls. Long-buried secrets will triumph, and every action will have a consequence. Ruby must reconcile herself with her own fate. Weiss struggles to escape her legacy. Blake cannot erase memories. Yang’s search leads her into more peril than ever— but none of them can outrun fate. Shadows turn on shadows, and bonds shatter as they are tested to the limit. For in dividing them, they will fall and burn; at the eye of the storm, no peace lasts forever. In the end and beginning of time, there is a place where the sun never rises, and the dead delight to teach the living. A great danger is rising from the darkness. It’s time to take sides. The final warning is coming. The first chill of winter is the most deadly; it is the chill that kills more than any other. The first betrayal is the most damaging; it is the act that shatters bonds of love and trust, crushing even the strongest heart, tearing teams apart. AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7745314/chapters/23892387 Blake

“It’s awfully warm for winter,” Yang commented, her prosthetic hand shading her eyes as she swept her gaze over the docks on the shoreline. “Don’t you think? Look, the ice on the sea’s already broken up.”

True enough, the white floes on the ocean had melted away to nothing, leaving sucking and swelling tides in their wake. A breeze that was brisk with a softer, warm edge swept over the air, bringing the scent of salt and blossoms with it. Yang rolled her bike forward slowly, and Weiss and Blake followed, trekking over the gritty, sandy docks. It was empty here, with only the occasional sailor or citizen scurrying past. Many people had packed up and moved away after the resulting events of the Fall of Beacon, namely the influx of Grimm that had poured in, but things seemed to be recovering.

After three days and nights spent traveling at top speed, they had arrived at the eastern coast of Vale, Mistral a distant landmass on the horizon of the glittering sea. They had passed through the city, skirting Beacon Tower, unwilling to confront the demons, personal and physical, that haunted the ruined school— not yet. One day, they would go back, Blake imagined. Sort through the memories, exorcise the ghosts. For now, they were on a mission: to find Ruby and the remnants of Team JNPR.

The White Fang could very well be on her heels even now, Blake suspected. They might be tracking her with a vengeance… but then again, she had seen neither hide nor hair of Ayran and Adam’s minions since the Fall, not the slightest sign of them. The fear of being hurt again— of Yang being hurt again— had not left her, and she doubted it ever would, but somehow, the knowledge that she would be over the sea and constantly on the move helped to combat the fear. That, coupled with Yang’s acceptance and forgiveness, made the urge to stay with her team stronger than her urge to run.

She walked forward and took Yang’s prosthetic hand in hers, their fingers lacing together. The tiniest smile curled the corner of Yang’s face, and the prosthetic almost seemed to glow warmer, as if her Aura was responding accordingly. It didn’t feel like her hand— even now, Blake couldn’t shake the terrifying image of Adam’s cold, cold eyes as he sneered down at Yang’s unconscious, bloody body— it felt like metal and Dust, but it was warm and strong. As if Yang sensed her thoughts, she gripped a little bit harder, letting out a deep sigh. Her anger and grief when they had reunited had been terrifying, but in the days following, she had shifted— not becoming the old Yang that Blake knew and loved, but someone stronger and more balanced all the same. Someone who had found equilibrium between chaotic fire and cool calmness.

As they proceeded down the docks, it became glaringly obvious that boarding a boat to embark to Mistral was easier said than done. Guards and sailors milled about, and the presence of three apprentice Huntresses in their midst became more conspicuous by the second.

“Do you think we’ll have to stowaway for real?” Yang muttered out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes darting to and fro as she searched the docked boats for some option they could take.

“I think we’ll have to. They’re not letting any passengers on, right? The General stopped all oversea travel except for the absolute necessities, like food and Dust.” Her eyes narrowed. “If we made a diversion and snuck on while they were looking the other way…”

“Time to employ our almost nonexistent sneaking skills,” Weiss muttered. “Great.” She and Yang shared a glance; Blake wondered if they were thinking of when they’d had to escape Vincent Schnee’s manor. “Well, who’s going to take the fall and make the diversion?”

“I’ll do it,” Blake volunteered instantly, a mixture of guilt and determination making her ears flatten.

Blue and lilac eyes flicked over to her, surprise ringing clear in both of their looks. Yang frowned, lines appearing between her brows. “Blake, you don’t have to—”

“I do… I owe you both. And they can’t catch me.” She took a rattling breath. “I’m not easy to keep a hold of.”

Yang’s gaze shadowed. “Be careful.”

“I will. The moment everyone’s looking the other way, you two board the ship. I’ll circle around and join you.” Not allowing time for further protest, she gave them a resolute nod, and quickly strode off, leaving her teammates to creep down to a shipment boat, bound for Mistral. Once she was far enough away, Blake drew out a matchstick from her pack, followed by a vial full of a mixture of powdered fire and lightning Dust.

She dumped the mixture just under the dock, scarlet and white flecks flaking down and settling in a shimmering pile. Glancing to the right and left, trying to look nonchalant and unobtrusive, Blake lit the matchstick with a quick strike, watching fire bloom to life on the end before she flicked it into the pile of Dust.

BOOM.

A mushroom cloud of black fire and sparks billowed up as bright white light flared outward, the whole world shrouded in thick smoke within seconds as the wood of the docks exploded outward, splinters of wood raking past her like shrapnel. Blake was beset by a surge of panic— firelight dancing on cafeteria walls and silver light dying the whole world to a radiance greater than the sun— before she turned and fled, choking on the thick gray smoke. She stumbled out of the explosion, ash drifting down like rain, and crashed through the foggy air to the boat, scaling the ladder on the side. The world was still completely veiled from her, and she climbed like a mad animal, going on touch and hearing alone. She could hear sailors screaming in fear and confusion, milling about the docks where the explosion had originated.

Pulling herself up with one last heave, she vaulted over onto the deck of the boat, which rocked with the swell of the tide. Eyes streaming, she staggered forward, blinking in desperation. Where were Weiss and Yang?

She opened her mouth to call for them, before someone hissed her name, and a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her down into darkness.

/ / /

Yang

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Yang whispered, trying to hide her prosthetic under her shirt so the glow of the Dust wouldn’t give them away, but it still emitted a faint orange radiance even through the cloth.

Blake’s voice, still raspy from the smoke, drifted out of the darkness. “I’ll live.”

Weiss had been watching from beneath deck; she and Yang had made it to the belly of the ship, where the cargo was being held, and she had seen smoke suddenly turn the world to a misty gray before Blake had staggered out of the surreal grayness, looking half-dead. She’d grabbed her and pulled her down into the cargo hold, and now they were hidden behind a stack of boxes, their duffels around their backs, the motorcycle on its side and covered with Yang’s cloak so it would not gleam in the light and give them away.

Yang inched closer to Blake. She couldn’t deny that something had fundamentally changed between them when Blake had run— perhaps so much so that it was a rift that would not heal in a while— but with a quiet sigh, her partner held her close, her breathing uneven. Yang could feel her heartbeat, quick and unsteady.

“I’m sorry,” Blake whispered.

“What for? You did great. The diversion gave us plenty of time to sneak on here, and the boat’s already moving. We’ll be to Mistral soon, thanks to you.”

“That’s not what I’m sorry for.” Blake let Yang go, her amber eyes appearing with a reflected, eerie glow, as if she had abruptly opened them. Cats’ eyes, Yang thought, noticing how the pupils widened, as if soaking up every scrap of light belowdeck.

Yang’s smile fell from her face as guilt raced through her, before she realized it wasn’t her own, it was Blake’s.

“You don’t notice how much you get used to a Bond,” Blake said quietly, “until it is gone.”

“You know why I did what I did, and I’m not going to apologize,” Yang retorted, before Blake’s hand closed on her wrist.

“I’m not blaming you… I could never blame you. It was well deserved on my part, don’t you think I know that?” Blake’s voice hitched. “I just wish… you didn’t deserve to lose so much for me.”

“I chose to do it. If it meant protecting you, I’d do it all over again, Blake. Every time, I’ll choose you. Don’t you get that? Partners fight for each other. We never have nearly as much time as we think, so we have to make every second count… but in the end, everything will be okay, I promise.” Yang felt Blake stiffen ever so slightly, remembering, perhaps, another day very long ago, in the scarlet forest of Forever Fall, before they had been Bonded, before they had fallen in love, before they had even been friends.

“I promise,” Yang had said.

“Yang, don’t. Don’t make promises. Don’t ever promise me anything.They aren’t worth anything.”

“They are with the right people,” she’d replied.

“No, they aren't! I have learned the hard way not to put my faith in people, let alone people like you— ”

“People like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“People that make promises they can’t possibly keep,” Blake had replied wearily. “A promise that everything will be okay. The real world doesn’t work like that, Yang, and it never will.”

“You’re right, it probably won’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try— to let someone help out every once in a while. I’ve been nothing but nice to you since we met—“

“I don’t need your kindness!”

“Then why did you choose me in the forest, then, out of everyone, knowing how I was? Don't even dare deny it. You chose me, Blake. You could have run away long before making eye contact. But you didn't."

Yang had crept closer to Blake, not knowing her then, not knowing how she worked, what made her tick and what her thoughts and dreams, hopes and fears, were. “Okay,” she had whispered, “so maybe it was wrong of me to promise something I don’t know will come true. I get that. I get having bad stuff you just don’t want to talk about, and we’re partners, so even if you don’t trust me, that’s still okay, too. I won’t promise you things. But I do believe you’ll be okay if you give yourself time and stay optimistic about the situation.”

“You really don’t know a lot about having demons, do you?”

“I do, actually. But I know about other things, too. Like … like partnership, and helping people out, and trusting, and I want to do that with you, Blake. I want to be your friend. And I know— I know you act like you don’t want to have friends, but maybe… maybe I could be, you know? Maybe you could try to, you know, befriend and trust people more?”

Blake had looked dubious. “People can be very awful.”

“I know. People have hurt me, too. You forget that I have the same feelings you do.”

Finally, Blake had said, “Okay.”

“Okay …?”

“We’re friends, Yang.”

She came back to the present, rubbing her thumb across the back of Blake’s hand. “I think that was when I started to love you, just a little bit,” Yang murmured into the sheltering dark. “Maybe it’s idiotic of me to think everything will be perfect now, so I won’t think that. We’ll all struggle as much as it takes to get to where we need to be, just like everyone else. We’ll have our trials and tribulations and suffering fear… but we’ll have good times, too. We won’t leave each other behind, not ever again. Good endings don’t come to everyone, but if you try your hardest, you can hope to have a shot at getting there, as long as you just hold on— hold on to what matters, and hold on to those you love. And we’ll get our happy ending, one way or another. No matter what it takes… because it’s always going to be you and me, Blake. All of our days, it’ll be the two of us, together.”

Blake was silent for a long time, before she breathed out a single word, so quiet Yang could barely hear her.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Yang whispered, and she held her closely, both of them protecting each other from the demons that lurked in the shadows, letting the gentle swaying of the ship rock them both into the dark oblivion of sleep.

/ / /

Weiss

“Wake up, you two,” Weiss hissed, shaking her teammates awake. They had both fallen asleep, curled in to each other in the shadowy hold of the ship, but after long hours spent enduring the repetitive sway of the ship on the swells of the ocean, it had grated to a stop, and Weiss knew they had docked at the shores of Mistral. Sea travel was fairly quick, with water Dust to power it, so Weiss wasn’t surprised that it had only taken a day to go from Vale to their new destination.

Yang blinked her eyes open first, looking bleary and confused before stretching out and shaking Blake away, who was slower to rise. Weiss turned away, pulling her duffel closer and propping up the motorcycle as quietly as she could, as Blake and Yang put on their own cloaks and packs. Happy as she was for them— Blake’s absence had obviously been eating Yang alive— she couldn’t stifle a pang of jealousy and longing. They didn’t have their whole team reunited, not yet, and until they did, she would not be able to rest.

“So what’s the plan to get out of here without getting in trouble? Mistral’s stricter, so I’ve heard… I don’t want to get tossed behind bars for stowing away.”

“Another diversion?” Yang suggested, but she didn’t sound as if her heart was in it, and Blake winced.

“No, not after the last one, I think.”

“Unless we just knock out whoever opens the cargo hold and run before they get a good luck at us,” Yang offered. “Can’t do much harm, right? You get the glyph ready to launch us out of here, and I can do the punching.” She patted her prosthetic, looking satisfied. “It packs a good punch, too.”

“We’d have to be very quick, and Weiss’s glyph would have to be swift and strong enough to launch us, and your cycle, out of the hold,” Blake added, looking thoughtful.

“Of course, that would be your plan, to knock someone out,” Weiss said, coupled with a roll of her eyes, and Yang grinned crookedly; Weiss realized why moments later— they had fallen back into old routine, back in the days of Beacon Academy, with Yang coming up with the plans, Weiss criticizing, and Blake perfecting them.

But we don’t have Ruby to praise the plan and put it into action, Weiss thought, her smile fading. She turned her face away and drew Myrtenaster, before saying, “The idea about the glyph is sound enough, but how about I do something altogether more impressive?”

Yang’s gaze sparked in the gloom. “Summoning, you mean?”

“Yes. If I summon a Grimm once we’re out on the deck, it will distract the sailors enough that they won’t give us a second glance, and we can be on our way. And that way, we don’t have to punch anyone, and we’re less likely to have charges and angry men on our heels.”

“In that case, make it a King Taijitu, won’t you?” Yang said, her teeth flashing in the dark as she smiled. “Those are the scariest. You’ll have some of the sailors wetting their pants and crying for Mommy. But yeah, overall, it sounds like a good plan. Let’s do it.”

They waited for several minutes, before a loud creak ripped through the silence, and a square of light opened above their heads.

“Now or never,” Yang growled.

The blinding edges of the sun appeared around the silhouette of a sailor, followed by a shout and the sound of rushing sea and wind. Weiss narrowed her eyes, and immediately, she shot a glyph out.

Yang instantly jumped on it, the glyph shimmering as it launched her above-deck, followed by Blake, who disappeared like a streak of shadow vaulted into the sky. Weiss grabbed the handlebar of the cycle, leaping on her own glyph, and then she was flying, soaring upward and shooting through the trapdoor into the blindingly bright sunlight.

She landed on the deck amid screams from the crew, and she caught a glimpse of Yang and Blake jumping the side of the boat, followed by two distant splashes. Weiss drew out Myrtenaster, slashing it out. After the hours of darkness, it felt like the light was sinking vicious claws into her eyes, and she squinted before gritting her teeth and pulling on her Aura, feeling Mysternaster grow white-hot before a silver streak shot out of the tip.

She didn’t stick around to watch the King Taijitu grow to full size. Without a backward glance, she sprinted to the railing of the ship and vaulted herself over, into the undulating, glittering sea.

/ / /

She met Blake and Yang in the trees bordering the shoreline, and they were both soaking wet. Yang looked exhilarated, wringing out her hair with her prosthetic, but Blake looked borderline furious, her ears pinned flat to her plastered hair. With a growl, she shook herself out, drenching them both again, following by yelps.

“Blake!”

“Gross!”

Weiss shivered, before letting out a swear as she realized she still had her duffel on. Everything in it was probably drenched with seawater, and ruined. “We’ll have to restock,” Yang said with a frown, evidently realizing the same thing. “Oh, well… we’re here, at least, which is more than I’d hoped for. Do you have my motorcycle? If not, we’re really screwed… that’s our transportation and supplies lost in one go.”

“You’re welcome,” Weiss grumbled, still angry about her now-ruined clothes as she pulled the motorcycle forward, passing it off to Yang, who looked giddy. “Not a word of thanks for a flawless escape, of course, but you’re welcome.”

“Not flawless; we’re all wet, aren’t we?” Yang didn’t sound too upset about it, though, and she smiled. “That was great, Weiss. You’re getting really good at Summoning in a pinch, you know that? My blood’s pumping, and with the sun bright as it is, we should be dry in no time. Let’s ditch these stupid docks and be on our way to the town, why don’t we?”

“Does your cycle still work after taking a dunk in the ocean?” Blake sounded more dubious.

“Lucky for Weiss, it’s waterproof; if it wasn’t, I’d be making her pay it off,” Yang warned them, fishing the keys out of her pocket with difficulty, and shaking out her wet hair. “Weiss, we’ll let you take the lead— you know where to go, right?”

Weiss nodded. She could feel her Bond— like a golden thread connecting her to Ruby across the vast ocean of distance that seperated them— but if she concentrated every ounce of her will upon it, she could dimly sense Ruby’s surroundings. A flash of blonde hair, Ren’s eyes, Nora’s laughter, and the beginning of a snowstorm, before she lost focus and was pulled back to her own surroundings. Even then, she could still sense Ruby’s cold determination. “She’s still pretty far away from the actual kingdom itself. She’s not even over the mountains. I would say she’s about two, three days ahead of us.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Blake murmured, and with one last backward glance at the shining sea and the faint shadow of Vale on the horizon, they strode into the forest.

/ / /

They made a stop in the town, tossing their soaked duffels and ruined supplies and purchasing more. Luckily, the vials of Dust had survived the plunge into the ocean, and so had most of the Lien, which had been in plastic coverings, but everything else was ruined. With half of their money, they bought a single duffel, fuel for the motorcycle, nonperishables, matches, and ammo— enough to last for weeks, if need be. With the rest, they bought new clothes, because the seawater had effectively ruined their old cloaks, which hadn’t been top-notch anyways, seeing as they had been lifted from old homes wrecked in the Fall of Beacon.

Feeling refreshed— dry, with her cloak billowing around her ankles, the snowy peaks of the mountains backlit by the distant sun, and the hint of ice on the wind— Weiss looked over at Blake and Yang, who were hand in hand. Since their reconciliation, they seemed different. They had always been fine together, but they seemed to fit more now in places where they hadn’t before. Yang had toughened up and lost some of her humor, and Blake had traded away her cowardly tendencies for steely grit. It almost saddened Weiss. If they had changed so much in the span of a month, how much worse would Ruby be, when she had been through more than all of them combined?

They boarded the motorcycle, zipping out of the town in a wake of smoke and the smell of burning rubber. As they bounced pass the entrance to the town, and onto the broad dirt path that wound away into the distance, towards Mistral’s capital, something stirred Weiss’s hair. She cried out— it felt like wingbeats— and looked up as a shadow swooped low over their heads. Yang gasped as it let out a triumphant cark, zipping away into the sunlight. Weiss frowned— it was just a bird, a crow by the looks of it, flying off ahead of them— and wondered why Yang jerked the motorcycle to the side, as if startled from her smooth driving.

“Yang,” Blake shouted above the wind, “was that who I think it was?”

“It was! That was my uncle Qrow,” Yang said, a note of surprise in her voice. “He’s letting us know we’re on the right track. He’s been tracking after Ruby this whole time, but he…”

“He must have been keeping any eye on you, too,” Blake murmured. “You’re his family, with all that entails. He wants to make sure you’re safe, and if he was here, it must mean Ruby is okay, too.”

Yang bit her lip. “I hope you’re right.”

She didn’t say anything further, but Weiss noticed that she hit the gas, gunning the cycle harder than she ever had, and they shot off, a stream of dust billowing up in their wake.

#RWBY #Bumbleby #Yang Xiao Long #Blake Belladonna #Weiss Schnee #whiterose #white rose #Ruby Rose #Qrow Branwen #bumblebee #rwby v3

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biofunmy · 5 years ago

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A Jimi Hendrix Experience in London

As the story goes, one fateful night in the late 1960s, Jimi Hendrix, best known for changing the music world with his guitar playing, set free two ring-necked parakeets on Carnaby Street and that’s why thousands of the nonnative birds haunt London’s parks to this day.

“Absolute rubbish,” Christian Lloyd, a musicologist at Queens University, said in an interview. “It’s the kind of thing people want to be true, but it’s just not true.”

Mr. Lloyd would know. His research, along with relics that Hendrix fans would drool over, like his broken Fender Stratocaster from a 1969 Royal Albert Hall performance, is on display at Handel & Hendrix in London, a residence-turned-museum dedicated to the two musical giants who once lived there: Hendrix and the German composer George Frideric Handel.

Parakeets may not be part of Hendrix’s legacy in London, but he nevertheless left his mark. The several months he spent there, spread throughout the final five years of his life, were pivotal in his meteoric rise. It was also where the nomadic performer found the closest thing to “a real home,” as he put it, and where his life was tragically cut short at the age of 27.

Along with surviving landmarks from his time in the city, London also retains enough of what appealed to him personally to make for a proper Jimi Hendrix experience, 50 years since the musician last called it home.

The concept of home was a complicated one for Johnny Allen Hendrix, born in Seattle in 1942. He was sent to live with his grandmother in Canada when he was 6 and his parents divorced two years later. His mother died of alcohol-related injuries when he was 15. After a year in California with the United States Army at age 18, he found his true calling in 1962 as a touring musician.

By the time he ended up New York in September 1966, performing in small cafes under the name “Jimmy James,” he had developed a “fugitive kind of mentality,” according to Mr. Lloyd.

This is where Chas Chandler, who had recently quit the Animals and wanted to begin a new career as a manager, was blown away by what he saw and asked Hendrix if he’d come with him to London.

On his first night in London, he met Kathy Etchingham, a former D.J. and a familiar face around the city’s thriving rock scene, and thus began what would be the most significant romantic relationship of his life. They would eventually move into an apartment owned by Ringo Starr at 34 Montagu Square in December 1966.

“During our first weeks together we did a little shopping and sightseeing and I introduced him to friends. Because we didn’t have much money we went everywhere on the Underground,” Ms. Etchingham wrote in her book “Through Gypsy Eyes.” Hendrix had never been outside of North America before, and like any other first-time visitor to London, he was drawn to attractions like Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament.

“It’s a different kind of atmosphere here. People are more mild-mannered. I like all the little streets and the boutiques. It’s like a kind of fairyland,” Hendrix would later say of London.

His flamboyant style, from his fashion sense and his approach to rock and blues, was a perfect match for mid-1960s London, as “everyone is starting to experiment: in fashion, in art, in lifestyles,” Mr. Lloyd said.

He accentuated his look with accessories from Portobello Road, which today claims to be the world’s largest antique market.

“I arrived here with just the suit I stood up in. I’m going back with the best wardrobe of gear that Carnaby Street can offer,” Hendrix said before his first stint in London ended.

Hendrix, all over London

His scope of the city expanded dramatically after forming the Jimi Hendrix Experience in October 1966 — with the bassist Noel Redding and the drummer Mitch Mitchell — as relentless performing led to all corners of London.

“He played Chislehurst Caves, which is literally a cave. God knows what the sound was like in there,” Mr. Lloyd said. Other bands that performed here include the Rolling Stones, the Who and the Yardbirds.

The caves in Kent, in Greater London, date back to the 13th century and have been used for various purposes, including the cultivation of mushrooms, a bomb shelter during World War II, and, for some reason, a music venue during the 1950s and 1960s. Today, you can take a guided tour for £7, or about $9.

The venues would get bigger following the U.K. release of the band’s first album, “Are You Experienced?,” in May 1967. It spent 33 weeks on the charts, reaching No. 2.

The album’s U.S. cover, now a staple of psychedelic rock era art, included a fish-eyed lens photograph of the band, taken by Karl Ferris in Kew Gardens. The gardens, in southwest London, claim to have the largest botanical collections in the world, and were named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003.

From there, the Tap on The Line pub is a short walk away, near the Kew Gardens tube station.

“After the session, to celebrate, we walked across the road to an ancient Elizabethan pub and downed many ales and smoked joints in the garden. It was a good thing that we had a chauffeur to drive us back to London,” Mr. Ferris said of the pub, which then was known as the Flower and Firkin.

Another pub for Hendrix fans is The Ship on Wardour Street, close to where the Marquee Club once was. It remains a popular music-business hangout. “He would walk in there and recognize it instantly,” Mr. Lloyd said of Hendrix, had he showed up there today.

By the time Hendrix returned to London in July 1968, he was a major star. Ms. Etchingham chose a flat for the couple at 23 Brook Street in exclusive Mayfair, where Hendrix would live for small bits of 1968 (in between touring), but mainly during first three months 1969. The apartment was next door to where the composer Handel had resided well over 200 years prior, at 25 Brook Street.

An unlikely pairing of giants

Today, both homes of the famed musicians are on display at Handel & Hendrix in London. The Hendrix portion opened in February 2016, the centerpiece being a restored version of the couple’s “bedsit,” made to look as it did in 1969. While technically a bedroom, it was the apartment’s main gathering place, where the couple partied with friends and Hendrix jammed with fellow musicians. He also hosted members of the media there for interviews.

“He sat on the bed, holding forth and rolling joints,” Mr. Lloyd said. “What rock star’s bedroom would you get into these days? You wouldn’t even get near the house.”

At first glance, the turquoise velvet curtains (originally purchased from John Lewis on nearby Oxford Street), red Persian rugs, Bohemian knickknacks and piles of vintage vinyl appear to be the actual artifacts, but almost all of the items in the room are replicas. Hendrix requested that most of his possessions be destroyed after the couple had separated for good later in 1969.

Thanks to Ms. Etchingham’s involvement and enough old photos to go by, replacement items were acquired through memorabilia auctions while others, like the pink-and-orange striped bedspread, were remade to match the originals.

“She was able to recollect an incredible amount of colors and textures that the black and white photographs couldn’t give us; gradually the room was restored back to its former glory,” Claire Davies, the museum’s deputy director, said in an interview. “She also had so many stories about Jimi’s brief moment of domesticity with her in the flat that helped to shape our narrative.”

Elsewhere in the exhibit, visitors can sift through a re-creation of Hendrix’s record collection, mainly a mix of blues (Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf) and rock (the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Cream).

He did much of his record shopping at One Stop Records, known for its selection of American imports, across the road from his flat on South Molton Street. It’s no longer there, but Mr. Lloyd recommended Sounds of the Universe in Soho for a record shop that would fit Hendrix’s tastes.

The rock scene in Mayfair

Upscale Mayfair may have seemed like an odd area for a counterculture rock star to live, but it drew many industry types, located close to several clubs and studios. Venues that still exist include The Court (formerly Bag O’Nails) and The Scotch of St. James on Mason’s Yard, where Hendrix and others of London’s rock elite performed and socialized, including members of the Beatles and the Who. While The Court is for members only, the blue plaque commemorating Hendrix’s first performance there outside the building can be viewed by anyone.

When it came to food, Mr. Love, a restaurant located on the ground floor of the apartment building, was the go-to, with steak and chips a recurring order. Hendrix was not particularly fond of traditional English food.

“See, English food, it’s difficult to explain. You get mashed potatoes with just about everything, and I ain’t gonna say anything good about that,” Hendrix told Melody Maker.

While Mr. Love is long gone, Hendrix also went for burgers at Wimpy Burger, a chain that originated in the U.S. in 1934 but became somewhat of an institution in the United Kingdom (depending on your tastes).

“It’s like an English person’s idea of what a burger is,” Mr. Lloyd said of Wimpy, which still has a few London locations. “If people really want to get a sense of what London was like then in terms of food, that is probably the best place to go.”

Ultimately, Hendrix’s time in Mayfair was short but significant.

“When you think of how short his adult life was, it’s actually a fairly significant chunk. It’s also the part where it all starts going wrong for him in some ways,” Mr. Lloyd said.

Hendrix’s career brought him back to the United States in March 1969. Ms. Etchingham joined him briefly, but Hendrix wouldn’t commit to moving back to London, so the couple split in April.

Shortly after, the Experience broke up as well, and while Hendrix continued performing, he never would put out another official studio album. His final major performance in England was in August 1970 at the Isle of Wight Festival, and on Sept. 18 he was found dead of an apparent drug overdose in Room 507 of London’s Samarkand Hotel on Lansdowne Crescent.

While something may have kept bringing him back to London, there’s no telling if a roamer like Hendrix would have ever truly laid roots down, had he lived longer.

“I’m scared of vegetating.” Hendrix said. “I have to move on. I dig Britain, but I haven’t really got a home anywhere. The Earth’s my home.”

52 PLACES AND MUCH, MUCH MORE Discover more Travel coverage by following us on Twitter and Facebook. And sign up for our Travel Dispatch newsletter: Each week you’ll receive tips on traveling smarter, stories on hot destinations and access to photos from all over the world.

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sadnessruns · 5 years ago

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Headcanon ==> Matt Stamets

Matt loves his fathers, there’s no questions about that. Paul and Hugh are more obviously his fathers, they gave him his DNA. Gabriel is his father as well, he helped raise Matt and was a positive role model in his life. That being said, Matt knows they weren’t the best parents in the world.

Hugh was dead, Matt never met him. Matt idolized him, probably to an unhealthy degree. Matt wanted to meet the man who was such a hero to many. Who changed so many lives and helped with the health of people. But Matt knew he would never get to see that smile of pride from his father. Matt would never get to be Hugh’s son because he never knew his son. Matt wanted to be just like him, to be the perfect son to honor Hugh’s legacy.

Paul had emotional issues, but he never took them out on Matt. Matt loves Paul. Matt loved when Paul would take time out of his day to help him with homework or read to him. Matt always enjoyed spending time with Paul in the garden, tending to mushrooms and plants. But Matt always knew Paul was upset, always busy mourning the loss of Hugh. Matt sometimes wishes Paul had more emotional availability for him. Matt wanted to be the perfect son to make Paul happy.

Gabriel’s past haunted him, the thought alone scared Matt. Matt admired Gabriel, the strong and brave captain, admiral, who had been through so much. Matt always clung to Gabriel’s leg, listening to his stories and cuddling against the gruff old man. Matt always loved tagging along to the academy, seeing the big halls where Starfleet was, where Starfleet lived and breathed. But Matt always knew that the nightmares and the haunting past would leave Gabriel in a position where he could never feel safe, feel one hundred percent happy. Matt wanted to be Gabriel’s escape from the world.

Matt loves them, he wants to help them all, but he’s broken himself. He’s a kid defined by his own issues. He had nightmares, saw other worlds and universes, his fears defined him, his own anxieties about being the perfect son weighed on his shoulders. His parents’ problems seeped into him, he was a sponge for everything terrible, he was a reminder of their pasts. A dead partner, an experiment gone wrong, a lost family. Matt just wanted to be happy.

His parents were the most perfect people they could be with everything on their shoulders. They weren’t the best, but they did their best and he loved them for it. He’s grateful for who they are, what they taught him, and how they raised him. Matt will fight to the death about how his parents did a good job. They’re perfect as they are to him. He loves them so much. He’s happy.

#{ do not reblog }#headcanon: matt stamets #{ WOW THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY }#parental death tw

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kansascityhappenings · 6 years ago

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$1 home deal leaves Italian mayor ‘flabbergasted’ by response

https://embed-prod.vemba.io/vemba-embed.js

SAMBUCA, Italy – Tempted by the deal offering homes for just over $1 in the town of Sambuca on Italy’s island of Sicily?

You and everyone else.

Since CNN Travel broke the news about the €1 ($1.14) offer aimed at revitalizing a beautiful but depopulated community, there’s been a stampede to buy.

Within 48 hours of the story going live, the town has been inundated with tens of thousands of inquiries from people hoping to grab their piece of the rural Italian dream.

Giuseppe Cacioppo, the town’s deputy mayor, says he’s excited by the level of interest, but is freaking out.

“This is great, I’m flabbergasted by the response,” he says. “I haven’t come up for air since the story appeared.

“It’s just been a few days, and I’m already under stress. The €1 houses email inbox is full, so people have been calling me on my mobile. It hasn’t stopped ringing. I have received something like a thousand phone calls, I hope not to go nuts.”

The deputy mayor says the constant phone calls mean he hasn’t been able to sleep. He’s struggling to juggle his institutional role, private job and this new unexpected PR gig.

As of Friday, the town had received 38,000 emails about its deal, which requires buyers to promise to spend up to $17,200 to renovate their new Sicilian homes.

Language barriers

“The whole world has got in touch,” Cacioppo adds. “Callers are from Europe, mainly Spain, Russia, and as far as South Africa, Australia, USA, the Arab Emirates.”

And it’s not just individuals and tourists lured by a dream house in sunny Sicily.

“A team of US lawyers, working for an American company interested in doing real estate business in Sambuca, wants to meet up with us,” says Cacioppo.

“A businessman from New York just called me, saying he’s flying to Sicily tonight.

“And a very rich lady called from Dubai. She wouldn’t say her name or who she works for, but wants the whole package. She wants to buy all the dozens of €1 houses on sale.”

Cacioppo says he’s delighted the article has triggered such global interest but won’t be able to satisfy all incoming requests.

Language barriers are making it all the more harder.

“That story has killed me,” he jokes. “My English is OK — not great — but with other languages I must admit I have a hard time understanding what I’m being asked.

“It’s not easy talking to people on the other side of the world over the phone.”

Desparate buyers

Cacioppo says newspapers and TV outlets have gotten in touch with him, including Italy’s state broadcaster, RAI, which had no idea of the initiative until CNN reported it. The Italian network now plans to run a special coverage on Sambuca.

Susanne Heinson, a German woman who has already bought a home in Sambuca and was quoted in CNN’s original article about what makes it such a “great, perfect place to live in,” says she’s been tracked online by interested buyers and national German media.

“People get in touch to have more info about the location, what Sambuca is like, how’s the lifestyle there,” she says. “Many ask me to liaise with the town authorities and put them through to Cacioppo. Now I’m just worried Sambuca will stop being a niche place and that flocks of foreigners will arrive.”

Many interested buyers have also targeted CNN’s reporter via social media out of desperation to get a slice of the Sambuca action.

One woman from the United States implored: “Please, can you forward me the phone number of Cacioppo? I need to buy a house in Sambuca. I need to buy it NOW!”

City of Splendor

Ther is a catch to the jaw-dropping officer, however. The new owners must commit to refurbish their choice of the crumbling 40- to 150-square meter dwellings within three years, at a cost starting from €15,000 (about $17,200).

They’ll also need to cough up a €5,000 security deposit that will be returned once the restyle is complete.

Buyers won’t be disappointed, says Cacioppo.

“Sambuca is known as the City of Splendor,” he adds. “This fertile patch of land is dubbed the Earthly Paradise. We’re located inside a natural reserve, packed with history. Gorgeous beaches, woods and mountains surround us. It’s silent and peaceful, an idyllic retreat for a detox stay.”

With the population dwindling, Cacioppo says the town needs outsiders to prevent it falling into ruin.

“We can’t afford to lose our lovely Arab heritage. Luckily, foreigners are lending a hand in this rescue crusade.”

Founded by the Ancient Greeks, Sambuca was later conquered by Saracens who turned it into a flourishing trade center.

The town is named after the Emir Al Zabut, aka the Splendid One. It’s an open-air museum, a patchwork of contrasting architectural styles.

Churches with round Arab-looking domes sit next to Baroque palazzos with glazed tile floors, decorated with smiling cherubs, fearsome gargoyles, twisted columns, allegorical statues and coats of arms.

This is where Sicily’s Arab soul lies. Most houses on sale are located within the “Saracen District,” a kasbah maze of arcaded stone portals and winding narrow alleys (less than a meter wide) through which people squeeze.

Guardian of the valley

The two-story Moorish dwellings, built with pink-reddish stones that glow at sunset, feature inner courtyards, lavish palm gardens with orange and mandarin trees, arcaded entrances, flowery majolica staircases, typical Sicilian tile roofs and terraces overlooking the stunning scenery.

On clear days it’s possible to see Sicily’s Mt. Etna volcano and the distant island of Pantelleria from the Belvedere Terrace, where Al Zabut’s lavish palace once stood as the “guardian of the valley.”

Zabut’s legacy is strong. Streets and local surnames are Arab-sounding. There are couscous cooking classes and Moorish costume parties.

Sambuca’s charm lies also underground, in its “sunken city,” Cacioppo organizes guided tours through the labyrinth of purrere, the holes and caves of old sandstone quarries. Most houses come with private grotto access.

The ghosts of Saracen soldiers slaughtered by the Christians are said to haunt the caves and district at night — there’s even one street called The Phantom — but so far there’ve been no spooky sightings.

‘Special place’

Susanna Heinson, from Germany, has already purchased a house and is restyling it, anxious to move in.

“I can’t wait to spend next summer in Sambuca,” she says. “It’s a lovely, special place. The people are very open-minded and friendly. Good restaurants, great wineries. We feel at home.”

She says she’s happy the recovery of the Saracen neighborhood will help to preserve the original face of Sicily and feels “proud to be a part of this.”

The revival is already underway.

Sambuca was nominated in the 2016 Italy’s Most Beautiful Towns contest and there are plans to open a “diffuse,” scattered hotel to help newcomers experience the thrill of blending in with local village life and mingling with residents.

Sambuca’s prime location is one of the biggest selling points.

The countryside is dotted with ruins of pagan temples and Arab lookout towers. Trekking routes lead up to the rocky peak of the nearby Genuardo mountain and its Greek necropolis of Adranon, a hotspot for mushroom foraging.

The mesmerizing archaeological site of Selinunte and the Valley of the Temples are also just a stone’s throw away.

Food and wine

And then there’s the wine. Made in the area since the time of the ancient Greeks, Sambuca now has vast vineyards stretching all the way to the sea.

This is where the renaissance of elite Sicilian wine started.

Niche red grapevines — mainly Nero d’Avola — are grown in estates surrounding Lago Arancio, an artificial lake where low water levels in summer sometimes expose the ruins of an Arab fortress.

Non-local grapes such as Merlot, Syrah and Chardonnay have recently been planted to make premium bottles exported worldwide.

This being Italy, there’s also the attraction of the local food. Anyone staying here should be prepared to stretch their waistline.

Sambuca is called “Sicily’s barn” for its huge amount of grain production.

Old millstones still make bread and pasta using traditional methods and ancient Saracen black wheat varieties, such as sweet-flavored Tumminia.

Signature dishes include busiate short pasta with qualeddu (a wild large leaf yellow flower), sausages and breadcrumbs, and macco di favedried beans soup with wild fennel.

Cucciddatu is a doughnut with pepper, cheese and sausages.

Grandmother-recipe omelettes are made with blue borage flowers and lemon.

Vastedda is a special string cheese of sheep milk, flat as a pizza.

The sweet-toothed can indulge in almond cupcakes and cassateddi, fried sweet ricotta-filled ravioli covered in sprinkled sugar.

“Imagine having breakfast each morning with one of these cakes: who wouldn’t drool at the simple thought?” says Cacioppo.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/01/18/1-home-deal-leaves-italian-mayor-flabbergasted-by-response/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/01/19/1-home-deal-leaves-italian-mayor-flabbergasted-by-response/

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