#Tom Riddle was an angsty teenager too

[bluestringpudding]

Dear Diary...

Today I remembered that a while ago I wrote this nonsense for a reddit prompt that has since been deleted (sad times) but was along the lines of "Tom Riddle used the diary like any other normal teenager would."

Dear Diary,

I fear that today I may have made a grevious error. There I was, walking along the third floor corridor busy with my thoughts of world domination and immortality when who should approach me but a filthy Mudblood.

But not any filthy mudblood, oh no, the one with the cutest little button nose I told you about last month that I decided I would show benevolent mercy to when the Mudblood day of reckoning came.

Well, so engrossed in my evil plans was I, that I walked straight into her! But here we come to the crux of my heinous crime. I became so distracted by that adorable noggin of hers that I seem to have lost control of my tongue.

I apologised dear Diary - to a Mudblood.

I am so ashamed that I may never be able to look my fellow Slytherins in the face again.

As I write I realise there is only one course of action. To denounce all noses from henceforth. I shall work tirelessly until my nose is no longer casting its long shadow, even if it does wreak havoc on my devilishly handsome visage. Then I once I have completed my world domination I will ban all noses so that no one have to face such humiliation again.

Yours mortified,

The Noseless Lord

[asktheheirofslytherin]

can we hear one of tom riddles teen angst poems?

[[OOC: Lord Voldemort would NEVER. But luckily, I have the power to creatively travel through time...]]

Tom pulled his diary out of his inner pocket as soon as he arrived to the Chamber. His quill and ink sat waiting for him as he slumped against his favorite pillar and he grabbed them, flipping the diary to a fresh page. 

September, 1943. 

It rained today. 

Like tears from an anguished God. 

Oh God please restore my sweet sanity, Who Are You? meaningless dust flows from my mouth as I try to speak your name...

Is this what I have been searching for? But it is a twisted prize, 

gaining pleasure from his pain

I watch him die.

[headcanonsandmore]

Hello Headcanonsandmore!! could you do a dark lord! Hermione headcanon where Ron falls in love with her and turns her good? I would love some angsty romione!! Your work is great by the way!!

I personally don’t think Ron would ever fall for a dark lord version of Hermione, so here’s what I did with the nucleus of this idea. It’s kinda the backwards version of what you requested, but I hope you like nonetheless. 

And since you requested angst....

(TWs are in the tags)

                     Read on FFN.                        Read on AO3. 

The dark lord Hermione Granger rested back in her chair.

She always hated staying in this place. The long corridors and enormous rooms were a relic of the pureblood supremacist past. She knew that better than most people. She supposed this was the place where it had all started. When this huge house was still called “Malfoy Manor”.

The world had changed so much since then. The old order had been destroyed, and the British wizarding community had altered beyond all recognition.

Sure, there had been sacrifices that had to be made. But it was all for the cause. “For the greater good”, as Dumbledore had once put it. Granger hadn’t thought about that man in years; his weak-willed ways had long since stopped being an inspiration for Hermione. Too many had died. Tom Riddle had been wrong about most things, but he was fully correct on this matter; there was only power, and those too weak to seek it.

So Granger had done just that. She had taken power. So that no innocents would ever be pulled into the firing lines again.

This old house still made her uncomfortable, though. Not that she would ever show it; fear was for the weak. It was pointless to still have lingering fears about the place, especially after almost twenty years.

And besides, it was the perfect place to draw Potter into the open.

‘My lady?’

The door of the room opened.

‘We’ve apprehended Potter, ma’am. He was trying to apparate into the building, and the censors went off.’

Granger smiled at her subordinate.

‘You’re done well, Matthews.’

‘Thank you, my lady. Do you wish him to be sent to Azkaban?’

Granger deliberated, softly stroking her wand as she did so. It was a habit she had fallen into, but she loved her wand. It wasn’t her first wand, sadly; but it was the nearest thing. She had always had an affinity for dragon heart-string cores, and this particular one did not disappoint.

‘No,’ she finally said. ‘Bring him to me; I’d like to speak with him.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Matthews disappeared, and –in the distance- Granger could hear the sound of scuffling and raised voices.

Oh, Potter… she thought to herself… he always was one for theatrics, wasn’t he…

The door burst open, and a chained figure was thrown bodily to the ground in front of the dark lady’s chair. The figure awkwardly pulled himself up onto his knees. Granger reclined in her seat, surveying the man before her, as the door slammed shut again.

The intervening years had not been kind to Potter. The scar on his forehead was now one of a multitude covering his skin, and his arms were permanently bruised and battered. The dark hair was now speckled with premature greying, and the green eyes (that used to be so fiery) were now filled with a downcast world-weariness.

‘Potter, how lovely to see you again.’ Granger said, sipping some water from a nearby goblet. ‘We haven’t had a chance to catch up in a long time.’

Potter bit back an angry laugh.

‘Likewise.’ His voice was gruff and hoarse, as if he hadn’t slept properly in months. ‘Sorry I couldn’t bring any gifts; your friends don’t seem to like me that much.’

‘Oh, I don’t mind.’ The dark lady replied. ‘And they have their uses. By the sounds of it, you forgot about the apparation-detection spells. You never were one for thinking ahead, were you?’

‘Let’s just say I had someone I could rely on for that.’

‘Things change, though.’ Granger said. ‘You do realise that -as the saviour of the wizarding world- you get away with a lot more than other people would in your situation. Bad for morale if we executed the boy who lived, you see.’

Potter chuckled.

‘And here I thought you still had a soft spot for me, sister⸺’

‘I’m not your sister.’ Granger said, standing up. ‘Not for a long time. At least, those were your words on the matter.’

Potter let out a laugh. Angry and harsh.

‘Yeah. Ever since you started carting off innocent people to Azkaban, and executing anyone who stood in your way. No sister of mine would do that.’

‘I was never your sister to begin with, Potter.’ Granger replied, coolly. ‘We were allies, comrades⸺’

‘I was under the impression we were friends. Not that we were alone, of course. We had Ron as⸺’

There was a deafening crack, as Granger slapped him across the face. Blood trickled out of Potter’s mouth.

‘Don’t you dare say his name in my presence.’ Granger whispered. ‘Or I really will have you executed.’

‘Too much of a reminder of all you’ve done wrong, eh?’ Potter laughed, humourlessly. ‘Too much of a reminder that he would hate the person you’ve become⸺’

Another slap. Granger saw Potter’s face begin to redden.

‘I did all this for him.’ She said, tonelessly. ‘A better world. A better future.’

‘A better dictatorship.’ Potter muttered, his face beginning to swell. ‘You ever thought about changing your middle name to ‘Jane’ so you can match with Umbridge? Oh, wait, I forgot; we never found her body.’

‘I am nothing like Umbridge. She was too willingly to let innocents die for her own power.’

‘And yet you’re still sending innocent people off to Azkaban.’

‘That’s for re-education. We don’t torture them; the dementors were driven out of the place and destroyed.’

‘“Re-education”?’ Potter scoffed. ‘The irony is delicious.’

‘It’s rehabilitation. Everything is above-board.’  

Potter went silent for a moment.

‘And the people we never found? What happened to them? Was that above-board, too?’

Granger let out a sigh.

‘Being a leader means making hard choices. Sacrifices needed to be made.’

‘Keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel any better.’

‘It’s the truth.’

Silence from Potter again. Then⸺

‘You know what the difference between you and Ron is?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Ron was willing to put his own head on the line⸺’

‘Shut up!’

‘⸺Ron never willingly let other people die just to save his own neck⸺’

‘SHUT UP!’

‘⸺He would have sacrificed himself before he let anything to me or you⸺’

‘I SAID SHUT UP!’

‘⸺And he did, didn’t he? He sacrificed himself to save you, and this is how you repay him⸺’

‘SHUT UP, POTTER!’

With a flash of her wand, Granger swiped across Potter’s face, leaving a great cut through the skin. Potter gave out a grunt of pain, and dropped to his knees.

Matthews and several others burst into the room, and roughly pulled Potter to his feet, but bent his head so that he was staring up at the dark lady. His glasses –broken and mangled- hung disjointedly off his nose.

‘You really think Ron would be proud of what you’ve created?’ Potter spat, blood streaming down his face. ‘This dictatorship? This dark regime? After all he did for us⸺’

‘I’ve created a country whose children will never have to go through what happened to us!’ Granger bellowed into his face. ‘Where good men don’t die throwing themselves into the firing line! Where no-one will ever lose the love of their life because of a pureblood supremacist with a knife!’

Potter struggled against the many arms holding him in place, and his face was lined with rage and renewed grief. Tears poured down his face, mixing with the blood from the raw cut.

‘Ron died because certain people decided that some lives aren’t worth as much as others! Because Tom Riddle decided that he knew best! How are you any different from that?’

There was a pause. Granger continued to breathe heavily, her eyes ablaze with fury.

‘Take him away!’ She yelled at her subordinates, and Potter was dragged towards the door, still struggling. ‘I hope you enjoy Azkaban, Potter!’

‘You said it yourself; the dementors were destroyed!’ Potter screamed. ‘Azkaban won’t hold me!’

‘Then I’ll capture you again and send you somewhere else!’

‘Oh, please! Admit it; you just want to avoid reminding yourself of your own guilt! Because you know Ron would never want this! He loved you, he loved you so much, he loved you more than he loved himself; he died in your arms on that beach!⸺’

‘SHUT UP!’

The door slammed behind Potter as he was dragged out, and Granger was once again alone. She always had been alone, even as a child. She was used to it.

The dark lady leaned against the desk that was placed against the wall. Looking down, she saw the untidy scrawl that she could always recognise, no matter how much time had passed. The same two initials, scratched into the woodwork as a permanent memory that he had existed. There were several ‘Chudley Cannons’ stickers still attached to the old wooden surface. It reminded her of times long since gone; of Quidditch matches in orchards, of sharing sweets on the Hogwarts Express, and the freshly mown grass of the Devon countryside. And of the sweet, brave, kind-hearted boy she had given her heart to.

All she had created in the years since had been necessary. So that what happened during the last war would never happen again. It had all been necessary… right?

Emotion did not show on Granger’s face, but -in a small part of her heart that she had long since closed off- a teenage girl with bushy hair sobbed, crying the name of the red-headed boy she had loved and lost.

~~~~~~~

Thanks for the request, anon; I hope you liked it, despite it not being quite what you asked for. 

Yes, I’m crying too at the idea of a universe without Ron Weasley. Why do you think I couldn’t bare to make this ficlet any longer? I just love Ron too much to write a lot about a universe where he’s dead. *sobs* 

[thesunglassesgamer]

The Talk, Part 9

I know it’s been a while, but... here’s the next chapter! Don’t forget to comment and review or whatever.

Glossarycks departure to his room on the second floor had left the group speechless; not because his disappearance had been so incredible, but because no one knew what to say. The silence did not last however.

“Whelp,” Tom proclaimed, clapping his hands as obnoxiously loud as his voice was. “I’m done. Can I borrow your music, Marco? My CDs…” Toms eyes squinted nervously as they scanned the room for anyone who might possibly refute him, “mysteriously went missing after an intense game of ping-pong.”

Marco groaned an almost inaudible sound. The CDs Tom was referring to hadn’t been Toms. They had been Marco’s.

“Yes, Tom, you can borrow my CDs,” He responded through gritted teeth. He gave Tom a sharp scowl before adding, “Don’t break them this time,” in a voice that clearly stated that Marco knew the CDs were as good as trashed already.

Tom gave him a cocky smile and snapped his fingers into finger guns pointed at Marco. “Gotcha.”

As Tom left to go acquire what would soon be a pile of broken polycarbonate, Star looked up to Marco. “Uh, Marco?”

Marco looked to her. Despite getting her book back for her (or having tried and succeeded with her help), she hadn’t recovered the way he was hoping she would. She wasn’t bursting with energy, she wasn’t ready to embrace the world with her unique personality, she wasn’t sure of herself no matter what. It was like she had taken pills that suppress herself, or, god forbid, in an angsty fanfic that should have ended long ago.

“Yes, Star?”

She lifted up her wand and pointed towards the star in the center. The crack that separated the golden half of the Star from the empty darkness next to it stood out in intense clarity to the young teen. “We didn’t get the wand.” Her eyes were weary and filled with disappointment for herself. “It’s still broken.”

Marco stared at the wand for a solid ten seconds before slapping himself in the face. “Right, no wand, shit, alright…” he sighed and rubbed his hand all around his face, letting it mush it up. The wand. He’d forgotten the wand. Half the reason he’d gone on the trip and they had forgotten it. Marco glanced at Star through his fingers and, hesitantly, asked, “Can we go back?”

Frustration broke out on Stars face like acne on pre-teen Marco’s face. Before she could answer in what would’ve been a condescending tone only Star could make, Jackie spoke up informatively, “How do we know the green gas won’t still be there?”

Marco cringed, then shook his head and looked away… to see Jam and Elizabeth staring hard into each other’s eyes. Their faces were only five inches away as their faces shook, their eyes turned red, their tears ran in rivers down their cheeks. Absolute determination defined their entire bodies. Artists, athletes, and craftsmen alike would have slaughtered babies to have but a sliver of the intense focus on a single action that the two teenagers employed to their death stares.

“What the heck are you two doing?”

They answered in perfect unison, as symmetric as their concentration. “Staring contest to determine the best child.”

Marco rolled his eyes and mildly scowled away from them. Tom was right. They were fond of staring at each other. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Star,” Marco looked at Star with tight-knit eyebrows. “Can you and Elizabeth go talk to Glossaryck? You two know him the best.”

Star looked at Marco like he was crazy. She was slowly starting to act more like herself, as seen in her befuddled response: “I barely know him.”

“Same,” Elizabeth stated without ending her stare.

“That’s still more than the rest of us,” Marco countered. “We need to know as much about the green cloud and the time travel stuff as possible.” He gave her what he hoped wasn’t a pleading smile. “Please?”

Star stared at him, then nodded. Her eyes went half-lidded. “Come on, Elizabeth. Time for more riddles and pudding.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. She was clearly winning the staring contest, but it would take at least another five minutes to wear Jam down. There was only one option.

She poked Jam in the eyes.

He sprung back, his hand flying to cover his stinging eyes. He fell on his back in a satisfying thump.

“Suck it, rag boy! I win!” She proclaimed to the crowd of four as her eyes twitched uncontrollably.

Jam rubbed his eyes and scowled in bitter hatred at Elizabeth. “You cheated. And cheaters never truly win.”

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him as she proceeded to stand next to Star, who fist bumped her daughter. “She didn’t break a single rule,” Star declared quietly. “She simply rewrote the rules.” She and Elizabeth went up the stairs and disappeared from sight. The sound of a door opening and closing was heard seconds later.

“Alright then.” Marco didn’t know if Star supporting Elizabeth was a sign of recovery or resignment. He shrugged it off and looked over to see Jackie supporting Jam and looking over his eyes. Her smooth hands glided over Jams own to reveal his throbbing red eyes, still watering from terrible if only temporary agony. She carefully inspected them with the care and love of a mother.

“You’ll be fine, but you should probably get some rest.” Her voice was calm but direct. She looked up to Marco, who realized too late that he’d been staring. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she gave a quick smile before returning to wary neutrality. “He needs time to rest. And…” she hesitated. “I need some time to unwind. Tonight was a lot, and I think I need to relax and let everything set in.” She looked down at Jam, who was still rubbing his eyes. “I’ll let Jam stay at my house. You’ve got enough company for one night, and I need to ask him more questions about this all.”

Marco nodded. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably for the best.” He couldn’t keep his eyes on Jackie so he looked Jam. He had risen by himself, eyes still watering, and nodded. He looked miserable, but kept his head up, high and proud. He wanted to look dignified and cool in front of his parents, much like his father.

“We’d better leave now,” Jam said clearly. “It’s already late.”

Marco looked out from behind himself and looked through the window. The sky was pitch black, only lit by the street lamps and a nearly full moon, it’s pale light gleaming across the pool of black that surrounded it. It must have been early in the morning, sometime around three or four A.M. Marco looked back to Jackie.

“I, uh…” He scratched his head looked away again. “I’m sorry that tonight didn’t go as planned.”

Jackie shrugged and smiled. Her smile was warm and airy, like that of the winds in summer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice spoke more than her words alone, assuring him that she was okay that their plans had changed. She pecked him on the cheek as she left, causing Marco’s crimson red to deepen further. Jam, who still stood proud despite his pain, broke out into a wide grin that stated, ‘who’s the winner now, Elizabeth?’

They left. And Marco was alone… For all of ten seconds.

“Hey, Marco!” Tom shouted from the kitchen. “Come in here! You gotta see this!”

Marco’s face dropped. “What is it?”

“No time, just come see it!”

Marco sighed. It had been a long night, and he’d been hoping to just be able to fester about his problems in his bed while hopelessly trying to get some sleep. He grumbled something about ‘demons and how he needed to get some holy water on hand’ when he was met with a terribly familiar face.

“Hey Marco,” Janna said, smooth and relaxed despite being tied up and held down by a demon. “What’s new with you?”

Marco stood, too tired to be dumbfounded again, at the mess in front of him. Jars of peanut butter, grape jam, and pickles lay smashed next to broken eggs, a still leaking carton of milk, mushed bananas, and torn bread (which was, at the moment, soaking up the milk flood). Janna lay wrapped in what appeared to be red, glowing string in the mess of food that covered Marco’s floor. She gave Marco sensual eyes, which would have worked better if there hadn’t been peanut butter smushed against her cheeks. Tom, panting and sweating with a triumphant vigor, looked up at Marco.

“I caught her hiding away in your refrigerator when I went to steal a small snack before going,” he explained, still high on his victorious setup. “I think she might be some sort of assassin or spy for… something. She put up a good fight, but I distracted her with the peanut butter. Should I kill her?”

Jannas eyes went from collected and full of power to shocked and scared within seconds. “Wait, what?” She asked, voice cracking.

Marco shook his head. He was tempted, if only for a second, to let Tom deal with his stalker problem once and for all. But only for a second. “She’s not an assassin, Tom. She’s here to annoy me and stalk me.”

“So…” Tom’s demeanor melted into disappointment. “No killing?”

Marco shook his head. He looked down at Janna, weariness overcoming him. “Why are you here, Janna?”

Janna, who kept watching Tom to make sure he didn’t make any sudden movements, replied, “I felt left out of the story. Also it’s Friday, and I always stalk you on Friday.”

Marco nodded. This was true: Janna made a solemn effort to stalk him every Friday night, despite his threats of calling the police. But while most nights it was only a minor inconvenience and mildly scary, he didn’t have time to deal with her tonight. He had to think of what their next plan of action would be, and how to deal with his girl troubles. Janna’s acult-ish nature would only distract him from-

Wait. Her acult-ish nature.

A smile broke out on Marco’s face. He clapped his hands with deep satisfaction, causing both Janna and Tom to look confused and worried.

“Janna!” Marco exclaimed, face beaming. “Have you met my demon friend Tom?”

Tom lift up his finger to protest. “Wait, we aren’t-“

“DEMON?!?” Janna’s voice fell hushed and low, eyes sparkling. The character who she’d been watching cautiously suddenly caught her eyes in a new light. Her arms and legs tore through their constraints as she threw her arms around Tom in a crushing hug. Tom’s eyes went wide. He looked daggers at Marco.

“Whatdidyoudo?” He demanded, voice totally not shrill in panic. Marco gave him a deeply satisfied, sinister smile.

“What are friend-enemies for?”

Tom’s eyes lit on fire and he screamed vulgar profanities as he failed to escape from Jannas arms. She ran out the house with Tom struggling in her arms, his screams slowly growing quieter and quieter as they got farther and farther. Marco smiled broadly, reveling in Tom’s displeasure. Then he looked to the mess that Tom and Janna had left him. His smile fell.

“Well,” he lamented. “At least I have something to do while I think of what to do next.”

 Uh, oops. Two months is a long time to not update after having updated weekly. I’d say I’m sorry, and that work and life got in the way, but those are only excuses. I promise to work to update more often. I know how it feels to be waiting for the next chapter in a story, especially after cliffhangers. There will be at least one more chapter this month, if not two.

With regards to writing this chapter, I had a lot of trouble trying to figure out what should happen next. So this ended up mostly just being setup for the next chapter[s], where the groups then individually expand the story. Spring break is coming up soon, so expect more to come.

[alienvirals]

Alien: Covenants Katherine Waterston: We live in hypersexualised yet totally prudish times

The actor following in the footsteps of Sigourney Weaver has been dubbed the new Ripley

Ripley, the indomitable action hero played by Sigourney Weaver in the Alien series, may have hung up her flamethrower for good, but the franchises latest prequel, Alien: Covenant, features a convincing replacement in the form of tough cookie Daniels, played by Katherine Waterston. The 37-year-old actor got her breakthrough role as the enigmatic Shasta Fay in Paul Thomas Andersons fuzzy comic thriller Inherent Vice and was last seen sporting a cloche hat and brandishing a wand as Tina in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

In person, she cuts a jaunty, unassuming figure. She saunters into the room in white trainers and navy trousers, red socks visible in the gap between them: a black tank-top partially conceals a white T-shirt. She is tomboyish and tall, like Ally Sheedy on stilts, so that when she folds her long legs under her chair, she looks exaggeratedly S-shaped. Dealing with the weight of expectation from Alien fans hasnt been too intense, she says, nibbling on a pain aux raisins. The way I looked at it with this and Fantastic Beasts was that it was like being recruited on to a sports team. Theres a devotion from these fans who are just excited for the next game. They arent sat there thinking: Youd better not let me down, Waterston!

Alien: Covenant trailer: Ridley Scott returns with sci-fi thriller

Rumours suggested that Daniels would be Ripleys mother and, whatever the truth, there are resemblances. Both are rational women transformed by circumstance into gun-toting warriors. Both are shown at some point in singlets, or clomping around in magnetic boots, and each has a problematic relationship with a synthetic colleague. The only shortfall comes in the area of the catchphrase, where Danielss multiple efforts (including I got you, you son-of-a-bitch and Lets kill this fucker!) are no match for Ripleys emphatic: Get away from her, you bitch!

Most strikingly, the first note Waterston has to play in the new film is outright panic when technical problems wake her prematurely from hypersleep. The second is grief. Its like slamming on the brakes before anyone has the chance to buckle their seat belts. I didnt know how I would play it or how I could get there, but thats always the most appealing thing to me. The insecurity is exciting. Maybe Im also curious about testing my ability. She widens her eyes. Seeing if its still there.

Although Daniels is treading in Ripleys footsteps, or, given that Covenant is set 20-odd years before Alien, forging the path that Ripley will follow, Waterston didnt talk to Weaver about the part. But the two women have a distant connection. When Waterston was starting out as an actor, she got her first lead role in a play at The Flea, a New York theatre co-founded by Weavers husband, Jim Simpson. Sigourney came to see it and said something like: You were good. Nothing extraordinary. But when someone like her says that, you hang on to it for years. When I got this job, I thought immediately of that moment.

Waterston is big on the idea of all actors as an extended clan, perhaps unsurprisingly for someone whose siblings are in the business, and whose father is Sam Waterston, the veteran from The Killing Fields, Crimes and Misdemeanors and the TV hit Law and Order. Her mother is the former model Lynn Louisa Woodruff. Acting is a community where you come in and out of each others lives. Im slightly envious of the golden age of Hollywood. It must have been frustrating to be owned by the studio, but it was also like being in a company, working with the same people, and that appeals to me.

Working On Alien: Covenant, she was reunited with Carmen Ejogo (Fantastic Beasts) and Michael Fassbender, with whom she shared some fraught scenes in Steve Jobs, as well as her old chum Billy Crudup. At one point during our conversation, she leaps up and yanks open the door in response to voices outside. Billy Crudup, will you shut the fuck up? she hollers down the hallway. Im trying to focus!

Crudup sidles into view. What you doing for dinner tonight, he purrs. You want to join us? Me and Danny McBride? You should be so lucky! What larks. Of course, its entirely possible that she could have put on a more vivid display of her need to cultivate actorly intimacy than bounding out of the room to accost a colleague. Possible, yes, but not likely.

She first saw Crudup when she was 15 in a Broadway production of Tom Stoppards Arcadia, which she now credits with confirming in her mind her acting ambitions. It was the thing that clicked me over to that next level of curiosity. Clicked? You know when youre going up at the start of the rollercoaster and its going click-click-click towards the summit? Id had the initial idea of wanting to act but I didnt know how I could do it.

Even though her dad is an actor? I know! Isnt that weird? On a rollercoaster, theres an inevitability about whats going to happen next.

Did acting feel that way? Yes. Even though I wasnt sure how it would come about, I knew it would.

Determined to distinguish herself from her family, she eschewed performing as a teenager. Didnt appear in so much as a school play. Photography was her bag. I loved the darkroom. Its a good place for an angsty teenager. Her favourite picture is one she took while visiting her father on location in Dublin. Its of this drunk gambler at the racetrack, totally loaded, who had climbed into a tree to get a better view of the horses. She smiles sadly. I cant imagine having the guts to do that now. I wonder sometimes if Ive got in the habit of only being courageous when someone else has written the words I have to say.

Inherent Vice trailer: watch Joaquin Phoenix in the first look at Paul Thomas Andersons Thomas Pynchon adaptation

No one who gave the sort of performance that Waterston did in Inherent Vice should be in any hurry to sell herself short. Shasta Fay appears in only a couple of scenes but her presence permeates the film; she is the personification of its riddles. Attention at the time focused disproportionately on one scene in which Waterston lies naked across the lap of her ex-lover, played by Joaquin Phoenix, and invites him to spank her. One journalist asked if Joaquin left red marks on my butt, she recalls incredulously. I wish Id said: I dont remember but Ill tell you what bend over and Ill spank you as hard as I can and well see what happens.

We live in such hypersexualised yet totally prudish times. People have this expectation about everyone elses relationship to their own bodies. Surely you must have shame about your body? Surely whats scariest for you as actor would be to stand in a room naked? Believe me, Ive been in so many more terrifying situations as a performer than that. This was working with people I trusted in a scene that was rich and complex and there was so much to do there that I hardly even thought about that thing that seems to be all everyone could talk about. Theyre just hoping Ill say: Oh, I was so scared that day and then I drank a few shots of whisky and I felt better. She gives a mighty roll of the eyes.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them trailer: Eddie Redmayne in Harry Potter spinoff video

After Inherent Vice wrapped, she was convinced she would become known as the first actor to be bad in an Anderson movie. That period between finishing the film and opening night is agonising. Thats part of why actors go from job to job so they dont have to live with the anxiety in the interim.

As if to prove that, she has already shot another three pictures since Alien: Covenant, including Steven Soderberghs Logan Lucky opposite Channing Tatum, and is about to start Fantastic Beasts 2.

Having likened acting to a sports team and a rollercoaster, she saves her most conflicted analogy for last. Ive heard this is how cults brainwash people, she says. You wake up and you go to conferences that go on all day and then youre so exhausted that you sleep, and then you get up and do it again the next day. Thats what its like making movies. Youre up before dawn, you collapse at night and then you do it all over again until theres no room for anything else in your brain.

Alien: Covenant is released in Australia today, in the UK on 12 May, and the US on 19 May.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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Alien: Covenants Katherine Waterston: We live in hypersexualised yet totally prudish times

The actor following in the footsteps of Sigourney Weaver has been dubbed the new Ripley

Ripley, the indomitable action hero played by Sigourney Weaver in the Alien series, may have hung up her flamethrower for good, but the franchises latest prequel, Alien: Covenant, features a convincing replacement in the form of tough cookie Daniels, played by Katherine Waterston. The 37-year-old actor got her breakthrough role as the enigmatic Shasta Fay in Paul Thomas Andersons fuzzy comic thriller Inherent Vice and was last seen sporting a cloche hat and brandishing a wand as Tina in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

In person, she cuts a jaunty, unassuming figure. She saunters into the room in white trainers and navy trousers, red socks visible in the gap between them: a black tank-top partially conceals a white T-shirt. She is tomboyish and tall, like Ally Sheedy on stilts, so that when she folds her long legs under her chair, she looks exaggeratedly S-shaped. Dealing with the weight of expectation from Alien fans hasnt been too intense, she says, nibbling on a pain aux raisins. The way I looked at it with this and Fantastic Beasts was that it was like being recruited on to a sports team. Theres a devotion from these fans who are just excited for the next game. They arent sat there thinking: Youd better not let me down, Waterston!

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Rumours suggested that Daniels would be Ripleys mother and, whatever the truth, there are resemblances. Both are rational women transformed by circumstance into gun-toting warriors. Both are shown at some point in singlets, or clomping around in magnetic boots, and each has a problematic relationship with a synthetic colleague. The only shortfall comes in the area of the catchphrase, where Danielss multiple efforts (including I got you, you son-of-a-bitch and Lets kill this fucker!) are no match for Ripleys emphatic: Get away from her, you bitch!

Most strikingly, the first note Waterston has to play in the new film is outright panic when technical problems wake her prematurely from hypersleep. The second is grief. Its like slamming on the brakes before anyone has the chance to buckle their seat belts. I didnt know how I would play it or how I could get there, but thats always the most appealing thing to me. The insecurity is exciting. Maybe Im also curious about testing my ability. She widens her eyes. Seeing if its still there.

Although Daniels is treading in Ripleys footsteps, or, given that Covenant is set 20-odd years before Alien, forging the path that Ripley will follow, Waterston didnt talk to Weaver about the part. But the two women have a distant connection. When Waterston was starting out as an actor, she got her first lead role in a play at The Flea, a New York theatre co-founded by Weavers husband, Jim Simpson. Sigourney came to see it and said something like: You were good. Nothing extraordinary. But when someone like her says that, you hang on to it for years. When I got this job, I thought immediately of that moment.

Waterston is big on the idea of all actors as an extended clan, perhaps unsurprisingly for someone whose siblings are in the business, and whose father is Sam Waterston, the veteran from The Killing Fields, Crimes and Misdemeanors and the TV hit Law and Order. Her mother is the former model Lynn Louisa Woodruff. Acting is a community where you come in and out of each others lives. Im slightly envious of the golden age of Hollywood. It must have been frustrating to be owned by the studio, but it was also like being in a company, working with the same people, and that appeals to me.

Working On Alien: Covenant, she was reunited with Carmen Ejogo (Fantastic Beasts) and Michael Fassbender, with whom she shared some fraught scenes in Steve Jobs, as well as her old chum Billy Crudup. At one point during our conversation, she leaps up and yanks open the door in response to voices outside. Billy Crudup, will you shut the fuck up? she hollers down the hallway. Im trying to focus!

Crudup sidles into view. What you doing for dinner tonight, he purrs. You want to join us? Me and Danny McBride? You should be so lucky! What larks. Of course, its entirely possible that she could have put on a more vivid display of her need to cultivate actorly intimacy than bounding out of the room to accost a colleague. Possible, yes, but not likely.

She first saw Crudup when she was 15 in a Broadway production of Tom Stoppards Arcadia, which she now credits with confirming in her mind her acting ambitions. It was the thing that clicked me over to that next level of curiosity. Clicked? You know when youre going up at the start of the rollercoaster and its going click-click-click towards the summit? Id had the initial idea of wanting to act but I didnt know how I could do it.

Even though her dad is an actor? I know! Isnt that weird? On a rollercoaster, theres an inevitability about whats going to happen next.

Did acting feel that way? Yes. Even though I wasnt sure how it would come about, I knew it would.

Determined to distinguish herself from her family, she eschewed performing as a teenager. Didnt appear in so much as a school play. Photography was her bag. I loved the darkroom. Its a good place for an angsty teenager. Her favourite picture is one she took while visiting her father on location in Dublin. Its of this drunk gambler at the racetrack, totally loaded, who had climbed into a tree to get a better view of the horses. She smiles sadly. I cant imagine having the guts to do that now. I wonder sometimes if Ive got in the habit of only being courageous when someone else has written the words I have to say.

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No one who gave the sort of performance that Waterston did in Inherent Vice should be in any hurry to sell herself short. Shasta Fay appears in only a couple of scenes but her presence permeates the film; she is the personification of its riddles. Attention at the time focused disproportionately on one scene in which Waterston lies naked across the lap of her ex-lover, played by Joaquin Phoenix, and invites him to spank her. One journalist asked if Joaquin left red marks on my butt, she recalls incredulously. I wish Id said: I dont remember but Ill tell you what bend over and Ill spank you as hard as I can and well see what happens.

We live in such hypersexualised yet totally prudish times. People have this expectation about everyone elses relationship to their own bodies. Surely you must have shame about your body? Surely whats scariest for you as actor would be to stand in a room naked? Believe me, Ive been in so many more terrifying situations as a performer than that. This was working with people I trusted in a scene that was rich and complex and there was so much to do there that I hardly even thought about that thing that seems to be all everyone could talk about. Theyre just hoping Ill say: Oh, I was so scared that day and then I drank a few shots of whisky and I felt better. She gives a mighty roll of the eyes.

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After Inherent Vice wrapped, she was convinced she would become known as the first actor to be bad in an Anderson movie. That period between finishing the film and opening night is agonising. Thats part of why actors go from job to job so they dont have to live with the anxiety in the interim.

As if to prove that, she has already shot another three pictures since Alien: Covenant, including Steven Soderberghs Logan Lucky opposite Channing Tatum, and is about to start Fantastic Beasts 2.

Having likened acting to a sports team and a rollercoaster, she saves her most conflicted analogy for last. Ive heard this is how cults brainwash people, she says. You wake up and you go to conferences that go on all day and then youre so exhausted that you sleep, and then you get up and do it again the next day. Thats what its like making movies. Youre up before dawn, you collapse at night and then you do it all over again until theres no room for anything else in your brain.

Alien: Covenant is released in Australia today, in the UK on 12 May, and the US on 19 May.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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