#With the same crazy luck as he did the element nations

[hpdabbles]

MORE FOR MAGICAL RAMEN PLEASE! I WOULD LIKE TO SEE NARUTO'S DEDICATION IN SEEING REMUS AGAIN

Naruto- who refuses to go by Harry no matter how much it would have meant to his new parents- allowed himself to laugh as yet another bully stumbled away. His cousin had attempted to have him jump but the civilians were sadly way over their heads if they thought they could take on Naruto, who had finally worked his body up to chunin levels. 

He flexes his hands, fingers thumping in the familiar ache of his knuckles releasing the tension they had been placed in for throwing punches. He leans back on his heels, his chakra humming and causing extensive amounts of energy his young body couldn’t control yet, which has him in consent movement.

His aunt hates that he can’t keep still but so did many of his instructors back at the academy and like then he merely sticks out his tongue, all while keeping his sunny disposition. 

The Dursleys are at their wit's ends with him. His uncle had tried to be big and intimating but Naruto has taken down foes just as large and twice as strong. His aunt tried to lock him in a cupboard with no food, but Naruto picked the lock and hunted his own meal- though it was rather hard with nearly no forest near him. 

They threaten to throw him out in the street which he cheerfully informs them, that would be nothing he couldn’t handle and he would be taking his dead parents money with him. Naruto had learn how to save his funds, and budget from a lifetime of being a scorn orphan, which meant he knew just how much power gold really held. 

He wasn’t sure how he would go about getting the child services to give him the money that belong to the Potters since this new world had ridiculous child protection laws but he was sure he find a way. His uncle and aunt knew it too, after seeing his never wavering stubbornness.

It didn’t stop them from spreading rumors about him and his parents, rumors that turn him into a trouble making burden but again, Naruto was used to the sneers and looks of distain. It hurt but it wasn’t going to stop him from finding the three men who were more like family then the two adults and chubby child he was dumped on.  

It finally came down to a a agreement. The Dursleys pretend Naruto didn’t exist if he keep up with his chores- D rank missions really- and they turn a blind eye to everything off about him.

Like the fact that while “unusually” intelligent for his age he detested any paperwork and especially classwork, he self-taught himself his personalize Taijustu in the park under the amazed eyes of the neighbors impressed despite themselves  and out of many preying eyes he regain his Justus. 

The chores were much easier to do with his shadow clones. Though the first time he summon them his Aunt threw a fit, trying to tell him “magic” would not be allowed in her house. 

Naruto and his clones had laughed at her,  simultaneously until she fled back to her room, urging Dudley to stay in his until Naruto finished with the chores. He agree not to use it in public- as even he knew civilians didn’t react well to ninjas making a prolong stay among them especially when they used Justus. It made them unlikely to hire the Leaf for missions.  A ninja that couldn’t get missions was a ninja that failed his village. 

It was a bit strange to be the only ninja with a functioning chakra system for miles and miles. Naruto tried to find others like him for years but no matter where he went none of the people had tapped into their chakra’s. Sometimes it felt like they didn’t even have a system which went against everything he was taught as Naruto Uzumaki. 

Naruto did not let any of this get in the way of his search for ‘Emus, Dog-man, and Rat-man. He created flyers from the foggy memories, and placed them everywhere. He asked random people in the street. He sent out clones to near by cities and broke into any government building he could find- their security is terrible- but nothing had come up.

His attempt to gather information from his guardians yield the same results though he got the sense they knew more then they let on. Back in the Leaf village Naruto’s team had always been more of front line combat then information gathers or trackers and his lack of support from those departments were making his search that much harder.

He finally understood what Iruka-sensei meant when he used to say every role a Leaf Ninja played was a role needed for the success village.

It was during one of his daily on foot searches that Naruto had a owl land before him carrying a letter. He paused from where he was stapling a poster of  Dog-man, a terrible drawing and a brief description of the last time seen, were the only thing on the poster with his house number as a place to contact should anyone have any information. 

The owl hoots, sticking out it’s leg at him. 

“A messenger bird...” Naruto breathes stun. It’s not much but it’s been so long since he had something familiar like what his life as a Leaf Ninja in this new world that he thought he would never see a messenger bird again. It feels like a small part of him, of his old life, had been return.  

Carefully, while licking his dry lips, he reaches out to take the letter. Years of animal care kick in as he gently unwarps the string holding the envelope, and hands over bits of the granola bar he had in his pocket for the bird to eat. 

He waits until the Owl finished picking the bits form his palm, smiling when it climbs onto his arm and runs up his forearm to rest on his shoulder. The talons are digging into his skin, the dull pain a breath of fresh air as he suddenly remember the same type of feeling when he send back reports to his village. 

Carefully he opens the letter.

Naruto reads the lines over and over again. It’s a letter congratulating him on his acceptance to a magical school, a list of supplies and a map to where he can find them. He tries to search for lies but he can’t figure out what is and isn’t though written form. It’s only because they sent a messenger bird, a form of communication he knows is not common place, that he doesn’t crumble up the strange paper and accepts the fact.

Harry Potter is a wizard and Naruto is Harry Potter.

He sends back a agreement to be present the first day of school and races home, his stack of posters flying behind him in his red wagon. He doesn’t bother with letting his aunt and uncle argue that they won’t allow him to go because this may be the closest he’s ever been to finding  ‘Emus, Dog-man, and Rat-man. 

He stares them down, unwilling to back off or crumble until they agree. He is bouncing all over the place, excited even when his aunt takes him to a strange pub hands him a wallet of money and tells him to buy what he needs before speeding away.

Naruto likes the Leaky cauldron even though it goes dead salient when he walks in. His eyes run over the stun customers down right gleeful he has finally, finally , found the chakra users.

Sure the systems feel slightly different like the samurai felt different but not exactly the same as the honor based sword swingers. The people in this establishment had tapped their chakra’s and that alone gave him new found hope. 

“I say, Harry Potter! As I live and breath! Sir it’s a honor” A gruffy old man says stepping into his line of sight and shaking Naruto’s hand. The dark hair boy- still after all these years he was not used to not seeing sunshine bright hair- blinks up at him but he smiles anyway.

He likes meeting new people, after all a stranger could be his new friend and his new precious  person . 

“Hi there!” He chirps signature grin springing to life on his lips. The man looks blinded. “It’s nice to meet you. Call me Naruto please.”

As if though that was a signal everyone around him leaps to their feet racing over to introduce themselves as well and Naruto can’t fandom why. He always wanted a warm hero’s welcome like this but he hasn’t done anything to earn it yet. Not here. There was no war or grand fight he part took in to earn the kind of awe and devotion of the population like the aftermath of Pain’s attack did.

It while he meeting everyone that his eyes land on a family of red heads half sitting and half standing in the corner, looking as if they all want to get closer too but aren’t sure if they should. There is a woman, a man, five children- four male on female- and Naruto has to crane his neck to keep them in sight as the crowd around him grows. 

He doesn’t know what about them caught his attention but his eyes zero in on the one in the glasses.

Or more specifically on the rat resting on the teenager’s shoulder. A quick scan with his chakra confirms what he already knew. He pushes the hands trying to shake his own and breaks though the crowd faster then what the people are expecting. Ninja speed is still faster then what these wizards are used to.

Before the red-head teenager knows what is happening Naruto has reached out and taken the rat, holding the squealing creature to his face smiling widely. Maybe even madly. “RAT-MAN I FOUND YOU!”

Everyone stares at him. 

“Um...that’s Scabbers” The red head around his age says slowly.  “He is Percy’s pet.”

“No this is Rat-man!” Naruto corrects breezily, he pulls the thrashing animal closer gently petting it’s head. “He used to visit me as a baby. I never forget his chakra. Rat-man have you seen ‘Emus or Dog-man? I can’t find them anywhere!”

The boy is staring at him with the kind of look one would give a screaming man in the street. Weary and unable to look away.

“Stop shaking Scabbers!” The red-head with glasses Percy he thinks, yells. He holds out his hand. “You’re scaring him! Give him back!”

“No! I just found him! I’ve been looking for years for him.” Naruto yells back pressing the animal to his chest and sticking out his tongue at the rapidly red face turning teenager.

“I think there may have been a mistake.” The man who looks like all the children, their father, says stepping in and holding a stick. “Scabbers has been in our family. He isn’t a man.”

“He is!” Naruto argues. 

The man has the kind of look Kakashi-sensei used to wear. The one that says he only agree to amuse Naruto. “How about I cast Animagus reversal spell. Then we can see if he is a man or my son’s pet.” 

Naruto fingers tighten around the suddenly much more violently thrashing rat. “It won’t hurt him? He is my parents’ friend.”

“He won’t feel a thing.” The man swears and Naruto nods keeping a weary eye on the man’s chakra in case he tries anything but feeling nothing but good intentions from him and holding out the rat. A light blue light zaps out of the man’s wand landing on the Rat-man and at once his features change. Naruto doesn’t let go, not even when the body out grows his hands and the man turns back into a human.

He keeps a tight hold until the man is sitting before the gasping audience. Naruto doesn’t care for the rapidly paling face of the red headed family or the scrambling of people who try to get away. He throws himself around Rat-man’s neck and squeezes.  “I knew you were okay! I knew you haven’t been caught even when Mom and Dad got killed. Where have you been? Why are you hiding like a rat? Do you like ramen? Hey hey, do you still have that skull and snake tattoo?”

His celebration and rapid firing questions is cut short by a couple of wizards in red robes called Aurors body slamming Rat-man into the ground.

Naruto finds them very rude.

[miyomiikonran]

Whumptober Day 4

Extra rules: Each short story will be between 500-1000 words and will include at least one of my or @ironic-artist's OCs.

Today's theme: Running out of time

Choosen prompt: Collapsed building

Universe: Wakfu (explanation in notes)

Character: Takashi

Word count: ~1000

Trigger warnings: Emotional and mental distress

For more notes please look at the end!

___________________________________________

Who would have thought that's how he's gonna end up. Under a tons of stone chunks, bricks, tiles… Definitely not the way Takashi imagined himself to go. But one thing was sure, he took that bitch with him.

It was supposed to be their big day, the day when they're either gonna win or everything will go to shit and they're gonna die one way or another. Pretty much a day to look forward to. Attack on palace started before dawn, as they had to get through old dungeons leading from prison all the way under the palace, possibly undetected for as long as possible, with all forces available at the moment. Whole island was tense for a few days now. Both sides knew final clash will happen eventually, as army's reinforcements were on their way to help with ongoing revolt against King Adale. Rebels would obviously stand no chance against them, because of their high tech, despite higher numbers.

After they arrived under the palace, real battle finally began. Everything was going smoothly at first, as they managed to get lower levels under control. But once they started moving further, losses were starting to grow as King's personal guard was protecting central parts of palace. First fall back and need for regroup caused doubts to grow, which was the main reason for officer meeting to be called. His shoulder still felt stiff while he moved it, because of that blow from axe he got three weeks ago. Thanks to Shinuo it was mostly healed, otherwise he couldn't be here now.

In the end it was decided that they have to give it all they got in last deciding offensive. They thought they would had few hours left till dusk to prepare… Till King's General didn't appear out of nowhere in her damn robotic suit. Of course that crazy bitch had to somehow get ahead of rest reinforcements! Just her presence alone caused a lot of panic as she was known for having no mercy even towards her own soldiers not even mentioning any traitors to the kingdom. That's when he and maybe dozen other people from his old unit got the same idea, just as batshit crazy as their enemy. They did their best to provoke her and take her away from main forces. Unfortunately, they were lucky enough for it to work.

That's how they found themselves in ballroom at the far west section of the palace, which was topped with huge dome and surrounded with massive, thick columns all round. These were great hiding places, at least for as long as Miss General didn't decide to put her portable cannon to use. Soon they felt how whole construction started to shake with each heavy step of robotic suit jumping around. It was the last chance to leave, they all knew it. But he didn't make it. Entrance got blocked by stone supports from ceiling just before his eyes. Just his kind of luck.

One of his last pieces of memory before ceiling completely fell apart was being chased by her, trying to hide behind what remained from all the columns and other rubble, right as piece of ceiling fell onto robotic suit, causing General herself to crawl out of it, pissed and bloodthristy. Last seconds got filled with their struggle on the ground, exchanging hits. His last thought hardly could be called sane, as he used a small fire spell Shinuo taught him to ignite whatever shit was seeping from broken robotic suit. Explosion was the last hit, right after it whole ballroom turned into rubble. Heavy, suffocating grave for the both of them.

Being burried alive is new kind of nightmare he never had to imagine. It was so hard to breathe... He knew his ribs got smashed, pain basically was going through his spine with every deeper inhale or exhale. Dust all around, on his face, in his hair, flying all around in all these tight spaces, tangling in his throat, as he desperately tried not to cough. He couldn't move his legs, that's for sure, but hey, at least he felt them! Mostly more pain but that's something... If someone's gonna find him.

Takashi's thoughts were going crazy at the time. Panic was slowly seeping in as more and more scenarios were apprearing in his mind. How's Shinuo gonna react? Will he be alright? As long as rest succeeds, probably… If not, then even doctors treating rebels might pay heavy price. Feeling of powerlessness was kinda terrifing. He tried to calm his breath but panic finally made him cough so hard his vision got black for a second. He asked Shinuo to stay away from this whole mess! But obviously he wouldn't listen, so so devoted to help in whatever way he could. Of course he would... He's never gonna see Hidemichi again, or his girlfriend. Maybe Hide will help Shinuo to get out of trouble? He could take him to Amakna, or something… That thought was weirdly reassuring, despite being stuck. Even if he's gonna die here… Thought sent shivers down his spine. How long will it take….? His head started to feel dizzy. It already hurt before, now it only was getting worse. With time it started to get pretty chilly, so he suspected that night came already. He couldn't hear anything though. No sounds of battle, nor someone digging through these damn stones. He finally lost his consciousness as new day came.

* * *

Is there anything more terrifing than thinking you might've lost your twin?

Shinuo just couldn't be stopped since information that Takashi's probably burried somewhere under collapsed part of palace reached him. Uncertainty was there, of course, but his mind was too skilled in sending him more and more visions of painful death in that scenario. He wanted to help but most stones were too heavy for him to lift... Finally he left, heartbroken, but aware there's nothing he could've done to help. He went back to field hospital instead. That's where he can make a difference. He had to occupy himself with something, anything! It's not like they had any free time on their hands anyway, with so many injured, among rebels, soldiers and civilians alike.

As late evening came, he heard some shouts. And even a bit of cheering from nerby tent. He rushed there right away...and there he was, unconscious, worn out, with his legs so heavily bloodied but at least alive. However, elderly doctor stopped him before he could get close to Takashi, who was taken to their "intensive care" tent. If you can call a tent like that...

- That's bad idea. Look at yourself, you're barely on your feet right now. Better leave it to others, you're already a ball of nerves. Go and rest, have some sleep. - woman insisted, but before she let him go, she pushed something into his own hand.- Take a look, he had it in his hand.

It was a little, golden like metal badge, now heavily scratched and bent in one place. The General's badge.

___________________________________________

Sloooowly but I'm still going. Today's lil writing is still about my two main babies, but in completely different setting, in universe known from fantasy MMORPG called Wakfu, as well as anime series. It's Takashi and Shinuo's original world, I created them while game was still in beta qwq. Good old days. For those of you who might not know, it's a world with twelve main races, each with it's own God/Goddess, powers based on them and stuff. It also has four nations player is able to choose as their character's main base. Takashi and Shinuo are born as Eniripsas (healing class in this universe) and their nation was ocean-oriented island of Sufokia, who also appears in anime series. My plot for them is basically a mix of both game elements and anime's setting with some of my own twists.

This scene was in my head for years by now. You see, in anime series we can see a young, egoistic prince Adale of Sufokia, who's absolute dipshit unable to properly command his troops as he tries to take over an island for his father's kingdom. Just to spice things a bit I made him a King in here for good chunk of time only to plan a revolt against him when city guards (which was actually position you could have in game too!) and civilians had enough of his neverending wars with other nations that kept ruining Sufokia as a whole. Takashi who worked hard for few years to become a guard and actually get his own small team of people, obviously joined the fight as the hot-head he is. Shinuo as a good brother and skilled doctor he is, followed him into this chaos.

What's kinda funny is that mentioned General also appeared in anime series and was just as crazy and ridiculous in her behaviour as I described. If you don't believe me then go check up 2-3 last episodes from season 2 of anime series :')

[donnnoir]

Alien Invasions...

Alien Invasions…

Starting in 2020-2021, Non-Terran entities will set upon our world to claim what was promised to them by “Treaty”.  It will be as an orchestrated “invasion” and “war”.  Since the probability is that the population of the world is NOT going to go along with giving away portions of the Earth in pursuit of the agendas of the Ultra-Elite, principally those of the Blood Occultic Families.  As per the terms of this “Treaty” these beings are to receive the “Pacific”; from the Aleutian Islands down to the equator including the coastlines anywhere from twenty to hundred miles inland. I suspect that that will just be the beginning of the process. Eventually these invaders will want to take possession of the entire world.  This is why in the media we are being presented “trans-humanistic” thought and that it will require us leaving the Earth to survive.  The realities associated with this is that it calls for a very small fraction of less than one percent that get to leave.  And should this initial “invasion” fail there are others planned which are scripted very differently...

Anyone acquainted with UFO / Flying Saucer mythology and lore will be familiar with the allusion of a predecessor to NASA.  It is commonly referenced when dealing with several presumed technological advancements or anomalies circa Roswell and before.  Without going too far afield of the focus of this essay; it should be noted that “visitors” have interacted with the human race continuously for the majority of our time upon Earth.  Much like from the old “Star Trek” series there are varying rules to the types of interactions, think “Prime Directive”.   It needs to be recognized that Not all visitors are the same, nor of benevolent intent.  Shocking as that may seem to some of the New Age crowd.  Nor are they necessarily from Our Reality, Realm, or Dimension.  Some of the entities we meet and interact with are not even representative of the beings we presume they are.  Rather they are actually a bio-mechinoid entity that is piloted or driven by its host from a great distance away; as is the case with the classic “Greys” that populate UFO mythologies (previously addressed in another essay).  

At the turn of the last century before our present, as the world industrialized and prepared for war.  The majority of the world leaders and governments, or rather those of the industrial powers and the West had at least been visited by Non-Terran entities and felt like they had the initial footing to develop an ad hoc diplomatic envoy.  At least that is what they were lead to believe.  Soon enough the world was embroiled in WWI, and the horrors of war in an industrialized era were unleashed.  Following the cessation of hostilities and the signing of an armistice.  WWI had been a slug-fest with both sides slaughtering each other, never to gain the advantage.  Human nature as it is did Not learn to beat their swords into plow-shears; instead we rushed headlong into finding better means of slaughter.  The blame and thereby reparations for WWI fell on Germany.  Strangely something called the League of Nations was formed in 1920.  People were told it was for the purpose of preventing further conflicts, as if that has ever worked.  Or at least that is what they would have us believe.  I say The League of Nations’ actual and sole purpose they accomplished within the first twenty-four months and as it became increasingly irrelevant it subsequently disbanded.

We created this “International World Governing” body with its power to enter into a “treaty” with any foreign power (even of Non-Terran origins).  As in this particular case the foreign power was a group of Non-Terran visitors.  Principally represented by the “Greys”.  The Bio-mechinoids whose drivers / pilots are from a lower harmonically resonating Realm / Dimension.  These beings are possessed of a hive mind.  Our ancestors in times past usually referred to them as “demons”.  Admittedly though their warrior class has a highly ritualized sense of combat giving them an appearance of “honor” when engaged, in single combat.  It is as close to the concept as these beings are capable.  

The nations of the world sought accelerated access to the technologies these Non-Terrans had displayed during their interactions with said world leaders.  For us the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve there is a loophole in the operations of the “Prime Directive” as it were.  The visitors are barred from giving or offering to give us their technologies of their own volition.  We, however may choose to barter our lives and birthright away.  It is the sum of free agency, and election.  We get to weave plenty of new rope, tie it off into a hangman’s noose, place it around our necks and jump off the roof.  And so we did, entering into a treaty with these beings.

As a consequence of WWI, with Germany being unjustly burdened with the blame for WWI and the associated reparations; their National Pride was injured.  With the rise of the National Socialist Party and their underlying Occultic beliefs and perspectives they readily pursued acquiring any advantage they could.  Thus the NAZIs were more effective at manipulating access to this alien technology.  Setting up a military base in antarctic and quite possibly the moon.  The “urban myth” of which is the bases of the recent cult classic “Iron Sky”.  A delightful case of Art imitating Life.

I have Not seen a copy of the actual “treaty”.  I have been able to deduce some of the terms of the “treaty”, if that is what we can call it (since the general population of the world, whom it impacts the most were NOT a party to the process).  For Americans and those of Western Culture and thought, we have a problem with issues where we lack representation; having fought wars over that principle. Nonetheless as to the “time period” prior to the terms and transfer of possession (the transfer of ownership to the new owners) is the standard 99 year time frame.  Which means 2020–2021 promises to be a watershed year of fun.  The terms oblige us to DE-Terra Form our world making it more habitable for the new owners.  These new residents prefer a much higher background radiation than do humans. The biosphere must be degraded to accommodate them, otherwise the microbes of a health ecosystem could readily defend our world (think “War of the Worlds”)  Additionally, We are suppose to DE-Tune the resonance of our world.  The Earth rings with its own unique pitch and tone, that favors us, humans.  It tends to make beings from other places ill, especially over time.  If you understood these requirements of the “treaty”.  You would understand why global powers have elected the courses of actions they have over the past nearly one hundred years.  Why we as a species have always selected and done the worst possible when given choices.  Worse yet why we have so obsessed with perpetuating and compounding our stupidity in some doomed attempt at trying to save our world.

These Demons are to receive for their participation – basically the entire Pacific.  Most countries have written off their coastal populations; or as is the case in America we are seeding the coastal areas as sacrifice zones.  Those that survive the initial wave and onslaught, will be a ready food source, labor pool and hosts for the invaders.

Understanding this also explains the unnecessary fifth column actions currently destabilizing Europe.  And why the current administration is attempting to mitigate a similar situation here.  Granted the administrations attitude and means generally needlessly aggravates the process.  Not that Trump is the Great American Hero; he just represents a particular faction that is uncomfortable sacrificing America for this process.  Because as amazing as it may seem there are elements that do NOT trust these Demonic “aliens” to hold to the terms as agreed.  Some of this opposition within the ranks basically disagree with the treaty.  They can NOT openly ferment their dissent, as it would violate their oaths and subject them to “treason” charges.  So they hedge their bets, and wait for the inevitable.  

“Crazy” and “Fantastic”, yeah I know.  Do you and yours a favor and simply look to the night skies.  Those are NOT satellites or sky-lab you see, they are an alien invasion force.  Elements of the Sky Warden Force have been fighting them for close to a decade.  If you have access to fourth generation night vision and some powerful optical binoculars or telescopes.  Look to the night sky, know that the long black triangles are Our forces fighting these aliens and their crafts.  Good Luck and G-dspeed to us all...

[15megapixels]

Childhood OCs & Comic Ideas # 1: Elemental Stones

/confused? check out my master post about this self project here/

Age when I made this: 8 or 9

Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Fantasy, (a bit of) Drama, Action

Heavily influenced by (i’m too ashamed to admit this but): hana kimi (the japanese live action one), naruto, atla – the start of my weeb days

disclaimer: i won’t be surprised if you’ll cringe a lot, but oh well

Story

Naho is a transfer student freshman of an all boys academy-dormitory. He is aware that he isn’t like everyone else in this school, much less of this world. Simply because he wasn’t from it. In his home world, people possessed a power coming from the foundational elemental stones, namely: fire, water, air, earth.

No one knows (yet) where the so called elemental stones came from, or how their world was separated from the humans’. Although the only thing that separates their people to us is the powers they have.

More or less, these powerful stones gave the home world that unique identity they know. Each element holder was tasked to lead their own tribes; tribes who lived peacefully and independently through the years, help each other out, and slowly expanding to more smaller tribes/ clans.

The peace was disrupted because of a decision made by one person, and this was Naho’s father, Dr. Akono, a scientist, inventor, and also the first holder of the fire element stone. When he knew he needed someone to take over his power so he could focus on his secret project (of the creation of hybrid of elemental stones from the shards of the other holders, and selling it in the black market), he decided to make Naho, and not his older brother, Absin, to inherit the fire stone.

Absin knew that his father’s decision should not be questioned, but at the same time he is incapable of just accepting it. He was enraged. He wanted answers. He wanted to know if he lacked the skills, or talent, or failed his tests– something. But his father only gave him a cold shoulder if the topic is ever brought up.

In that moment, Absin decided that if he wanted to get something done, he must do it by himself.

Absin, who also assists his father in the lab from time to time, had an access inside, sneaked to his father’s office at midnight and discovered the secret project. Absin found a hidden passage,that leads to a basement filled with boxes full of bead shaped stones that resemble the elemental stones, but filled dark substance instead. He didn’t think of finding documents to know what are these for.

All that came to him was a crazy idea, if he wish to fully experience the stones’ powers, he would not wear it like a piece of jewelry (like what the other holders/ people do in their home world), and he would rather consume it.

The following day, Naho, now wearing the fire stone around in his neck, woke up late and alone in his room (which is very odd for him because their family is a royal household) without the “breakfast in bed”, “i’ll dress you up young master”, and “this is your itinerary for today” routine bombarding him.

So, he dressed himself, went down to the halls, the kitchen, the dining area, the music room, etc. He called out of their servants’ names for minutes– but none answered him, the mansion was silent and no one was around, so he thought.

Until he arrived in their family library, where he was greeted by the corpses of his parents, deeply impaled by a black metal rod in each of their chests– Naho can’t take his eyes off of this awful sight, while Absin appears out of nowhere, drenched in blood, and patiently waiting for him to turn his back.

Fast forward, Naho’s brother challenged him for a fight, for the survivor to be the one worthy of their father’s throne, and for Naho to hand over the fire stone.

Both of them knew they were unstable for battle. Absin who was currently experiencing the side effect of ingesting experimental objects, and Naho, who lacked combat skills, yet, was very emotional; agreed to the challenge. Absin grins, and was confidently ready to obliterate his only sibling.

It all went too fast– all Naho remembered was how his brother looked like a demon and how darkness engulfed him when he was attacked– but was surprised he didn’t die.

Naho he woke up in a forest, in the smell of healing herbs, and found himself with a thing/person/being made out of black smoke who introduced itself as Master, who appears to have saved him from his death.

Master and Naho’s conversation was short, Naho was in shock that he was asleep for 7 months, and his brother (like what the fire nation in atla did) sent his army to centralize the power to their tribe, is creating monsters, and would not cease in bringing destruction unless he acquired all of the elemental stones.

Thus, the prologue ends and the story begins. After Master trained Naho to master his element, he tasks him to help in finding the other foundational elemental stone holders in order to stop his brother before their world collapses. Naho was of course up for the job, all for the sake of his parents and the future of their people. However, he was surprised that his journey would require him to go out of his comfort zone, again, and jump to a different world. The human world.

—–

Characters

note: i just threw all out of the important bits here. not much of a personality-wise description. sorry if its incoherent

Going back, Naho now enters in this all-boy-school because he heard rumors that he has two of his childhood friends who are studying there. There he meets:

Syo -  (water stone holder), who lived his childhood in their home world but was sent to the human world (likes some sort of foreign exchange student)

Sukiro  - (electricity stone holder), the stone he acquired was originally a family treasure, but stole it and traveled to the human world because he knew the stone only caused bad luck and destruction because of its impurity (later in my comic it is revealed that his family was the one who commissioned Dr. Akono in the first place to experiment with elemental stones).

Also, they meet other elemental stone holders as well like

Magski - (air stone holder), a lone wolf/ orphan from the air tribe, who won the air stone from a colosseum fight. Since then she was hailed as their queen and leader, the weird thing she experiences is, she doesn’t age and experiences memory lapse from time to time (but can’t pinpoint why)

Dyoli - (earth stone holder), he inherited the earth stone because he was an only child. He’s a die hard fan of Dr. Akono’s works. Despite being blind, this dork and genius kid is talented in creating machines, weaponry, and gadgets. He can only see through the eyes of his dog robot- with a well thought of name, Dyoli Jr.

Shaco - (darkness stone holder), she is a character similar to Syo, of her powers being impure. She is one of the lab rats of Absin who escaped and traumatized from his experiments. She then later developed a power to control paranormal activities– but joins Naho’s crew in search of a cure.

i don’t actually recall why I made their names end in Os and Is. *shrug*

—–

Fun facts!

Elemental Stones comic ran for 2 years because my sisters were very fond and hooked in this comic (which is weird because Ii noticed most of the chapters were Naho and the gang’s school lives together and filler episodes before I went back to the plot lol), and I enjoyed sketching action scenes.

I stopped because I pursued new comic ideas. Then in 2015, I made a cohesive origin story of the elemental stones, how the home world was established by the initiative Dr. Akono and of the first holders, Master’s  identity, ++ some surprise twists (like Magski being a time traveler).

That’s all for now. Whew!

[randomblogofjunk]

The Two Avatars au

for as long as their families could recount they were either earth or nonbenders. So when entity had bent fire, of course their father was outraged. As was a wealthy and high up man, he held a lot of power and, in a fit of rage, banished his wife and children from the community. Understanding what the fire had to have meant, their mother handed the entity to the officials to train, in hopes of getting him trained and a roof overhead. Only for them to take the entity.

“But what of us?” She asked

“Do either of you bend?”

“Well I can but-“

“Then you may”

“But what of Dwight?”

“We have a place we shall send him”

And at fourteen, Dwight is sent on a boat, alone for the first time.

The voyage was Supposed to be a quiet one, no one could have predicted the storm.The ocean had viciously beaten upon the ship as everyone scrambled to the life preservers.

No one even noticed when Dwight slipped and fell into the sea.

Nor did they notice the blue glow that illuminated from the tides.

Eight years pass and as the days grew on, entity’s sanity slowly dwindled.

The death of his twin broke him, if he hadn’t Bended in the first place then none of this would’ve happened; He never got to grieve.

“Never settle for nothing but perfection.”

‘Perfection.

Tch.

You can never be perfect in bending.

It’s sloppy.

Ever changing

You can never perfect something like it.

Something so… impure.’

Then, one day, he snapped.

“What are you doing!?” They exclaimed

“Why are you not helping!?”

“Why,I am helping, and I’m not settling for anything but perfection.”

He replied as the town slowly burned to they grown.

“Yes”, he whispered

“For too long I have made due with less, but now it’s time for change”

As his masters slowly bled out there was one thing he could think

“The time of bending is drawing to a close.”

Eight years after Dwight miraculously awoke on a beach with little more than his first name. He didn’t have much going for him as a humble earthbender who barely knew how to lift a stone. He had no memory of his past and was working a dead end job at a small tea shop.

He didn’t have anything going for him until he accidentally froze a cup of tea.

~~~~~~~~~

Avatars: dwight, entity

Earth benders: bill, jake

water bender: Laurie, Quentin, Claudette

Air benders: meg, nea, Kate

Fire benders: David, Feng

Nonbenders: ace, tapp

~~~~~~~~~

Bill: 

old earthbender master

Says he’s retired

Joins because “someone has to teach these punks and keep them out of trouble”

Part of the white lotus

Is probably toph’s great-great-grandfather 

~~~

Jake:

earth kingdom royalty (second prince)

Will not admit he’s royalty

found the others while he was sneaking outside the palace

Was never allowed to bend growing up

Ran away to join Dwight’s quest to ”understand himself”

really just wants to learn earthbending and thinks Dwight is too cute and doesn’t want him to get killed because he is so pure at heart 

~~~

Laurie:

Is the mom of the group

She’s a sweetheart

Wanted to visit her cousin in the northern tribe

Ended up hitching a ride with the others and never really left

~~~~

Quentin:

Laurie’s cousin

Waterbending god

Will personally jump off a bridge for anyone he cares about

sleepy boi

~~~~

Meg: 

Left the temples cause she didn’t like their style

Can beat anyone in a race

“Air bending is not cheating”

Is best friends with nea

~~~~

Nea:

Comes from a traveling nomad airbending family

Has zero fears of heights

Best friends with meg

Is good with throwing knives

`~~~~~

David: 

Fire nation prince

Is a royal pain

Means well

Very good with hand to hand and fire bending

Very overprotective 

~~~~

Feng: 

is David’s bodyguard

Accidentally got dragged along

The fire nation thinks she kidnapped the prince

She, in fact, did not

“Fite me”

Could beat up anyone

Does not look like it

She uses it as an advantage 

~~~~

Claudette:

A traveling doctor of sorts

Worries about everyone

If Laurie is the Mom of the group, then Claudette is the mom to the second power

`~~~~

Ace:

gambler who hits up a lot of cities

Is surprisingly good with swords in battle

“You can’t always rely on Lady Luck to get you out of a jam”

Outside of battle, not so much

Everyone is worried that he might hurt himself 

~~~~

Tapp: 

“everyone calls me tap”

mainly because he was in the earth kingdom army before joining the group; now they do it because there’s two Davids

was one of the few officials who were like: this dude is tiny and scared shitless, there’ s no way this is the same guy who slaughtered so many villages

turns out he was right

because the night they caught the group mayhem erupted in the neighboring village. he barely got back and freed them before the fire engulfed the entire forest.

technically, he’s a deserter of the army and is now a enemy to the earth kingdom and a criminal but he’s trying his best to ignore it.

~~~~

Kate:

Airbender

Light and bubbly

Just wants to bring peace and happiness to world

Often seen playing music to locals when they stop to rest  

Visits the air temples whenever possible

~~~~

Entity: 

part of the set of the two avatars

Real name is benedict

No one is to call him that unless they wish death

And god help anyone who tries to call him benny

Benny was dwight’s nickname for him

Was driven crazy by the lost of his twin

Blames himself

Blames bending in general

Goes on a rampage through the nations destroying anything in his path

~~~~

Dwight:

The surprise second avatar

Didn’t remember his last name when he came to on the beach; came up with one when he got tired of trying to explain his predicament  

Is confused and scared

In denial for the good chunk of the beginning of the journey

“W-what? Me? the Avatar?? Wow that’s rich David. L-look just because I can bend two elements doesn’t mean I’m the avatar.”

Is being hunted down by a lot of angry armies

“I DON’T KNOW WHY SO MANY PEOPLE HATE ME SUDDENLY! I’VE NEVER EVEN BEEN OUTSIDE THE FIRE KINGDOM!!”

Thankfully because the entity had been hidden from the world’s view ever since he began his training; very few outside of the armies fear him

But that also means that all the armies of the kingdoms have direct orders to kill anyone who fits his description 

“he probably doesn’t even look like me!”

they are identical 

Slowly starts to regain memories as they travel the land

May the gods help this poor boy

[aion-rsa]

Why Harvey Keitel’s Lansky Looks for Goodness in Bad Men

https://ift.tt/2U2hKkb

The biographical crime feature Lansky attempts to pull off a major heist: the historical legacy of the mob mastermind Meyer Lansky. One of the most notorious and infamous of the Jewish gangsters who rose during prohibition, Lansky was a businessman with a head for numbers. He was called “the Mob’s accountant,” and the film wants to set the record straight. Played by Harvey Keitel, we can count on an emotionally accurate portrayal of the man who helped set up the national crime syndicate.

John Magaro, who will be playing young Silvio Dante in the upcoming The Sopranos prequel, The Many Saints of Newark, plays young Meyer Lansky. Writer-director Eytan Rockaway’s crime drama is loosely based on the real-life story his father, Robert A. Rockaway, and the interviews he conducted before Lanksy died. His book was called But He Was Good to His Mother: The Lives and Crimes of Jewish Gangsters, and it included noteworthy figures like Waxey Gordon, Arthur “Dutch Schultz” Flegenheimer, Jack “Greasy Thumb” Guzlik and the Purple Gang out of Detroit.

Rockaway spoke with Den of Geek about those gangs and why Meyer Lansky’s life was the story which most needed to be told. He also explains why Lansky needed Harvey Keitel to tell it.

I appreciate the history behind Lansky, how much of your father’s encounter do you remember?

Eytan Rockaway: Well, I wasn’t born back then, but I did take his research and his transcripts and I interviewed my father at their meeting. The movie is mostly historically accurate, except for that part where my father was a down-on-his-luck reporter. And I did rely on his research and his transcripts, and he wrote a book about gangsters. Meyer Lansky was one of the dozens of big gangsters that he interviewed. I relied a lot actually on his feelings for Meyer Lanky just before he died when he was in his 80s.

The book was But He Was Good to His Mother. Which of the other Jewish mobsters in it  do you think would be most cinematic?

I think Bugsy Siegel, but they covered him in that great movie. I think that the Purple Gang are an interesting group. I think that Murder, Inc. in general is a very, very interesting group because most of the people who started at the Bugs and Meyer gang then transferred to Murder, Inc., and then they brought the Italians.

But I think the people in Murder, Inc. are definitely some of the toughest and some of the most notorious killers. I mean, the FBI said they killed between 500 to 1,000 people. They were vicious killers. They’re not great guys, but I think it would be an interesting story. But there are so many. Dutch Schultz and Lepke Buchalter and all of them had interesting lives. But Meyer Lansky, by far, I think, surpassed not only them, but most gangsters in American history, just because of what he managed to achieve and accomplish.

I’ve read books on Lasky and I was actually surprised at the arc of Lansky’s son, Buddy.

Well, he loved his son Buddy. Lansky put a lot of love and effort in him and he was very close to him. I tried emphasizing that relationship specifically because I thought that it showed, even when he was in his ruthless years as a criminal and doing all these bad things, he still had a soft spot, especially for family and it still was the most important thing to him. And I think, the relationship with his son that had all these issues, health issues, that I emphasized that.

One of the things your father’s book points out is that the Jewish mobsters were only one generation of the children of immigrants. Why didn’t it continue in generations, the way the Italian mobs did?

It’s a cultural thing. I think that a lot of these Jewish gangsters, because they came to America and they were second-class citizens and immigrants and had a tougher time, most of them were ashamed of that life. Because culturally, they just came from a different place and are being persecuted around the world. It’s a good question.

I think many historians and Jewish historians could answer that better. But in general, what is true is that there was always one generation when you had a gangster and he wanted his children to not to be part of that world and become a doctor or become a lawyer, but they never wanted their children to continue in their footsteps.

What was most fascinating about Lansky the man?

I think that he had two different sides of him. Most gangsters, there’s good, there’s bad. Lansky played on that thin gray line. He did a lot of bad things. He did a lot of good things. One thing was that he wasn’t notorious and people think that he was an accountant. He wasn’t. He started one of the most ruthless gangs in Manhattan back in the day with Ben Siegel. He was a gangster and he was a criminal, but he also was an academic.

He was great with mathematics, almost to the genius level. He was a great businessman. He structured the underworld with Lucky Luciano. He structured it like a Fortune 500 company. If he wasn’t born in the slums of New York, he would probably run a Fortune 500 company. At one time, he gloated they were bigger than U.S. Steel because he really, with the National Crime Syndicate, created one of the most powerful criminal organizations in the world at that time, aside from pioneering gambling. He’s one of the founders of gambling in general, not only in America.

Was your father ever contacted by the FBI?

No, but my father was the first civilian to get access to the secret FBI files. He was a very well-known professor and he covered gangsters and the underworld all his life. He was one of the first ones. He never was contacted by the FBI in that capacity, but he did work a lot with the FBI. The FBI was searching for Lansky until he died. They were looking for his money. They were trying to catch him. But that storyline was the fictionalized element, the reporter dealing with the FBI.

The film captures the Bund attack very accurately from what I read. What did you do to maintain the accuracy?

I really did what he actually did. I mean, he was a patriot. He hated Nazis. And in general, not only was he Jewish, but he was a very, very proud American and he did everything that he could, not only to squash the Nazi presence in America but also help in the war efforts. I touched on it. It was much more involved and there were dealings with the American government back then, because back then in World War II, the Germans were sending spies and the gangs of New York controlled the docks.

And he was still never given citizenship in Israel?

I suspect, and I allude to that in the movie, that because of his cooperation with the American government, maybe that’s why they couldn’t catch him or put him in jail. In Israel, they didn’t allow him to get in. He was the only Jew not to be allowed to enter Israel and that was a political move. And I guess that it hurt him very much. It was a very embarrassing moment in his life. I was trying to be as objective as I could in this movie. I didn’t want to portray him in necessarily a bad way or good way. I presented the moral conflicts that he had and then I want the audience to decide they’d like him, hate him, or both.

How did you maintain period accuracy? The clothes, the cars, in general?

I had an amazing production designer, April Lasky, and set decorator Laurel Belle, and they did an amazing job.

We shot in Alabama for a reason. We needed Miami in the 1980s and we needed New York in the 1930s and Alabama afforded us both, because it borders Florida beaches. We shot in Gulf Shores, which looks like Miami 30 or 40 years ago. And then we shot in Mobile and other places there that have buildings from the 1920s, ’30s, and ’40s that are untouched. It was a perfect location to shoot it, but it was excruciating.

Read more

Movies

Lansky: Harvey Keitel Gives a Gangster Legend a Subtle Farewell

By Tony Sokol

Culture

The Irishman: A Hitman’s Ring Explained

By Tony Sokol

We had to shoot this entire movie in 20 days and the scope of the movie, it’s like this epic movie. and we had to condense it. Twenty days shooting three different time periods with action sequences, I don’t recommend.

How did Harvey Keitel get involved in the project?

There was an actor, Danny Abeckaser, who plays the young FBI agent. He put me in contact with him. Harvey read the screenplay and liked it, but from the moment that he read the screenplay, three years passed. And we lived in New York in the same area a few blocks away. Once in a while, I used to see him in the street and I’m like, “Harvey, it’s the director of Lansky.” And after a year, he was like, “Oh, here we go again. That guy.” And eventually he’s like, “Who is this crazy director?”

And then eventually, at the end of the shoot, he gave me a book, because three years passed from the moment he signed on. “Hey, Lansky! We’re doing Lansky!” And he gave me a book about [Elia] Kazan. He wrote inside, “To my dear friend, Eytan. The only stalker I was ever happy that caught up to me.” Because he thought it was the stalker director.

Working with him was probably a privilege and one of the greatest experiences in my life. He’s such a great actor and he’s such a great human being. It was just phenomenal. I learned so much from him.

Does he come on to the set with his character fully formed or does he like being directed?

He very much enjoys it. He’s respectful. He’s the type of guy, he walked on set, before we started the shoot, he shook every single person’s hand from the caterer to the grips, every single person before we shot the first scene.

And he’s very, very, very open. The one thing that he won’t allow you to do is, because he’s a method actor, he said, “Don’t ever tell me what to feel. Give me an action.” Every actor likes to work differently, but he’s such a great method actor and has been head of the Actors Studio for two decades. You learn a lot working with somebody like him, but he’s such a good human being and we became good friends. I see him once a week now, because we had such a good time.

In my review, I say, “In the hierarchy of gangster movies, Keitel is Lansky.” Not just from the movies. He grew up in this, he joined the marines at 16. Does it correspond to your father working with Meyer?

When Harvey takes on a character, he makes it his own and precedes it. But the way that I wrote the screenplay was along the lines of the way my father perceived Lansky. But again, my father, I don’t think was as objective as I am because he met Lansky when he was 82 years old, this aging gangster, and Lansky reminded him of my grandfather. So, he wasn’t completely objective. But I think that the way that my father meant, and what he perceived from him when he was older, is pretty accurate.

Now the young Lansky, that’s a whole different story. He was a different human being when he was in his 20s, 30s, and 40s. But I think everyone, when they get older, they start acting differently, looking at life differently. And I think that I was true to the way my father perceived him at an old age.

I remember my father told me a funny story. When Meyer Lansky set up a meeting with him, he was at my grandmother’s house and she got a call and he’s sitting, eating breakfast. My grandmother is older and she gets a call and she picks up the phone and she goes, “Hi, who is it?” And he said, “I’d like to speak with Robert Rockaway.” And she asked him, “Who is this?” And he says, “Meyer Lansky.” And she got scared, so she takes the phone and puts her hand on it and she goes to my father, “It’s Meyer Lansky.”

He was like, “Why are you whispering?” Back then, Meyer Lansky was such a scary individual for most people and she was terrified. And for my father, he was an 82-year-old, 81-year-old guy that he was wanting to interview.

What movies were you watching? Because I saw a nod to Miller’s Crossing and a few other movies.

I’m amazed that you got that. Miller’s Crossing was definitely one of the greatest inspirations for this movie, including that forest scene. The problem was, I had to shoot it in 20 days. Me and the DP had this whole visual feast of things that we wanted to do. But when you go on set, you have 15 or 20 setups, the assistant director says to you, “Listen, you have two or three.” So every morning, you wake up to throw your shot list in the garbage and you improvise. And luckily, I come from the independent world and when you have your back to the wall, we did it.

But I did try Miller’s Crossing, some other classics, but I did try also giving it a modern feel to it. So everything in the 1980s, I tried shooting classically to represent his slow-paced life and everything in the 1930s and forties, I tried as much as I could to give it kind of like this modern feel, handheld cameras when I could and stuff. And then the same thing with the coloring and also the music. If you notice, the  electronic synthesizer score mixed with classical to give it that modern 1980s feel throughout.

Where do you see the gangster genre going?

I can tell you I love the genre. People like gangster movies, these mythical characters, these dangerous, adventurous lives. And they did a lot of good and bad. They had their own rules of conduct, and I think that’s what most people like about them.

I think there’s a great market and I really hope they put some money behind it and do some other big movies with historical figures that have depth in it. And it’s not about just killing people and shooting people, but there is depth. That’s what I tried doing with this movie. Show a man when he was young and a man when he was older. The aging Meyer Lansky is about a man dealing with his morality and the perception of his life, and the reporter learning what’s important.

Your last film, The Abandoned, was horror. Do you think we love gangster and horror movies because it gives us an excuse to root for the monsters, even in the old movies where we knew they had to die?

I think that’s a pretty good, accurate statement, to be honest. I think that it throws us into a world that we’re not used to. It’s almost like a rollercoaster. You’re on something scary and then it lands safe. And I think, especially horror these days, a lot of it is so elevated and there are so many things that you can get from it. Because life is not about black and white, good and bad. There’s a thin gray line between the two and I think gangster movies and horror movies can help kind of emphasize that.

A lot of people painted The Irishman as the swan song for gangster movies. Scorsese spoke about toxic masculinity and atonement. Do you think that that changes how gangsters will be portrayed moving forward?

I don’t think so. I think every filmmaker has his own take on gangster movies, his own messages. And also, it comes down to the person that you’re making the movie about. For me, Meyer Lansky wasn’t about that thing. It was completely different.

I think Scorsese has his storyline and he’s the greatest, I think, when it comes to the crime genre, but he has his story and he has his own evolution as an artist. I don’t know if I’ll do another gangster movie, but I’m sure that other filmmakers that come on board will bring a new take into it and their own different perceptions and stories and thoughts on it.

You have two completely different types of violence in this film, mob violence and domestic violence. Can you tell me about the difference in preparing to capture those?

Well, mob violence, at least in this movie, was mostly justified. So it was kind of fun. Domestic violence is a hard scene, it wasn’t fun and it’s not called for in any shape or form. Luckily, AnnaSophia Robb was just such an amazing actress, and John as well. They were just both amazing. And I just gave them the freedom to explore it in their own way.

When you shoot something like that, just like shooting other intimate scenes, you just let the actors, and especially if they’re great actors, do their thing and you give them the space. But for me, it was definitely harder.

Shooting the Nazi Bund scene, for instance. I am an Israeli Jew and suddenly I’m in the middle of Alabama with a hundred extras and this swastika sign. I remember walking into the room and then seeing that sign, it first gave me a kind of like that feeling. But when we started shooting, I made it my own. Suddenly it diminished. I remember a lot of these extras were just people that we picked up. When they had to do Heil Hitler and all of that, they were very ashamed. And I’m like the Israeli Jewish director on the stage: “You have to say Heil Hitler better.”

Those scenes were fun because it had a purpose for me and it was justified. Doing the domestic violence scene in the relationship with his wife, that was much harder, but that’s where the great acting comes in and you let the great actors do their thing.

How did you consciously approach the film to make it different from other gangster movies?

To be honest with you, I tried keeping it a bit lighthearted. The murder scene of Maranzano, I just wanted to show how Ben Siegel enjoyed killing people, which he did. When I was directing David Cade, I was telling him, “Look in his eye, I want it to show that he’s enjoying not only killing, but he also was enjoying killing a traitor.” But I tried, when I could, kind of leaving it lighthearted at one point.

I really enjoyed Magaro and Cade’s  scenes together. They seemed to have a lot of fun. Was it a sociable set?

It was a sociable set, at least for them. When they weren’t shooting, they got to hang out and have fun. I was working 17, 18-hour days just getting the days done. The set, especially in the 1930s and ’40s, all of those scenes, it was a fun set. It was definitely much different when we were shooting in Miami with Sam and Harvey. It was much more serious. But when you have a younger cast and they’re having fun and everybody’s dressing up as gangsters and stuff and John and David had this connection because they were hanging out in the hotel so much and just drinking and having fun while I was working, I think that came on screen and you could see that they had a really great connection and chemistry in general.

Magaro is going to be playing Silvio Dante in The Sopranos prequel movie.

He’s a great actor. He is phenomenal. I mean, you see him and he looks one way and then he goes on set and you see that click. And you’re like, “Who the hell is that?”

A lot of the film runs like a documentary. Obviously, some of that is because of the budget, but did you have an eye towards true crime shows?

Yeah, when we finished shooting the movie, I had to cut 15 to 20 pages of the screenplay just because we didn’t have time to shoot, but they had so much information. I know that people are going to look at this movie and say, “You can make five movies about Meyer Lansky. It can be a miniseries.” There’s so much to cover. So, what I tried doing is finding the key moments in his life that I thought were important to at least understand and get a picture of who that man was.

Because I had to cut out so many scenes, we had to be creative in the editing room and I added a bunch of voiceovers to fill in the blanks. I wanted people to get a clear picture of how things happened. What was the history? What were the key moments? Scenes that I couldn’t shoot, I did with voiceover. So yeah, I tried playing with both. I think we achieved it and I think people will get a good picture of not only the organization, not only his rise to power, but also who he was at an old age and a young age and everything around it.

At one point in the movie, Lansky says, “I’m an angel with a dirty face.” And that’s almost the title of one of my favorite movies. What are some of your favorite gangster movies?

Well, I mean, Miller’s Crossing. The Godfather. There are just so many, but I think the one that really stayed with me the most was, for some reason, Miller’s Crossing. I don’t know. There was something about that movie that just stuck with me. And by the way, that line, “Angel with a dirty face,” that was Harvey’s idea. And he said, when he was in New York, gangsters used to say that to him, when he met a few of them.

And he said, “Meyer Lansky probably would have watched that movie and probably would have said that because I had other gangsters that I met in New York back in the day that said that line to me, because back then it was a famous movie.” So that’s Mr. Keitel and his improvisation at its best.

Lansky hits select theaters and will be available on demand on June 25.

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The post Why Harvey Keitel’s Lansky Looks for Goodness in Bad Men appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[firenationskydominion]

Chapter 2: The Analysis of Ozai

Prisoner Ozai has been moved to a modern house on a distant volcano island, which is not known on Firenation maps as it’s in another dimension. A force field limits exiting the perimeter around the house. Another force field restricts the movements of the prisoner: he can be touched but when he shows aggression the field stuns. The house has advanced electronics to monitor all rooms.

  Ozai wakes in the morning, surprised to find himself in a comfy bed in silk sheets instead of his prison cell. He hears beautiful music and birds singing. It’s warm. He thinks: I must be dead, but not reborn. I feel alive, but this is too nice to be hell. A faint beep is heard regularly. It stops when he opens his eyes. He sees a white ceiling, he’s in a wooden bed. Drapes are drawn on one side of the room and a blinking white machine stands beside his bed. A shadow vanishes under the bed. His reflexes kick in. He jumps out of the bed and looks below it. Two blue eyes look back at him. A small animal with blue eyes, a long tail, cream colored with brown paws and snout looks at him. Like a batcat without wings, he thinks. The animal approaches and vocalizes something, then it runs off.

  He gets out of his bed and looks at his worn but toned body. He looks into the mirror. He has aged, but he trained in his cell. He is naked and follows the lights on the floor to another room. He remembers entering the pod and then having faded out. And a kiss. He is aroused but feels horribly sick at the same time.

  He is startled by a voice coming from a round sphere rolling around on the floor. A digital assistant who greets and welcomes him, shows him the bathroom, his wardrobe and the rooms amenities. Ozai is shocked by the advanced technology and confused, but happy to be free and able to clean up and put on proper Firenation clothing.

Please follow me the sphere says and leads him to a darkened room with a screen in the front. The sphere bids him to sit down and watch. A curtain opens up on the screen and the Fire nation throne room comes up.

  Courtroom

  Present Firelord Zuko, Avatar Aang, Judge Kanto, Jury members, Timelord Mya in the defense of former Firelord Ozai.

  JK:       You, Timelord Mya have come forward to demand an inquest into former Firelord Ozais imprisonment. Mya Timelord, would you like to give your opening statement?

  M:        Firelord Zuko, Avatar Aang, Judge Kanto, dear Jury. I have asked you to join me today to offer you a request. I am a time lord. Whenever I see an imbalance in the time space continuum I come and intervene. In this case I saw that the imprisonment of Ozai will lead to a spiral of violence which will plague your world for centuries and which will ultimately lead to the destruction of your civilization. Furthermore there are legal issues with his imprisonment which I want to elaborate in this court. This is why I have made the decision to intervene. I have a proposition for you. Hand Ozai over to me, as a prisoner. I will remove him from your world for the time being until he is reformed.

  JK:       In order to judge on your request we need witness accounts. Do you have witnesses?

  M:        Honourable Judge, I would like to call in Avatar Aang as witness.

JK:       Calling in Avatar Aang.

M:        Avatar Aang, was Ozai the first Firelord to pursue you?

A:         No, Azulon started the quest.

M:        Did Ozai start the Hundred Year war?

Aang:   No. Sozin started the war. It was then continued with great advances by Azulon and then Ozai took over.

M:        So did Ozai kill all the airbenders and the water tribes?

Aang:   No Azulon and Sozin did.

M:        Was Ozai involved in any military offensives before he took over the reins three years ago?

Aang:   No, Iroh led the offensive and siege on Ba Sing Se.

M:        So we can only judge three years in which Ozai took over from his father and brother?

Aang:   Yes, that’s right.

M:        Do you agree that Ozai was not involved in any of the crimes committed by other family members before his reign?

Aang:   ....Yes.

M:        How about the outer rim of Firenation and the colonies. Is there any cultural exchange or economic exchange between the colonies and the Fire Nation?

Aang:   Yes, a few of the cities have really grown in the colonies and are thriving.

M:        So I formally object that we blame Ozai for any failings, which were done by any other Firelord and also acknowledge that apart from his later continuation of the ongoing offensive on Ba Sing Se, his main objective was to increase trade exchange.

JK:       Objection approved.

M:        Then let's see. Ozai planned to scorch the Earth nation, but was defeated by you before he managed to do that.

A:         Yes, that's true.

M:        Crazy guy, wanting to burn a whole country down, isn't it? Like someone on a rage spree burning down his neighbours house. If he had been a farmer, we'd call him mad for burning down his neighbours crops and give him therapy, maybe lock him up in a mental institution. But it’s his bad luck that he's the Firelord and a powerful fire bending master under the magnifying force of a comet. He clearly had a manic meltdown. So we lock him up in a cold cell without daylight. Do you think opportunity facilitated the crime in this case?

A:         I guess so.

JK:       No assumptions, please.

M:        Fine, my angle here is that we are blaming Ozai for an opportunity he only had because he was pushed into that position. He is manic-depressive. The pressure of the siege led him to experience a manic episode. If we judge him, we must also judge the fire sages and all noble people of the Fire Nation who expected him to do something outrageous, to make his mark as the second born pretty boy son. They nurtured and fed his manic state of mind. But this is not a trial of fire nation society, but of one man. Not a monster, not a demon, just one guy who went on a crazy rampage burning everything because for one moment during Sozins comet he could. A man, who had nothing to his name - except being the second born prince. Who spent his youth not chasing girls but training firebending on Ember island and training his abs. Who - without experience or any formal military role - became the Firelord. A man with a troubled family. A guy who perfected his skills of firebending. The only thing that was left to him after his wife left. A craft, which you ultimately took from him.

A:         Yes I did.

M:        Firebenders need sunlight. If you lock an earthbender or a waterbender into a cellar, he will still be exposed to his elements several times a day. But a firebender in a cold hole below earth is particularly cruel. He can’t bend fire, but denying him sunlight is torture.

A:         ....

M:        So why do you all fear him so much still? You have taken all he had. Let me deal with the rest. All I ask from you is to leave him to me. I will take him to another dimension where we will work on his issues. The chances of progress are far better there than here. Furthermore, he won't be able to contact any of his former allies. He’ll be safely locked away.

  As second witness I call in Fire Lord Zuko:

  M:        Firelord, you're the son of Ozai. I understand the pain he has brought on you, like all of us will. But tell me, when you were little, were things different then?

Z:         Well, I suppose yes. I remember him as my father. He was always very strict but we also had good times on Ember island on the beach.

M:        When did things go sour?

Z:         When Lu Ten fell in the war and my father was suddenly pressured by many noble people of the Firenation to become Firelord.

M:        How do you mean pressured?

Z:                     They had all lost family and General Irohs reaction - although very understandable - enraged many of the families who had pulled through similar tragedies.

M:        Was your father used to this kind of pressure?

Z:         No, I don't think so.

M:        Did he have any military role or training?

Z:         No, he was a master firebender and was more into expanding that craft. He wanted to be the best and do new innovative stuff.

M:        So we have a man who is pushed to a spot, where he has no experience and where his hunger for power ultimately backfired. And he paid a big price for his inquest, didn't he.

Z:         Yes, my grandfather, FireLord Azulon asked him to kill me.

M:        And yet you are alive!

Z:         Yes, my mother found a way to deal with Azulon and went to exile for that.

M:        Did you know that your mother had married Ozai on an arranged marriage?

Z:         Yes, but on amicable terms.

M:        Did you know that she was engaged before and who kept up that relationship even after she became Firelord Ozai's wife?

Z:         !!!!!

M:        I am sorry to bring this up. But this was the moment when things went sour for Ozai. She told your father that her former fiancé was your father, but Ozai knew that she was lying. She did it to hurt him. He in turn promised her to treat you like a bastard son, so that you would turn out different than him. He loves her still and he loves you, in a twisted way. This culminated in your scorched face and your exile to get you away from him. He still loves your mother, Firelord. And all he does is a futile attempt to get her back.

Z:         No, this can't all be true!!

M:        I am the Timelord, I see it clearly. I can play it to you, but I want to spare you the pain. Ozai is a conflicted man, full of doubts and a volatile self-esteem, who easily falters under extreme pressure. He is manic-depressive. The loss of his wife tossed him into a manic-depressive cycle. The phoenix king is his manic side. He was left by all women in his life. His mother died young, his beloved wife played him and does so still now. Locking him up is not going to produce any betterment or results.

  JK:       I want to see if there is any base to your accusations. We will retreat to the private chamber and adjourn this session in 20 Minutes.

  Twenty minutes later back in the courtroom.

  JK:       I am reopening the session after the break. The accusations of Mya Timelord were accurate. I am sorry, Firelord Zuko.

Z:         This cannot be....

M:        Things are not always the way they look on the surface. Overcome your own hunger for revenge and take an unbiased view on Ozai.

M:        As third witness I want to call in the brother of the accused, Retired General Iroh.

JK:       Calling in Retired General Iroh of the Fire Nation.

  M:        General Iroh, you fought for years for the Fire Nation?

I:          Yes...

M:        In that function you were responsible for directly slaying hundreds of people during the war. Yet you changed sides after your own son died. It took a personal hit to make you fall, the fate of others never left you unhinged.

I:          It was a bloody war on all sides...

M:        Yet, If you had not gone travelling in those lands during exile, but stayed in FireNation, do you think you would be this amicable towards the other cultures of this world?

I:          No, I don't think I would.

M:        So why do you think that Ozai, who in fact has never left FireNation but was brainwashed by all his family to hate and look down on anything other, should be lenient? He is a product of his upbringing and of his surroundings. Do you think that he might have changed if you had become Firelord and he had gone to exile instead?

I:          (ponders... ) I don't know. He is very strong willed, power hungry, ambitious and has a loose temper. But he might very well have.

M:        So in deed, we have someone who never really had the opportunity to learn other views, who is blinded by his convictions, who has manic episodes and we lock him up in a cell where he simmers in his own soup of prejudice, depression and misanthropy. And we call that progress...?

I: ...

  Zuko:    We cannot let him go like this. Not after all that he did!

M:        We are better than him, aren't we? And dont' forget. He will not be free. He will be in a maximum security facility in another dimension, with me. He will have access to daylight. He will have no contact to other people unless it's in alignment with his parole regulations. So are we better than Firelord Ozai?

Aang:   I guess so. In order to create balance we must adjust the scale. Punishment is not productive, I agree on that.

M:        A dictator is the sum of function inducing fear, appearance and power. You have taken away the function, the fear and the power, what left is just the guy. Let me deal with the guy. You can then focus on rebuilding this world without his shadow. Let his shadow be my problem.

  JK:       The Jury will now retreat to consult with the Firelord and the avatar.

  They left to consult behind closed doors.

  JK:       We are concluding our session with my closing statement and verdict. The jury together with the Firelord and the Avatar have listened to all objections and inquests of Mya the Timelord. After weighing in the testimonies and the evidence we comply with Timelord Mya's request, under the condition that we get weekly progress reports on the developments and any change of his parole regulations are defined by this panel. The jury will drink the potion of lost thoughts and will forget all said today. I herewith sign the sentence.

  Mya approached the Judge and scanned the sentence with a blue stone.

  The film ends and Ozai is utterly confused. What is a time lord? Why Timelord and not Timelady? And why does she take such a great interest in him? He feels exposed and vulnerable. He hates that feeling. He almost wishes to be back in his cell. He sits there clenching his fists, trying to control the anger. Who is she to drag his life into the open like this and his feelings for Ursa, his rage, his sadness, his will to outshine his misery? At least the jury is not going to spill the beans to the public. He gets up, angry and looking for answers.

  The sphere offers to show him the house. Ozai follows. The house is modern with wood set in nature. Exotic plants and birds are outside the windows. The sphere takes him through a long corridor to a large living room with a high fireplace and gallery on top lining the room. He imagines the magnificent fire and instinctively poses his hand to ignite. Then he remembers his loss of firebending. The room is decorated with antique Asian and Polynesian artworks. Many dragons, which remind him of home. Wherever he walks the beautiful music follows him. The room smells of jasmine and sandalwood. Two beautiful blue-eyed cats are roaming around and a crow watches him attentively from the gallery. On one side, he sees a door to a dining room and another one to a vast library. He goes into the library and sees that most books are not in Kanji. On the mantle are little pictures of Mya and others in silver frames.

  The dining room is empty, but a fruit bowl makes him realize that he’s no longer sick and how hungry he is, so he grabs an apple. The other fruit look unknown to him. He leaves back for the living room which has a french window to the terrace.

  Ozai is met on the terrace in front of a infinity pool by Mya. She is wearing a sheer blue and green gown over a bikini. She has flowers in her hair. He gets hard immediately seeing her like that.

  M:        Welcome to the island, Ozai. Thank you for being my guest.

O:        I saw that ridiculous trial. I did not think that you despise me that much... dragging my life out like that. I thought you‘d fight honourably.

M:        I don’t despise you, I am trying my best to understand you. I wanted you out, I got you out. Sometimes a good result requires bad methods. I am not an angel. I wanted you to see it. No secrets, full transparency.

O:        So what is this all about? What am I doing here?

M:        We are here to work on your issues. I did not mean to hurt you. I am sorry.

O:        So you think I am a crazy man?

M:        You’re an overambitious man who did bet on the wrong horse. You took a plausible path, albeit not the most ... humanitarian one. We have opposing views on a few things. But we can work together.

O:        Tell me, what am I doing here? Am I your slave? Who are you to distort my life like this.

M:        Your story, dear Ozai, does not end in a dim prison cell. You still have a big role to play - a role which will dwarf being the Phoenix king- and to redeem yourself. I will guide you on your journey.

O:        I am leaving...

M:        Make no mistake, my love, you are still a prisoner. But in a more agreeable jail. If you try to run a force field will contain you. Same for violence. But you are free to move about in and around the house, if you follow my instructions. Our conversation is recorded for further parole hearings. So consider well, if you prefer the cold dark cell.

  Ozai seems to be mad, but then he closes his eyes. When he opens them he’s much calmer. He looks around, sees the vastness of the sea, the mountain rising at the other horizon, the surrounding exotic jungle. His spirits rise. He smiles. There are flocks of birds flying over the sea and the scent of flowers is in the air. And the sun is shining full force. He takes off his cloak, stands in the sunlight, showing off his abs, with his eyes closed and fuels in on the sunlight.

  M:        Are you enjoying the sun?

O:        Yes, I feel the sun on my skin! Finally! I feel much stronger. Much more alive.

M:        I am glad to hear that.

O:        You call me a madman and yet you kissed me...

M:        You looked very... kissable. You’re interesting. I am not afraid of you, although maybe I should be.

O:        How did I get here?

M:        Sorry, I had to sedate you for transport for this location. You‘re not supposed to know where you are.

O:        We are not in Fire Nation territory?

M:        No, we’re not. I’ll tell you more in due time. Let‘s just soak in the sun, shall we?

  Both lie in the sun on loungers in silence for a while.

  M:        Do you ever get sunburnt?

O:        Never...

M:        We should record a session for your dear son.

O:        Spare me with requests from my son. I don‘t want to think about him now. I want to feel alive again. I want to look at the sea, at the sky, the sun and at you! I want to feel the energy and feel alive from core to shell.

M:        You look quite alive to me. Alive enough to answer my questions.

  Ozai felt a short tight squeeze on his chest from the force field. He gasped for air, looked at Mya in anger and then complied.

  Session 4:

  M:        What would you do at home on such a lovely day?

O:        We were at war. I did not have the luxury to enjoy sunny days.

M:        Before you became Fire Lord?

O:        Training outdoors, firebending and Agni Kai against other firebenders. Family. Maybe Ember island.

M:        And as Fire Lord? How did a typical day look?

O:        I was woken by a servant, prepped and dressed. Then I had breakfast, sometimes with my generals or my daughter. Then strategic meetings. In the evening I’d meet with influential families to gain their support for the war.

M:        How did you relax?

O:        ???

M:        You’re so intense, there must be a way in which you let off steam... Making love to beautiful girls and/or boys?

O:        I won’t answer that (embarrassed)

M:        You cannot just pile on without letting off some steam...

O:        Fire bending... training forms... Agni Kai...probably.

M:        Now without your bending powers you must be quite stressed out.

O:        I meditate.

M:        Do you achieve balance?

O:        I feel the rage.

M:        Too much energy?

O:        I don’t like being confined. I was now confined for two years.

M:        Let’s try something. Follow me. Sit down to meditate. Don’t be afraid, it’s nothing to be worried about.

So, are you calm and relaxed?

O:        I can’t relax.

M:        Give me your hands. We will make a journey in your mind.

O:        No, thank you. I have no intention to. Last time it left me shattered when I woke up and had to face the grim reality of my prison cell.

M:        Fair enough, then let’s just sit together and enjoy the sun, enjoy being alive and have some good tea.

O:        Where is the tea?

M:        Would you like some? I have some exquisite Gyokuro tea...worthy for a celebration on your first day with me.

  Mya goes, gets the kettle, sets up tea in a tiny Japanese tea set. Ozai watches her and is feeling very hot. But he also feels that he‘s restricted by the force field, which creates an invisible pulsating cage around him.

  M:        Your tea, Lord Ozai.

O:        Now I feel alive.

  We drink tea silently. Awkward silence. He looks relaxed and musters something akin to a smile. I feel like kissing him, but I restrain myself.

  Then I pour him a cherry blossom tea. He closes his eyes and enjoys the smell. When he opens his eyes I see desire in them.

  He slowly drinks tea and watches me with his sly ember eyes, like a fox eyeing his prey. His hands reach forward to touch my breasts. He is surprised that there is no stun. I move towards him and whisper in his ears that I’ve stopped the tape and his cage. His arms grab me and we kiss. He drags me to his bed. He undresses me slowly until I am naked. His lips and tongue are on my neck. I feel his breath on my skin. I feel his tongue in my mouth, the heat from his body. The smell of his body. I feel his possessiveness and the frenzy of a madman, the fire and the danger. I taste the salty taste of his sweaty skin. We make love and I enjoy every bit of him until I lose myself. When he did he had gripped the mattress of the lounger, which was now scorched.

  O:        This feels so good, you feel so good, I have been waiting for this for so long...

  He smelled the burnt linen and opened his eyes.

  O:        Did I do this?

  He looked at the lounger incredulously.

  M:        Remember, Aang said you can‘t bend fire to harm others. So if you find a new approach to firebending, your powers might come back. Sex might be a first clue. We might call it Firefucking or maybe fuckbending?

O:        Then let‘s fuckbend ten times a day... he whispered and grinned ear to ear. For the first time since I knew him, he seemed happy.

  He was exhausted and I covered us up with a blanket. I took a shower and then I jumped into the pool and he followed me.

  O:        the water is warm!

M:        Yes, I know you folk don‘t like cold water.

He pinned me against the edge and kissed me. He looked tired.

I was getting aroused again, but I worried about him, so I got out.

  M:        Prison surely strained you. We’ll do a health check to see if you have any imbalances.

O:        What health check?

M:        Heart, BP, Blood, the usual.

  We went to the medical bay.

  M:        Are you cold. You look queasy.

O:        I am not used to stand around like this, exposed in front of a pretty woman.

M:        We’re not being naughty now, sorry. O: My dick thinks otherwise.

M:        Don’t worry, the check will be over soon and then we can continue our fuckbending research.

  Does medical check.

  M:        Your body has suffered in jail, but we can patch you up.

  Moves to desk, mixes a protein drink.

  M:        Drink this, it will help you recover your strength. You’ll need all of it for our journey.

O:        Is the journey spiritual or are we really going away? I am starting to like it here.

M:        For the time being we’re here, but our time together is a journey.

  We went to the dining room, both hungry like wolves. The sphere had already served different dishes. I was amused to see that Ozai put huge amounts of hot sauce on everything.

  After dinner I pulled him into his bedroom. I kissed him and he took me slowly from behind.

  I lay in his arms and he caressed my face.

O:        You‘re such a strange girl...

M:        No one called me a girl since ages...

O:        Why did you really save me?

M:        You‘re too hot to rot in jail... and then as I said, the world is in turmoil and I need your help. I‘ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

We went to bed and he fell asleep at once.

  Ozai woke up, me in his arms.

O:        You‘re still here.

M:        Yes, I have been watching you sleep.

O:        Why would you do that?

M:        In sleep we are unmasked. I see your pain, your fear of abandonment. You still love her, don‘t you?

O:        Did I say her name in my dreams?

M:        ... She hurt you, left you, married another guy she was dating behind your back. And yet, you love her still. You‘re a good guy, Ozai.

O:        (laughing) No one ever called me that before!

M:        It‘s true. You‘re hurting. Your whole self esteem came crashing down when she ditched you for a farmer. I feel your sadness.

I kissed his head

M:        I mean it. You‘re so loyal, that it breaks you. You got played and everyone needs to suffer because you can‘t punish those who have hurt and abandoned you.

O:        Whenever I see my kids, I see her.

M:        And in her you see your loving mother who also left you so early. You‘re haunted, you need to let go, move on, build a new life. All the violence in the world will not turn the clock back. I know you feel like destroying everything, but it’s not a solution. We’ll fix your broken heart and your complicated life. We‘ll work on it, here.

O:        Is that the journey?

M:        Part of it. Remember: you now have the freedom to just be Ozai, without the Firelord burden. People here will like you for who you are, not what crown you wear. You don‘t have to induce fear to be loved and respected.

O:        Can you bend time? Make all this go away.

M:        I so much wish I could. Doesn’t work that way, sorry.

I hugged him and whispered that I’d stay by his side.

O:        Until you leave me too.

M:        No, my love, you will leave me eventually, but I will always remember and preserve you in my heart.

Ozai closed his eyes. Then he suddenly grabbed and hugged me, held me and kissed my head, then my lips.

  O:        Mya, you’re a gift from the gods!

M:        Ozai, some people consider me a God.

O:        Oh, I just fucked a goddess, my goddess of fuckbending.

  Mya left to shower and to get dressed. Ozai let the hot water pour over his body. When he got dressed, Mya was already gone. Ozai went out to find her.

  He stood in the living room and saw Mya on the terrace. She was sitting at a table. The cats, a black squirrel and the crow were listening to her attentively. Then he noticed that all the shrubs around her were full of songbirds. The ground was full of spiders. She let the crow fly, it let out a craw and was answered by a thousandfold other crow voices. The cats and squirrel ran, so did the wave of spiders. All songbirds flew out and darkened the sun for a brief moment, before they also flew away.

  She turned around.

M:        Ozai, you are here.

O:        What was this?

M:        My messengers flew out. I need to know about the state of the worlds.

  Mya smiled and approached him. Ozai felt uneasy. This was a type of magic that he had never seen in his world. He was weary of women with mystic powers, he had been burnt once already...

  M:        We have had two wonderful days, but now it is time to get to work.

O:        What are you talking about?

M:        I have to hand in a report with your progress and we need to make quick strides. Follow me!

  Mya led Ozai through the garden downhill over stone steps. At the bottom of the path they reached a road and next to it was an arena with stone figures.

M:        This is the place where we will rediscover your firebending - without carnal pleasures. You can train here.

O:        But my bending is gone.

M:        We will see. I want you to be ready to use your craft when your bending powers return. I can also show you some new tricks. Clench a fist, yes, but stronger. Don’t let go!

  Mya pointed with one finger and then hit his nerve superfast. His fist sprang open involuntarily.

O:        Aah! What was that?!?

M:        Speed, element of surprise and detailed knowledge of human anatomy.

O:        My hand is still sore!

M:        I use this if my opponent has a dagger.

O:        Honourable warriors don’t fight like this.

M:        Not all foes have honour.

O:        ...

M:        Show me some forms, I want to learn.

  Mya and Ozai spent the day practicing forms. As a Timelord Mya had the unique talent to empathize so greatly with people that she would literally replicate them and their abilities. Ozai was a great firebending teacher and more patient than Mya would have expected. After an hour Ozais hands started to smoke and a small flame showed. He was very excited.

  O:        My power is returning! But, how?

M:        You are using firebending for altruistic reasons: you are teaching and helping me. And you’re a motivated teacher. As the Avatar said: to not use it for evil purposes or against others.

  After hours passed, Mya had also managed to produce some smoke and Ozai left again for the house.

  In the evening Mya wrote her first report.

 Report 1: Week 1

This is an account of prisoner Ozais progress.

  Ozai is a deeply conflicted person who has detachment issues and who resorts to rash decisions when under extreme internal or external pressure. He has a manic-depressive disorder. In his manic episodes, he shows megalomaniac tendencies, while his depressive side is more subdued. In those episodes, he tends to make self-harming decisions.

  Without the shell of his function as Firelord there are traces of kindness. His empathy needs cultivation.

We have these points, which I want to stress in him:

Detachment and inner balance

Cultivation of empathy

Balance

Coping with stressors to avoid triggers

Developing maturity

Sense of self

Responsible decision-making

 The same evening, cozied up in his arms in front of the fireplace, we also recorded another session:

 Session 5:

 M:        So, we’re back on tape. Ozai, how are you?

O:        Fine. I feel good.

M:        Zuko was worried about your dignity. All intact?

O:        You showed me that nasty trick and my hand feels dead... other than that all dignified and good.

M:        Anything you want to say?

O:        I wish that you could also talk to Azula, but I worry for your safety if you did.

M:        With her I would take on another approach, not one that might remind her of her mother.

O:        I tried my best when they were small, but being a father and a firelord at war, it is hard not to confuse both roles. One gets used to ... violence.

M:        Everything was meant to fail from the beginning. And all parents fail their kids. They’re both alive and fierce.

O:        Zuko hates me. I am concerned about Azula. My wife... I should have protected Azula from her scheming. I was totally focused on myself, Firenation and the siege on Ba Sing Se.

M:        Are you convinced that Zuko hates you? Does it make you sad?

O:        Sad?...

M:        He‘s the one pestering me about your dignity and your wellbeing...

O:        ... I wasn‘t aware of that. It pleases me to hear that. But that boy is just too soft to stand the hardships of being a Firelord. All those Agni Kais I had to fight against usurping generals to strengthen my position. Some of which I had considered personal friends! All those hours I had to learn tactics, strategy, negotiation skills... only to find out that sometimes brute force was the only viable solution. He hasn’t fought or learnt one of these lessons. His days are numbered.

M:        Here, a jasmine tea flower. Let me pour you a cup. Close your eyes, feel it.

O:        A symbol of love?

M:        Of love and redemption.

O:        I guess I could use both...

M:        You can get love from me, redemption is yours to make.

 Ozai was tired after the recording. I sat next to him and took his hand.

 M:        Things will improve.

O:        There are still people who consider me the real god given Firelord. Zuko should have killed me to take the throne.

M:        He cares too much about you to do that. Do you still want to be Firelord?

O:        More than anything else.

 I caressed his face, those beautiful warm coloured but cold eyes. He closed them. Was he yet revealing too much? He seemed sad. We sat next to each other for a while. Then he looked at me, got up and left. I found him in his room. As I wanted to enter, he bid me to leave.

O:        I am your prisoner. I want to be alone. Give me some privacy to meditate.

M:        Of course.

 I retreated.

 He sat down to meditate, but he could not concentrate. He had to think about her all the time. He was falling for her and he did not like much of what she said, although it felt true. He missed her touch, her voice, her body... he thought about her all the time. He was falling in love. His heart was on fire.

[womenandfilm5]

For my Interventions report, the films I watched the following films: A House Divided by Alice Guy-Blache, 1913), Three Films by Alice Guy-Blache which included Falling Leaves (1912), Mabel’s Blunder (Mabel Normand, 1914), The Curse of Quon Gwon (Marion E Wong, 1917) and The Ocean Waif (Alice Guy-Blache, 1916)  [Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers, on Netflix streaming]. . I will begin with The Curse of Quon Gwon: When The East Mingles with the West by Marion E Wong. Wong was a Chinese-American director, costume designer and president of her own film company called Mandarin films which is credited with being the first Asian-American film company in the United States. Wong lived and worked in Oakland, California. The Curse of Quon Gwon was the first and only film shot for Mandarin films and is known as the first film by a Chinese-American film company to feature an all Chinese -American cast. Wong stars in the film as it’s villain and her real-life sister in-law Violet Wong played the lead actress. Other family members were included in the film such as Wong’s mother. It was also financed by a family member who was Wong’s uncle. . As the title suggests, the film is about what happens when the East which is China in this case meets with the West which is America in this case. It is a silent black and white film The story is told through a Chinese -American newlywed couple. On the day of their wedding, Violet Wong’s character is expected to do her hair in a more elaborate way than she usually does, and the closeup of her in the mirror looking at herself while her hair is done by a maid or helper shows that she doesn’t want to change her hair. On the same day of the wedding, Violet Wong and her husband (played by Harvey Soo Hoo) receive a wedding gift of what appears to be an idol, but is later found to be the curse of Quon Gwon. . While living with her new family, Violet Wong is constantly abused by her mother and sister in law. There is an element of foreshadowing to abuse in an earlier scene when Violet falls asleep and dreams that she is in chains. The chains could symbolize her loss of freedom in her new family. . When Violet bears a child, her mother and sister in-laws treatment of her worsens. They want to take her child away and give her a knife, presumably so that she can commit suicide. Violet begs her in-laws for mercy, and there is a closeup of her face with a type of halo around it to emphasize her desperation. Fade in and fade out is also used to show scenes that have ended . Since she refuses to kill herself, Violet is kicked out of the house and the doors are locked.  . The setting changes to outdoors where Violet is shown lost and wandering around. She finds a lamb which also seems to be lost which could symbolize the ‘lost sheep’ story in the bible. Violet hugs the lamb, which to her could stand in for her child that she misses. . When Violet’s husband returns to find her missing, his mother and wife fight. Closeup is used in this scene to show the tension between the two characters. Violet finds her way home and her husband finds her. Meanwhile, the sister-in-law kills herself, presumably because she can’t live with the guilt of what she has done to Violet. . In the last scene of the film, Violet and her husband pose with their child who has grown, which shows the passage of the time. The couple are wearing Western clothing which means that they have either rejected their heritage or assimilated into Americans society. They are smiling, which could mean that the curse has been lifted, although in the final shot, there is a close-up of the idol. Does this mean there is more strife awaiting the couple in their future? . Unlike the other films that I viewed for the interventions report, The Curse of Quon Gwon did not feature title cards or written captions. This is because the film had to be restored when it was found as some of the reels were missing which most likely contained the title cards. The absence of title cards made it difficult to deduce some parts of the plot, specifically the significance of the idol. In the typical silent films, actors would exaggerate their facial and bodily movements so that the audience could tell what they were trying to portray, but in Wong’s film, the actors appear more natural, so it was not easy to deduce their thoughts. For instance, in the scene where the mother and daughter are fighting, that confused me because up until that point, Violet’s mother and daughter-in-law seemed to be united in getting rid of Violet. That’s a scene where a title card could have aided in the narrative. There is also no surviving script of the film and few interviews exist with the film-maker about the film, so the official plot was mentioned in a July issue of the Motion Picture magazine which stated according to deepfocusproductions.com “deals with the curse of a Chinese god that follows his people because of the influence of western civilization. The first part is taken in California, showing the intrigues of the Chinese who are living in this country in behalf of the Chinese monarchical government, and those who are working for the revolutionists in favor of a Chinese republic. A love story begins here and is carried through the rest of the production.” . In comparison to the other films I watched, The Curse of Quon Gwon was the only one that wasn’t released or distributed because Wong couldn’t find any distributors willing to purchase the film. This is apparently because distributors believed that American audiences were at the time not interested in viewing non-stereotypical images of Asian Americans.   . As the film was a financial failure, Wong shut down the Mandarin company and instead became a successful restaurateur.  Her film was thought to be lost until Chinese-American director Arthur Dong found it while doing research for his 2007 documentary Hollywood Chinese. . In 2006, The Curse of Quon Gwon was added to the National Film Registry. Wong never lived long enough to see that happen and it is sad that she wasn’t able to produce anymore films in her lifetime as she could have been a prolific film-maker who had a niche in producing films that featured Chinese-American stories which were different from other films that were being released in the same time period. . Since The Curse of Quon Gwon, there have been a few Hollywood films that have featured all Asian casts. The most recent example was Crazy Rich Asians (2018) which is a romantic comedy based off a trilogy of books by Kevin Kwan. Prior to that, The Joy Luck Club (1993) had that honor. This clearly shows that there is still a need for stories about Chinese-Americans in Hollywood, and the financial success of Crazy Rich Asians in particular shows that audiences are ready for this kind of content. I also think it is interesting that the plot of Wong’s film is similar to that of Crazy Rich Asians in that in the latter film, Rachel Chu is not accepted by her boyfriend’s family who are more traditional than hers and they find ways of keeping her and her boyfriend apart.    . Mabel’s Blunder is a black and white film by Mabel Normand. Normand was an actress and director under Keystone films. She is credited as the first major female film comedy star in American motion pictures by the Library of Congress.  . In Mabel’s Blunder, the title card tells us right away that Mabel is secretly engaged to the son of the owner of the company where she works as a stenographer. The owner is also interested in her romantically. . All seems to be well between the engaged couple until a woman that Mabel doesn’t know appears at the office. Suspenseful music plays which gives an indication that something exciting is about to happen. Mabel decides to investigate what is going on between the lady and her fiance. She peeps into the keyhole and the camera gives us a subjective shot as we see through her eyes that her fiance and the woman embrace several times.  . Mabel’s brother visits her at the office. The title card tells us he is her brother. However, it deliberately does not provide a title card for the woman seen with Harry (Mabel’s fiance) because the director wants the audience to wait longer for a resolution. Mabel gets the idea to switch clothing with her brother so that she can go and spy on Harry and the lady. While Mabel is coming up with her scheme, the music changes again. . According to Brent E Walker who wrote a film essay on Mabel for the  Library of Congress,“ Besides trading on the comedy staples of mistaken identities and misunderstood intentions, Mabel’s Blunder also features a double-dose of another standard of farce: gender-impersonation, with Mabel disguising herself as a man, and the unidentified young actor playing Normand’s brother donning drag to impersonate his sibling” (Walker). According to the same writer, Mabel had first worn drag two years prior in Mabel’s stratagem (1912). The use of drag as opposed to Mabel asking her brother to spy on her fiance is for comedic effect. . Other themes in the film include jealousy, suspicion of infidelity, a love triangle (between Mabel, her fiance and fiance’s father) and gender reveal (Harry’s father finding out that he is embracing a man).   . In the end, Mabel is discovered at the gathering she attends to spy on her fiance, where he tells her that the woman is his sister. The couple reconcile and we assume that they will live happily ever after. . Mabel’s Blunder isn’t distinctive from many of the other Keystone film’s released at the time as her directorial control was monitored by the founder of Keystone, Sennett .Mabel was not credited on every film she directed with Keystone and was underpaid, earning $175 a week. On the other hand, she was one of the first female actors to have her name listed as part of the title of a film. Her other self titled films included Mabel’s Lovers (1912), Mabel’s Married Life (1914), Mabel’s Strange Predicament (1914).    . Mabel eventually founded her own film company with Sennett called Mabel Normand Feature Film Company and produced her most successful film called Mickey (1918) which was the highest grossing film of that year.  . A series of scandals negatively affected her career such as rumors of alcoholism and the death of a female actress who had been last seen at the residence of an actor she was working with among others.  . Despite those scandals, Mabel has still had a major influence on comedy. In 2009, Mabel’s Blunder was listed in the National Registry. According to an article published by the Guardian titled ‘Eyes on the Pies; How Mabel Normand: Chaplin’s mentor, changed cinema’ by Jay Mc Carthy, “ Normand became (arguably) the first star to use the screen aside as a comic device, breaking the fourth wall to confide in the audience – a technique that became her trademark. The following year, she had the bright, and then novel, idea of spicing up a scene by chucking a custard pie” (Mc Carthy). 'Pieing’ or throwing a pie on a character’s face has been used since then in countless comedies. Mabel also had an impact on the career of Charlie Chaplin, one of the most notable silent film stars of all time. She served as Chaplin’s mentor when he joined Keystone and some writers say that he copied some of her comedic mannerisms and adopted them into his career. For instance, in Mc Carthy’s article, “A study of her films, made before Chaplin came to this country, shows entire routines, gestures, reactions, expressions, that were later a part of Chaplin’s characteristics” (Mc Carthy). . I watched three of Alice Guy Blache’s films for the intervention report. A House Divided (1913), Falling Leaves (1912) and The Ocean Waif (1916). Alice Guy Blache was a French-American director credited as being the first female director in the world. She began her career as a stenographer in France for Gaumont, a company that supplied film equipment such as cameras. Under Gaumont, she began experimenting with the cameras and began to direct films. Blache moved to the United States after her marriage and founded her own company called Solax Films in 1910, releasing over 300 films over the course of it’s four year existence.   . A House Divided is one of Blache’s most well known films. It is a black and white silent film that deals with subject matter that Alice Guy Blache was known for featuring; domestic issues in a marriage. The plot revolves around a couple who are suspicious of each other and think that their partner is being unfaithful. . The opening scene is an office in a perfume company. A label shows the perfume company as well as a title card provides that information. A perfume salesman sprays perfume on one of the male workers in the office. When he returns home, his wife suspects him of cheating on him. He also suspects his wife of infidelity when a visitor of the couple’s maid leaves his gloves at the couple’s house. The husband and wife visit their lawyer to find a solution.  . The divorce papers are shown on the screen which I assume is a pre-cursor to zoom. The couple agree to live in the same house but to not speak to each other except through notes which we see as the audience. . The plot twist occurs when the couple’s maid is locked outside the house and breaks in through the window. Suspecting a burglar, the wife sends a note to her husband. They both decide to deal with the burglar and the reveal is what breaks the tension and leads the couple to reconcile. One of the most obvious film techniques is intercutting which is to cut back and forth between different scenes.               . In terms of the impact of A House Divided, according to Gwendolyn Audrey Foster who wrote Women Film Directors: An International Bio-Critical Dictionary, “A House Divided is a forerunner of the television situation comedy” (Foster, 162).  . In Falling Leaves (1912) ,the main actress is a child named Trixie whose older sister falls ill with consumption. Trixie overhears the doctor mentioning that her sister will die when the last leaves fall.  . Trixie remains the focus of the screen as the other characters move into the other room out of the camera range . She looks outside to see that the leaves are falling fast and her facial expression shows sadness.  . The use of the parlor as a setting is where most of the action takes place. It is where Trixie’s sister is examined by the doctor and it is where Trixie has a view to the leaves on the trees.   . The color changes and becomes lighter in the scene where Trixie is in bed  and has the idea of going outside to tie the leaves that have fallen off the trees back on to them. The camera shifts to feature Trixie in close-up. The doctor sees her tying up the leaves and tells her that he has an idea. The doctor uses his cure that he discovered in the first scene of the film to cure Trixie’s sister. Title cards are used to show the passage of time (3 months) and the doctor returns to visit Trixie’s sister who has been cured. As the film ends, the characters show that they like each other and may begin a romantic relationship. . Falling Leaves was one the films where Alice Guy Blache used a child actor, and she was one of the first directors to do that. The actress who played Trixie acted in 26 films produced by Solax between 1910 and 1913. . The Ocean Waif (1916) tackles the controversial issue of incest. Millie is a girl found in a fishing village and is taken in by a man who becomes her step-father. She is forced to cook for him and he abuses her to the point where she runs away. . Millie finds an abandoned house. When she lights candles, the color of the film also brightens. Unbeknownst  to Millie, Ronald who is a writer looking for inspiration moves into the mansion. . In terms of setting and mis-en-scene, the house can be seen as a separate character. Pictured in the afternoon when Ronald is checking it out, it is large and imposing. His manservant tells him that there is a rumor the house is haunted by the ghost of the owner’s daughter. However, Ronald doesn’t believe his manservant and they move in.    . Millie is eventually discovered by Ronald and over the course of a few days, they fall in love. Millie changes from a young lady to a woman through the use of costume. She changes from her overalls to a dress with a full skirt. Ronald and Millie share a kiss which is interrupted by Ronald’s fiancee’s arrival. In a previous scene, a telegram was shown on camera from her stating that she would be arriving, in response to a letter he had sent when disembarking from the ship he was on. Ronald tells his fiance that there is nothing going on between the two and that he feels paternal towards her. . With nowhere else to go, Millie leaves the mansion and returns home. She is no longer wearing the dress, which could symbolize that she is no longer a 'Cinderella’ or a lady. Her step-father decides he wants to marry her and kisses her without consent. A man who had been stalking Millie from the beginning of the film kills her father. Afraid to deal with the consequences of his actions, he runs away, and the plot twist then occurs. Ronald who also had a similar gun that was used to kill Millie’s father happens to arrive on the scene the same time as the police and locals who accuse him of the killing.    . A trail happens, and Millie defends Ronald who is acquitted. His fiance had left him during the trail, which we find out from a letter shown on screen. Millie and Ronald reconcile at the end of the film, and the last shot shows a boat, which could mean that the couple are going on a voyage across the ocean.  . In terms of the title of the film, we learn that it refers to Millie’s back story being shipwrecked through title cards during her conversation with Ronald at the mansion. The significance of the Ocean also refers to Ronald who used a yacht to get to the town. . It is clear that some parts of the film are missing as still shots are inserted into the film in some scenes. However, the use of title cards is enough to have the audience understand the plot. This is the only film I watched from the list that had different parts (ie part 1, 2, 3 etc) and I believe that this served as a way for the audience to identify a change in scene.    . All three of the above mentioned films by Alice Guy Blache’s are different in their subject matter, which showcases her talent in directing different types of movies. Over the course of her career, she directed Westerns, comedies, romantic films and other genres.  She is also credited for being one of the first directors to use technicolor, synchronized sound and closeups. She is also responsible for the success of Lois Weber who became an acclaimed director. However, many of her films were lost and some films that she directed were miscredited to feature her husband’s name or other male directors. For the most part, she was left out of history books, meaning she was unknown to the general public. However, in 2019, Pamela Green’s documentary Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy Blache was released which shed more light on Alice and her work, for which she deserves. – MK

[imastreetlight-blog1]

Theater Review - Hamilton National Tour

This is gonna be a little different from my other reviews as I’ll be mostly comparing and contrasting Hamilton on tour with Hamilton on Broadway. I was lucky enough to see Hamilton on Broadway with the OBC. This was way before the prices became crazy and out of my price range. I knew once Hamilton became a culture icon, I was unlikely to see the show again for at least 5 years. Despite not being able to afford the prices, I was still stoked to find out the Hamilton tour would be starting in San Francisco and would be here for almost five months. Not to mention, they had put together an amazing cast for the tour. While I knew the chances were really really slim, I couldn’t help but hope I would win the lottery. Months went by and no luck. With the show preparing to leave in a couple weeks, I pretty much gave up any hope of winning so imagine my surprised when I received an email with the subject line: “You won lottery tickets to HAMILTON!” I never clicked on an email faster. I was giddy all day; I almost had to run around outside because I had so much pent up energy. (Of course, then the eventual worries kick in as Lucky Seats also sent me a rejection email too.) I didn’t 100% believed I actually won till I pick up my tickets from the box office.

My Broadway and tour tickets (almost two years apart) & signed program by the cast (I wish SHNSF still had playbills)

 I had greats seats for the show. I ended up sitting first row, one away from the center aisle. Seeing the show up close was so thrilling. The first time I had saw the show, I was all the way up in the Rear Mezzanine plus the cast recording wasn’t out at the time. This time I was about to take in all the details up close and since I already knew all the songs, I could spend more time focusing on the visuals. There were so many things I missed the first time and there’s probably a lot more that I still haven’t caught. For example, I never noticed that everyone was playing keep-away with Burr’s book during the Farmer Refuted that Eliza’s blue dress in Burn isn’t blue, it’s white with blue pinstripes. It was also really cool to just follow certain actors or ensemble members during a particular scene. 

The view from my seat.

Obviously, the main difference in experiences between the show I saw two years ago and the touring version is the cast. I will say that seeing this show on tour only reaffirmed my belief that the show itself is the star and the material completely holds up on it’s on but all in all this cast did not disappoint. All the praise they have been receiving has been extremely well deserved, especially for the two main leads, Joshua Henry and Michael Luwoye. What I really appreciated was the dynamic between their two characters. I think the relationship between Burr and Hamilton is one of the most important elements of the show and Joshua and Michael nailed it in a way that was completely different from what Lin and Leslie did. I’ve always seen Leslie’s Burr as more serious and formal. He’s a little bit more guarded emotionally and he acts very properly, playing by the rules and not ruffling any feathers. This worked in perfect contrast to Lin’s Hamilton, who was very energetic and a bit hotheaded and wasn’t afraid to get into people’s faces. When the character spoke, his passion came off as very forceful and urgent. With Joshua and Michael’s take on the characters, the personalities are almost flipped. Joshua’s Burr is a lot more charming; he smiles more and comes across as more personable but there’s an edge to it. His smiles are a little too strained and forceful, almost if he’s trying to manipulate people through a pretense of kindness. Micheal’s Hamilton is more subdue than Lin’s, the character comes off as a little more thoughtful and serious which adds weight to when the character speaks. Hamilton isn’t just spouting off whatever comes to his mind, he genuinely believes what he’s saying and his passion steam from fervidly believing in his words and ideas. In this pairing, Burr is the character who is willing to say anything to get what he wants and Hamilton is the character who puts his entire weight and reputation behind what he says. It’s a slightly difference interpretation but both of them did so well with their characters. Just because they made slightly different choices from the OBC doesn’t mean one interpretation is better than the other (though if I had to pick, I would go Joshua’s Act 1, Leslie’s Act 2, Lin’s Act 1, and Michael’s Act 2). Burr and Hamilton are two sides of the same coin, two people who want the same things but went about it in different ways. Hopefully, every production will strive to find actors who can play into that dynamic, like these two dueling partners did.  

This post is already pretty long but I just want to comment on a couple other performers. Emmy Raver-Lampman was amazing as Angelica. She gave my favorite performance besides Joshua and Michael. So many people have listened to the OBCR day after day and know every single part of it, which can lead some people to being disappointed that the actors don’t sound exactly like the recording. But this is not the case with Emmy as she hit all her notes and marks perfectly. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see Solea Pfeiffer but her understudy Julia K. Harriman had a lovely voice as well. Jordan Donica, struggled a bit with Lafayette but gave a funny performance as Jefferson, really playing up the snobbery element. He and the understudy for George Washington (Ryan Vasquez) are a good bit taller than Michael which added another level to their dynamic; it almost reminded me of a smaller dog being unafraid of yapping at larger dogs. Rory O’Malley milks all the laughs he can by really hamming it up as King George. And so does Amber Iman with Peggy, adding new laughes to her scenes. Honestly, I could go on and on about this cast as I think this is the best cast since the OBC. Anyone who hasn’t seen the show or is having trouble getting tickets on Broadway, should definitely consider the national tour instead as the production team did not skimp on quality at all. 

Side note: While I don’t always care for some of the Hamilton merchandise, I really like the official shirt for the SF tour stop that I just had to get it. The clean look with the silhouette logo designs intersperse with regular stars looks really nice. Out of the three city shirts, I like SF the best (LA probably has the worst shirt). Also, they didn’t have this in NY but at the tour merch stands, you can buy a Hamilton tote bag for $5 with purchase. The bag is kinda small and isn’t made of sturdy material but compare to the rest of the merch, it’s a pretty good deal.

[kichessarjilian]

Witnessing a World Record - Hope & Legacy in Helsinki

I have so many thoughts and stories I want to share from the 2017 World Championships in Helsinki, but I’ll start with Yuzuru Hanyu’s world recording breaking free skate which is obviously the thing I want to talk about most! It’s been 3 days since the men’s free program and the excitement and joy still lingers and has definitely put me in a good mood even as I return to work (hopefully this will last all the way to WTT!). I have a lot to say on this so bear with me as this will be long.

After the men’s SP on Thursday I think many Yuzu fans that I met and spoke with were quite depressed and there were a lot of doom-and-gloom talks going on (would he even medal, will he take silver to Javi AGAIN, etc etc). The one thing we did say repeatedly in our conversations was that it wasn’t over yet, and that he still had a chance to win gold but he would probably need to be clean in order to do so, and that is exactly what he did.

The nervous feeling for the men’s free started up immediately after the pairs free program ended the night before, up until that point that day I was able to distract myself with the other competitions but at that point it felt imminent and real. That night in the hotel room I was stress eating instant noodles late at night (I guess Boyang likes to celebrate this way) while I wrapped up the Winnie-the-Pooh I got to toss on the ice, the gift I got for Yuzu, and wrote the card to go with it. After the SP I had stuck the little Yuzu buttons I had made on the Winnie-the-Pooh and held it as I went to sleep the next two nights, that thing really brought me some comfort over a couple of days. Each morning housekeeping would make our beds and place our Pooh bears neatly on the bed, I have to wonder what they thought of all the Poohs and toys in our hotel room!

That same night I was stress eating the noodles I remembered that I had brought a bag of Bourbon Lumonde snacks (from the “mou chotto” meme) that I happened to find at a local Daiso shop before I left home. Now, I’m not superstitious, but I had meant to eat one of the snacks before the SP for good luck - as if I was eating and making the bit that was lacking disappear. Sadly, I totally forget the bag in my hotel room the day of the SP because we left early to get a good seat to watch morning practice that day. Well, I remembered them that night and immediately dug them up and made my friend and I eat one each that night to eat away all doubts! I took the rest of the bag with me the day of the free and told my friends that we would eat ALL of the bag before Yuzu skated his free skate (and we did during the last ice resurfacing).

As the final group was preparing to get on the ice I grabbed my Hope and Legacy banner in preparation and my wrapped up Pooh bear to hold for support. As they did the skater intros Yuzu kept moving around to keep his body warm, he looked extremely focused. He started the warm-up with a nice 3Lz but then fell on a 3A which I’m sure made the audience stand on edge since he rarely fails to land his axels. Once warm-up ended I looked up at the seconds on the jumbotron to make sure he wasn’t in danger of having a time violation again, but he promptly took his place this time. Then the program began.

What happened over the next 4 minutes and 30 seconds was nothing short of magic. As he landed his 4Lo the cheers and applause erupted but were quickly silenced until he landed the following quad salchow to which we all erupted again. After each jump I would applaud as hard as I could, then quickly clutch the Pooh bear again. Once the triple flip was completed and we moved into the second half of the program it seemed like everyone in the arena held their breath as we waited for the 4S3T combo. When he landed the salchow and then the toe beautifully everyone cheered the loudest, as if we all knew this combo had plagued him in the free the entire season. The relief was short-lived as he set up for the 4T and the tension increased again, and then he proceeded to land the most beautiful 4T he’s done in the second half yet! I was stunned by how magnificent it was, but was still waiting for the axels. With each element being completed I felt the elation inside build and build, I could hardly believe what I was witnessing and I felt delirious. 

As Yuzu exited his spin to begin his choreographic sequence everyone started applauding and cheering and that intensified with his hydroblade and ina bauer up until the set up for the 3Lz where it went nearly silent. Once he landed the final lutz the audience went absolutely crazy! The applause and the cheers continued until the end of the program as nearly everyone got on their feet. I remember clapping like crazy and shouting non-stop, I was so excited I was waving my banner around and jumping up and down for who-knows how long after it was over. The girl beside me was so moved she was crying, after the program we looked at each other and gave each other a hug even though we had never spoken a word to each other the entire competition. The excitement was palpable, and the audience in Helsinki was so supportive for all skaters, it really felt as if this program and this skate unified the audience and we reacted as a collective as he showed us something unbelievable. It felt as if my entire body was charged, I knew that no one would be topping that free skate that night and just hoped that it would be enough to take the title.

My seat was just above the Kiss and Cry, as Yuzu stepped off the ice he gave a hug to Brian and to Tracy. Can I just say I loved seeing Tracy rink side during the entire competition? I know she’s usually busy doing commentary but I hope next season she finds the opportunity to be at the rink side and Kiss and Cry with her students, she does just as much as Brian does and I think the skaters also appreciate her presence. The scores were ready pretty quickly, and I knew we were in for a new world record, as the announcer enthusiastically proclaimed, “223.20 points,” the crowd exploded again. Also, looking at the protocols I think if Yuzu had skated later in the last group we would’ve seen higher GOE for his jumps. They were immaculate. I loved the reaction of all three in the Kiss and Cry - Brian smiling proudly, Yuzu looking up with his eyes wide then closed as he basked in joy in near tears, and Tracy who was calm and collected until the score registered with her and she looked on in disbelief.

I think after Yuzu’s performance I was in an incredibly good mood, everything and everyone’s programs seemed 10x more enjoyable, even the ice dance free afterward seemed more exciting. As each skater in the final group skated I checked on the real-time scores on the ISU site to see what score they needed in order to take the lead, and Yuzu’s scores held for the remainder of the night as we were treated to some other fantastic performances in the final group. When it came time for Javi to skate and I watched his program unfold I knew that Yuzu had succeeded and I couldn’t believe he was able to move from 5th to 1st in such a stunning fashion. I clapped so much and so hard I think I bruised my left hand since it hurt the next day.

As Javi’s scores were read and I noticed the final ranking of the podium I yelped for joy (sorry, Javi, I couldn’t help my honest reaction). Yuzu, Shoma, and Boyang had been the dream podium I told my friends I wanted at the very start of the season and I was in partial disbelief that it had actually happened. I was recording the medal ceremony, and as the audience stood for the Japanese national anthem the arena went silent. As the song began to play I could quietly hear the audience in the distance singing the lyrics together (I wonder if it’s audible in my fancam video?) and I just lost it.

I’m not Japanese, but the moment was so sweet, so unifying, and so gratifying that I had a brief flashback to the medal ceremony in Boston the year before which was the first competition I had ever attended. I had decided to go to Boston instead of Barcelona that season because it was within the US and I felt sure I’d be going to witness Yuzu reclaim his world title. The memory of the sad feeling and watching Yuzu go through the medal ceremony to receive the silver medal in Boston was so excruciating that I’ve never watched it again. Thinking back on that moment, with the voice of the audience singing the national anthem in my ear, and seeing Yuzu standing atop the podium the tears just started welling up in my eyes and I began to cry. Before my trip to Helsinki started I had told friends I had met in Boston that I hope no matter what I don't end up crying during the gala again (Yuzu's Requiem in Boston hit me hard). I don't think I've ever cried from happiness before, but these were probably the best kind of happy tears. I wasn't expecting to be moved so much but it came from a place of joy. It felt like we, and he, had been waiting so long for this moment to come. The journey to his second world title had seemed so long and full of obstacles. From Cup of China all the way to Worlds in Helsinki, the weight of it seemed to sink in and I couldn’t help crying. As I was recording with the tears in my eyes and my running nose, a kind Hartwall staffer came up to me and handed me a tissue in an act of kindness that warmed my heart (you may or may not hear my crying in the fancam…).

While I witnessed Yuzu’s perfect Ballade SP in Boston which nearly set a new world record, that experience and this felt very different. Perhaps it was the fact that we knew he had to fight in the free skate and be perfect to have a hope at winning the title that added to the drama and excitement of it. It also felt like there was a larger Japanese crowd in Helsinki than in Boston (Boston felt like more Americans and Canadians) and the audience in general was super supportive for all skaters. I was elated in Boston after the SP, and I had a similar elation here for the FS but it felt magnified ten times over. The entire free skate it felt as if the audience was one in supporting him - it’s a feeling I won’t forget and will treasure for a long time. After the medal ceremony a group of fans from the FB group met up in the concourse, there were hugs and high fives all around and no one could contain their excitement. It felt like we had witnessed the impossible! I’m so glad I decided to come to Worlds in Helsinki, I hadn’t decided on it until Skate Canada came around but I’m so glad I did as I would’ve missed out on a spectacular event and witnessing Yuzu set a new world record. Another fun tidbit - after the medal ceremony Yuzu took a photo with Grishlan (I don't think I'm spelling his name right) and then handed him his bouquet.

Anyway, I've rambled on for much longer than I anticipated. I'll try to do write-ups of the other events and the rest of the men in the coming days. To all the fans I met in Helsinki, and to Yuzu and all the other skaters, thank you for making this an unforgettable experience.

[cafffeinations]

It’s a bit late, but here is a Taiwan/Seychelles fic for aph yuri week 2017! Inspired the prompt ‘rain’, set within the canon universe, China briefly features, approx. 1600 words and can be read on AO3 here. No content warnings, just one very minor sex implication and a fair bit of fluff!

Summary: Inconvenient rain, disapproving finance managers, and nagging family members are things which Taiwan would try not to let get to her anyway, but with Seychelles arriving later, nothing can keep her spirits down.

It’s so typical, she thinks to herself as she hurriedly unlocks her door to get inside from the pouring rain, that it would have to rain now of all times!

Granted, it wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d had her umbrella. But she’d managed to leave it behind in rushing straight from work to the store, her thoughts full of beautiful Seychelles and her imminent arrival. She couldn’t have helped her distraction even if she’d tried; she’d been longing for this day for weeks, and was beyond excited now it had finally rolled around. Yet as a result she now looks like a dripping mess, and had wanted to spend time putting the finishing touches to her home and cooking rather than fixing herself up…still, with a bit of luck she’ll look alright by the time Seychelles flies in.

Setting down her groceries and heading in search of a towel, there’s a smile pulling at her lips despite the slight snag in her plans - she just can’t wait to see her! Sure, they keep in touch often, and she’s grateful that technology these days allows them the contact it does, but a webcam just doesn’t compare to seeing her wide beam in person, directed straight at her, and the sparks that warm her whole being when they touch.

Not long to go now!

She changes into a pair of leggings and a casual t-shirt style dress, mind running through what she needs to do - yet now she stops to think for just a moment, she gets the feeling that she may be rushing around due to excited energy rather than actually having things to do. She’s been ready since the day before yesterday, truth be told,and funnily enough perhaps the only place she’s neglected is her guestroom. Her prettiest bed sheets are out on her own bed this time, for there’s no pretence when they visit anymore that they won’t be sharing one together-

Before she can get too lost down that train of thought, her phone buzzes. Wrapping a towel around her head to stop her hair dripping water down her back, she looks at the screen to see it’s only China calling. She decides he can wait, because she’s fairly sure of what he’ll say and how she won’t like the sound of it. It’s not that he doesn’t like Seychelles (and she doesn’t see why anyone wouldn’t), but the idea of her being with someone in general, she suspects. She can really do without the comments and hints that she’s spending too much time with her though, as if she’s neglecting certain responsibilities that their kind has. It’s completely uncalled for, because she would never do such a thing as to ignore her country; even if she wanted to she could never be so careless, and he knows this.

He’s almost as bad as the finance people with their summaries of her ‘expenditures’ – she doesn’t particularly care for an overview of these, let alone a detailed summary that highlights changes and specifically areas of increase, which of course happen to be certain flights to a certain place beginning with ‘S’. They wouldn’t dare comment outright, of course, for she holds at least that much respect. But it still feels an awful lot like judgement and is a complete lack of privacy that she resents. If it wasn’t for the fact that they got such data automatically through account transactions, she wouldn’t be telling them of her purchases at all. She imagines they would love to get hold of her other means of finances too, to have a ‘full picture’ of everything, but she has to put her foot down somewhere!

Anyway, now isn’t the time to get annoyed about this – on the bright side, she’d signed the silly spreadsheet off this morning, along with some other documents requiring her review, and with the exception of quick check-ins from her, it’s been agreed that she’ll be left in peace for the next week and a half.

It will go so quick, she knows it already. Her phone buzzes again and she checks it just in case it’s Seychelles, though she expects she’ll be mid-air right now – it’s China, in message form. You’ve got no time at all in your calendar until next month? You never make time for us anymore!

This is such an exaggeration that her eyes nearly get stuck rolling back in their sockets. It’s also not even true, as she had indeed said they would meet him for lunch one day, but it didn’t suit him. And he’d then had the nerve to grumble that he could never keep up with their chatter anyway, like that was all they did.

Well, yes, she could admit that her and Seychelles did talk a lot, but that’s what happens when she gets along with someone so well. And get along well they do, both being fun-loving and cheery – it’s only natural that they bounce off each other so easily. She loves Seychelles’ company most though for not feeling like she needs to be like this all the time – she never has to try, because that’s simply how Seychelles makes her feel. Happy, at ease; those doubts and worries that creep out at her loneliest hours are banished to the crevices of her mind when Seychelles’ radiant heart is near hers. For the most part, anyway – and should they escape, there’s no need for her to put on a false front. If she has something to get off her chest, Seychelles truly listens, and doesn’t get uncomfortable that she’s not the cheerful girl people always expect her to be for the moment.

She reassures her over what she can, and is there to wait patiently when things aren’t all fine. She is a true friend – well, more than that – to lean on, and she can only hope she provides the same comfort in return.

{“Of course you do”, Seychelles had told her once, as they sat knees touching, watching the sun set over waves rolling in and out over the shore, “I always know you’re here for me, for the good and bad. And you're really here for me - you don’t use me for my islands as a getaway, unlike some I could mention!” And they’d laced their fingers together and squeezed, just a little but still enough to make her heart thump. She'd felt so special; like she was - she would say it - loved].

That was when they were really shifting into the relationship they have now, she remembers, a coy smile dancing across her face, and it’s moments like those she treasures and hopes to experience again and again.

It’s true that Seychelles may not be the first she’s loved, neither nation nor woman, but she’s the one here for her now, and that’s what counts. She will make the most of happiness where it blossoms no matter what others may think.

This in mind, she quickly types back something tongue-in-cheek to China [Bitterness isn’t a fashionable look these days, you know!], but barely two seconds after she hits send there’s a knock at her door.

What now?!

She isn’t expecting any deliveries, and it’s odd because no-one really calls on her here – is it someone in need? The knocking persists, so she goes to answer, and she hopes it’s nothing serious – it is still raining relentlessly, maybe it’s just-

A grinning, though drenched, Seychelles.

“What are you doing here?!” she blurts out without thinking, too shocked and suddenly worried whether she messed up the times, but she was sure she’d said-

“I thought I’d come early and surprise you!” Seychelles beams, “Unless you’ve taken back your invite already?”

She laughs, relieved; of course Seychelles would do something like this, and before she can think any further she pulls her into the doorway and straight into her arms, hugging her tight around her middle.

It’s not the most comfortable embrace they’ve had, as damp as her front now is from Seychelles, but the effect is just as wonderful as she's hugged even tighter back.

“I’ve missed you,” she sighs into Seychelles’ ear, unafraid to admit it out loud.

“Me too.”

Eventually they pull apart, and Seychelles looks at her sheepishly. "Oh look, now I’ve got you all wet! Maybe I should’ve checked the weather before I left the airport, huh?”

“Don’t worry - I got caught in it earlier too!”

“Oh, you mean the ‘fluffy-towel-around-your-hair’ look isn’t a new fashion at your place then?!”

She giggles and sticks out her tongue, striking a fake model’s pose; “Of course, it’s totally the new thing! Don't you like it?”

“Hmm,” Seychelles cocks her head to one side, eyes sparkling, “It certainly looks good on you! You can pull anything off!”

“Oh, you,” she says, unable to suppress a small blush, “first you show up here unexpected, then you shower me with compliments! Aren’t you romantic?”

Seychelles laughs, and it’s a wonderfully light-hearted sound, “The only thing missing was an actual kiss in the rain!”

“You're right, we did miss that one!”

“D'you want to?”

“What?” she says, not sure how serious she's being, “That’s crazy!”

“Come on, you know you want to!”

Seychelles takes her hand - well, why the hell not; together they run back out into the elements, and Seychelles steps close to her, cups her face in her hands, brings their lips together just as she closes her eyes. It's partly from the rain but just as much from the overwhelming warmth that blooms in her chest as they kiss, seamlessly and full of all the longing that’s built up inside her from being apart. Their lips slide together, quite a bit more than usual, but she holds onto Seychelles’ waist and lets the raindrops soak into them, for she couldn’t tear herself away if she’d wanted to.

They probably looked like idiots if anyone could see them, but she didn’t care – with her heart full to bursting, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.

[highqualityvolleyball]

Nekoma - Hogwarts Hcs

This went waaaaay longer than I intended it to be...it started out as what house, favorite class and blood status....then it turned into ...well...this

Kuroo:  Slytherin to the core.  A born leader, he leads not through inspiring his house, but instead knowing each of them and their motivations, able to tailor his motivational speeches to each person he delivers it too.  His ability to read a person instantly is once more shown in how he’s a master of provocation.  He’s fiercely loyal to his house and friends and dares anyone to try and disrespect them around him.  They’ll wake up the next up the next morning with a nasty case of boils.  Both Slytherin Prefect and the captain of the Quidditch team, he technically always has something to be doing, but let any of his friends or housemates need help and he’ll drop everything to help them.  

He’s a pureblood with a talent for potions due to the fact that he understands much of the principles behind it.  

Beech wand – wizard will be wise beyond his years when young and rich in understanding and experience full-grown; capable of subtlety and artistry

Kenma:  Kenma is Pureblood Ravenclaw, he enjoys arithemacy but excels at transfiguration, things that are more straightforward.

Growing up, he lived close to Kuroo and his family and when he ended up going to Hogwarts he knew that Kuroo was hoping he’d end up in Slytherin. However, he knew that Slytherins tend to be exposed to more scrutiny from the rest of the houses and begged the house not to put him there.  Due to his keen intellect and analytical nature, the hat immediately plopped him in Ravenclaw.  Of course, he still gets the scrutiny due to his close friendship with Kuroo.  After making some offhand remarks he becomes the Ravenclaw Quidditch team’s strategist.  (However, he’s often ended up helping both the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams with some plays especially suited to their best players such as Kuroo and Hinata)

Cedar wand– perspicacity and perception; potential to be a frightening adversary

Yaku:  A halfblood hot-headed Hufflepuff.  Hardwork, dedication, loyalty and fair play – patience isn’t always his strongest suit.

His father was actually good friends with Kuroo’s father and as a result they were supposed to be best friends.  And they are…if you get past the disagreements and angry glares that made up most of their childhood.  However, once they went to Hogwarts, they decided it was much better to be friends in this new place.  Now, that’s not say that they don’t still have their disagreements, but they tend to work it out.  And it’s always a source of amusement to everyone else to see the Hufflepuff losing his temper with the slightly taunting Slytherin.  

He enjoys the creativity granted to him in charms.  

Fir wand – staying power and strength of purpose; suited to transfiguration and favor owners of focused, strong-minded and intimidating demeanour

Kai:  Is a muggleborn Ravenclaw who ended up in the same train compartment as Yaku and Kuroo and so was adopted to form a neat little trio “in case we don’t make any other friends” Kuroo had said as he looked significantly at Yaku who then proceeded to threaten to toss the pureblood out the train’s window.  He’s someone who excels in sense and technique and appreciates being able to learn new things.  A more laid-back Ravenclaw he does approach life with dignity and an accepting nature. He’s calmer than Yaku and not as antagonistic as Kuroo.  If a fight between the other two does go too far, he’s the one called on (by either a younger Hufflepuff or Slytherin, but most often approached by someone from both houses) to step in and get them to make up.

Like Yaku, he’s good at charms, but he’s a bit better at transfiguration due to his calmer nature.  

Elm wand – owners with presence, magical dexterity and native dignity; produces the fewest accidents, least foolish errors, most elegant charms and spells

Yamamoto:  A halfblood Gryffindor he knows the traditions of the purebloods, but prefers the laxity of the muggles.  

Yamamoto often clashes with the younger Gryffindor Lev as they both share their plans for becoming the star Qudditch players after the graduation of the team’s current star, Bokuto Koutaro.  A spot that’s also being argued for by Lev’s fellow yearmate, Hinata Shoyou. (It should be noted that Bokuto doesn’t help much, just laughs and encourages it.  It drives vice captain Kamisaki and Gryffindor prefect Iwaizumi crazy.)

A huge fan of defense against dark arts, he’s not always the best, but he does approach duels with a certain ingenuity (which is really just an unpredictability) that makes him a force to be reckoned with

Blackthorn wand– best suited to a warrior; wands need to pass through danger/hardship to become truly bonded – loyal and faithful

Fukunaga: A muggleborn Ravenclaw, on the quiet side he’s intelligent and witty.

Unlike some of the other muggleborns who are out there trying to make a name for themselves right away, Fukunaga prefers to be a little quieter about his magical education.  He fits right in with the rest of the Ravenclaws who enjoy his humor though they do wish he would speak up a little more.  He’s confident enough in his own abilities and enjoys the new life he’s getting to experience through his magical abilities.  Though, he does wish that Yamamoto – who he sat with on the train first year, and the loud Gryffindor decided that made them friends – would stop bugging him about “talking more.”  

Having always done well in plain old ordinary math, he likes to try his luck with arithmancy.

Black Walnut wand – master of good instincts and powerful insight; sincere, self-aware owner it’s one of the most loyal and impressive wands of all, particular flair for charmwork

Inuoka:  Muggleborn Gryffindor, Inouka is always focused on improving and getting better. Friendly and outgoing he fits right in with the majority of the Gryffindor house.  

The same year as both Lev and Hinata, he’s good with spending most of his time with the two of them, despite the fact that he tends to be in their shadow most of the time.  However, they both make sure that when he feels welcomed with them – regardless of how anyone else views them.  He’s fascinated by this new world of magic all around him.  

A huge fan of History of Magic because he does want to learn as much about this new world as possible.  

Alder wand – not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likeable

Lev: A pureblood Gryffindor – however, still a bit out of his element, because he’s spent most of his life in his mother’s native country, Russia.  And being in Hogwarts is his first long exposure to his father’s country.

There was no doubt in his mind when he put that sorting hat on that he would end up in Gryffindor.  However he was still super excited when he did end up there.  Despite the fact that he can sometimes irritate the rest of Hogwarts, he fits right in with the Gryffindor house and has a firm circle of friends.  In addition to Kuroo, he does manage to be one of the people that Hufflepuff Yaku loses his temper with (the rest of Hogwarts loves it)

Flying was his favorite subject first year and he doesn’t think that any of the rest of his subjects ever compared. He hopes to be a player for a national Quidditch team one day.  

Hornbeam wand – master is for life, and tends to have a single, pure passion; adapt quickly to master’s magic style and is extremely personalized; absorb owner’s code of honor and refuses ot perform acts that do not mesh with their master’s principles

Shibayama: Shibayama is a muggleborn Hufflepuff.

He’s one of the muggleborn that feels pretty completely out of his depth here and is thankful to every higher power that he ended up in Hufflepuff because he’s pretty sure any other house would have eaten him alive (maybe not on purpose…except Slytherin, he’s heard stories).  Of course there are still frightening people in Hufflepuff, such as Aone who Shibayama later learns is a big softie.  And then there’s people that he later learns are much more intimidating than they look and he doesn’t want to mess with, such as Quidditch team captain, Daichi Sawamura – who in addition to Yaku is not afraid to take on the Slytherin Kuroo Tetsurou. In Hufflepuff, Yaku is his idol because he noticed that the older boy, while living up to the Hufflepuff ideals still isn’t intimidated or pushed around by anyone.  

He’s good at muggle studies, though he tries to do his best in charms as a way to emulate Yaku.  

Larch wand – hidden talents and unexpected effects; owners never realize the full extent of their talents until paired with it

[tiffanie-nicole2011-blog]

EAST SIDE CONFIDENTIAL part two, Confusion on the Heels of Chaos

historywillabsolvemike.blogspot.com/ EAST SIDE CONFIDENTIAL part two: Confusion on the Heels of Chaos

"I was once, if I remember correctly, present at a gathering of madmen." – Roberto Bolaño

Conjoined twins sharing a vital organ are destined to die simultaneously. Frank "Turk" Jaworski and the Open Kitchen took the same exit. Their departure marked the end of an era, one that was an anachronism by the time of its disappearance. The Open Kitchen was a small space unaffected by linear time. Within the confines of its walls, time sputtered and stalled somewhere in the mid-fifties due to a defect in the time/space continuum. The Open Kitchen was a unique experience. It could never be duplicated. No one in their right mind would even attempt such a folly. The bar was the three dimensional manifestation of Turk’s personality. Bill Curry opened the Copabanana not long after the Open Kitchen closed. Change was inevitable after so many years of stasis. Only one element remained the same. All hell continued to break loose at the same address.

The Copabanana was entirely different from the Open Kitchen. It featured a fully stocked bar, not just cans of Schmidt’s and cheap booze. Every element of Turk’s bar was completely erased by the new owner. The Copa yanked the clock violently into the present. Unlike the dictatorial reign of Turk, Bill Curry preferred a laissez faire approach toward running his bar. As long as the behavior of his clientele didn’t jeopardize his liquor license, he was quite tolerant of borderline behavior. It was easier and more profitable to ignore everything but major transgressions. All Curry required from his customers was a modicum of discretion and no blatant acts of lawlessness. Considering the clientele and the staff, even this small concession was a challenge. Society was changing in the late seventies and early eighties. These changes were responsible for a more open sexual atmosphere. The birth control pill was in widespread use and sexually transmitted diseases were not yet identified as being permanent or fatal As a result the sexual revolution was in full swing. South Street swung a bit further than other neighborhoods. The area had a reputation for embracing creative, eccentric and marginal behavior. It consequently attracted a diverse range of humanity, all bent in some fashion. Styles that attracted attention uptown or in the suburbs were met with a jaundiced eye on South Street. The bizarre was not only accepted, it was embraced on South Street. Normal became weird. In the words of Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." If we weren’t professionals, we were damn good amateurs.

No one went to the Open Kitchen to meet women. There were none. Turk didn’t ban them, he just did nothing to encourage their patronage. He didn’t really encourage anyone to frequent the place. He was more interested in making sure that irritating people stayed out. If they irked him he kicked them out with alacrity. These exclusions had nothing at all to do with race. Most of his clientele was black. He banished people from all walks of life with equanimity. The limited drink selections offered, Turk’s brusque manner and the fact that the kitchen was never open at the Open Kitchen discouraged errant tourists. It attracted a loyal clientele of cynical and grizzled veterans, all male. Anyone that frequented the place played by Turk’s rules or went elsewhere. It is only logical that women would avoid a bar owned by a proprietor with a reputation for jamming a chrome-plated 45 in someone’s face on a fairly regular basis. The Open Kitchen was an acquired taste. It was Turk’s personal fiefdom and he didn’t seem to be interested in profit. Bill Curry was primarily interested in running a profitable business. He realized that tolerance was profitable in this fringe neighborhood.

This specific evening exceeded the standards of chaos in a chaotic time period. A large group of us attended an art opening that night. I forget the exhibition and the name of the gallery but it doesn’t matter. We all agreed to meet at the Copabanana afterwards. In hindsight it was a questionable decision. Some of us had to work the next day, me for example, but immediate gratification almost always overruled good sense. The entire crew was on the charming side of drunk by the time we left the gallery. That state would prove impossible to maintain as the night wore on. Collectively we lacked basic impulse control on a good day. The odds were against this unfolding as an evening of quiet reflection considering the cast of characters and the quantity of alcohol consumed. Although we operated in the shadows of the culture industry, this was not a group of gentile aesthetes and dilettantes. Drunk, our behavior was reminiscent of orangutans on unauthorized leave from the zoo. Any gains we made within the art system were immediately erased by transgressive acts. We repeatedly snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory. If good behavior was the price of success, it was much too high a price to pay given our disinterest in the game and our contempt for rules.

Our tactics were more street than salon. One night in the Khyber I was at the urinal taking a piss and some fucking idiot said to me, "Oh, you’re Michael Macfeat, the guy who paints the crazy things and does the crazy things." I punched him in the mouth, zipped up and returned to the bar.

Most of the exhibiting artists and our friends went to the Copabanana that evening. My father and his friend Rocco were at the exhibition and they decided to join us for cocktails. It was not unusual for Al to socialize with us. He was always up for a few drinks and the pursuit of pleasure. In fact pleasure was his sole motivation in life. To their credit, none of my friends’ fathers behaved like Al. He was a unique individual and often not in a good way.

My father was fun to go out with although growing up with him was a nightmare. He was good company and charming. It made it easier to forgive his faults. On the other hand he was also a larcenous bastard. If it wasn’t screwed down he would steal it. If it was he brought a screwdriver. He could be quite entertaining and he was generous when he had the means. Al would never let any of us pay for anything when we went out. Considering the limited funds at my disposal it would have been self-defeating to refuse his largesse. He wouldn’t come around if he didn’t have cash. As is often the case with gamblers, his finances were tied to his luck so he wasn’t around much. His absences lasted long enough to ensure he would be welcomed back.

His friend Rocco was no stranger. Rocco always carried a pistol with him although I was never sure why he felt the need. He was a rather large man and quite capable of handling himself without it. He made no display of the weapon but the gun sometimes created an unmistakable bulge under his clothing. Hanging around with Rocco taught me to look for signals that a man was armed. Despite the firearm, Rocco was gregarious and a fun to be around. His gun was an accepted fact, like his size. Certainly no one had the balls to question him about the pistol.

Once inside the Copa, Rocco and my father insisted on paying for everyone’s drinks. It became an expensive night for those two spendthrifts. A rather large entourage followed us to the bar and took full advantage of the offer. From experience, I knew that these displays of wild extravagance usually meant that a scam or a bet had born fruit. Apparently they both reaped the benefits of some lucrative caper since they were squandering money like drunken stock brokers with expense accounts. I knew that these windfall profits often came at some else’s expense. Some unseen loser was probably back in New Jersey, licking his wounds and cursing his bad luck. Fuck it. Free drinks were free drinks. I learned to ignore the source of Al’s funds. It wasn’t worth wasting time thinking about it.

Funded by their (presumably) ill gotten gains, multiple cocktails began piling up on both floors for our pleasure. Free cocktails might sound lovely in the abstract but in reality they almost always prove to be a mistake. Paying for drinks sometimes helps one keep excessive spending in perspective; not always but sometimes. Considering the Rogues Gallery in the Copa that night, excess was preordained. The drinks were free but they certainly did nothing to promote good behavior in this group of errant primates.

Fueled by the seemingly endless flow of alcohol, the evening began its slow descent into anarchy. People went between floors in search of some anticipated but indefinable amusement. Both floors had multiple cocktails at our disposal so these migrations weren’t for entertainment purposes only. Fortunately I had a good relationship with the manager of the bar so she left us to our own devices. She had incredible eyes, large and mesmerizing. Granted, I was easily mesmerized back then.

One of the women from our group took umbrage to something or another (either real or imagined) and noisily stormed out of the bar. She had a reputation for pulling a Houdini when drunk. We had all seen this routine before and knew that pursuit was an exercise in futility. I wish I could forget who she was. She later claimed to walk back to New Jersey over the Ben Franklin Bridge. An attractive woman surviving an evening stroll through the city of Camden was unimaginable. Camden led the nation in per capita murders. At the time it was one of the most lawless cities in America and it remains so. Whether this trek actually happened or not was irrelevant. Fact and fiction blurred on evenings such as these. At any rate, no one batted an eye about the sudden departure. It was old hat and it meant more free alcohol for the rest of us.

My father, quite inebriated by this time, got it into his thick skull that one of our friends was pregnant. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. She was just a big-boned girl. Understandably, my father’s comments horrified her. At an early age men are trained to avoid asking about a woman’s weight and age. It wasn’t as if Al didn’t have extensive experience with the opposite sex. His success with women was legendary. Unfortunately his common sense and discretion went south this particular evening. Either he forgot or he just didn’t give a fuck, I am not sure which. Al didn’t stop at one comment about her perceived delicate condition. Oh no, he went on and on about it. If only he made these comments behind her back it would have been less embarrassing for everyone. He was quite direct in his interrogation and he was relentless. Al spent an excruciating amount of time trying to get her to confess to being pregnant. It was the height of absurdity for a man who would confess to nothing, even when caught red handed, would have the audacity to demand a confession from anyone else. Whatever his motivation, he was tenacious. With the singularity of mind that drunks often exhibit he was fixated on the subject. This horror-show went on for what felt like an eternity. Graced with the attention span of a two year old, Al tired of the game and moved on to the other equally absurd delusions.

To deflect the poor girl’s attention away from my father’s abuse, a close friend asked the girl for her telephone number. Her mood brightened at the prospect of potential romance with this handsome rake. I knew that this bastard had no intention of ever calling her (in fact he never did) but she felt a bit better about herself, however fleetingly.

Cocktails flowed without end, an alcoholic version of the nearby Delaware River. Whatever decorum we could muster was simply to ensure that it continued unabated. Kevin, our friend Mike and I retired to the upstairs bar. It was less crowded up there and I needed a break from my father’s lunacy. It was obvious that our luck couldn’t hold out forever. As inevitable and unwelcome as my hangover the next day, my father and Rocco were bound to notice our absence. In much too short a time they did.

At the opposite end of the bar was an attractive woman sitting by herself and wearing a white fur coat. She was a few years older than Kevin and I but that was irrelevant. Her style wasn’t right, it was much too flashy. Her wardrobe was all shiny and sparkly, like a human disco ball. Her clothes identified her as a South Philadelphia native. Their style signified a certain attitude and told us that we couldn’t get there from here. From across the bar it was obvious that it was a clash of sensibilities. The stylistic soundtrack was the Clash’s White Riot at our end of the bar and It’s Raining Men at the other. She looked like a materialistic pain in the ass. Never one to fight battles that I couldn’t win I settled into my Tanqueray and tonics and let sleeping dogs lie.

Unfortunately not everyone followed my prudent example. Rocco and Al gravitated to her. They still lived some low rent Rat Pack version of the past. Contemporary clues held little meaning to them. Even if they understood the clues, as far as they were concerned they were free to ignore them. In that sense they were anarchists. They did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted as long as their funds held out. They began chatting her up as if either of them had a chance with her. The fucked up thing is that from a cursory glance it appeared that they might. Either she enjoyed the company which was hard to imagine or she was plying them for drinks, a more likely scenario. It was impossible for me to care. These two clowns were on a mission and it was best to leave it alone. I kept one eye on the conversation as one does passing an accident on the other side of the highway. I didn’t really want to see the carnage but it was fascinating on some morbid level. I was disinterested in hearing the actual conversation. It was bound to be all lies and I had heard enough of the sound of my father’s voice for one evening. She was physically fit so at least Al wouldn’t ask her if she was pregnant. That provided me some small comfort.

My father could be exceptionally charming when he saw fit to make the effort. His guile with women was legendary and taken for granted. It was unthinkable to leave my girlfriends with him for any length of time. Even if he didn’t snake me it was in the realm of the possible. He was that charming, that devious and his wiles with women were unaffected by any wide age discrepancy. The woman had as much chance as a wounded zebra run to ground by a hyena. Al could never be trusted with women or money. He was treacherous on both fronts.

Kevin, our friend Mike and I were at the near end of the bar still practicing our drinking. It was going pretty well if oblivion was the goal. We were regulars at the bar so we were familiar with the bartender. He and I had a mutual interest in Soldier of Fortune magazine. We had little else in common so the discussion usually began and ended on that topic. He wasn’t a bad guy but he was wound a bit too tight. If I remember correctly he was also in a twelve step program, which at the time I perceived as a symptom of insanity. His interest in the magazine far exceeded my own, however. He was short but he actually aspired to become a mercenary. That seemed nuts to me but it didn’t matter. He took care of us, we took care of him and if the conversation lagged we could always discuss the engineering merits and dependability of the AK47. Even drinks on the house have a price. My curiosity about Soldier of Fortune concerned the international politics that kept mercenaries employed. I also used the magazine as source material in my artwork. Occasionally an article about the Irish Republican Army would appear but I had no fucking desire to join them. It never hurt to have a friendly bartender in your corner so I finessed the conversations as best I could. I did suspect that he was nuts and that one day he might explode into a one man orgy of violence so I kept a respectful distance.

He came over to our end of the bar but not to bring us drinks or talk about Soldier of Fortune. As an avid gun enthusiast he probably noticed the tell-tale lump under Rocco’s shirt. He said quietly, "You know the woman that those two older guys are talking to? She isn’t what they think she is." We weren’t entirely sure what he meant. In my case I was drunk and my powers of deduction were as impaired as the rest of me. She looked presentable from a distance if you could ignore her sense of style. If the implication was that she was a prostitute, I doubted that either Rocco or my dad would perceive that as a negative. Perhaps things would be less complicated for the three of them if they had crime in common. "Is she a working girl?" He replied in a whisper, "No, she’s a transvestite." Kevin and I swiveled our heads to our right in unison. A more critical analysis of this changeling confirmed his assessment. Curiously, these two drunken reprobates seemed completely oblivious to the situation at hand, despite having a closer view of her. This could not end well. As was often the case with Mike, he was in the Men’s Room at the crucial moment and missed the bartender’s warning.

In the process of writing this, I considered the possibility that Kevin and I had overreacted and had misread the threat assessment. That doesn’t explain the two pirates chatted her up but God knows what the fuck they were talking about. It didn’t look to us like they knew the score but maybe they did. Perhaps Al and Rocco found the conversation comical. It seemed plausible. I am so often wrong that I never discount the possibility. The situation seemed to us to have all of the ingredients of a perfect storm.

I brought the subject up with Kevin recently for the first time in years. I asked him for his general impression of the evening. He said, "Fuck, I was just glad that no one got shot." My later and more benevolent analysis of the situation began to crumble with his answer but I pressed on. "Kevin, is it possible that we were overreacting and that Al and Rocco knew that they were talking to a transvestite?" "No man" he said, "not a fucking chance." I asked him a question that I knew, if answered contrary to my revisionist theory, would collapse the whole theoretical house of cards that I hoped to construct. "You don’t really think that they would have shot her, do you?" "As drunk as those two idiots were that night? I’m certain of it. There is plenty about that evening I don’t remember but I do remember being relieved that no one got shot." His view reinforced my original fear that we had been staring into the dark abyss of violence.

Despite being hedonists, both Al and Rocco were old school and ignorant of the subtler developments in contemporary social mores. We decided that it would be wrong to withhold the truth. There was a possibility that nothing would happen if we left them to their own devices but we didn’t trust fate. I hoped that no one would get shot but on the other hand they were quite drunk. Getting hit over the head with a gun or thrown down a flight of stairs would be enough of a disaster. Rocco was always sociable but an underlying violence lurked beneath his affable demeanor. He was a criminal, after all, or he would not have been running around with my father. He was also quite large, drunk and armed. If the shit hit the fan with Rocco there was fuck-all Kevin and I could do about it. We were experienced at fighting in tandem but there was nothing two hyenas could do against a drunk and armed mastodon.

Our friend Mike was useless in violent situations. He had a quick tongue, a bad attitude and nothing to back either quality up. He was also a functional junkie. His indiscretions may have been the result of his habit or an inability to maintain it at times. It wasn’t unusual to get drawn into fights due to Mike’s rapier wit and his inability or unwillingness to fight. Just a few weeks before he stood idly by and watched a close friend of ours take a hellacious beating at the hands of four men. Michael could watch his friends get pummeled but his friends couldn’t, even knowing that he was wrong and deserved a severe ass kicking. It ran contrary to code, whether he ascribed to it or not. Although he was smart and funny, he was a liability at worst and no help at his best. He couldn’t be trusted so our only option was to leave him out of it.

My father’s temper was inescapable growing up. He never hit me until I was sixteen and I returned the favor by hitting him over the head with a lamp. He did act violently toward others, however. He was 6′ 1" tall and rangy. Once he dove across the bar at Hannigan’s (at 69th and Ludlow, across from the Tower Theater) and strangled a customer until the man croaked an apology. Al was in his fifties at the time. His speed and brutality amazed me. I never heard what precipitated the attack but it may have been a gambling debt. The poor bastard had no chance. He was probably as shocked as I was. I couldn’t trust Al not to be violent if he felt provoked.

Kevin and I were aware that our intervention might have a negative effect. They were behaving themselves at present but the truth could potentially upset this convivial equilibrium. Al and Rocco were very drunk and past the point of reason. Two drunken reprobates, a pistol and a transvestite seemed a recipe for disaster.

We got a lucky break. Rocco and my father lacked focus in their drunken state. They eventually headed downstairs in pursuit of new and improved entertainment. Had the transvestite had lost her luster? There was no way of knowing. Kevin and I weighed our options and we decided that they all sucked. We felt that the situation needed to be addressed before they reversed field. With any luck they would be too drunk, too complacent and too lazy to go back upstairs after getting the news. By the time we located the two bastards their condition had noticeably deteriorated. They were talking and laughing loudly and it was hard to get a word in edgewise. We eventually found an opening and explained the situation as diplomatically as possible. To our horror they rebuffed us. They acted like we were nuts! They told us to fuck off and dismissed us like insolent children. Is it possible that they knew that they were dealing with a shape-shifter? These two hooligans were inscrutable at the best of times so it was difficult to determine what they knew or didn’t know. People whose professions demand deception learn to present a blank expression.

We truly had no qualms concerning the sexual predilection of the transvestite. We lacked morals ourselves so her morality was not in question. No one faulted her for running her game for free drinks if that’s what she was doing. Each to their own. Live and let live. The problem was that these two drunks were capable of losing their minds and we were unable to influence them. The other problem was my own inebriated state. It made my threat analysis (and everything else) a bit suspect.

After our failed attempt at disaster control we returned to the upstairs bar. Perhaps we would have better luck with the third party in this bizarre triangle. Once upstairs, the first thing that we noticed was that our buddy Mike had changed seats. He was now at the far end of the bar and engaged in witty repartee with the transvestite. We did not fucking need another complication at that moment. Now we had to explain the situation to this ass-clown before we approached Miss Thing with a plan. We went to the far end of the bar and shoehorned ourselves into their conversation. At close quarters her artifice of deception paled considerably, maybe it was the Adam’s apple. One of us distracted the transvestite while the other debriefed Mike. He took the news surprisingly well. He took it too well in fact. He said he didn’t care what she was, he was having fun and that we should leave him the fuck alone. That was the third person to tell us to fuck off in ten minutes and it was getting a bit tedious. Imparting the truth to these three fools was a thankless job. It was not unusual for a quiet evening on the town to turn into a three ring circus. This night had no hopes of being a quiet evening from jump street considering the personnel. Kevin and I were not very experienced at calming situations down. We were much better at escalation. Everyone else in the equation had by this time made it very clear that they thought we were assholes. Of course they were right. We were assholes, just not for the reasons that they thought we were assholes. We had good intentions even if our analysis and strategy sucked ass.

With Mike (somewhat) sorted or at least informed, we turned our attention to this obscure object of desire. We explained that her lifestyle choices were of no concern to us. We applauded her courage to pursue her dreams. We had no issues with transvestites whatsoever. Our only concern was that the two mature gents might not act so maturely if push came to shove. All we wanted was to avoid trouble, trouble that could result in the expulsion from a favored watering hole and/or arrest. She smiled slyly and cooed, "I can take care of myself." We retorted, "Uh…no you fucking can’t." We explained that these two old gents were not exactly docile and at least one of them had a concealed weapon. They were much too drunk to expect even semi-rational behavior from them. Rocco and Al weren’t exactly enlightened individuals. We strongly advised her a change of venue, at least temporarily. After a brief period of resistance she agreed to leave after we offered her cash. How much cash it took to get rid of her is lost in the black hole of memory. She exited through the door on the first floor, still resplendent in fur and glitter. She was a spectacle, an artificial Christmas tree walking in high heels. Despite the small size of the bar, Al and Rocco were too plastered to even notice her flamboyant exit.

We had no further contact with the Al and Rocco that night and the subject was too bizarre to bring up later. They were so drunk that it is possible that they forgot by morning. I am surprised that I remember as much as I do about the incident. After our objective was reached I lost interest in the matter. Problem solved. It was as if she never existed. At least we thought that was true until we spoke to Mike again.

He berated us for causing her to leave. "I liked her," he whined about his loss like a Catholic school girl with skinned knees. Kevin and I just looked at each other in disbelief, shook our heads and walked away. Actually, we didn’t give a fuck if Mike left with her or not. That was his business. He was an odd bird anyway. We were simply trying to protect her from the other two fools. Their breed of dinosaur was nearly extinct but they were still dangerous. Neither of them were particularly forward thinking in the realm of sexual politics or any other politics for that matter. We solved the problem by paying her off but now Mike was bitching. Fuck him. I fought enough fights for that little bastard that he should have been more appreciative of our efforts, even if he disagreed with the results or our approach. I repressed the urge to backhand him.

There was nothing left for us to do now but resume our cocktail consumption. Memory abandons me beyond this point. The trip home is a complete mystery. I am quite sure that I didn’t walk. It was enough of a challenge to remain upright in that state. I was so drunk that I had as much chance of flying as I did driving home. I would have crashed the car before I ever got in it.

Defying even my own optimistic and delusional expectations I reported for work the next day, late and hungover as fuck. If I wasn’t still drunk I might have called out sick. I was usually in trouble on this job for various serial indiscretions. It must have been pretty damn important for me to show up or I doubt I would have made it. Although drunk on the morning drive I negotiated it without incident.

When I got near the job I stopped at a roadside stand for a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on a long roll. It was my Saturday morning ritual. My boss always brought his shit-bag dog to work, an untrained an intact male Vizsla. It was red and it had a pronounced knot on the top of its head that made it look as stupid as it actually was. I love dogs but I couldn’t stand this fucking cur. If you didn’t protect yourself it would jump up on you and smack you right in the balls. I spent the majority of every working day with my hand covering my crotch. It isn’t a good look and it makes a lousy first impression. People familiar with the dog understood. Most of our regular customers came in holding their packages as a defensive tactic. It must have looked weird seeing everyone standing around clutching their yarbles. The dog was relentless and would jump up if you made eye contact. It happened all day long. I smacked it on multiple occasions. With no one else reinforcing the discipline and partly due to the dog’s sub-par intelligence it had no affect. Training the useless piece of shit would have helped but my boss felt that training and spaying a dog violated its freedom. He preferred his dogs in a near feral state. I can only think of one other dog that I hated this much. I preferred dogs that bit me to dogs that punched me in the testicles on the regular. But the dog was the least of my problems that morning. I was hungover and insanely hungry. I proceeded to unwrap my sandwich and attack it voraciously. While taking an order from a customer, I foolishly dropped the hand holding the sandwich to my side. The Vizsla swiped it right out of my hand! I lost it!

I am not proud of it now but I punched the dog as hard as I could, right on its bumpy noggin. It fell to the floor as if shot. It remained unconscious for a few seconds. Until that moment I had no idea that it was possible to knock a dog out. Fortunately my boss was in his office when this happened. He eventually came out to investigate the clamor but he was on the phone with a customer at the time of the incident. When he finally got to the counter the dog had recovered enough to stand up but it was wobbling on its long, skinny legs. Although vertical it was still on queer street. I admitted that I smacked the dog but I didn’t tell him that I knocked it out. He knew that my version of the story lacked credibility but, to the Visla’s credit, the dog never ratted me out and I did not get fired. Not two minutes after things had calmed down the dog jumped up and tried to smack me in the nuts. I was beginning to feel besieged. As the day droned on the hangover escalated. It was unbearable. I was too hungover to even eat lunch. Unlike large chunks the previous twenty-four hours, the memory of the hangover remains quite vivid.

Around 11:00 the business phone rang and I reluctantly answered it. I had no interest in speaking to anyone, let alone our bone-head customers. It wasn’t a customer though, it was a collect call from a jail in Atlantic City. I accepted the charges. It was difficult to predict the morning getting any worse but it did. My father was on the phone. He was still so fucked up that it was impossible to understand a word he said. It literally sounded to me like he was speaking Chinese. Al was laughing maniacally through the entire unintelligible conversation. There was no laughing on my end of the phone at all. I was hungover, irritable, hungry and I had just knocked a fucking dog out. I didn’t need any more challenges to my patience. These two clowns were a pain in the ass. The old man really pissed me off by speaking in tongues. Gibberish was totally unacceptable in my fragile condition. Without pointing out his linguistic failure, I asked him if Rocco was available to speak. Fortunately Rocco got on the phone and was slightly more coherent than my father. He said that they had been arrested in Atlantic City. I shuddered to imagine their long drive there. They were both post-verbal before they left the bar! How could either of them have driven for an hour in that condition? Now they had a plan and to my horror the plan involved me. They wanted me to leave work, drive to Atlantic City and post bail for them. The idea was ludicrous. I had no desire to see either them anytime soon let alone be responsible for their release from jail. I felt sick. I also had no ready cash after the previous night of debauchery, despite the fact that the drinks were free. Either I was a very sporty tipper the night before or I gave all of my money away in tips and bribes or I lost all of it on the barroom floor. The reason for my poverty was a moot point. It didn’t matter why. I was flat broke. I spent my last few dollars on a sandwich that had been scarfed up by a dog as useless as tits on a bull.

There was only one option as far as I was concerned. I told them to go fuck themselves, sleep it off in the drunk tank and come up with a plan that did not involve me. I had neither the desire nor the wherewithal to pick them up. I had no compassion for them whatsoever. I was penniless. They got arrested on their own merits. They could get themselves bailed out the same way. Jail seemed like a swell place for those two jerk-offs. Fuck you. No.

Later I asked my father about the arrest. Neither he nor Rocco would talk about it. To this day I don’t know what happened. It didn’t make sense that they would stonewall me over a simple DUI. They were quite open about far more scandalous matters. The only thing they volunteered was that Rocco’s uncle bailed them out. Whatever the reason for their incarceration, there was never any talk of a court appearance and neither of them ever became long term guests of the state of New Jersey. Perhaps Rocco’s uncle had connections. It is useless to speculate. They are both dead and the truth died with them.

Every once in a while I would ask Al about it, just to see if he if he would let his guard down and come clean. Sometimes I brought it up just to break his balls. My father discussed the events preceding the arrest but never directly about the arrest itself. It amazed me that he had any memories of the night at all. Over a period of years he steadfastly refused to give me a straight answer. This was no surprise, Getting the truth out of my father was like collecting rain water with a sieve. It was an act of abject futility.

Obfuscation and evasiveness were my father’s forte. He was impossible to pin down. It was useless to pursue a topic with him once the nonsense started. He would give you irrelevant answers as long as you had the stamina to ask pertinent questions. Lying was a tool to him, like a weed-whacker or a hammer. I am sure that the Atlantic City police quickly tired of his machinations and found his bullshit annoying but their contact with him was relatively brief compared to mine. I grew up with him and share his DNA. Both of these concepts are sobering.

Michael Macfeat 12/24/12

Posted by Michael Macfeat on 2013-02-06 21:19:13

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Mountains And Storms: My Adventure in Patagonia

“There are still places in the world that you can go and experience absolute silence. Stillness of nature.”

My last actual holiday (outside of work) was back in New Zealand. All too often I find myself dreaming of the mountains and craving that feeling of standing on the edge of the world, most likely with tear-stained cheeks. It is hard to disconnect from work and take a ‘holiday.’ It is hard to consciously make a decision to put my camera down and separate the two, to allow myself to just be. I’ve spent countless hours over the years photographing this sublime world. Often choosing adventure filled destinations where I simply couldn’t just leave my camera behind. And so, the cycle continues.

I remember last year, I was standing with my friend Will Patino in Port Macquarie in New South Wales, Australia. We were on a job together and in the midst of one of our many deep life chats. Will told me about his upcoming solo trip to Patagonia to scout for one of his workshops. Before he even finished saying the words, I interrupted with ‘I REALLY WANNA GO THERE!’  Patagonia: a dream destination for me. That ‘why don’t you just come to the workshop?’ conversation turned into me packing my bags less than a year later and leaving with two people I consider my dear friends, work colleagues and some of the people I admire most in this world, Will and Lauren Bath. But nothing could have really prepared me for the adventure, or rollercoaster, that was my trip to Patagonia…

  First stop was Buenos Aires, otherwise known as BA, and considered the gateway to South America. Lauren and I left the Gold Coast, boarded via Brisbane, onwards to Auckland and made the final route to BA with Air New Zealand’s business class.  I love Air New Zealand as an airline and experiencing business class felt like a real treat and the beginning of a real holiday. For all the traveling I do with my job, I never fly business and it was nice to arrive in a country and feel rested, at least until the onset of jet-lagged knocked us all around. I’ve been to Buenos Aires before on my way to Columbia, but it was a stopover and not somewhere I had a chance to explore. I’ve written so many times how I am not a city girl, but honestly BA surprised me.

After a few days of incredible food, nightlife and the occasional nigh time tango, it was time for us to move onto our final destination. Our time in BA alone was worth the trip alone, however the adventure was just beginning….

We caught our flight from BA to El Calafate. I couldn’t sleep the night before, likely still jet-lagged, but mostly excited. I had my head stuck to the window the entire plane flight (sit on the right hand side going down) as the tears literally rolled down my cheeks at my first glimpse of the Patagonian Andes piercing through the thick layer of clouds. I couldn’t believe my eyes at the turquoise blue of the glacial water. The scale here, from the sky, was expansive.

When picking up the car that Will had hired for the next 10 days of adventure I was dancing around in the car park, freezing already but unable to control every particle inside me screaming and moving for joy.

P A T A G O N I A.

South America’s Gem; an undiscovered paradise for adventurous trekkers. Where nature is wild, remote, barren. Space so expanding, that silence engulfs it.

After a night in the cute little town of El Calafate, our epic crew ( Will, Lauren, Davey, Ben, Grace, Nick) set off around 3am, bleary-eyed and yet still hopeful Patagonia’s notorious weather would hold out.

After the three hour drive, I found myself away from the group, standing alone at the top of the road towards El Chaltén, literally almost getting blown over by the sheer force of the Patagonian wind, left speechless by the explosion of pink in the sky as the sun rose behind me. Facing the towering granite peaks of the Patagonian Andes with my heart exploding, I caught my first, very brief glimpse of Mt Fitz Roy before the clouds swallowed it up.

Little did I know that would be the first and only glimpse of the infamous peaks that soar over El Chaltén.

I was prepared for all the elements. But I wasn’t prepared for this…

The worst window of weather in 7 years.

Some of the most beautiful mountains in the world, the most vast, incredible landscapes, those iconic mountains I’d grown up dreaming of, the vibrant turning autumn colours were all just out of reach. The roads were flooded and closed, although we tried a few hikes despite the weather, the chill got into our bones and our clothes soaking wet.

Disheartened. Devastated. Discouraged.

We left the town of El Chaltén without so much as unrolling our sleeping mats, my camping food uneaten, my tent still inside my suitcase – completely dry….

Photographically speaking, I’ve crafted a life by making sure I was in the right place at the right time, and I’d dreamed of visiting this place since I first laid eyes on an image of it. That image was burning in the back of my brain as I stood exactly where it was created and could not see a single thing. There were tears, but of frustration this time. For two weeks leading up to this trip, I was looking at stories being shared of picture perfect weather, so this felt like some sort of cosmic message, a form of universal rejection.

It was another lesson on letting go. I firmly believe that expectation is the root of all evil. If you can learn to let go and leave your expectations behind, that is when the real adventure starts. No this wasn’t what I pictured, it wasn’t even close to what I dreamed of, but I was happy. What a privilege it is to have the ability to travel and explore a new country, to open yourself up to new enriching experiences and create lifelong memories with new hearts.

Travel is about the experiences, about finding a shift in your perspective and stepping outside of your comfort zone. Although what I came to Patagonia for did not eventuate in full, it is not all doom and gloom.

The picture I just painted through my disappointment in the circumstances, and the emotional rollercoaster that was brewing in my heart and mind, is not the only story of our trip. I often ponder the detriments of social media’s highlight reel and how I may contribute to only sharing the final or “hero” images, as always I want to be transparent about all emotions – about the life of one that is on the road.

That week I met some of my idols. I was in a small town with world class photographers and there were only a few cafes and restaurants open (due to shoulder season) so I ended up at the same places, sharing meals and sitting with the same glass of Malbec. These very photographers paved the way to do what I do and I have spent countless hours pouring over their work, studying and learning from them and now I was there, in real life, having a conversation (about the weather) with them.  Wow!

We were a determined group and spent our days attempting to trek in the rain. Even in thick overcast weather the autumn leaves still burned so irresistibly vibrant, we saw Canyon Falls rushing and when it began snowing around us it felt like we were in some kind of wonderland.  How lucky we were to be there. Just to spend hours waiting in the cold for the smallest window and chance to see an opening in the sky. I’ll never take the sky for granted again, and I didn’t realize I ever had until this experience.

And yet, still the story was far from over..

Upon arrival at the breath-taking Perito Moreno Glacier we were greeted by the thundering echo of a chunk of the electric blue glacial tongue breaking off the 70m face, crumbling and plummeting down causing waves bigger than 20m below. Right place, right time? I think we just found it.

The tears were frozen to my cheeks. I wore a smile that spanned from one ear to another. We all stood together in disbelief, simultaneously exclaiming a series of “WOAH” whilst holding onto our heads, hearts and each other. The significance of this moment I will remember forever.

* For those interested in some nature froth: The Perito Moreno Glacier is in a state of equilibrium meaning it’s advancing as fast as it’s declining. This ice field is the third largest reserve of fresh water in the world (only 3 % of all water on our planet is fresh). Glaciers are a climate regulator, which means they keep our beautiful planet cool by reflecting back 45 to 85 percent of the sunlight.

From here we leaned forward to the next crazy adventure and began driving the 6 hours south towards Chile, where it felt as though our luck had started to change before our very eyes.

Crossing through the border security was an event, or interesting spectacle, with seven photographers all carrying a camera bag and suitcase each. However, as we stepped foot into my 30th country I recall feeling an overwhelming sense of immense gratitude. I had unintentionally made it to 30 countries before turning 30. Over the years I have worked really hard, sacrificed a lot and have been incredible lucky at the same time. I wrote an Instagram story thanking those of you who follow my journey (and my little feet) around the world. I truly feel so grateful for you.

Good road-trips often evoke buried emotions; I was deep in thought contemplating life and why I do what I do despite the loneliness, sleeplessness and stress at times. There is of course the undeniable connection with nature and love of sharing the beauty of the natural world. Deep in thoughts of the full circle of nature to our very existence, wandering down into the life I have created through photography and the interplay with seeking the light – for even on the gloomiest of days there is light. And then, there it was – the light – towering before me in all its ancient wild and rugged glory; the Patagonia Andes of Torres Del Paine National Park.

A simple reminder, a gentle nudge from the universe that we travel for more than just photography. It is all about those moments that take your breath away.

I am left, again, feeling breathless, humbled.

    This is everything I ever dreamed of.  Writing this right now sends a shiver up my spine as my body erupts in goosebumps thinking of those majestic glaciers and mysteriously carved mountains, which were formed over 12 million years ago. It felt like it would be completely natural to see a dinosaur stroll past me (of the herbivore kind of course!)

The emptiness was impressive, those jagged peaks and the ruthless terrain, pristine turquoise rivers; I was worlds away from anything I have ever known and I couldn’t have been more captivated.

I’ll forever cherish the memories of us here watching the sunset together by the edge of the lake, trekking by star light and opening up to the most unexplainable beauty I have ever seen. Beauty that can only be seen with the eye and felt with the heart.

Those days consumed me. Everywhere I looked was something larger than life, be it in the smile of a stranger along the path, the waterfalls, the autumn flora, the cheekiness of the infamous locals Guanaco (Chilean Alpacas) or just me feeling so small beneath the most dramatic scenes on the planet.

The Three Towers hike will remain a mental and physical challenge that I proudly accomplished. Due to the weather, this trail only opened for one day in the 3 weeks prior, so we slept under the stars and woke up at 3:30am to take the chance for sunrise. An 18km return hike and 4 hr steep incline was among the most challenging hikes of my life. It was my first snow hike and at times I was falling into waste deep snow, laughing hysterically, cold and soaking wet. But we made it and right on sunrise.

Looking back now I’m still speechless, the scale of what I witnessed is indescribable. Those three striking granite Towers above the glacial lake are higher than two of the tallest buildings in the world stacked on top of each other.

It changed me.

  When I really fall in love with a place, I struggle to look at the photos…for months. I feel like I will never be able do something so beautiful justice. I struggle to write about it, or even to collect my thoughts. How do you capture the way your heart feels like it’s going to burst through your chest? To put emotions into a single image? How does one convey the feeling when your eyes become wide, child-like, and fill up with tears that don’t break, as your smile is frozen breathlessly across your face and your legs are quivering, burning so deeply, but every part of your being is SO alive.

Travel turns you into a storyteller. It opens your heart and mind in more ways than one. It invites you to seek the beauty, find the light and never let go of hope.

To me, it’s a chance to learn about yourself, who you are and what you want from life. It allows you to see how different the world is and to put your life in perspective. When you remove yourself from your life back home, you’re able to take time to reflect and see things in your life a little differently.

Going to leave you with my favourite quote – “To live is the rarest thing in the world Most people exist that is all “ – Oscar Wilde

Don’t stop dreaming, don’t stop exploring. Don’t stop living.

A version of this blog post originally appeared on Melissa Findley’s website. 

Follow Melissa Findley on her Instagram and Facebook. 

  The post Mountains And Storms: My Adventure in Patagonia appeared first on Resource.

[tortuga-aak]

America will survive Trump, but it won't ever be the same

Kevin Lamarque/Reuters

President Donald Trump has not carried most of the promises from his campaign.

Even if he wants to achieve more of his agenda, he doesn't know how to do it.

His unethical administration is either staffed by people who were have since resigned or who try to contain him.

Trump has exacerbated the already divided United States by continuing to use class resentments, racism, and xenophobia.

  When I walked into the U.S. Embassy in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, this summer, I was struck by the glowering portrait hanging in the lobby. Donald Trump is president? It seems like something out of a dystopian film. But it's not science fiction; it's reality. Exactly a year ago, the voters of America, in their dubious wisdom, choose the reality TV star and real estate mogul as our 45th chief executive.

I, like most people — including probably Trump himself — was shocked by the outcome. Actually "shocked" is far too mild a word for what I felt. Poleaxed is more like it. I went to bed late on the evening of Nov. 8, 2016, in a daze, incredulous that my fellow citizens could elect a man so unqualified for the presidency and fearful of what he would do in office. The past year has been both better and worse than I anticipated.

It has been better in that Trump has not actually carried out most of his lunatic campaign rhetoric. He has not ordered the torture of terrorist suspects. He has not pulled out troops from Japan, South Korea, or Germany even though those countries have not increased their subsidies for U.S. protection. He has not launched a trade war with China even though our trade deficit with China has only grown over the past year. He has not tried seriously to get Mexico to pay for his border wall; even Congress is unlikely to fund it. He has not lifted sanctions on Russia or reached a grand bargain with Russian President Vladimir Putin. He has not "locked up" Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton. He has pulled out of the Trans-Pacific Partnership and the Paris climate accord, and he decertified the Iranian nuclear deal, but NAFTA is still standing — for now.

He has moved us closer to war with Iran and North Korea, but the bombs haven't started falling — yet.

Trump supporters can argue that he is more moderate in practice than his rhetoric would suggest. There's an element of truth in this, but the more compelling explanation for his failure to make good on his promises is threefold.

First, Trump doesn't really believe in much beyond his own awesomeness. He didn't run for office to get anything done; he ran to stoke his own ego and pad his own bank account by increasing his visibility. Thus he would say outrageous stuff on the campaign trail, contradict himself 30 seconds later, and immediately segue to some non sequitur. He didn't mean a lot of what he said — it was just something to rouse the rubes at rallies.

Carlos Barria/Reuters

Second, Trump has been utterly incompetent. Even if he wants to achieve more of his agenda, he doesn't know how to do it. As Daniel Dale of the Toronto Star puts it, he "talks like a strongman" but governs like a "weak man." Maybe tax reform will get done — maybe — but so far he hasn't signed a single major piece of legislation. Actually that's not quite true: Congress did pass a law strengthening sanctions against Russia over the administration's protests. Aside from a Supreme Court appointment, the only things Trump has succeeded in accomplishing are those he can do by executive order, thus doing on a far larger scale what he once criticized Obama for.

The third reason why Trump has gotten so little done is that he's surrounded by people who, by and large, don't share his xenophobic, isolationist, protectionist "America First" outlook. Most of those who did — Michael Flynn, Steve Bannon, Sebastian Gorka — have been forced out because they were incompetent crackpots. Lacking any interest in ideas, Trump has staffed his administration with people based largely on superficial criteria such as appearance. That helps to explain why most of his senior appointees, including Rex Tillerson, James Mattis, John Kelly, H.R. McMaster, and now Jerome Powell as Federal Reserve chairman, look as if they are straight out of central casting. It also explains why former United Nations Ambassador John Bolton didn't snare a job: Trump was said not to like his mustache. As a result, Trump is surrounded by aides who view him as a screwball to be contained, not a sage to be followed.

So does that mean Trump's presidency has been just swell, as his fans claim? Not at all. In important respects, Trump has been worse than I imagined. If the past year has done anything, it has dispelled naive hopes that he would grow in office or become more presidential. He's the same old Trump that he was for the previous 70 years: ignorant, petulant, unethical, avaricious, conspiratorial, nasty, shameless, bullying, egomaniacal.

One of the salient features of his presidency has been its lack of ethics. His former campaign manager Paul Manafort has been indicted on charges of money laundering, and former national security advisor Michael Flynn is said to be on the verge of indictment for acting as an unregistered foreign agent. Many of the president's men, and even the president himself, had undisclosed business dealings with Russia, ranging from Trump's attempts to build a Trump Tower in Moscow during the campaign to Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross's continuing investment in a shipping firm closely tied to the Kremlin. Trump and his aides, including Attorney General Jeff Sessions, have also consistently lied about their dealings with Russia. Former Trump foreign-policy advisor George Papadopoulos pled guilty to deceiving the FBI about his Kremlin ties; others may follow.

Russia aside, Trump uses his office to promote his own properties in violation of the emoluments clause of the Constitution. He has refused to disclose his tax returns as every president has done more than 40 years. And while private-sector figures from Harvey Weinstein to Michael Oreskes are being fired for sexual harassment, the president remains in office despite credible accusations of misconduct from at least 16 women. Trump himself basically admitted to the allegations in his infamous "grab ‘em by the pussy" video, but now the White House press secretary shamefully labels his accusers as liars. The real liar, of course, is Trump himself. According to the Washington Post, during his first 263 days in office, he made 1,318 false or misleading claims. That's an average of five falsehoods a day.

Trump presides over what is easily the least ethical administration since Nixon's — and in all likelihood "Don the Con" will be judged by history to be a great deal worse than "Tricky Dick." The major difference between them? Nixon sought to subvert the rule of law in private. Trump does it out in the open for all to see.

It has become routine for the president to demand criminal investigations of his political opponents based on, so to speak, trumped-up charges (Donald Trump Jr. even accuses the Clintons of murder); to call for the broadcast licenses of critical media outlets to be revoked; to attack the special counsel investigating him; to impugn the FBI, the judiciary, and the Justice Department; and to suggest that his own attorney general should resign for not doing his political bidding. Granted, most of these threats have been empty ones — but not all. Trump did fire FBI Director James Comey in a blatant attempt to obstruct justice. Moreover, his very words — coming from the man charged with ensuring "that the laws be faithfully executed" — corrode trust in our legal system.

When Trump is not undermining the rule of law, he is demeaning the presidency and embarrassing the country. Trump uses Twitter to carry out unseemly vendettas against Gold Star parents, the mayors of London and San Juan, lawmakers from "Liddle" Bob Corker (R-Tenn.) to "Pocahontas" Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.), journalists from those at the "failing New York Times" to "Crazy" Mika Brzezinski, and an endless array of other targets, many of them women and minorities. Trump's tweets are frequently vituperative and full of errors in spelling and grammar. They sound as if they are coming from a mental institution, not from the White House.

What most troubles me about Trump's presidency is the extent to which he is dividing Americans by race and ethnicity in service to his own political ambitions. Having won with overwhelming support among white, working-class voters, Trump notoriously hesitates to criticize white supremacists: He thought there were "very fine people" on both sides at the white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, and he has defended Confederate statues as part of "our heritage." When white killers go on a rampage, as they did recently in Las Vegas and Sutherland Springs, Texas, Trump labels it a tragedy about which there is little to be done beyond "thoughts and prayers."

Brian Snyder/Reuters

By contrast, he exploits every terrorist act committed by a Muslim, such as the Halloween attack in New York, labeling the perpetrators "animals" and calling for Draconian immigration restrictions. He has gone on an extended tirade against the African-American football players who kneel when the national anthem is played to protest police brutality. He has pardoned racist former Sheriff Joe Arpaio. And he has revoked the executive order that former President Barack Obama used to protect "Dreamers" — immigrants brought to America illegally as children — from deportation. Sadly, other Republican office-seekers, such as gubernatorial candidate Ed Gillespie in Virginia and Senate candidate Roy Moore in Alabama, have imitated Trump's noxious example by seeking to rally white voters with blatantly racial appeals. Gillespie failed, but that won't stop other Trump imitators from trying their luck.

Trump took a divided nation and instead of trying to heal those divisions, he has exacerbated them. A Boston Globe reporter who traveled to York County, Pennsylvania, an area that Trump won, found that "the class resentments, racism, and xenophobia that became flashpoints during the election have hardened, not healed."

And that's what Trump has done in just the year since he won the presidency. Imagine what the next three years — or, God forbid, the next seven years — will hold. The United States will survive Trump, but we won't be the same nation after him. The very fact that much of his misconduct is now so routine that it's hardly noteworthy indicates his success in, as former Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan (D-N.Y.) put it, "defining deviancy down." Far from making America "great again," he is reducing a once-great country to his tawdry level.

NOW WATCH: Here's what losing weight does to your body and brain

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[mitchbattros]

First Observations Of Merging Neutron Stars Mark A New Era In Astronomy

After LIGO detected gravitational waves from the merger of two neutron stars, the race was on to detect a visible counterpart, because unlike the colliding black holes responsible for LIGO's four previous detections, this event was expected to produce an explosion of visible light. A small team led by UCSC was the first to find the source of the gravitational waves, capturing the first images of the event with the Swope Telescope in Chile.

Two months ago, the Advanced Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory (LIGO) notified astronomers around the world of the possible detection of gravitational waves from the merger of two neutron stars. From that moment on August 17, the race was on to detect a visible counterpart, because unlike the colliding black holes responsible for LIGO's four previous detections of gravitational waves, this event was expected to produce a brilliant explosion of visible light and other types of radiation. A small team led by Ryan Foley, an assistant professor of astronomy and astrophysics at UC Santa Cruz, was the first to find the source of the gravitational waves, located in a galaxy 130 million light-years away called NGC 4993. Foley's team captured the first images of the event with the 1-meter Swope Telescope at the Carnegie Institution's Las Campanas Observatory in Chile. "This is a huge discovery," Foley said. "We're finally connecting these two different ways of looking at the universe, observing the same thing in light and gravitational waves, and for that alone this is a landmark event. It's like being able to see and hear something at the same time." Theoretical astrophysicist Enrico Ramirez-Ruiz, professor and chair of astronomy and astrophysics at UC Santa Cruz and a member of Foley's team, said the observations have opened a new window into understanding the physics of neutron star mergers. Among other things, the results could resolve a hotly debated question about the origins of gold and other heavy elements in the universe, which Ramirez-Ruiz has been studying for years. "I think this can prove our idea that most of these elements are made in neutron star mergers," he said. "We are seeing the heavy elements like gold and platinum being made in real time." Foley's team is publishing four papers October 16 in Science based on their observations and analysis, as well as three papers in Astrophysical Journal Letters, and they are coauthors of several more papers in Nature and other journals, including two major papers led by the LIGO collaboration. The key Science papers include one presenting the discovery of the first optical counterpart to a gravitational wave source, led by UCSC graduate student David Coulter, and another, led by postdoctoral fellow Charles Kilpatrick, presenting a state-of-the-art comparison of the observations with theoretical models to confirm that it was a neutron-star merger. Two other Science papers were led by Foley's collaborators at the Carnegie Institution for Science. By coincidence, the LIGO detection came on the final day of a scientific workshop on "Astrophysics with gravitational wave detections," which Ramirez-Ruiz had organized at the Niels Bohr Institute in Copenhagen and where Foley had just given a talk. "I wish we had filmed Ryan's talk, because he was so gloomy about our chances to observe a neutron star merger," Ramirez-Ruiz said. "But then he went on to outline his strategy, and it was that strategy that enabled his team to find it before anyone else." Foley's strategy involved prioritizing the galaxies within the search field indicated by the LIGO team, targeting those most likely to harbor binary pairs of neutron stars, and getting as many of those galaxies as possible into each field of view. Other teams covered the search field more methodically, "like mowing the lawn," Foley said. His team found the source in the ninth field they observed, after waiting 10 hours for the sun to set in Chile. "As soon as the sun went down, we started looking," Foley said. "By finding it as quickly as we did, we were able to build up a really nice data set." He noted that the source was bright enough to have been seen by amateur astronomers, and it likely would have been visible from Africa hours before it was visible in Chile. Gamma rays emitted by the neutron star merger were detected by the Fermi Gamma-ray Space Telescope at nearly the same time as the gravitational waves, but the Fermi data gave no better information about the location of the source than LIGO did. Foley's team took the first image of the optical source 11 hours after the LIGO detection and, after confirming their discovery, announced it to the astronomy community an hour later. Dozens of other teams quickly followed up with observations from other telescopes. Foley's team also obtained the first spectra of the source with the Magellan Telescopes at Carnegie's Las Campanas Observatory. The gravitational wave source was named GW170817, and the optical source was named Swope Supernova Survey 2017a (SSS17a). By about seven days later, the source had faded and could no longer be detected in visible light. While it was visible, however, astronomers were able to gather a treasure trove of data on this extraordinary astrophysical phenomenon. "It's such a rich data set, the amount of science to come from this one thing is incredible," Ramirez-Ruiz said. Neutron stars are among the most exotic forms of matter in the universe, consisting almost entirely of neutrons and so dense that a sugar cube of neutron star material would weigh about a billion tons. The violent merger of two neutron stars ejects a huge amount of this neutron-rich material, powering the synthesis of heavy elements in a process called rapid neutron capture, or the "r-process." The radiation this emits looks nothing like an ordinary supernova or exploding star. Astrophysicists like Ramirez-Ruiz have developed numerical models to predict what such an event, called a kilonova, would look like, but this is the first time one has actually been observed in such detail. Kilpatrick said the data fit remarkably well with the predictions of theoretical models. "It doesn't look like anything we've ever seen before," he said. "It got very bright very quickly, then started fading rapidly, changing from blue to red as it cooled down. It's completely unprecedented." A theoretical synthesis of data from across the spectrum, from radio waves to gamma rays, was led by Ariadna Murguia-Berthier, a graduate student working with Ramirez-Ruiz, and published in Astrophysical Journal Letters, providing a coherent theoretical framework for understanding the full range of observations. Their analysis indicates, for example, that the merger triggered a relativistic jet (material moving at near the speed of light) that generated the gamma-ray burst, while matter torn from the merger system and ejected at lower speeds drove the r-process and the kilonova emissions at ultraviolet, optical, and infrared wavelengths. Ramirez-Ruiz has calculated that a single neutron-star merger can generate an amount of gold equal to the mass of Jupiter. The team's calculations of heavy element production by SSS17a suggest that neutron star mergers can account for about half of all the elements heavier than iron in the universe. The detection came just one week before the end of LIGO's second observing run, which had begun in November 2016. Foley was in Copenhagen, taking advantage of his one afternoon off to visit Tivoli Gardens with his partner, when he got a text from Coulter alerting him to the LIGO detection. At first, he thought it was a joke, but soon he was pedaling his bicycle madly back to the University of Copenhagen to begin working with his team on a detailed search plan. "It was crazy. We barely got it done, but our team was incredible and it all came together," Foley said. "We got lucky, but luck favors the prepared, and we were ready." Foley's team at UC Santa Cruz includes Ramirez-Ruiz, Coulter, Kilpatrick, Murguia-Berthier, professor of astronomy and astrophysics J. Xavier Prochaska, postdoctoral researcher Yen-Chen Pan, and graduate students Matthew Siebert, Cesar Rojas-Bravo and Enia Xhakaj. Other team members include Maria Drout, Ben Shappee, and Tony Piro at the Observatories of the Carnegie Institution for Science; UC Berkeley astronomer Daniel Kasen; and Armin Rest at the Space Telescope Science Institute. Their team is called the One-Meter, Two-Hemisphere (1M2H) Collaboration because they use two one-meter telescopes, one in each hemisphere: the Nickel Telescope at UC's Lick Observatory and Carnegie's Swope Telescope in Chile. The UCSC group is supported in part by the National Science Foundation, Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation, Heising-Simons Foundation, and Kavli Foundation; fellowships for Foley and Ramirez-Ruiz from the David and Lucile Packard Foundation and for Foley from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation; a Niels Bohr Professorship for Ramirez-Ruiz from the Danish National Research Foundation; and the UC Institute for Mexico and the United States (UC MEXUS). Read the full article