#and another reel about the scams of marriage

[ano-po]

The creepy thing about instagram and God is that I would think of an idea, just inside my mind, and then later I would see a reel telling me why it's a bad idea.

[presentmicscocksleeve]

~♡Cult Leader♡~

Yandere Cult Leader Present Mic x She/Her Reader

~♡ Minor Injuries to Reader, Held Captive, Age Difference Mentioned/Implied {but can easily be ignored}, Tied up, Violence, Blood, Attempted Forced Marriage, Reader In Wedding Dress, Cruel but Loving Yandere, Death Mentioned, Needles/Shot, Lobotomy By 'Medical Professional', Cult/Twisted Religion, Fear, Just fucked shit♡~ Please let me know if I missed something that you think should be in the warnings

~♡♡♡~

A branch snagged the bottom of your dress as you ran frantically through the dark woods and forced you back with a yank. For a moment your heart dropped as you thought someone from the search party had caught you.

"I think I heard something that way!"

And there was your reminder, you didn't have time to stand around. You yanked on your wedding dress until the whole bottom came off. When you started running again, it was much lighter now thankfully. But that was only one problem solved. The sharp pebbles and broken sticks digging into your bare feet nor the mud that got into those open wounds was another probable entirely but you did your best to ignore it, to focus on the nothing but getting away. To escape this hell!  Not the burning of your lungs or the fact you can feel your heart beating against your chest as you try to quite your heavy breaths. Adrinellen and fear pushed you forward.

You could see their torches threw your tear-blurred eyes, you could hear them calling out to you over in the distance over your frantic sharp breaths in and out. You knew they were getting close, but you were also close to the road you'd only heard about from outsiders. You just need to make it to the road and you'll get away. You'll be free. He'll pay.

But it wasn't to be, as you were grabbed and jerked back by a hand on your tricep "I got 'er!" 

Another man came over and grabbed your other arm, the two began dragging you back to the town in the clearing no matter how hard you shoved the heels of your feet into the ground, thrashed, and screamed. Trying to bite or hit did nothing but make them move faster toward your hell. You saw the lights of the things the outsider called cars! You had almost made it! You couldn't help but let the pitiful tears escape your eyes as you could do nothing but watch your freedom slowly get further and further away.

"You're a brainwashed jackass!" You spoke to your father as he with the other guy's help dragged you back to town. He said nothing back to you, just kept looking forward as he pulled you along in the dim light of the torches the men around carried.

.♡♡♡.

Dragged right through the town and into 'The Temple' as the people you once considered your friends, hell your family, all watched and whispered with pity in their eyes. But that pity was not for you, it was for your future husband.  Once inside you were forced to sit and tied down to a chair already out and ready for your capture.

"What!?" You screamed at the men and 'nuns' who came around to help "You want me to repent!? Get rebaptized in his name!? Well, you can fucking forget that shit! This is a scam and he's a fraud! He's no divine being! He's a crazy-"

You were slapped so hard your head reeled to the side, the coppery taste of blood filled your mouth "Dont speak of The Grand One in such a way you tainted bitch! You are lucky to be chosen out of everyone here to be his wife and this is how you thank him for that!?" That man who helped your father screamed as you got your bearings. You were still a bit confused when they all dropped to their knees and bowed, so you didn't realize what was going on until you heard his voice. Hizashi, or as they and at one point you yourself called him, The Grand One finally came into your line of view "I came as soon as I heard she was brought back! Im so glad she's safe now darling, you had us all so worried." He spoke with sweetness, but the sweetness you use on a dog, not a person. He was talking down to you like you were less than him. And it made you sick.

"Who was it that got her?" Your father slowly stood "Me, oh Grand One. Just as you prophesied she took to the woods trying to make it to the portal to the outside world. She almost did too, but I got her just in time." Hizashi smiled, grabbing your dad's shoulder to give him a small shake, and the fangirl of a man looked like he could explode after that "Your wife has already been rewarded for being the one to birth to my bride but now I shall make sure your whole family is rewarded. You are all dismissed for now though." 

Hizashi then turned, cupping your face and giving it a once-over as his eyes darkened  "Tsk." From the way everyone stopped dead in their tracks you'd think that tsk was a gunshot, echoing around the room. "And who did this to her?" He jerked your face so that the people in the room could see the forming welp of a handprint. Slowly the man stepped forward, practically shaking in his boots. He looked ready to piss himself "She was mouthing off-" He was cut off by Hizashi backhanding him too hard he stumbled back, hitting one of the pews with the back of his knees causing him to falling onto his back on the ground "Did I give you permission to speak!?"

"N-No grand one." He placed his boot hard down onto the man's chest causing him to grunt. He already sounded hurt but this must be even worse "I also didn't give you permission to filthy her skin with your anger. Yet you did both of those things. You could have been rewarded but now, oh now you'll be put to death for your insolence." Two other members dragged him off screaming as they all rushed out of the church, all but two 'nuns' who were standing away from everyone doing their jobs. When you two were 'alone' he frowned at your 'self-inflicted' wounds from running away "You poor thing-"

"Dont fucking pity me you bastard! Im gonna get out of here and tell the police all about you and what you're doing here! Then you'll finally pay!" He shook his head at you "The outside world had brought evil into my town, I can see that now. Letting those lost hikers coming in out of the rain has come back to haunt me, they've brought darkness into my paradise. Into you, this anger is misguided. You should be upset at them, for corrupting everything we had."

He turned to the two 'nuns' and whistled to get their attention "Sisters, please put her to sleep and then get her cleaned up for me." They nodded and rushed out, quickly rushing back in with a needle "No! Get the fuck away from me!" You trashed about in the chair, trying to bite and swing as that woman grabbed you, shoving the needle into your neck. It took a good few minutes but eventually, you began to fade out of conciseness with dread in the pit in your stomach.

.♡♡♡.

"Oh, would you look at that? Sleeping beauty is awake." It took you several moments to come fully back to reality. And the more you realized the worse your panic became. Tied down to a bed in the 'hospital' and gagged. From all the equipment around you it was clear this was a room in the surgery ward. You tried to struggle but nurses quickly tightened your binds as the gag was replaced with a mask by the doctor. 

No! You began trying harder as the gas began to enter through the mask. The gas is meant to knock people out. Hizashi himself held your head and the mask so you couldn't shake it off "It's alright my dear bride. You're having trouble settling into your new role. I understand, marriage can be scary, especially for someone so young. Im just getting you the help you need." 

You struggled till the moment you went fully under.

.♡♡♡.

Hizashi smiled as he took a tissue and wiped a bit of drool from your mouth "You'll mess up your pretty dress like that love, sit up love." "Mmm."

~♡♡♡~

1399 Words

[notsosilentsister]

White Lotus ending spoilers

I feel like someone waking up after a night of debauchery - head still reeling, a little bit sick, a little bit embarrassed (I was so obsessed with trying to guess the ending and mostly completely wrong), but also kinda amazed. What a ride!

The ending really had everything one might hope for in a White Lotus ending - senseless tragedy (Tanya dying in an accident after having successfully defended herself), reaffirmation of the status quo (all the initial couples leaving together, even Portia and Albie), enabled by not too small a dosis of cynicism (the corruption of Harper and Ethan to the ways of Daphne and Cameron), people learning all the wrong lessons (this time about the healing, marriage kitting effect of lying and cheating), and also moments of grace (Valentina reinstating Rocco, getting over fruitless pining, ready to explore her sexuality more fully; Lucia and Mia living it up in Sicily). There's once again a fair lack of any poetic justice (Quentin and his co-conspirators had it coming, but Greg might still get away with it; at any rate, we don't get to see his come-uppance), but in a way, that feels right. Honest. Poetic justice can be a very dangerous idea. Too much poetic justice could have ruined the happy ending for Lucia and Mia, so I'm not missing it too much. Of course all my own theories were extremly off, because I was too keen on seeing something bad happen to Cameron, which made me read into all kind of things (Hunting clues to guess the ending of TV-shows in line with my worldview is my Q-Anon). Him getting merely punched felt a bit anti-climactic. Acting like nothing happened at dinner does make him seem like a sociopath, but also, I guess, the guy can take a punch. He seemed so wonderfully serene floating in the water, after the other tourist had to stop Ethan from drowning him. Probably just revelling in his victory, having clearly gotten under Ethan's skin. Or maybe just at peace with getting his just deserts. There are fairly awful people who are still capable of thinking, "Guess I had it coming", and Cameron might be one of them. I think I was also a bit too desperate to see Daphne as more in control than she ultimately turned out to be. Sure she succeeds in persuading both Harper and Ethan of the empowering effects of adultery, but since she apparently didn't have much of an ulterior motive after all, she wasn't exactly doing herself much of a favour with that, at least in Harper's case. She seemed genuinely upset at the idea of Cameron and Harper. And that makes all her previous interactions with Harper seem more genuine too - she was really just trying to share her wisdom with another woman. In many ways, the ending vindicates her - the couple's waning sex life is reinvigorated; the moor's head, the symbol of tragedy resulting from deception, is shattered; these deceptions won't end in death. You can cheat and get away with it. Someone suggested above that Ethan and Harper won't wear it as well as Cameron and Daphne - but I think those two are not wearing it too well either. Daphne may be the one least disturbed, most aware of the rules - but to me, she's also the saddest of the four, the most resigned. These secrets she shared with Harper weren't part of a scam after all, but a genuine attempt at bonding, revealing genuine cracks in the facade, with genuine pathos shining through. It's clear to me that she has to work very hard to keep up the veneer.

[unlicensedlobotomist]

Caged Larks Do Not Sing

Chapter 2- Caller ID

(ao3 link)

Previous chapter ~ Next Chapter

WARNING: Depictions of violence, major character death

Mornings like these were the kind Saihara liked. It was quiet, the sun was warm and his coffee tasted good. It wasn’t rare having a quiet morning like this: most people didn’t come in till around ten or eleven. He had wondered if he should change his hours of nine to five to eleven to seven.

He wanted to say he hated being a detective, but that wasn’t exactly a true statement. He didn’t like his job, he was unhappy more often than not with it. Saihara had always wished he could find the inspiration to love his work, to have a passion for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to do either. He was passionate about the elements of his work. He loved mystery, he loved solving puzzles and putting pieces together.

He hated what those pieces could do to real human lives.

It stressed him out, trying to figure out a way to tell a wife her husband not only had a mistress but also had 3 other marriages, each with their own set of children. Then to tell a young man that the company he invested in was not only fake, but was actually his friend scamming him for millions. Saihara never felt anyone left his office happier than when they came.

Most final meetings ended in screaming. Saihara had learned over the years to not take them as personally as he did in his youth. They aren’t actually mad at you, his therapist had once told him. They’re upset at their own unhappiness. Saihara had made sure to tell himself that whenever someone cut too deep with their words. He’d just let them yell, nodding and saying “I understand how upsetting this is, I can refer you to some of my contacts on how to proceed.” Most of the time, he’d be taken up on the offer, other times he’d be cursed at further for insinuating they couldn't handle this on their own.

Mysteries were so much simpler in books; and solving those mysteries didn't hurt anyone real, and they were fun. His uncle had once suggested that he try writing, and he had, but he fell short on creativity. Not only that, but the action of sitting at his desk and trying to type out a short story just made him think of his father. He decided writing was simply not something he was up to.

So he sat in his office instead. Waiting for a client to call or walk in and disturb the serenity of the room.

Saihara wished someone with a lost cat would walk in once and awhile. His uncle used to have him deal with those cases a lot in middle school, and more often than not he found a very upset cat who had gotten out and had been trying to get back in. His uncle thought those cases were beneath him as a serious detective, but they made Saihara happy.

He also wished that once in a while a friend would walk through the door and invite him out to lunch. That hadn't happened in years, though-- it wasn't that he didn't have friends, but… everyone had lives. Many friends he had made over the years had disappeared with time-- some had moved, while others had just lost contact. It made him sad, but he knew it was inevitable in some sense. People change, friends move on, the world spins.

He remembered a post someone once shared on social media. It had said a study had found people could have 150 friends at a time. Saihara didn't believe that. No one could have more than say… ten, or maybe twenty friends. Saihara had a hard enough time keeping track of five people, two of which were his own aunt and uncle.

Saihara stood from his desk chair, going to the kitchenette in the corner of the office to retrieve another cup of coffee. He had no cases to attend and thus had taken to, more or less, messing around in his office for the day. He had expected at least two calls today-- a divorce lawyer and a high school classmate.

The lawyer, who he periodically sent clients to, had wanted to discuss his recent case. He was nice to chat to, but he rarely saw him outside of his office. Once in awhile, they would go out to dinner as a thank you to Saihara for getting so much evidence. He was a decent man, Saihara would even call him a friend on some occasions, but they didn’t talk often enough to solidify such a relationship.

Then there was his classmate. Every Saturday, he would look forward to the familiar ringtone of his personal cell. They would sometimes only be able to talk for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours, but it was always an enjoyable time for him. Often times, he had found himself silently listening to the words. The vibrant energy was something Saihara looked forward to, they embellished the most mundane of activities and made them sound exciting that even he couldn’t help but see wonder in the simple acts. He wished he could be closer, and hear everything in person. Phone calls were the best he could do though, and Saihara enjoyed every minute of them.

Saihara had been half way through pouring his coffee when his cell rang through the office. Odd, he thought as he sipped at the lukewarm drink. This is pretty early for a call. He shrugged it off though, figuring maybe his friend was busy later that day and this was the best time to call. He made his way quickly over to desk, retrieving the flip phone from his coat pocket in a practiced fashion and opening it to his ear.

“Akamatsu, how is Berlin-”

“Huh? It’s Kaito. Shuichi, Listen, I… I need your help.”

-----

That Friday night had become a blur, and Momota’s was still reeling over it. He had laid down onto the metal bunk of the cell to try and lessen his headache, both from the approaching hangover and he mess he found himself in. He was still trying to figure out what had occurred.

Momota had stared at Ouma’s body for what seemed like forever. He lie so still underneath the kotatsu, Momota was certain what he was looking at was a wax figure. Carefully, he leaned down into the bloody mess, his pants soaking in the top layer of gore that had yet to dry onto the hardwood.  His mind went blank for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to do. All his astronaut training and he wasn’t sure what to do. He carefully laid his hand onto Ouma’s cheek and…

It still felt warm.

Anger rose in Momota’s chest, glaring with disgust at the body on the floor. “This… This isn’t a funny joke, Kokichi!! You can’t… You ruined this blanket with this cheap shit!!” He received no response to his shouts, which only made him angrier. He began to violently shake Ouma. “What?! Did you fall asleep in the middle of your prank?! Wake up! It’s not funny!!” He lifted him from the floor, holding him him up by the ends of the ugly haori he wore. The once gaudy orange and green had been stained an ugly rust color. He looked him over, wanting to toss him immediately upon the sight.

“You even ruined my slippers! I really liked those!! What the hell is your problem?!” Momota tossed Ouma back onto the floor, which caused a sickening crack to be heard throughout the house. It made Momota stop, looking back down at the Ouma’s body. He… He thought Ouma would at least try to stop himself from hitting the floor so hard. He went back to the ground, carefully looking him over. “Hey, that… That sounded bad, are you okay?” Ouma continued to not respond, and concern had taken the place of anger. He shouldn’t have thrown him down like that, he could have a concussion. “Come on, Kokichi. Get up, okay? I have a first…” His hand came in contact with his cheek again, the warmth was gone. The cold sent a shock wave through Momota’s whole body.

He went to pick him back up, softly shaking him. This… was just a prank. Ouma was pranking him, like he always did. This prank had just… gone too far. “Kokichi, come on. I’m not as mad anymore, wake up.” He set him down on his back, the open flesh more visible now. “I’m going to get the first aid kit, o-okay?” Momota’s voice hitched, he got up and hurried to his kitchen, his slippers leaving bloody prints behind him.

Momota was quick, retrieving his phone from his pocket and dialing emergency services. He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, trying to keep his composure. He rushed the kitchen, not bothering to even turn on the light.

“119, what is your emergency?”

“Hello? My… Ouma, he’s really hurt. I think he was playing a prank on me, and I dropped him. He hit his head, I need paramedics!”

The conversation continued as he searched his cupboard, pulling out the first aid kit in a quick fashion that sent cups and a few other items clattering to the floor. He bent down to pick them up, only to feel wetness. He lifted the wet object to get a better look: it was one of his kitchen knives. It was odd that it was still wet, but he set it back on the counter and hurried back to Ouma. He only half listened to the operator’s instructions on how to try and help, his mind already knowing what to do even while he wasn’t fully there.

Paramedics took what felt like forever to get there. Relief fell over Momota’s features at the sight of them though, but his relief was quickly replaced by confusion. They had both stopped dead at the door frame. Their eyes stayed locked on the the world famous astronaut, leaning over the former Ultimate Supreme Leader in a blood soaked display. Momota shifted uncomfortably and had begun to stand, but had stopped mid rise. Very carefully, the head paramedic pushed the man with her to hurry to the two. She turned away, and quietly spoke into her walkie-talkie.

“I’m going to need police back up, I think this may have been a murder.”

[austinausten]

Technically, the Edinburgh Fringe was my 5th or 6th fringe festival.

My high school boyfriend took me to my first–the 2008 or 2009 Austin Fringe Festival–back before I ever thought about writing for the stage.

I’d never gotten into the Fringe spirit before. In Toronto, I go, I see a few shows, but I always feel out of place. Other friends wait for Fringe like it’s Christmas and I almost dreaded it.

Edinburgh was different.

Maybe it was the “participant” badge around my neck, the flyers for my show Transmission ready to be passed out, or the fact that I’d been waiting for this moment for THREE YEARS, but now I get it.

Listed below, in no particular order, are quick reviews of the 27 shows I saw:

Pixel Dust

The description did not appeal to me–one-woman show depicting a teenage girl’s struggles with her identity online–but the fact that it was a FuturePlay show got me in the door. Amazing physical acting coupled with projections that brought out the poetry of the story made this one of my absolute favorite shows of the Fringe.

The Poltergeist of Cockburn Lane

Wanted to fall asleep during this show, but couldn’t stop watching the boring train wreck. This light opera had fantastic source material–an actual court case where a ghost’s testimony was called–but failed to capitalize on it. A romance without the romance, it focused more on the scam artist who faked the hauntings by abusing his daughter.

Goodbear

Amazing sketch comedy. This was the only comedy show I saw at the Fringe and not my pick. But as all the sketches were located in the fictional Hotel Apre Dieu (After Life), it won me over and had me laughing so hard my cheeks hurt. Super versatile sketch comedy duo introduced us to all the guests and all the rooms in the hotel in just an hour.

Wondr

After Pixel Dust, I couldn’t wait to get back into the theater to see the alternating play. Same team, different story–this time about a single mom running the @wondrwomanuk twitter handle. The themes about how we use social to find a voice and intersectionality in feminist representation rang true–but it didn’t knock me off my feet like Pixel Dust. It didn’t have the same polish in execution or story.

Future Play VR Studio

Welcome to a dome filled with many new VR experiences, inviting you to explore. My favorites were the VR movie Dear Angelica (animated exploration of grief with Anjelica Huston and Mae Whitman as voices), The Guardian’s First Impressions (re-creating what an infant sees and hears in its first six months), and the audio mixing game Dato DUO. The most important thing I learned? The best VR movies are the ones that realize it’s no longer about creating for one POV–it’s about creating a world to explore.

Tom and Bunny Save the World

Zombie musical in a shipping container theater. It delivered on everything it promised to be–lesbians, odd British geographical humor, fake blood, and lots of gravy.

Speaking in Tongues: The Lies

Speaking in Tongues: The Truth

These two shows are acts 1 and 2 of the same Australian play. I accidentally saw them out of order, but I actually enjoyed it that way. It turned what would have been a linear play into a more abstract exploration of coupling, marriage, and fear. But the best part was the set-up: swivel chairs. The audience sat in the middle and we swiveled around to see the actors. I LOVED watching the other audience members just as much as the play. Maybe more.

Venue for Speaking in Tongues 1 & 2

Shipping container venue for Tom and Bunny

Time Machine

Really really boring one-man version of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine. It claimed to be updated for the present day, but one reference to iPhones in a museum in the future doesn’t count as an update in my book. Also wish they had played more with the shadow effect made by the lights.

A Hunger Artist

Fantastic adaptation/re-telling of Kafka’s short story through puppetry, clowning, and even some audience participation. In a world where artists must often starve themselves–or make a performance of killing themselves–in order to fund their work, this rang really true. The connection made with the audience, even before we were called up on stage, was incredible. It felt like such an intimate performance in an almost full house.

Baby Mama

I didn’t want to see this show. But I’m glad that I met the director a few days before and realized that I needed to hear Mariah’s story. One woman story-telling about how a playwright got pregnant on accident and gave her child up for adoption to a gay couple. Amazing yet subtle structuring through lighting cues made this story genuine and deeply emotional, while still feeling very conversational. And in the last few moments, I definitely happy/sad cried.

Ouija the Musical

Ethically, this one needs a lot of work. If you are going to make the setting of your horror musical the same as the venue and cast your audiences as members, then you need to make it clear that everything that happens is part of the experience. Ethics aside, this horror musical about a seriously messed up band rehearsal in Wales did scare me. As a writer, I wish they had spent a bit more time setting up the characters and their connection to the witch and her child before people started dying. But for a student production, kudos for trying something bold.

Sasquatch the Opera

Though the title might sound silly, it gave me all the serious feels. Sasquatch falls in love with the daughter of a major scam artist who abuses his children and runs fake tours to see the “Sasquatch.” Opera, when done well, can take the absurd and make it relatable. I felt for the junkie older brother, the daughter who falls in love with the Sasquatch, and with the hairy beast himself. And live music? Perfect combination for a geek like me.

Seance

Best fifteen minutes of audio theatre–maybe immersive theatre–I’ve ever experienced. 13 minutes in total darkness locked in a shipping container. 13 minutes listening to a seance go on in your head–mostly. I knew it would scare me–and I screamed within two seconds of the performance starting–but I didn’t know that it’s story and entire production would impress me so much. Solidifies what I know about horror: sound is key.

The night sky after Sasquatch

Seance!

  Jane Doe

This isn’t the play you want to go see, but it’s the play that will care for you while forcing you to take a close look at rape culture. I didn’t realize that the Taylor Swift songs playing beforehand or the romantic comedy references were part of it until the end. Haunting. But because I had the chance to respond anonymously throughout in an online survey–I felt like it was a conversation, not a slow unveiling of true horror. Theatre that does change you.

Austentatious

After re-watching Emma on Netflix and hearing British accents again, I needed more Jane Austen in my Fringe experience. So I booked a ticket to the improv show that promised to perform a “newly-discovered Jane Austen novel” every day. Literary spies popped up in “What if Jane Eyre was written by [Jane Austen]” my afternoon, as well as a cross-dressing doctor, and I loved every second of it. Plus they made fun of my suggestion, “Emma and the Purple-haired Princess”!

The Fall

We met the creator/performers of The Fall in the Assembly gardens one night and promised to attend their show. Little did I know that these students would perform the most honest depiction of protest I’ve ever seen. I’m glad I bought their script. I’m sad I can’t just re-experience their show every time the news gets me down. Grahamstown will have to be my next international fringe festival.

And Here I Am

Serendipitous offering of tickets to this one-man show, part of the Arabic focus within the Fringe, led Steph and I into a Palestinian man’s story of growing up and creating theatre outside of the West Bank. Telling his own story, Ahmed Tobasi had such energy and vibrancy. There was not a moment to breathe or doubt his experiences in prison or first forays into acting. I only wish he had slowed down some of the incredible moments. I wanted to sit in them, even the painful ones, for longer.

Mobile Cinema

Exactly what it sounds like! We settled into a movie theater in the back of a rehabilitated research van to watch news reels of Edinburgh during the first Festival and throughout history. It really did bring history to life.

Ancient Shrines and Half-Truths

New Zealand performance group Binge Culture had its own audio tour, map, and app, too–so I had to try it out. Choose-your-own adventure with a map on the provided iPhone, I listened to descriptions of a place sort of like Edinburgh but not while exploring the Meadows. It wasn’t clear enough in its distortion of reality or in communicating its expectations for audience interaction either–but for me, Ancient Shrines did cause me to pause, look at the world differently, and interact with my surroundings.

Inside the Mobile Cinema

Exploring with Binge Culture

Buzz the Musical

At first I didn’t want to go to this musical about vibrators… but afterwards, I was very satisfied with my decision. It’s the traditional boy and girl break up, girl goes through journey of growth, and then when he proposes they give it another go–she chooses the vibrator instead! Two men got up to walk out during the show, but I loved every silly minute of it from the huge clitoris puppet to the shunned scientists who study female sexuality.

Coppelia

Collage is a great way to describe this circus/dance/performance. Inspired by one act of the opera Tales of Hoffman, Coppelia re-tells the story of the mechanical doll and desire that tore everyone who saw it apart. Sitting in the circus dance, surrounded by mirrors, I couldn’t help but ooh and aah at every movement and new line of poetry. I just wish they had edited out a few references–and the filmed aspects–to focus on the emotional core they had underneath.

The North! The North!

Story-telling one-man show about a land where England has split in two and it’s up to a young man and his sister to save the world from the evil “Prince.” Again, the projections and found object set won me over with their integration into the story. The twist at the end still wasn’t quite enough to make up for the male hero-focused story, but I enjoyed my hour inside Christopher Harrison’s modern fairy tale in an old veterinary school’s dissection hall.

Mouthpiece

Sometimes you have to go halfway across the world to see a show made my Toronto artists, because you were finally ready to see it. This amazing piece of physical theatre performed so much of the grief, frustration, joy, and anger it is to be a woman right now. Thank you.

Foreign Radical

Immersive theatre experience about the way the United States categorizes people as terrorists on official lists–and the ways we are all complicit in making these judgments. It was like playing a game show, but the players were strangers and the decisions being made said so much more than winning a prize. I was horrified at how easy it was to go through someone’s luggage to find evidence of terrorism and to watch a family of four argue to put an innocent man on the terrorist list. It wasn’t the best thing I saw, or the most haunting, but I did take a lot away as an American living in Canada from this experience.

Old Stock

In a time where our world is fighting over the status and future of refugees, it was an important reminder to look at where past refugees ended up. Like the two Jewish-Romanian refugees depicted in Old Stock. Plus another shipping container set (though the audience didn’t sit in it this time) AND some mad clarinet playing. I hope this comes back to Toronto so I can share it with friends and co-workers again.

Where I saw 3 Canadian shows… in Edinburgh.

Auld Reekie Ghost and Torture Tour

If I could pick a different tour that didn’t include the torture portion, I would. Otherwise, I saw an entirely different side of Edinburgh than the vibrant, artistic collage I’d seen all week. Down in the vaults underneath the city, I learned about the dark, diseased, dangerous past for Edinburgh’s less fortunate occupants where being homeless was a crime and they punished you in so many horrible ways. Thankfully Megan held my hand when the guide took us into a pitch black room and told a story about a man with a knife waiting in the corners…

Oyster Boy

I fell asleep in a lot of shows in Edinburgh. This is the only one I don’t feel bad about. A Tim-Burton-esque story told through puppetry? I thought, Great! But since the puppet only came out for the last few minutes and the acting was meh at best and obnoxious at worst… Also, as an American maybe I don’t get the appeal, but I didn’t understand why it needed to be set on Coney Island in the 1950’s. I’m surprised this amateur show garnered such misleading stellar reviews. At least I got to play with a puppy outside beforehand.

Lula del Ray

I watched the Manuel Cinema group make a movie before my eyes. With projectors and a combination of small 2D puppets and large 3D props, I watched a little girl grow up near rockets, fall in love with rock and roll, and leave her hometown to find out what her real passions were. I have to admit that, after a long few weeks in Edinburgh, I nodded off a few times–but only because it was so relaxing, mesmerizing, and beautiful.

How to Win Against History

The last show I saw at the Edinburgh Fringe was a new musical. I’ve listened to the soundtrack again on Spotify since I’ve been home–and it still makes me smile. It retells the true story of the 5th Marquis of Anglesey who spent all of his money putting on shows in the converted family chapel, died a pauper, and was almost entirely erased from history. Oh yeah–and he liked to wear dresses. It got a little slow in the middle, too repetitious, but some of the wittiest and also most genuine lyrics I’ve heard in a long time.

Can you believe it? I look at this list and still see the hundreds of shows I didn’t get to see…

Guess this just means I need to go back!

  Stay tuned for more updates on my show, Transmission, as well as my tourist review of Edinburgh!

Photo credit at top: FuturePlay VR Studio by David Glista

  Beyond a Theatre Review: 25+ Edinburgh Fringe shows 2017 Technically, the Edinburgh Fringe was my 5th or 6th fringe festival. My high school boyfriend took me to my first--the 2008 or 2009 Austin Fringe Festival--back before I ever thought about writing for the stage.

[jerseydeanne]

romance scam

did some research and found some sources and I think I came up with a theory. I remembered Catfish Dev once talking about how the catfish “mirrors” it victims to manipulated them and create an instant sense of intimacy. The catfish in question was targeting a Louisiana soldier in Afghanistan and she’d stolen FB photos from a New Orleans girl with a brother in the Army, so she had all of these pics of a cute blonde in Saints jerseys and Army shirts posing all over New Orleans on her fake accounts. Dev said that that built an instant rapport with her victim. It reminded him of home and made it look like they had all this stuff in common and were soulmates and stuff. That reminded me of Meg’s IG and all the bracelet and hat crap.  So I started to wonder if this was all a scam. Now, when I started doing research I expected the Harkle romance to have some of the aspects of a classic romance scam, but I was bowled over when I realized that Harkle followed the exact same steps. It wasn’t just “kinda like” a scam. It was exactly like a scam.  Here are my sources.   [color=#0e6c70]https://www2.le.ac.uk/departments/media/people/monica-whitty/Whitty_romance_scam_report.pdf[/color]  [color=#0e6c70]http://www2.le.ac.uk/departments/media/people/monica-whitty/Anatomy%20of%20the%20romance%20scam_Whitty_Security%20Journal.pdf[/color]  How Harry Fell in Love with a Con Artist  Harry fits the victim profile: good-natured, non-confrontational, prior abuse, lonely. Extroverts are more vulnerable to these scams as are persons with “agreeable” personality profiles. Romantics and individuals who are thrill or sensation seekers (both of which fit Harry to a “t”) are also very vulnerable. In general the victim is “extremely motivated” to find love. This has been a running theme through Harry;s profiles. NYC also said that he’d broken up with a long-term girlfriend in March/April. So that would also fit.  Men who suffer from mental illness are particularly vulnerable, and Harry has been pretty open about his PTSD issues. So he was pretty much a perfect victim. You’d think someone like Harry would be protected from this kind of thing but apparently not.   Stage 1 of the scam is building the profile to attract the victim. Meghan didn’t build a fake profile but she adjusted her own and put up the Trudeau and Africa stuff, plus London with his friends (Misha, Markus, Violet), plus the hat and bracelets, and the Africa phone case and his mom’s watch. This stage can be as short as a month! That’s bizarre. In her case it was all through the summer.  So he’s in Africa, alone, working on his African Parks stuff and she’s texting and posting stuff about elephants, posing all over Europe with his friends in his hat and bracelet, and generally reeling him him. It’s worth noting that she was posting a LOT during the summer like twice or thrice her usual rate of posting. (ETA: This is where I think she got the bracelet. It’s the same clasp and the shop owner takes custom orders in Etsy. https://www.beadedmoonbeams.com/shop/18678735/seed-bead-bracelets)  This technique is called “mirroring.” Basically you imitate your victim (clothes, mannerism, way of speaking) to establish a bond. http://www.loveadvice.com/ARTICLES/Mirror_g.HTM  One of the many things I found confusing in this affair was how Meg’s clothes changed. Her prior style was very polished and ladylike, very much like Rachel Zane’s. Once she started dating Harry, however, her style changed form skirts and dresses to raggedy jeans, blue men’s shirts, beanies, baseball caps and even puffy jackets. Does that sound like anyone we know?  Yep, she was mirroring. Even the tabs noticed. http://www.etonline.com/news/205339_prince_harry_and_meghan_markle_are_beanie_boo_first_photo_together/  She even changed the way she “spoke,” using words like “darling” in all her posts. Remember that interview where she said that she loved how Brit men called women “darling”? Yep, more mirroring.  The article says that it only takes a couple of weeks and several victims speak of how the scammer sent them love poems and crap. Guess what Megs posted in August along with the hat, bracelet, his mom’s watch and the Africa phone case?  Love poems. https://www.instagram.com/p/BJOfic8gdJF/?taken-by=meghanmarkle  Stage 2 is “grooming.” She “falls in love” in September, very intense with lots of going back and forth. This apparently happens within a week or a couple of weeks so that fits. This is where the victim is pumped for info. This part of the relationship is described as “very therapeutic.” The victim feels understood. He probably told her everything about his family and insecurities and whatnot during this period. This is described as a “hyperpersonal relationship.” It’s like the Matrix and feels more real than a normal relationship, namely because, as in Catfish, the person doesn’t really exist. You’re in love with a construct so it’s more “perfect” than any real relationship could be. The report says that “the victims often stated that they felt closer to the fictitious relationship than any other previous relationship.” This is a running theme through Meg’s PR “they feel like they’ve known each other a long time,” “it feels natural,” etc… That’s the manipulation right there. The Witting paper says:  The victims in both studies claimed during this stage, to have self-disclosed very intimate details about their life history, often telling the scammer more about themselves than they have disclosed to any other.  I was surprised to hear that the grooming can be so effective that victims start considering marriage at this stage. Witting says:  It is during this stage that the scammer claims to love the victim and hopes for a committed, permanent relationship. The victim also often claimed to have fallen in love with the criminal or was very committed to the possibility of spending the rest of their lives with them (often making declarations of their love and commitment to family and friends).  His friends must have thought he’d gone nuts. It’s hard to believe that someone would be willing to make a lifelong commitment based on a bunch of IG posts and some texting, but this is apparently quite common.   Stage 3 is the “sting.” There’s a small “ask” for money to test the waters. This is where the victim commits to the scam.  In this case, that would be the plane ticket NYC says he bought in September. That was the first “dirty weekend” mentioned by we103. They stayed in and ordered food and she didn’t ask for much more. This meet doesn’t even show up on her IG. She gives no sign that she’s in London. She’s establishing trust at this point.  This is called the “foot-in-the-door” technique. I can’t believe this is so common that it actually has a name. Bizarre.  This is a big step because once the victim fulfills the ask, they are, so to speak, “in the bag.” Apparently, we all have a psychological need to see ourselves as “consistent” so once the victim gives even a small amount he or she is conditioned to give more. That’s why the ask is usually small. It’s just the first step.  Witting says  In our victims’ cases there is more than consistency that is the pull, but also the desire to maintain their relationships. Moreover, compliance with the first request (an investment in the relationship) could be understood to signify a greater commitment to the relationship, making it more difficult to say no to further requests.   When I NYC first said that he bought her a ticket I literally laughed out loud because Harry is a famous cheapskate. Heck, Cressie supposedly broke up with him because he would pay her ticket for Pelly’s wedding. Now here he is paying for a girl he’s shagged once?  But it fits the romance scam pattern and, I think, is indicative of how successful Meg’s social media courtship was. At the same time Meg’s in London she’s also leaking the relationship through Markus and Violet. They are just rumors at this point, but she put up Violet’s pics on her Insta in June and Misha’s pics in July and August so the reporters know she has contacts and the rumors may be legit.  Then she comes back to Toronto (more pics with Trudeau!) and there’s more texting and another “bigger” ask. The scammer is constantly trying to escalate and the money asks get bigger as they try to gauge how susceptible is the victim. In this case, however, she’s not looking for financial capital. She wants fame and social capital so she asks to be taken to places so she can meet people. That’s October. He takes her around and introduces her to his friends. At this stage she’s already leaked the relationship and the outings give her an opportunity to prove to the reporters that the rumors are real. She puts up Arthur’s dog’s pic on Insta for further “proof.” When she gets word that the relationship is going to leak to returns to Toronto and puts up the “how to be both” post and some Rwanda pics. Later she gets impatient and puts up the bracelet pic. When the Tominey article finally breaks she puts up the bananas and the teapot. Then pap walk, promo, blah, blah, blah…  Stage 4 is the “crisis.” That’s when the scammer makes up an emergency (sick kid, kidnapping, accident, whatever) and asks the victim for help, usually it’s a large amount of money but in his case it was the social validation. This is where she calls KP in a panic and lies about the reporters breaking into her home and the nightly legal battles. So she gets the statement and St. Lucia and whatnot.   The crisis is carefully crafted to appeal to the victim (sick child if the victim has kids, elderly parent if the victim is a caretaker, immigration emergency if the victim is an immigrant, etc…) This “crisis” was designed for Harry who was raised to fear and loathe reporters and probably blames them for his mother’s death. Note the fact that the KP statement mentions that her mom was harassed in her car. That wasn’t by accident. Note that she caused all of the panic by posting the spooning bananas pic and the puzzle pic and spreading rumors that Harry was at her house. There would’ve been no paparazzi frenzy around her place if she hadn’t spread those rumors through a Toronto reporter’s tweet (remember, Jess’s husband is a Toronto gossip journalist). She caused the “crisis” herself. https://twitter.com/jccordero28/status/793614962098864129 There’s lots of discussion in the articles about how the scammers use “secondary characters” like lawyers and police to build up the scam. She did the same thing with the Toronto police, the reporters, and the Roth lawyers. They were real but she exaggerated them. Her PR people were probably used in this way too. She also used bodyguards as props in her first pap walk. More theatre.  They keep playing up this stage and getting more and more. I can see her doing that “they don’t believe me I need…” “They’re still bullying me I need…"The victim is so committed at this point that they keep giving and giving. Usually they don’t get everything they ask for and they modify the request. That’s apparently the "door-in-face-technique.” According to NYC that’s what happened with Sandringham. She didn’t get to meet the Queen obviously but she got a London trip as a “modified” ask.  These were the fights during the Caribbean tour. Finally he gives in and hands her St. Lucia, the tree-trimming story, theater pap walk, probably the Soho pap walk, a promised vacation…she got tons of stuff.   Stage 5 is sexual abuse. This part surprised me.   Apparently, victims are sometimes asked to take naked pics or to put themselves in compromising positions so they can be blackmailed later. I guess that’s what happened here. Hard to believe he was that stupid but apparently it’s a tried and true technique.    Although it may not be sex at all. According to NYC she took pictures of Nottingham Cottage and KP during her December trip and he found out and freaked. That may be compromising enough and would fit the “romance scam” pattern. But given that the article mentions nude pics, that makes me wonder about those “Nott Cott” pics that supposedly caused the breakup. Maybe there’s more than furniture and drapes in those pics. Nude pics would also explain why the BRF have been so careful in handling her.   Stage 6 is the revelation which can be very traumatic. This was the Xmas fight and explains how he looked at the engagement. It’s apparently devastating and akin to losing a loved one (the person who never existed). The symptoms are similar to sexual abuse. That explains why he looks so awful.  According to the article, the “scam gradually comes to an end when the victim focuses less on rewarding aspects of the message and visceral cues and more on external cognitive cues (provided by law enforcement and loved ones).” That would be his family freaking out about what he’d done and showing him the file they’d gathered on Megs. Also, the topless photos came out on the day of the Queen’s lunch. That probably helped bring him back to reality. I know she told everyone they weren’t of her, but Harry knows what she looks like naked. Just sayin’. I think it’s interesting that once she was in London with him, the first thing they did was cut off her social media access. NYC even hinted that they may have hacked her IG account. Harry’s blocking her after NYE is also food for thought.  Most of her manipulation was through social media. I think they cut off her influence when they took that away from her.  Sometimes they’re in denial and vulnerable to a second wave of the scam. I think that’s what NYC is afraid of. I also think that’s why she remained in London, pretending to live in KP and putting out articles about India and Norway and Barbour and wellies. She was doing some more mirroring, hoping to reestablish a connection. Hopefully that didn’t work and she finally gave up and returned to Toronto.  Conclusion So there it is. I’m still fairly attached to my #bananaspandexsuitorgyblackmail theory, but I do find this very persuasive.  I have links for most of this stuff. I didn’t put them in because that would make this even longer, but if you have any questions, I’d be happy to provide supporting documentation.  

Last Edited By: aspidistra3 hours ago. Edited 3 times

This is amazing  how this was put together, blows my mind away, we are dealing with a potentially dangerous person, they have given us fair warning, the game is afoot.