#and francis has so many fucking issues about her its so funny

[daincrediblegg]

hi egg!!!! ive seen the tag a couple times now and im just so curious who is lady terror 👀 an oc? a ship personified? can i peer into your mind for a second (the answer here can also be Who's to say or just NO)

YES! Lady Terror (real name: Genevieve Sinclair) is my sortof self-insert (though she’s gained a bit more of a life of her own now) OC for the Terror. She and Francis as the most disenfranchised from british empirical thought and good society are falling horrifically in love with each other over the course of the expedition in spite of their respective past romantic rejections and dejections and it being the literal Worst Time To Do That. And I tag them when I am… reminded (I’m certain some think I do this too often… but it’s my house). I’m painfully (and soul crushingly at times) trying to get the canon novel for them written (though I have an excerpt of the first chapter in my masterlist in my pinned, should that be of interest), which intends to have the most insane gothic jane austen vibes one could hope for, and I have like 20 au’s for them including a particular western au that is gaining increasing real estate in my brain recently. Loads of content in the “egg’s oc’s” tag if you wanna take a peek (I say mostly bc I’m exclusively on mobile atm bc my computer is in the shop and linking over isn’t very easy😭) and I have some mini fics for them in my masterlist as well!

[butchdykekondraki]

HI OKAY SO this is ur invitation to ramble abt random sys stuff 👉👉 i love hearing about what Things happen /gen

-cider ✌️

OHH BOY YESS OKAY

>tammie and jay have developed an interest in fnv and so we've all three been doing tiny little movie nights where we watch video essays and lets plays of fnv

> to nobodies shock west, francis, and julie have all decided its their life goal to single-handedly keep me from changing the url or icon because theyre all gay . this is an issue when you have me, jay, and arkh who think it'd be really funny to change our url to bibleyuri and have a mary magdalene icon For Funnies

>tammie has recently decided she is going to decorate the insys structure with as many bright colours as she can find . she has so far set up streamers in my cabin, put up bean bag chairs in jays cabin for her, jay, and bore, and has put up stickers in everyone elses. we have no clue when she found the time to do this

>reese has decided hes going to start dressing as a cowboy because i keep calling him a cowboy (he has a Really thick southern accent) and he Will Not stop. tammie thinks this is hilarious and is dressing up exactly like xem

>arkh has been having a blast with ultrakill lately and claims it quote "reminds hym of before hy got chucked into our body" and will not elaborate on what hy means by that

>jay and i have recently started noticing little gifts related to our partners just Appearing in our cabins (like i found a sweater with a bunny on it and he found a duck plush) which is Interesting

>reese keeps fucking fronting during work and its accidentally scaring our coworkers (it has a staring problem) (i.e. it keeps fucking staring at people because it freaks them out)

>bore has recently started fronting more which is fun and im very proud of blood :-)

>roe keeps reading wikipedia when im trying to play ultrakill and its Incredibly distracting

i THINK thats all . all i can remember at least

[ikroah]

Don't want a real live boy, they give me grief, always make me cry into my handkerchief. So it's a robot man I'm dreamin' of because I can depend upon a robot love, yeah! —“Robot Man,” Connie Francis (1960)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #18 - Freeside II

Collaborative Issue! Guest Artist: @comrade-shrimp / @jepsxyhn

Archive Links

«« First | « Previous || Next » | Last »»

Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes

It feels so good to be back on a pretty regular production schedule! Almost as good as it feels to go a round with Fisto!

The art this ish comes from @comrade-shrimp​ (art blog: @jepsxyhn​), who did a great job with this issue, which is a lot more lighthearted than the previous one. I have so much love for them, and they brought so much necessary vibrancy to this issue; I've been wanting to experiment more with poppy, colorful backgrounds like this for a while, and they were an utter delight to work with. Everybody say “Thank you, Shrimp!” for doing such a spectacular job and for being so cool and nice.

Original Pencils (click for full size):

Since Shrimp took care of the art this time around, all I have are my original layouts for this issue, on top of which they worked their magic. These are really rough (and really old!) but I always really enjoy doing layouts like this for my guest artists. There’s definitely a certain charm to making something so intentionally loose and sketchy that still puts in as much detail as needed to get a good idea of what the final product will look like.

One minor but funny difference between my pencils and Shrimp’s art is on the third page, where Agnes is stomping away from Cass and FISTO. Originally, I had Agnes drawn with her arms thrown up in the air exasperatedly. However, when drawing at production scale, it was impossible to draw her like that without it looking like she was pretending to be an airplane and flying away.

Transcript:

INT. the run-down workshop of CERULEAN ROBOTICS in FREESIDE.

AGNES SANDS and ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY stand in front of a PROTECTRON ROBOT encased in some sort of stasis capsule or holding dock.

AGNES: No. Absolutely not.

CASS: Do you want to get to Vegas or not? The Garrets are paying us more than enough caps to get past the credit check—all we need to do is get them new blood.

AGNES: It’s a robot. It doesn’t have blood.

CASS approaches a terminal attached to the ROBOT’S dock and flourishes a tape drive.

CASS: Well blood ain’t the most important bodily fluid for its line of work going forward.

CASS inserts the tape into the terminal with a chunky SLOT! sound.

CASS: Let’s wake it up already.

The terminal screen lights up, displaying console text: Operator Interface for Fully Integrated Security Technotronic Officer. Initializing Start-Up...Calibrating Protocol...

New data flushes into the ROBOT’s system as it awakes, coming to life with a deep, growing hum.

The dock’s display pane slides away, opening up for the ROBOT to step out and onto the floor of the workshop.

ROBOT: GREETINGS...I AM FISTO...AND I AM PROGRAMMED FOR YOUR PLEASURE.

CASS: Gets right down to business, doesn’t it?

AGNES: ...“Fisto?” Did you name it that?

CASS: No, must have been part of Ralph’s tape. Creative bastard.

FISTO: PLEASE ASSUME THE POSITION.

AGNES, unnerved, starts walking away.

AGNES: Fuck, that’s...skin-crawling. Let’s just bring it back to James already, okay?

CASS: Now hang on...

AGNES turns back around, in horror.

CASS is throwing herself at FISTO like a fawning supermodel, arm playfully draped around its “shoulders” and leg hoisted up against its chassis.

CASS: Aren’t you at least a little curious as to what this thing can do for a woman?

AGNES: Fuck no!! What’s wrong with you?

CASS: Come on, Agnes, loosen up a bit!

FISTO: FISTO OFFERS GREAT COUPLES RATES.

AGNES, reflexively, hovers her trembling hand just above her holstered pistol. She speaks through gritted teeth.

AGNES: Don't you dare bring that...that thing...that literally fucking thing anywhere near me.

CASS: Suit yourself—but I'll try anything once, and I'm not passing up a freebie when I see one.

AGNES makes a furious about-face and storms away from CASS and FISTO, heading out of the building.

AGNES: Fine!! Go fuck the robot! Have fun!

CASS: Oh we will, Agnes!

FISTO: ENGAGING CLIENT...DISPENSING MASSAGE OIL... (WHHHRR...)

EXT. CERULEAN ROBOTICS.

AGNES leans against the wall across the courtyard from the workshop entrance, smoking a cigarette. From the opposite door come the sounds of FISTO’s many “functions.”

SFX: SKREEEEEE, BEEP BEEP BEEP, SMAK, CLANK CLANK CLANK, DZZZZTTTT, SPLUT

Suddenly, the sounds cease, and it’s quiet in the courtyard. AGNES looks up.

CASS emerges from the workshop door. She’s out of breath, sweaty, and her face is deeply flushed. She has to lean against the door frame just to stand up.

CASS: Oh, man, Agnes—you, uh, wouldn’t happen to have any more cigarettes, would you?

AGNES scowls.

[lovelylogans]

what are your favorite episodes of gilmore girls?

ooOOOOOOH GREAT QUESTION i’ll break it down season by season:

season one

pilot. i mean, obviously. it sets them all up so well, character-wise; plus, you can tell some episodes in season one that were filmed shortly after the pilot vs a while later, just bc of emily’s differing hair lengths

the lorelai’s first day at chilton: introduces such great characters (paris, madeline, louise) and also is such a great way to continue the transition into learning about this world

rory’s birthday parties: god. just. the stark difference between emily and richard’s world vs stars hollow...... the found family of practically all of stars hollow showing up to rory’s home party...... “lorelai’s right. i don’t know my daughter at all.”...... God

forgiveness and stuff: like, gOD. a masterclass of acting especially from kelly bishop and lauren graham; it hits so differently after edward hermann’s actual passing. luke and lorelai’s relationship displayed on what he’d do for her. lord!

paris is burning: paris................ the Beginning of turning from enemies to friends...... plus, like, you get to see some of lorelai’s commitment issues, which plays out throughout the entire series (sometimes To My Great Aggravation)

concert interruptus: the bangles 🥺paris and rory 🥺

christopher returns: i mean. you see the dynamic between rory and christopher, lorelai and christopher, and emily, richard, and christopher, which just paints such a clearer picture of what lorelai’s life might have been like back then. PLUS, emily being soft toward rory; it’s one of my fave relationship moments for them, and i kind of regret taking that line from her and giving it to christopher in wyliwf.

star crossed lovers and other strangers: the same way we get to see emily and rory, we get to see richard and lorelai; also, you can see how lorelai’s commitment issues might have inadvertently affected rory in this. plus i love love LOVE the backstory of the stars hollow lovers festival, i wish they’d repeated it in later seasons!

emily in wonderland: i really wish you’d gotten to see the effect of learning about lorelai and rory living in the shed play out more than a one-episode arc, i really wish we did, but like. emily bishop, once again, acting her damn heart out. phenomenal.

season two

the road trip to harvard: you get to see the beginnings of how rory leaving for college might affect lorelai, plus you get to see rory in her ivy league habitat. luke getting so suddenly, “inexplicably” cheerful when he hears that lorelai’s not marrying max. and at the very ending emily being sympathetic to max. bless it.

nick & nora/sid & nancy: first jess ep. “dodger.” what else is there to say. points off lorelai tho for immediately losing it at jess when he snarks at her, when, like, that is your move, lorelai, you should recognize that?

presenting lorelai gilmore: rory stepping more and more into her grandparents’ world in a way lorelai never wanted to; though i don’t ship christopher and lorelai, their dance scene is adorable. plus, emily and richard fighting a bit and the beginnings of richards (seasons long!) arc about his journey with his work.

the ins and oust of inns: MIA. you get to see mia for the first time! lorelai and sookie having a fight is :( but you get to see lorelai’s turmoil over actually leaving the inn. emily coming to see mia! luke yelling at the town over them being rude about luke! lorelai coming to his defense! rory telling jess off and jess wordlessly fixing luke’s toaster in silent apology!

the bracebridge dinner: GOD. love it. the horses and carriages! the absurd historical acting! emily and richard! rory and jess! luke and lorelai! it’s fantastic!

a-tisket, a-tasket: I LOVE THIS EPISODE. some of the town absurdity that was just A Plus. “it’s not like she’s shipping off to ‘nam!” is a great line. jackson proposing to sookie! and poor lane........

there’s the rub: emily and lorelai, seeing how great they could get along, but seeing how either of them wreck it just when it’s getting a-okay. god. it’s just such a great microcosm of their relationship.

dead uncles and vegetables: luke......... Luke. lorelai and rory and jess all rallying around him in their ways, and stars hollow by extension. even tho they were pretty shitty at first, they, like. managed to make it up to him in the end.

lorelai’s graduation day: GOD LAUREN GRAHAM, KELLY BISHOP, AND EDWARD HERMANN KILL IN THE GRADUATION SCENE!!!!! i ADORE that shot of the three of them, gets me every single time!!! the only thing i dislike about it is rory accidentally missing the graduation bc....... :/. like. i really like jess. but. come on.

i can’t get started: sookie’s wedding!!! her freaking out over the cake so much in her dress is So Her, she looked so pretty omg! plus, if the spa ep is a good microcosm of emily and lorelai, this is a great microcosm for christopher and lorelai. plus!!!! RORY AND JESS FIRST KISS!!!!!!

season three (look, full disclosure, seasons 3/4 are like. my faves. so)

haunted leg: gosh. lauren graham kills it in that last couple scenes. plus! kirk asking lorelai out on a date is hilarious! emily and lorelai’s lunch at luke’s going So Bad! and i know that not a ton of people like the francie chilton student politics intrigue subplot isn’t great for some people, but i do think that the potential was Great and there are definitely some really good scenes that arose from that subplot, so

take the deviled eggs... like. just. a great blend of town insanity (patty’s new boy, the town loner pitching a protest no one knows the reason behind) and lorelai and rory bonding (by deviled-egging jess’ CAR) and just!!! yes!!!!

they shoot gilmores, don’t they?: i mean. come ON. what list would be complete without this? literally every single favorites list has this episode on there. the dance marathon is the perfect example of town insanity! lane and dave getting their bonding! that little luke and lorelai moment about having kids! that scene of rory crying into lorelai’s shoulder!

a deep-fried korean thanksgiving: i love the whole “three thanksgivings” thing. Can Relate, Do Understand. i think that lorelai freaking out at rory for applying to yale is definitely a contrived subplot (i mean. she was never going to apply to only harvard. ma’am.) but i do like seeing sookie, and luke and jess, and just.... Yeah

dear emily and richard: our ONLY flashback ep! while i do think that only lauren graham can really pull lorelai off, the actress is, like, fairly decent (young christopher, however, does not really fit) and you just! yeah! you get to see them back in their youth and FINALLY get the context of how lorelai ran away!

the big one: like! yay paris! lorelai’s reaction (”i’ve got the good kid!”) is Gross, Frankly! it’s gross and bad! but also poor paris 🥺but!!! rory helping to comfort her afterwards!! richard falling asleep in the middle and having No idea of what just went down is also inexplicably hilarious to me!

those are strings, pinocchio: i mean. it’s the graduation episode. God. i just???? god. it’s such a great episode, there’s so many great moments, i just. 🥺

season four

the lorelais’ first day at yale: a great little titling parallel to chilton, but also, rory panicking when lorelai leaves is like. such a Thing ya know??? i just. yeah. i really like that ep it’s a nice introduction

the festival of living art: one, this show won its only emmy bc of the makeup, so that alone is great. uh, kirk being so adversary to the guy who plays judas is god tier humor! plus! sookie and jackson having their baby!

ted koppel’s big night out: THE FOOTBALL GAME EPISODE! i actually kind of love it, but more the first half than the latter; it’s such an emily and richard way to prepare for a football game, you know? and then meeting pennilyn lott! igniting the arc of emily and richard having doubts about their marriage which has Acting! Moments! but this also has jason and lorelai’s first date, which i Dislike, bc i Dislike Jason Very Much.

nag hammadi is where they found the gnostic gospels: seeing jess come back into town and you get to see how unfinished things are between him and rory..... the luke angst..... Yes.

the incredible sinking lorelais: a very realistic part of college, imo, in which you feel overwhelmed and anxious and EVERYTHING SUCKS NOW CAN I JUST CALL MY MOM, though i wish they’d set it up a bit more and followed it longer than an episode, and also that rory hadn’t gone to dean; but also, trix, and richard standing up to her, which!

scene in a mall: idk i just love this episode? seeing emily in her shopping element; seeing her break down in that way; seeing how shopping is like, one of her Only ways to execute power, and how she’s kind of jealous of lorelai’s career bc she was born into a generation where the only thing it was really acceptable for her to do was cultivate a husband and a nice house; plus!!! that last bit of emily and richard and the apples at the table just BREAKS your heart!!!

girls in bikinis, boys doin’ the twist: SPRING BREAAAAK which is so unexpected for paris and rory and therefore very funny. you get to see madeline and louise again—i actually really love their characters, lmao! paris and rory kiss! just! yeah!

tick, tick, tick, boom!/afterboom: another “idk i just enjoy it” episode. richard and floyd coming to a head; kirk’s easter egg hunt; seeing little davey. however i have some Words for rory because lindsay deserves better??? i understand that she could get a part time job but also MIND YOUR BUSINESS?????? dean’s the one taking classes! that’s an unnecessary expense! he has two jobs!! he’s allowed to take a pause!!! also i can’t believe i’m forced to defend dean right now!!! fuck asher, tho, but yay! breaking up with jason!!! yay breaking up with jason!!!!!!

luke can see her face/last week fights, this week tights: i can’t, okay??? i literally had to. the beginning of jess’ (admittedly mostly off-screen) development arc! luke and the self-help books! the absurdity of the renaissance wedding! the WEDDING DANCE!!! 

raincoats and recipes: truly an episode has never gone from such a “FUCK YESSSSSS FINALLY” scene to a “FUCK NOOOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGG” but honestly it’s just. it’s Such a fantastic episode like i can’t

season five

written in the stars: their first date 🥺the horoscope 🥺”i am in, lorelai. i am all in.” 🥺 HER GOING DOWNSTAIRS IN JUST HIS SHIRT 🥺 HIM YELLING AT THE TOWN ABOUT HOW IT’S THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS 🥺🥺🥺

we got us a pippi virgin: literally the concept alone of “nearly coming to blows via bop it” is great. also luke being like “rory is like pippi!” and showing off what a high regard he holds her in 🥺

emily says hello: LITERALLY so many great little things about this episode. emily deciding she wants to try dating! rory and christopher snapping at each other! KELLY BISHOP’S ACTING AFTER THE DATE WHEN SHE CLOSES THE DOOR ON HIM AND BURSTS INTO TEARS!!!!!!!

women of questionable morals: the dog. 

wedding bell blues: HUNDREDTH EPISODE couldn’t NOT make it on here, so here it is!!! luke and lorelai looking at each other when she’s next to the aisle! luke and christopher both yelling and logan—AcTING! also emily being so manipulative even on her second wedding day, it’s just So classically her, and kelly bishop and lauren graham in the final scene is just. Mwah!

so... good talk: rory literally stepping into lorelai’s shoes for a dinner and being the one to snap at emily and richard is Such a role reversal for her but honestly whenever it does happen i actually really enjoy seeing the dichotomy between the grandparents seeing rory as their perfect little second chance and lorelai seeing her as her mini-me and how rory walks the line between each. AND THAT ENDING KISS SCENE BETWEEN LUKE AND LORELAI????? I CAN’T?????

pulp friction: LORELAI CONTINUING TO ICE OUT EMILY AND RICHARD!!!!! the yelling scene at the diner!!!! plus seeing the chilton skirt come out again was nice imo i too have reused private schoolwear

season six (the season, admittedly, i have watched the least)

we’ve got magic to do: the outfits of the dar bash. paris’ sudden dedication to the proletariat. emily’s rant to shira. that is all

twenty-one is the loneliest number: them finally starting to talk; “this is luke, my soon-to-be-stepfather”; the pastor scene is also just. hilarious. but also so very richard and emily

let me hear your balalaikas ringing out: lorelai’s emotions toward paul anka being sick Oof and luke and the soccer team lmao but also JESS RETUUUUURNS!!!!! RORY SNAPS OUT OF IT!!!!!! FINALYYYYYYY!!!!

friday night’s alright for fighting: literally the montage of all of them intercut with fighting and them sitting in silence while the other two yell in the background to them laughing is just. Peak gilmore

this turned out..... even longer than expected lmao

[redandfranticfeelings]

What are your favorite lines and lyrics from lihn?

goddddd okay i gotta Rack My Brain but i got a lot of things that stick in my heart…it’s like midnight and i don’t have the script in front of me so i’m testing this based off what i can remember best

“cuz im too black to be indifferent but too yellow to rebel” just sets up susannah very nice also i love wordplay

i like kitty’s “whisked away like a sexually deviant princess” i just love how she Owns everything about her situation like “yep i’m here but i’m killing it!”

“america just really fucking sucks for girls” it’s not subtle at all but gosh it is a Mood!

i like judith’s short rant to susannah early on about how people hate them for being poc and girls, again it’s really on the nose but informs judith’s character well so we get why she has to act so defensive

i like the exchange where susannah’s like “weird how we all call kitty ‘she’” and sheila just matter of factly says “she asked us to” its just this very casual straightforward reminder of how easy it is even in the 1960s to respect trans women and i love it

i can’t nail down any specifics (though the cutaway with hm protesting everything but gay rights is a good example) but there’s a lot of lines from francis that show where his priorities truly lie and it’s very infuriating in a good way bc it’s soooooo true to life for so many cishet white left-wing guys of his ilk

i rlly like this from sheila in oh well: “if i tell her whats inside then i know shes gonna hide, ill be left alone here in my hell” cuz its one of the first few moments we really get vulnerability from her side and the idea that shes drawn to susannah bc shes innocent and sweet and providing honest companionship is very nice, and its sad that sheila doesnt know how to approach somebody who isnt confrontational and is afraid that anything she does would scare her away like a deer. but it also implies sheila knows susannah likes her (which, yeah, she isnt subtle at all) but knows she wouldnt be open about it, while susannah doesnt seem to pick up the signs the same way. i actually like sheila’s whole verse there and her not knowing how to phrase her feelings, it’s very Real.

i like the whole “secret language” recurring phrase wrt morse code, it ties in well with the stealth inherent in a mid-1900s gay love story (and secret codes have always been extremely important for LGBT people to connect to each other) while tying into susannah’s connection to her roots.

“this feels just like prison” “that’s cuz we’re in prison” is just a quick funny exchange in an otherwise pretty serious song

on the subject of “solitary”: it always breaks my heart to hear sheila sing “i hope she’s hurting” and then susannah sing “i hope she’s not hurting”

it’d be a crime if i omitted “do you want fries with that, judith?” from the list of best lines. kitty gets the best lines honestly i love her

i love pretty much every line in revolution in the institution but “why should we have to fit in some roles that some man we dont know defined” is a good one, not just bc of the surface level meaning (and the added context of kitty singing it given how she risked her wealthy life in order to express herself!) but bc of the sort of irony that these characters were written by a man and iirc i think iconis talked abt that issue and how despite that he worked hard with the cast and other women on the team to give them voices on their own? so i see that line as very much the characters coming to life. i also like “sugar and spice and everything nice comes at a hefty hefty price” just cuz its snappy and cool.

[antiquecompass]

So I was HOPING to have 1 complete story and 2 complete ficlets done for @warriorgays birthday today. I don’t know why I plan on anything honestly bc whenever I do my family decides it’s time for massive Home Improvement Projects which take up my days off. I wanted to get SOMETHING up for Alex’s birthday though, so here’s a very long preview of the will-not-end superbowl fic:

A lot had changed in Babe Heffron’s life since 2004. His Philly family had lost a few members, but gained a ton between new babies, a hell of a bunch of in-laws, and groups of folks that just got adopted in along the way. In those years Bill had lost an entire leg, gained a desk job, finally convinced Fran to marry his foolish ass, and started raising three kids. Ralph was an actual <i>doctor</i> now, running one of the Thibodaux Medical Clinics just outside Baton Rouge. Maggie lived with Ralph and Sid in their own place in St. Boniface, working at the clinic there and forging her own path like usual.

 And Babe?

 Babe went from being a bartender to working an actual office job for Nixon Development. He had most weekends and holidays off and a 401k and an actual accountant to handle his taxes now. He was <i>married</i> for Christ’s sake. To a friggin’ <i>doctor</i>. In Louisiana of all places. If he could’ve gone back in time and told his teenage self he’d be settled down, far away from South Philly, with some Cajun doc he’d met during Mardi Gras, he probably would’ve punched himself. He definitely would’ve called Ron to take care of his delusional evil clone.

 And there was no way, in any of his wildest dreams, he could’ve predicted having Merl-Francis as his brother-in-law.

 He was pretty fucking proud of Shelton too. Boy had gone and become a Registered Nurse. They’d done so many study sessions in the middle of the night to past that certification test. They’d held a bake sale outside the clinic to raise the $500 fee just to take that fucking test.

 Merl-Francis got it done on the first try.

 So Babe definitely couldn’t complain about how his life had turned out since last February 2004. 2018, despite the hellscape that had become the world in general, hadn’t been too bad to him so far. He was cautiously optimistic about the year, after having gotten past the normal mourning days around Christmas. It was nearing his anniversary of meeting Gene and the Eagles were in the play-offs. So yeah, things were looking bright and shiny for Babe Heffron. Sure, he was waiting for Ralph to <i>finally<i> admit he was dating Maggie, but that was more fun to watch Spina struggle to come up with excuses for why he couldn’t hang out other than ‘I’m dating your little sister.’ It was amusing as hell.

 And then fucking New England has to fuck up the good year Babe had going for him. Honestly, he should’ve expected it from the Patriots.

 “You look like you’re fixing to punch the tv,” Eugene Sledge said as he looked up from his laptop. “Please don’t. It took Snafu three different trips to pick that one out.”

 “I had to compare the specs,” Merl-Francis said through a mouth of crab dip.

 Gene slapped him. “Close your mouth. Never could take you nowhere.”

 Merl-Francis glared at him. “We at home, Gene-Baptiste. Ain’t no one here not used to me.”

 “We still don’t want to see all that,” Gene said.

 None of the men present understood Babe’s pain. It was the fucking Patriots. Again. If only Ralph and Maggie were here, instead of being all responsible and working. They didn’t get it, this group of Saints fans. They didn’t <i>know</i>.

 “You don’t understand,” Babe said.

 Sledge shrugged and went back to working on his manuscript. “You don’t like the Patriots. A lot of people don’t. Andy’s probably the only one I know who does.”

 “No,” Babe said. “It’s a rematch of Thirty-Nine. I don’t know if I can take this shit again.” He stood up and went to the small kitchen medicine cabinet. “I need all the Tums.”

 Merl-Francis smirked at him. “You got such a weak constitution.”

 “Fuck you,” Babe said as he stepped over a sleeping Kipling.

 Babe’s phone started to ring on the coffee table. Gene reached for it and frowned as he looked at the screen.

 “What?” Babe asked as he shook a handful of Tums into his hand.

 “It’s your dad,” Gene said.

 “Well, answer it,” Babe said.

 “Good evening, Mr. Heffron,” Gene greeted as he put the phone on speaker.

 Joe Heffron sighed. “Gene, when will you just call me ‘dad’?”

 “Sorry, sir,” Gene said.

 His dad sighed again. “We’ll work on it. Where’s my boy? Eating a handful of antacids?”

 “Yes,” Gene said glancing over at Babe.

 Babe made a face at both of them. It wasn’t his fault his stomach didn’t like sports-event related stress.

 “Just like his mother,” Dad said. “Once he’s done choking down chalk, tell him to call me back. We need to know when he’s coming home.”

 “What now?” Babe asked.

 “There’s my boy. You’re coming home for the Super Bowl. You can’t celebrate it <i>there</i>.” Dad paused. “No offense, boys.”

 “None taken,” Gene said.

 “Bullshit,” Merl-Francis muttered.

 His father did have a point. There was just something about Philly fans being at home around other Philly fans. Look, he knew the reputation they had in the sports world. They were the most asshole of fans who did stupid shit like climb poles and flip over cars and throw batteries at opposing pitchers and fall into the penalty box to fight a professional hockey player and booed Santa Claus once almost fifty years ago. And sure things got so bad for a time there the Eagles Court had to be established to deal with all the shit happening at games, but that had been disbanded over fifteen years ago. Despite all that, there was nothing like being around that energy. Even with the actual game in Minneapolis, Babe had to admit that he couldn’t picture watching the game anywhere else but in his parents’ living room.

 “I don’t know if I can get the time off,” Babe admitted.

 Merl-Francis laughed. “You run that office. You can give yourself some days off. Take Gene with you, he needs a vacation.”

 “I have work,” Gene said.

 “Nope, you’ve got paperwork,” Merl-Francis said. “You don’t even practice much medicine anymore, running all the Thibodaux clinics. You got Anna, Renee, Sid, and Bryan to cover your shit. Take a vacation.”

 “You forgot Spina,” Babe said.

 “Ralph and Maggie conditionally asked for the time off if the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl,” Gene said. “I already approved their vacation.”

 Merl-Francis grinned from his sprawl on the couch. “They’ll be there, Mr. Heffron.”

 “I knew I could trust you, Merriell,” he said. “You and Eugene should come up as well. You’ve got to come see our city again.”

 Merl-Francis smiled like that had been his plan all along. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

 “Fuck,” Babe muttered as he threw another couple Tums into his mouth. He eyed the economy sized bottle of Excedrin as Merl-Francis started humming an off-tune version of <i>Fly Like An Eagle</i>. As he started on the second verse Babe reached for the bottle and reminded himself to pack it for the trip to Pennsport.

 <center>**********</center>

 There was a sold period of Babe’s life where he couldn’t go back to Philly. At first it was a question of safety. In the wake of Julian’s murder—and that’s what it was even if people still didn’t want to call it that—Babe was forbidden from setting foot in the city. He couldn’t explain that to his parents, didn’t want them to know everything about Ron Speirs’ more classified business dealings or the shit Babe sometimes got mired in to make an extra buck. And the more people who knew the truth, the more lives were at risk.

 After that issue got permanently resolved, Babe couldn’t return because of his own grief. It was funny, really. Babe’s grief was they excuse they used for so long while Julian’s killers were being hunted down, that even Babe forgot there was a world of truth to it. He didn’t know how deep the roots of his grief had grown, even after years, until he was asked to return to Pennsport and had an actual fucking panic attack.

 He couldn’t make himself get on a plane back then, so they drove, and honestly? Babe didn’t know what he did in his past lives to get Gene, but he was full of immense gratitude to whatever good deeds he accomplished back then.

 After overcoming that emotional hurdle, Babe made sure to visit at least twice a year. He’d just been there back in October to welcome the latest Guarnere into the world and hadn’t planned on returning again until May.

 Babe looked through the storage bins and the closet and realized he’d probably have to buy a winter coat while he was up there. The two he’d owned had already been claimed by Gene and Merl-Francis. Sledge, ever the Boy Scout, already had his own.

 “Well that’s a nice view,” Gene said.

 Babe laughed and wiggled his ass as he leaned over the bin. “At least there’s something you still like about me.”

 “I’m just with you for the life insurance and the tax break,” Gene said.

 “Figure out how you’re going to kill me yet?” Babe asked.

 “I figured with the amount of almond milk you drink I’ll just let the cyanide do its thing. Claim you must’ve got hold of some bitter almonds and made your own homemade glass of milky poison.”

 Babe looked up and had to laugh at the evil smirk on Gene’s face. “That’s horrifically brilliant.”

 Gene shrugged. “I needed something to do at the last board meeting.”

 Gene didn’t like having to play the businessman. He liked being a doctor, it was his calling, but they both knew how important it was to him to make sure lower-income and rural areas had access to decent health care clinics. It was a never-ending battle with local governments and the more religious members of the board who didn’t want to provide free contraceptives, pregnancy tests, or rides to the few Planned Parenthood clinics still in the state, but Gene always won. It was hard to argue with him when he got <i>that</i> look on his face and <i>that</i> tone in his voice.

 “Maybe you need this vacation,” Babe said.

 Gene nodded as he walked into their bedroom. “I was thinking about going down to five days a week too. Apparently there’s benefit in taking more than one day off a week.”

 Babe almost fell on his ass. “Did I just hear you speaking actual common sense?”

 “Fuck you,” Gene said with love.

 Babe grabbed an armful of sweaters and walked over to his open suitcase. “I know what this is about. It’s because you’re turning forty next year.”

 “Fuck you,” Gene repeated. He slipped his arms around Babe’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. “You got enough clothes there?”

 “Half of these are for you,” Babe said. He leaned back into Gene’s embrace and softly laughed. “And Merl-Francis. He’s going to have ten layers on. We’ll be able to roll his ass down the street.”

 Gene laughed in agreement. “Never could fatten that boy up.” His lips were warm when the pressed against Babe’s temple. “You happy?”

 It had been on those little traditions of theirs, to ask this, in the quiet times. The answers differed at times, but it was an honest question for an honest answer.

 “So much,” Babe said. He turned his head to meet Gene’s warm gaze. “So much,” he repeated.

 <center>**********</center>

 After the job that had cost both Bill and Joe Toye a leg a piece, they’d come back to Philly to stay. There had been some bullshit with the Department of Defense, even more with Veteran’s Affairs, and finally they’d just taken jobs with the Nixon Development Philadelphia office. Joe had been officially adopted by the Guarnere-Heffron-Julian-Spina clans. Fran and Bill had insisted Joe live with them, since their place had newly constructed ramps and handrails, and while it’d been a fight, Joe had finally given in.

 The Guarnere home was their first stop. Babe pulled their rental car up to the small strip of concrete that masqueraded as a driveway on the backend of the house. He had insisted on driving, knowing damn well his car full of backwoods country boys wouldn’t survive the trip from the airport without getting in at least three accidents. Babe smiled to himself as he got out of the car. St. Boniface was home, had been for a long time, but there was nothing like the old buildings and decorated front stoops of where he grew up. Green and white flags and Eagles logos decorated damn near everything as far as the eye could see.

 “Uncle Babe!”

 Babe braced himself as Juliana Guarnere came running down the steps at full speed.

 “You gonna dent the car,” Merl-Francis said from where he sat in the backseat, huddled up like he was about to trek the Antarctic. It wasn’t even that cold outside.

 Babe caught Juliana up in his arms and marveled at how tall she’d grown. Seven years old and already half her mother’s size. She had green and white hearts painted on her cheeks which clashed horribly with the faded orange and back Flyers t-shirt she wore.

 “Missed you, Julie,” he said, hugging her tight.

 She gave Babe another hug and then moved on to Gene before waving at Sledge. She frowned at Merl-Francis in the backseat.

 “Is he okay?”

 “He’s cold-blooded like his gator relatives. He’s just conserving his body heat,” Babe said.

 “I can hear you,” Merl-Francis said. He finally slid out of the car. “I assume there’s heat inside your house.”

 “Duh,” Juliana said. She grabbed Babe’s hand and tugged him towards the back door. “Come on! Uncle Joe’s making lunch. Uncle Ralph is supposed to be coming by too. Why didn’t he fly with you?”

 “He had his tickets long before we got ours,” Babe said.

 “’Cause he’s got more faith in the Eagles than you,” Juliana said.

 Babe laughed. “You sound like your grandmother.”

 Juliana laughed as they walked into the kitchen that smelled like ricotta and marinara. Joe Toye was balanced on a stool over the stove, slathering loaves of bread with butter.

 “Look at you all domestic and shit,” Babe said.

 Joe smirked at him and cleaned his hands on the bar towel resting on his shoulder. “I can’t cook much, but this? I’ve got it down.”

 “Smells good,” Gene said. He was looking at Joe with his doctor’s gaze, but probably only Babe and Merl-Francis knew it enough to tell. “Anything we can do to help?”

 “Yeah,” Joe said. “Get out of my kitchen. Go play with the kids. Henry’s teething, just so you know.”

 Juliana nodded. “It’s the worst.”

 “You weren’t exactly a ball of fun,” Joe said. He tugged on Juliana’s ponytail. “You going to stay here? Be my proper sous chef?”

 “Do I get first dibs on the sauce?” Juliana asked, a wicked grin on her face reminiscent of her father.

 “Of course,” Joe promised.

 “Okay,” Juliana said. She waved at Babe and Gene. “You know the way.”

 Gene led the other two out, but Babe lingered by the doorway.

 “Hey, Joe?” he said.

 “You about to start singing some Hendrix at me, Heffron?” Joe asked. “The baby wailing is enough noise.”

 Babe shook his head. Some things would never change. “Just saying, you look good.” He paused and added, “Asshole,” as a parting shot.

 “Watch your mouth,” Juliana yelled after him.

 Babe followed the sound of childish laughter to the living room. Bill Guarnere held court on the couch, little Henry is his lap sucking down a bottle and four-year-old Sofia laughing as Bill made funny faces at her, apparently more entertaining than the Bubble Guppies on the screen.

 Sledge was looking over all the family photographs on the wall, while Merl-Francis had claimed the chair closest to the heating vent. Gene was conspicuously absent.

 “Fran stole him,” Bill said.

 “Already?” Babe said. He held out his hands and took the baby and the bottle. “That’s got to be a record.”

 “We got a new big girl bed for Sofia and a canopy to go with it. The canopy is driving Fran up the wall.”

 “It’s has Elsa and Anna on it,” Sofia helpfully supplied.

 “And it lights up,” Bill said.

 “Jealous you don’t get one?” Babe asked. He shifted Henry in his arms, surprised how much he’d grown since the last time Babe had seen him, and tried not to make a face when he got spit up on.

 “Why do all your children do this to me?”

 Bill smiled, eyes tinged with memories from a lifetime together. “Maybe it’s just a Guarnere thing.”

[roundthatcorner]

“I said what I said, and it was wrong, or it was taken wrong, and now it's all this...”

BASICALLY.

So the furor, such as it is, that has resulted from a fairly innocuous post of mine seems to have taken on a bit of a life of its own, so I feel somewhat responsible and need to address certain things. A lot of what's been said seems frankly disconnected from anything I actually wrote, so I'm going to cover some but not all of the misconceptions – particular themes have been chosen because honestly some of the ideas I've been credited with are quite hurtful, to me personally and I think to a few other people.  I'm not 'at'-ing people because I'm not sure it would be at all fruitful or worthwhile to do so, and I'm not going to rebut things line-by-line because that seems more counterproductive than anything. My goal here is to hopefully dampen 'the controversy' (again, such as it is!) rather than inflame it.

On the one hand, I stand by the bulk of what I said – there's been some serious misinterpretations going around, some of which are genuinely baffling – but I can also see that my tone and my contextualization could have been improved. I do 'read' a little bratty or something in that post, which is something I should try to improve upon in the future. As for this post, I'm trying to essentially be the opposite of how I sounded there – be, like, very straightfoward and emotionally open and hopefully not stick my foot in it, or whatever. I'm basically a pathologically shy and conflict averse person, and totally just hoped that this would blow over, so all of this is way beyond my comfort zone. I hope people will see that this post is very much heartfelt, and imbue their reading of it with some generosity towards me and my intentions.

Anyways, the bulk of it, in which I pick out those misinterpretations that I would find it particularly upsetting to let stand as somehow representative of how I think:

a) Re John and being a fan: I love John. I can seriously count on one hand the number of people I love and admire more than John, and the subset under consideration for that isn't, like, 'famous people I like' or 'musicians', it's 'everybody who has ever existed.' I quite simply adore John and if I didn't I wouldn't expend the effort I do into trying to understand him. The implication that I can't possibly be a Beatles 'fan' (said in quotes, no less! Super disheartening), let alone a longtime fan is quite bizarre and insulting. I mean, I think there's a base presumption of 'grace' we should try to extend to other fans: none of us think any of them were or are irredeemable; we are all here because we love them; we all want to see them clearly and fairly. I am (clearly!) not some troll shouting 'John sux!' or whatever. It's not a mark of love for me or anyone to refuse to see John as he was – and by this I don't mean that not seeing John exactly as I do is a failure of anyone else, or deliberate, or that my interpretation is accurate, or whatever, just that FOR ME to limit my interpretation in order to 'keep' John sufficiently lovable or whatever would be silly. John was/is plenty lovable! I don't need to 'protect' myself from whatever dark places may have existed in his mind because I am entirely capable (as I think we all are) of loving him through that (not in spite of that, but THROUGH it, with empathy for him). I don't have to love or accept everything about John to love him – I don't have to love Yoko, or heroin, or Allen Klein, or stupid anti-Semitic cracks, or whatever (which is not to compare those things straightforwardly – obviously – but to make the point that it's okay to dislike things John liked!). We don't owe it to him as fans to make excuses for him; what we owe him is the same as what we owe any human being, which is just to try to understand where he's coming from. That's all that I was trying to do in my post – just delineate the thought processes he may have been having. I don't think I need to surround every discussion about John with 5 dozen caveats about his mental health issues or drug use simply because I have assumed that we all know these things and accept them as the (only) basis for further conversation (and actually I did reference both of those as clear sources of his behavior – I don't know that I can much more explicitly reference his suffering mental health than to say he was experiencing a break with reality). Furthermore, the idea that John's behavior during the final years of the Beatles was at least in part based on virulent paranoia directed at Paul as well as a desire to punish him is not something I came up with – it's a somewhat standard interpretation at this point. Even Paul (who also manages to love John while acknowledging his faults!) has admitted that John became very paranoid, jealous, neurotic, etc. Michael Gerber from Hey Dullblog once commented something like, to paraphrase, the hardest thing to accept as Beatles fans is that John broke up the Beatles and he did it willfully and deliberately...I don't know that that's THE hardest, but it's certainly up there. It's incredibly emotionally draining to consider the dynamics at work during the break-up, but I also think it's worthwhile to do so as honestly as we can, because we love them all so much and because they have so much to teach us, even when it's through this painful, agonizing shit.  

b) Re things assumed about me or what-have-you: It strikes me as really quite unfair to assume that because I've never discussed certain things on this blog (or in that specific post), that I don't understand or have never experienced them and am coming at them from a position of somewhat cruel disengagement or w/e. The title of the blog isn't 'Bisexuality, Mental Illness, Drug Addiction & Me', so I really didn't consider it under the purview and have generally refrained from inserting too much of 'myself' (or at least myself non-filtered through Beatles). I don't talk about feminism, or cats, or Mad Men or make-up or agile software development or robotic vacuums because despite my interest in all of them, that's not the intention of my tumblr. Nevertheless, some grotesque oversharing in hopes of re-assembling/salvaging some of what's been misconstrued:

- I am bisexual...too...like many people are. This gets back to the whole 'text doesn't always telegraph meaning particularly well', but the paragraph for which I was criticized for sounding like a Nat Geo narrator or w/e...as I was writing it I was actually getting quite emotional thinking of...John, like, maybe discovering his sexuality at 16, because that was the exact age where I was literally writing in my diary in cryptic little coded comments about being attracted to girls, and then blacking the comments out and tearing them out of the journal and ripping them up because I was SO fucking ashamed and scared and alone with all of it. Basically, I am not at all looking at this from the perspective of an outsider, let alone a heteronormative outsider.

- To be accused or w/e of not understanding or being unsympathetic to mental illness is more than a little ironically funny to me, because literally the reason I started this blog, writing fics, etc is because after over a decade on anti-depressants, I went off them about six months ago (lest this too be misconstrued, I am not advocating this (or un-advocating it), it simply is). My brain has therefore been 'allowed' to loop incessantly/unconstrainedly on the Beatles for the first time since I was fifteen – so mental illness is quite literally why I'm here! Funny stuff. I don't want or need or feel obliged to go into much more detail about this, so let it suffice to say that I have deep understanding and sympathy for mentally ill people, for John in particular, and I fully appreciate the impact of mental illness on a person's behavior, and any flippancy is, ah, semi-literally gallows humor.

- If I sound hardened or unsympathetic with regard to drug addictions...it's partially because I am on some level. I invite anyone who takes issue with this to go re-live their childhood with the trauma of multi-generational drug and alcohol abuse that I lived with, because I will guess that anyone who is less than saintly, as we all are, will end up just as jaded about it as I am, just from the inescapable daily grind of taking care of addicts. Sorry to sound fairly bitchy about this point, but...idk, man, it's always really really difficult to have people be like, “have you considered their feelings? Have you devoted enough of your life to ritually gutting yourself on the pyre of this or that person's addiction?” Like, yes? Sorry, all the mornings where I had to make sure my dad hadn't choked to death on his vomit before I got on the school bus have kind of drained my sympathy. Nonetheless, some of my favorite people are junkies...

c) Re Linda and Paul: I would never disrespect their relationship, and this is far and away the most upsetting thing to have people skew, because I admire what they were able to create and sustain SO much – it means so much to me in terms of what is possible even from the blackest fucking depths. Linda could have been another Francie, or Heather Mills, or Yoko, and GOSH, how much fucking poorer the world would have been, how much darker. Linda and his kids gave Paul something to live for, a whole second life after the center fell out of his first. They were actually able to make a happy life that was snatched from total chaos and despair – that's so incredible and awe-worthy to me. When I said that Paul chose Linda over dying, I was not putting down their relationship, or devaluing it or her (I think she is maybe the most admirable person in all of Beatle-dom), or anything even remotely like that. For me, there is no deeper compliment to give someone than to say that they chose to keep going when they could've died. I mean, compliment is not even the word for it, I honestly don't think I have the capacity to express this..but, like, this is soul-deep for me, the deepest, sincerest possible feeling. I derive enormous comfort and strength on literally a daily basis from the choice Paul made in the winter of 1970. Believe me when I say I would never denigrate Paul's experience or Linda's role in it or the love and commitment they showed each other.

d) Re interpretation versus facts:  There's some criticism based on me presenting my ideas as facts. I don't think I did this – I couched the thing repeatedly with 'conjecture' (in all caps!), 'my interpretation', 'I think', 'maybe' and 'may', 'a range of possibilities', 'possibly', 'presumably', 'might', etc. I was not presenting what I said as verifiable fact but as my evolving understanding of what may have happened. Besides...all of us are here because we think there was or could have been a romantic/sexual component to John & Paul's relationship. This is not something that is at all verifiable (and it even very often requires that we assume people are lying!). Practically everything we say is conjecture based on our very unorthodox interpretation of sometimes conflicting/contradictory/bewildering information, and I am no more (or less) guilty of presenting my ideas as fact than, I think, anyone here.

e) Re Yoko: I get the sense that this was the main initial point of disagreement in all of this, and the rest of it was kind of...throwing stuff and seeing what stuck (unfortunately some of it seems to have). This is actually the only intractable issue – it's not one based on misunderstanding or a failure on my part to be clear enough. I dislike Yoko exactly as much (or more!) as I conveyed in the original post, and I have good reason for it. Pretty much every day of my life I learn something about her or about the world, relationships, responsibility, children, how a person should treat others, etc, that makes her behavior that much more noxious, inexcusable, and reproachable. Once upon a time I was thirteen and believed wholeheartedly in the Ballad of John & Yoko narrative – but as an adult, I simply can't countenance it. If we were not talking about 'John and Yoko' but rather about 'Joe and Sally Schmoe', or my brother and his girlfriend, or the next case on the docket in the local family court, there would be no question that this was a profoundly unhealthy and damaging relationship. Like...are most love affairs as enormously, relentlessly destructive as theirs was? Is there anyone from John's pre-1968 life that was allowed to really remain a part of his life post-Yoko? What kind of healthy romantic relationship cuts a person off from everything else? Is 'all that I know is just what you tell me' anything other than a deeply disturbing sentiment? Some of this can be laid at John's feet but on the other hand his 25 year old secretary (as well as every other significant person in his life except for his parents and probably Mimi) was able to coax him into being a BETTER person, whereas he only seemed to become an unhealthier and more damaged person the longer he spent with Yoko (and the feminism thing...like, the most feminist thing he could have done would be sending Cynthia an additional $10,000 a month – 'look at the one you're with' or were with, after all). I can't say that Yoko didn't love John but I will say that she didn't love him well – based on the standards for human relationships and interaction that we are willing to apply to normal people. To quote John Dunbar (who is definitely a longtime John fan!), “If I had set out to destroy John Lennon, I could not have done any better than to introduce him to Yoko Ono.”

If anyone wants to talk any more about this, please message or ask me (I will likely not respond to asks in the interest of not encouraging divisiveness or whatever, but I do appreciate what I’ve been sent). I can't control what anyone posts, obviously, and there are maybe still sensitive and insightful things to be said about some of it, so go ahead if you feel the need. For my part I probably won't engage any further publicly, especially since it's been unhelpfully dug into the ground (over...and over...and over) and there's a certain amount of like...willful misconstruing that's going on that’s just not worth getting into.

And just because it came on shuffle, and because sometimes Paul is exactly what one needs him to be, I'll end by saying:

“Is it better to love than to give in to hate?

Yeah, we'd better take good care of each other,

 Avoid slipping back, off the straight and narrow”

:)

[ecotone99]

[SF] [RO] Wings of the Quantum Angel

"Once upon a time-" my father began as I cut him off. Age was the primary factor as to who heard it first, being seven the wings flapping above us was heard by me first. "D-Dad..." I said nervously. He glanced towards the roof as it creaked. He was unable to hear it move but the area's around it he could hear, the creaking, splintering wood above us was easily heard by the thirty two year old man.

"Stay quiet..." he told me, a hushed tone, dread sapping the confidence out of his normally powerful voice. I knew the drill, we all did. My older brother, who was only ten at the time, cocked the military issued delta rifle. It was better to have a child, as twisted as it sounded, on the front lines against angels as they could perceive them better than adults for an unknown reason. It didn't have anything to do with them being invisible to adults, rather, somewhere after the age of twenty five, the human mind begins to degenerate, not so drastically that it kills them but just naturally. Angels, what the military had deemed them, used this to their advantage, somehow with sonic and psionic pulses, tricking an adult into thinking that nothing was even there. Angels have existed for centuries, forming around before the 1700's, bogeymen, bigfoot, Lock Ness monster, all technically angels. What are they? Many people back in the late 21st century speculated they were magical monsters, but science has proven otherwise. They are the physical manifestation of human delusion and fear, an accidental side effect of the Salem Witch trials. As explained by Dr. Francis Dale in an article he wrote twenty years before my birth, “Human beings are the most intelligent thing that has ever existed on the planet. Our intelligence as a side effect can and has effected reality. Human perception of fearing others has, somehow, effected our reality in a way we do not fully understand. If enough people, for an unknown reason, believe in something, it becomes reality.” That monster under your bed as a child was real for the sheer fact you believed it was real. For unexplained reasons, angels manifested in the middle of the 21st century, enough people most likely fearing World War II as the first World War and original World War II was deemed two parts of the same war, renamed probably due to people’s extreme terror about nuclear war, somehow the words “World War II” being less terrifying than “World War III.” I don’t make changes, I just follow them. All three of us in that tiny rural Russian cabin focused on the angel moving away from us, trying to force our perception of the creature to become its reality. It is far, far too complex of a process to explain to anyone not living with angels. To put it simply, if humans perception of fear and delusion can turn into a biological creature, then those same delusions and in this case hopefulness of the creature leaving, can affect its actions. Even though it has been tried, scientists cannot erase the creature’s existence as the fear of them is far, far too prevalent throughout the world. If the twelve billion people in the world all believed none of them existed, then they would cease to exist, but no way in hell anyone is convincing that many people to do that.

A thin, inhumanly long oily arm reached through our window, Class III, six jointed fingers, stiffer than usual elbow. Many might think it was a huge, skeletal rotten mass but most angels, unless injured, were fully covered in relatively healthy, if not sweaty, skin. This one had a deep caramel color, strange considering we were in one of the coldest countries in the world, its skin was stretched over its shoulders, the bones of its ribs exposed as per usual of a class three. The spinal column of it easily seen through the ribcage, lungs and a two beating hearts moving in gross, twitching motions. It was mostly humanoid, about nine or ten feet tall, the skeleton of the creature stretched instead of just being a larger version of humans. Class 3’s generally didn’t have eyes, nor did this one, just a fat nose with teeth in black gums that resembled tooth picks tightly packed together in almost a fence-like structure. On its feet and hands it possessed only for fingers, a claw on its upper leg and upper arm instead of the little digit, also par for the course. The creature was completely hairless, lacking pores, its skin appearing slightly smoother than a human’s. Bizarrely enough, despite no female counterpart had ever been found, most angels possessed a penis, this ones looked like it had been torn in half, probably by barbed wire, it would regenerate it in the coming days if it lived this encounter. However, the most bizarre thing about the beast was, even though my brother and I both heard wings when it landed, the wings were two black turbines of black matter, extending over eighty feet out the window. In the back of the creature it had organs scientists couldn’t wrap their head around that created the turbines that didn’t obey the laws of physics in the slightest. They, for lifting up something this large, didn’t make any sound, didn’t provide any lift for anything around it, not picking up paper or anything but against biological mass it would burn it, similar to a radiation burn. The only time feathers were heard was when it wasn't in human view. “Take the shot…” My dad told my brother. He aimed the barrel of the gun against the creature’s cheek, pulling on the trigger. My heart stopped as the echo of the shot shattered throughout the room, a green flash and the creature fell, dead in a heap. My dad could see it now, grimacing at the beast.

16 Years Later

So, here I was, finally, years of training graduating from SAFRIM, Secrete Angelic Facilitators Indigo Marauders. I was officially an Indigo Soldier, an angel killer. We had been trained to ignore our survival instincts regarding the creatures as that was how they hunted us. We weren’t just here to defend against them, we were here to destroy them… it was my duty.

Travis was an American who I had trained with. He started out as some scrawny kid and I watched him evolve, I couldn’t help but smile at my friend’s progress, he was 182 centimeters of pure muscle now. I was proud of him, I was glad I got my first mission with him. I always enjoyed his wisecracking, even to the trainers who beat him into a bloody pulp on more than one occasion, he grinned the entire way through.

Lily, a stoic girl who would probably be great for hunting angels regardless of training, it was what she had been doing in France for years before as a twelve year old, only joined to get physically better. When I joined, I thought she might have a soft spot but she was basically an emotionally dead girl, cute if she could actually express some emotion.

Kaine Snow, the guy who insisted I call him by both his first and last name or just Snow, he apparently hated his first name, but he hadn’t ever actually opened up about it to anyone aside from Lily who claimed she told him, could be her version of fucking with us.

Finally, Kyle, a roided out American who believed in the good ol’ American dream. I wanted to punch him in the throat 20% of the time as his ego was larger than the moon. Couldn’t stop hitting on me despite how many goddamn times I told him I wasn’t into guys, not that he’d be my type if I was.

I hate the desert, its like a bipolar child, freezing at night, boiling in the day. The spiders didn’t help, our mission, Class 4 angel. Kill it, we’d get our first pay check. Easy enough, right? Wrong, very wrong. The fact that we knew what we were looking for with the intent to kill it meant we didn’t fear it, meaning it could be hard for us to actually perceive. “You alright?” Travis sat next to me with a grunt, way, way too big for my tent. “Yeah, just nervous,” I smiled at him. I didn’t fear angels, I dealt with them on a near weekly basis in Russia, I was just nervous about screwing up. “Honestly… same,” he chuckled, handing me a beer. I thanked him, taking a sip. “This is warm,” I groaned. “Leave it outside for twenty minutes, I’m sure it’ll be good then.” I slid past him, inviting him to follow, a bright light five meters away. My eyes needed to adjust from the white light of my phone to the flickering orange of the flames. Lily sat on a log, a tired look on her face. She probably didn’t see I saw her like that since her face snapped back to normal once I sat next to her. “You alright?” “Hm? Why wouldn’t I be?” She turned to me, expressionless, impossible to read. “Big day ahead of us,” Travis grunted as he sat in the sand across from us. He knew I had a thing for Lily, he just didn’t get it, “Son of a bitch!” He stood up, a huge tan bug hanging from his leg. He slapped the thing off, “Fucking camel spiders can go to Hell!” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his stupidity. “What was rule one? Oh, right, don’t sit in the Goddamn sand!” I laughed. “Real funny,” He grinned, sarcasm thick in his throat, chucking the beer against the camel spider, shattering the bottle. “I’m going to bed,” Lily said, getting herself up and walking into her tent, zipping it behind her. “You’re terrible at this…” Travis sighed, sitting next to me. “What am I supposed to do? She doesn’t open up at all!” I hissed at him. “I mean you’re lowkey flirting with me in her eyes…” He whispered. I wasn’t worried about her hearing me as the tents were purposely lined with high quality sound dampeners, bad for normal soldiers but great for angel hunters, no sounds in the night to get someone paranoid for the mission ahead. “What the fuck are you talking…” He was right. Goddammit. “Talk to her tomorrow, only talk to me as a friend or an ally, alright? You got this.” He put his hand on my shoulder, smiling.

The sun was absolutely blinding, especially after waking up in my tent which was nearly pitch black, “Fuck!” Kyle shielded his eyes, “Who turned on the LED sun?” “You’re not funny,” Lily told him, already dressed for the mission. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be you short bitch.” “HEY!” Travis barked, “Enough of that shit, it’s one angel, we kill this and we can assign ourselves to new battalions, you two bantering just makes it more likely for it to run off.” “I want to be in whichever one lets me gut him,” Lily snarled, her face twitching almost angrily, uncommon for her. “Fuck you!” “STOP!” Travis barked again, they both stopped. Kyle and Lily never got along, probably why the higher ups put them together. If they could help complete this mission, despite their differences, it would be a great sign for both of them. The five of us walked through the molten air, military equipment digging into us. All of us had gotten used to that sweat soaked feeling of straps digging into uncomfortable places but the heat made it six hundred times worse. “So…” I said, walking next to Lily, her black hair covered by her helmet... I wanted to run my fingers through it sometimes. “What?” She grunted back. “Pretty hot, huh?” “I guess,” She replied. A pickup line like that would’ve worked if I just met her, going with something like kinda like you. I didn’t think she was hot, I thought she was cute. “You ever been to the middle east before?” “No.” Right… She very dry when it came to replying. Maybe I should just give this up, “You?” I almost grinned but stopped myself. That was the first time I had ever heard her ask a follow up question to someone else’s that wasn’t a trainer. She was more skilled than me so I didn’t see me as that. “I went to the Gobi when I was a kid if that counts,” I chuckled. “Just as gross, sand. Annoying, gets everywhere, my ears, my nose, my eyes, my mouth—” She cut herself off. What? No, no, no, no… Did she realize I was trying to get her to open up? “Someone’s up ahead...” I turned my focus, sure enough, she was right. It definitely wasn’t the angel, someone with a thin male form, could be a mannequin for shooting practice. My shoulder erupted in fire, thick gooey red liquid dripping from the tips of my fingers. “Zena!” Lily yelped, her face turning white before dragging me out of the way. Odd… was she actually worried? “Did she just get shot?” Travis exclaimed. Kyle and Snow bolted toward the direction, hiding behind dunes as other loud blasts echoed through the desert. The mannequin shook twice. “It was an accident…” I groaned, pulling back my coat, letting Travis see the wound. “Uh… Lily, can you handle this? I’m gonna go help the guys?” Lily nodded. “We may need to get you back to camp.” “I’ll be fine, we need to kill the angel.” “Okay…” she said, digging through her pouch for a bandage and rubbing alcohol. Another two blasts. Someone was doing target practice with a sniper or other high caliber gun. I wasn’t particularly mad since it wasn’t like they were expecting people to be out here, “uh…” She dabbed my wound with the towels that were gripped by her shaking hands. Why was she panicking? She dressed simulation wounds before? “Lily… You need me to get that?” I asked. She shook her head as two more blasts fired off. I heard something whiz by us. For fuck’s sake, they were firing snipers, how hard was it to aim? Terror wrapped around my heart as two enormous black turbines erupted behind the dune a few hundred feet away. I quickly shoved it down but Lily looked terrified. Fuck! We should’ve killed the thing first, she was worried about me and that transformed into fear and now the bastard knew exactly where we were, smelling her fear, her perception of losing me… oh fuck�� The tan skinned angel blasted over the dune, two glowing white eyes with sockets darker than night. That was a class 4 all right, an extra joint in its arm, gaping mouth. A shriek escaped its mouth as it saw me, the wings changing direction rapidly, coming right for me. Fuck! I was so dead! It reached forward with its arm, the tendons in the limb tightening… hang on… where were the fingers? Where was the entire lower arm!? The thing was riddled with bullet holes. Wait… that was the angel they were shooting at? Another two turbines exploded around the dune and I heard the echo of delta rifles. There was two of them!? My pulse quickened again, and the angel turned its attention to me once again. Lily was fumbling for her rifle, fearing for my life instead of her own. She didn’t fear death, she feared mine. That was what the angel was latching onto. “Eat this you piece of shit!” A grenade was shoved down its throat by Kyle before punching it in the ribs, sending it backward. The thing’s head exploded, shrapnel of bone and metal landing in the sand near us. All three of us knew the only thing that could take it down for good was going to be a delta round but that gave us enough time to bolt toward Travis and Snow as it swept its oversized limbs around, grasping for anything. It probably couldn’t sense anything as its fear senor was in its head, which was there, and there, and there, and there…

The twin turbines of black matter near where Travis and Snow were remained, sweeping through the area. They were definitely alive as the turbines hadn’t stopped sweeping, but for how long? The angel behind us was stitching itself back together, black matter similar to its wings fusing its face back together. Another gunshot whizzed past my shoulder, the angel behind us exploding into blood and guts. That wouldn’t kill it, but it would slow the regeneration. Another gunshot, this one slamming into Lily’s chest, causing me to pull away from Kyle, screaming, “NO!” She groaned, the bullet landing in the sand as she sat up. Right, we wore bulletproof armor. It was still covered in blood since that was definitely a sniper round, but she didn’t die. “Can you walk?” Kyle asked me. I nodded. Instantly, he picked up Lily and began running, following close behind him. Why had one bullet hit the angel and the other hit Lily? “Oh fuck…” The black turbines turned to white crystal. That angel had just evolved to Class 5. Another gunshot whizzed next to my ear, missing the angel completely. At least two people, one was trying to protect us, the other was trying to kill us. Why? Why? Why!? The crystal pillars fell, nearly falling on us. Kyle threw Lily to me as I slid down the dune, his arm being caught under the pillar. He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks as the crystal burned and mutilated his arm. The angel behind us rushed under the sand, ripping into Kyle. I quickly ejected the round of bullets I had into his head since neither Lily or I were in any shape to fight the angel head on and I didn’t want to hear his screams and feel like I had left him in agony. Mercy... “There you are…” The angel’s foot turned the sand beneath it to crystal. What… It spoke? That never happened… EVER! “Go to Hell!” Lily shot it in the head, pulling the trigger the second time to have the wing of it block the bullet, partially crystal. Angels didn’t ever block either, they didn’t need to as they were unkillable by traditional means. A truck pulled in front of us, an Arabian kid with a grin on his face, a pistol pointed at the both of us. The angel stopped at the wave of his hand, its damaged form standing limp, the wings turning back to black matter before vanishing into nothing. “That’s enough R-Rodney,” He chuckled, “Y-Y-You’re lucky that I don’t normally kill g-girls… you’re more useful for other things.” Lily aimed his gun at him the second he was distracted with stepping off the truck. A standoff, “I can take off your arm before you can pull that trigger with a thought.” His neck and eye twitched unnaturally, a huge scar covering the left side of his head, he definitely had brain damage, “Now, put the gun down or I’ll do just that!” He laughed, “Oh… a-and hand over any delta weapons you have t-too!” He was far too confident for bluffing. I nodded to Lily and she carefully place the gun down. “We don’t have any delta weapons on us, they’re back there…” I pointed. The angel and him both looked in the direction. “You guys S-SAFRIM?” The kid asked. We nodded, “Well, with this angel alive, they’ll assume you’re d-dead. My name i-i-is Niles, your new master.”

END OF PART ONE

submitted by /u/CelocanthHover [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2M4Yfj9

[spryfilm]

“Game Night” (2018)

Comedy

Running Time: 110  minutes

Written by: Mark Perez

Directed by: John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein

Featuring:   Jason Bateman, Rachel McAdams, Billy Magnussen, Sharon Horgan, Lamorne Morris, Kylie Bunbury, Jesse Plemons, Michael C. Hall and Kyle Chandler

Annie: [as Annie is playing with a fake gun, she quotes Pulp Fiction] “Any of you fucking pricks move, I’m gonna execute every motherfucking last one of you!”

There is no doubt that last year was a terrible time for the comedy genre, while many of the best laughs in movies came from action and comic book movies, the best example being  the MCU movie “Thor: Ragnarok” (2017) with actors more synonymous with drama than comedy, giving some of the lighter moments of 2017. Now comes the release of one of the better comedies from the past 12 months, a road movie, come caper narrative with a range of well known actors from varying backgrounds, led strongly by both Jason Bateman and surprising to some Oscar nominee Rachel McAdams. “Game Night” (2018) is not only a refreshingly funny movie, but McAdams shines in what must be her first straight comedy role in a long time. McAdams shows some exquisite timing as well as understanding of the material, sharing some natural chemistry with Bateman, they both shine together onscreen. While the narrative as well as some of the plot borrows thematically from many previous movies, such as “The Wizard of Oz” (1939), “After Hours” (1985) or really any other road movie you can think of, it is the separate situations that all the characters find themselves in that sets this apart from many other recent comedies.

Movies that at their heart are mistaken identity movies are either exceptionally flawed, or are so complex as to be lost in their own contrivance, the classic, possibly greatest is the Hitchcock thriller “North by Northwest” (1959), almost all others are pale imitations. Where “Game Night” (2018) shines is in its embrace of humor as well as the theater of the absurd, which is what makes this movie the comedy of the past twelve months. It believes in its own story which is a real strength that it follows through on for its running time.

“Game Night” directed by John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein are the pair who are possibly best known for writing the MCU/Sony movie “Spider-Man: Homecoming” (2017) which not only launched that franchise but also gave the duo another shot after the epic misfire that was the reboot, “Vacation” (2016), a bust with critics as well as at the box office. There is no doubt that the two are able screenwriters but their directing credentials were definitely questionable. Directing is all about decision making, the buck stops with that person or persons in charge, with their previous movie it was all bad, but with their new movie they have embraced what makes them unique, run with it and have created what must be an unmitigated success. Believing in their actors as well as the characters they portray is possibly their biggest strength with this movie.

“Game Night” revolves around competitive gamers Max and Annie who are trying to have a child, but their attempts are unsuccessful due to Max’s stress surrounding his feelings of inadequacy when compared to his vastly more successful, attractive brother Brooks. During Max and Annie’s routine weekend game night with their friends Ryan, and married couple Kevin and Michelle, Brooks shows up and immediately shows Max up by arriving in a Corvette Stingray and sharing an embarrassing childhood story during charades. Annie decides to work together with Max to defeat Brooks at the upcoming game night, which Brooks offers to host at his house.

When the guests arrive, including Ryan’s new date, Sarah, Brooks says he’s initiated an interactive role-playing mystery game, promising the winner his Stingray. After a while, an actor playing an FBI agent informs them of the narrative of the mystery, only for two masked men to break in and assault him and Brooks. The guests, believing it to be part of the game, idly watch. After Brooks is dragged out of the house, the couples begin to solve the mystery using the clues left behind by the actor.

On the surface it could be easily overlooked how the casting of this movie adds to the general conceit as well as the story, but to cast some very well known people primarily accepted for their comedy acumen opposite actors who are very well know for their dramatic skills is a very canny decision indeed. So we have Jason Bateman who is close to being a truly great comic actor playing against not only Rachel McAdams, but, Jesse Plemons, Michael C. Hall and Kyle Chandler, who are all gifted film as well as television actors more noted for drama than comedy. What this means for the movie as well as the performances is that all of these characters are imbued with believability not only in their portrayal but the treatment they receive from the rest of the stellar cast. The extreme characters that each of them play are so outlandish, McAdams as a wife wanting a baby, Chandler as the giver the top older brother, Hall as a cruel hit man and Plemons as a weird divorced cop that it is a requirement the cast are not only able to play them straight but the rest of the cast are funny enough to be able to run with their own characters which then paper over any believability issues that may exist within the narrative – of course these are all highly over the top as we as styled characters that are not only tropes but definite comedic archetypes.

One of the may strengths of “Game Night” like many similar road movies or mistaken identity movies is the short amount of time that it takes place over, which also means that it is self contained to the point that all plot points are explained as well as being tidily wrapped up. The narrative is fairly simple, we are introduced to all the main as well as supporting characters early on, all of their flaws as well as any plot points are all laid out within moments of meeting them, so of course any issues are dealt with so that at the conclusion of the movie we have changed as well as essentially happy characters getting on with their lives. In terms of the actual running time this movie really races along so that there is little time wasted on anything but the essentials within the movie. Something that became commonplace since the early 2000s was the extremely long running time of comedies thanks to producers and directors like Judd Apatow who took it on themselves to over engineer plots as well as narratives, which is acceptable in small doses. However what it led to was an overstuffing that meant that the editing process was ham-fisted leading to unfunny long movies with very little direction. It is pleasing after a number of years to view a movie like “Game Night” that as I have mentioned cracks along at a great pace.

Another aspect of the movie that is undeniably great is the humor, now I know that this should be a given, a comedy should be funny, but the one thing that 2017 proved was that even though a movie may call itself a comedy, actually being funny is something else entirely. Each of the many comedic moments stem naturally from the honesty of the characters so that they all feel as real as they could in a movie like “Game Night”, which is something many comedies miss, in that they initially go for laughs instead of real moments which this movie is actually full of. There are many examples of the humor, which is not only verbal but very physical as well without having to resort to mindless scenes of action. One early example is Jason Bateman being accidentally shot, then being stitched up by McAdams in one crazy but excellent scene – if you look closely I am almost positive both are laughing, but trying to hide it unsuccessfully to be sure. The movie is full of moments like this, which is refreshing especially in a movie that has such a large cast, everyone at one time or another has their own moment to shine, sometimes more than one – which again in a movie that runs mush less than two hours should be something the directors should be commended for.

If you want to watch a very funny movie, with some great story beats, a cast full of great dramatic as well as comedic actors, coupled with the fact that most of the family can watch it then “Game Night” is the movie for you. It has genuine laughs, not only that but also offer some lessons without preaching which is something many Hollywood comedies could learn a lot from. Finally it also offers some hint, I hope, as to what John Francis Daley& Jonathan Goldstein could be capable of.

“Game Night” is out now in cinemas.

  Game Night Day 14

  Film review: “Game Night” (2018) “Game Night" (2018) Comedy Running Time: 110  minutes Written by: Mark Perez Directed by: John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein…