#and sure there are multi LI books that also have small flat casts
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welcometophu · 5 years ago
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Into the Split: Revolution 1
Twinned Book 3: Into the Split
Revolution 1
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Pawel wavers as he stands next to the table, one hand out, fingers spread against the wood to help balance himself. His scruff is thick and ragged, his hair unkempt. Dark circles beneath his eyes  stand out against the paleness of his skin, and the moles on his face are stark circles. It’s easy to see there is also a faint scatter of freckles between the moles, normally too faint to be seen when his skin has a healthy color.
He inhales, then closes his eyes and his free hand clenches by his side.
Mac is abruptly there, leaning her shoulder against him to prop him up.
Pawel pushes his hand through his hair, shoving the bangs back from his face. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” he says. “Carolyn’s gone back to PHU along with Lily, from the New Hampshire combined community, and David Pierson from the Burlington community. They are combing through the archives to find every bit of historical information we can obtain about Shadowwalkers, Deathstalkers, and Soulstealers. Sera is still here, but she is spending more time online than here, interacting with other Technopaths and researchers around the world, looking for the same information. And Del spent the night working with those in the Dreamscape to try to gather what she can from the other worlds, to better understand how we are tied together.”
Nikolai glances at where Del sits on top of a table on the other side of the room. Her legs are drawn up and crossed, and she is playing with one long braid that trails down the side of her face. Two other men sit with her, and Nikolai guesses that they are her anchors—Shawn and Sam. One has a hand on her knee, the other rests his palm at the small of her back.
Nikolai isn’t sure Del is paying attention to this world. He’s not sure how she could be Dreaming while awake, but from her vague expression, he almost wonders if she is.
She seems more stable and more rested than Pawel, however. Nikolai is just surprised that he and Nikita weren’t asked to join her in the Dreaming when it happened.
“We’ve been gathering histories between the worlds. Yours,” Pawel points to Nikolai and Seth, “and ours. We’ve pieced together a decent view of your world through conversations we’ve had with you since your arrive, and through Del’s research. Prior to the Emergence here, and the Split in your world, our histories were very similar. We could find differences, yes, of course. The people were different. Of course the history itself would be different. But in the end, despite the execution and means being dissimilar, the end results were nearly identical. Our worlds stood on the same cusps prior to the Emergence and the Split.”
“So you think the government was involved in our world, too,” Seth asks, his voice low and angry.
“I think so, yes.” Pawel licks his lips. “If the people were the same—if the divergences only came after the events—I’d think we were one world that Split at that time. But we weren’t, and we’re not.”
“Three worlds,” Del says idly, picking at the seam of her jeans. “Don’t forget, there were three worlds once, not just the two. One’s already dead.”
Which is a chilling thought every time it occurs to Nikolai. No one could blame him for not wanting to think about it, right?
“There were three worlds,” Pawel agrees. “And I think we were far closer before the Ritual. If we were to look far enough back in history, it’s possible that we might even have been the same, or more closely similar than we were in recent times. But the Ritual shattered the hold between the worlds, and now they have become far more different than they ever were before.”
The difference between a world buried in darkness, and here. Yeah, Nikolai can see that.
“I don’t think the Split existed, such as it is, prior to the Ritual,” Pawel says. “I have discussed it at length with Del, and she has no memory of the Dreamscape prior to the Emergence. However, now that we are in touch with other Dreamwalkers around the world, we have confirmed that the shadowed spaces were not the same prior to the Ritual. There were dark spaces between the paths, yes, but nothing lurked there, or if it did, it did not encroach upon the Dreamscape.”
“So you think that this Ritual created the Split.” Seth leans forward, brows furrowed and expression intense. He folds his hands together, fingers linked tightly. “The Split as the darkness inside the Dreaming, or the Split as in what happened to our world? Or both?”
“Both.” Pawel’s tone is definitive, strong despite the fact that he still looks as if he could fall over. “I think that the Ritual—and the idea that it was probably cast on all three worlds in parallel—shattered the hold between them. It created this space that opened up and has become a yawning Abyss, full of Chaos and monsters. And the more time that passes, the more that Abyss grows. It is home to what the Shadowwalkers have become, and it isn’t hospitable to the Shadowwalkers who used to exist, like Mattie. And worse yet, it’s spreading. It started centered around our worlds, but it has spread throughout the Dreamscape, infecting all the spaces between the worlds, and allowing these corrupt Shadowwalkers entrance to other places.”
“So you’re saying we created a multi-verse pandemic,” Corbin asks. Drea smacks him, but he just raises his hands. “What? I’m asking the same we’re all thinking. Only you’re trying to think how to cure it.”
“We’re all trying to think how to cure it, and yes, that’s one way of thinking about it.” Pawel sits in the chair that appears behind him. Mac leans on the chair, whispers something to him, and he brushes her away. “The thing is, the wider the Split grows, the more space there is for Shadowwalkers to breed, and the more they have to invade other worlds in order to be able to feed. I don’t know what happened to the world that is gone, but I highly suspect that it has been absorbed into the Split. And I suspect that will be the fate of Nikolai’s world, and eventually our own, if we cannot stop them.”
“So what you’re saying is that if we destroy the Split—the chasm—we can destroy the way the Shadows breed,” Seth says slowly. He glances at Nikolai, and Nikolai can read something in his expression, but he isn’t sure what.
“Breed might not be the best word,” Pawel acknowledges, “but yes. I believe that if we destroy the Split and destroy the place where the Shadows congregate, we will slow the Emergence of new Shadowwalkers of the destructive, soul-desiring kind. Of course, this is only a theory and the only way to prove it is to execute a plan.”
“Do you have a plan?” Alia asks. She sits to one side, near Pawel but not at the same table. She remains seated, ceding control of this breakfast meeting to him. A cat lies on her lap, a small white tabby curled upon a pile of something knit in lavender and grey. Alia’s fingers comb gently through the fur behind its ears as she speaks.
“Not yet, but we will.” Pawel’s tone is decisive, although Nikolai has difficulty imagining him doing anything but sleeping for the next few days. He looks like he could fall over if someone breathes on him wrong.
“What happens to us?” Seth asks, his voice heavy and blunt. Frustration and anxiety roll off of him, and from the way others around them draw back, Nikolai doesn’t think he’s trying to keep it back. “If you destroy the Split, how do we get home? That’s the way the Shadowwalkers travel between the worlds. That’s how Chelsea brought us here in the first place, and it’s probably how you got to our world, and why you were chased by an entire fucking flock of Shadows when you arrived. If we do this, are we stuck here?”
Silence has weight, and this one rests heavily on their shoulders. Low breaths scrape; somewhere in the room someone moves their chair.
Pawel slumps, gaze dropping. “I don’t know, Seth. I know I promised—”
“You promised,” Seth shoots back. “You promised we would go home if we came here to help. We’re helping. You keep sending Nikolai into the Dreamscape. We can’t do more for you, and now you’re saying that maybe we’re going to have to stay here. We have family at home.”
“This isn’t Havenhill,” Nikolai says quietly, because Seth is absolutely right. “It may look like it, but it’s not the same.” He glances at Alia. “Sorry.”
He’s not sure she even realizes he’s addressing her. Alia’s gaze is entirely upon Pawel, quiet and assessing.
“I don’t know,” Pawel repeats. He has one hand over his face, his voice muffled. “I’m doing my best here, but we are so far past what I do know that I just can’t—I can’t predict any result at this point. I believe that once the Split is gone, the Shadowwalkers who are traditional—the ones who have their soul and aren’t destructive creatures—will be able to travel between the worlds. They could before, according to what little we’ve been able to find. That was a desirable trait, and the Ritual wanted to keep that. With luck,” he lets that one word fall flat, “that’s what we’ll return to. If there are any Shadowwalkers left.”
“There’s Mattie,” Rory says.
And they promised to return Chelsea’s soul to her. The question becomes one of order—do they do it before the Ritual or after? Is it even possible? How does this work?
There’s a very real chance they’ll be staying here.
Nikolai’s gut twists, clenching. Seth rises abruptly, waits while balanced on the balls of his feet. As soon as Nikolai stands, Seth moves, heading for one of the doors out into the hallway, and once they retreat from the room, he keeps going, heading for the door at the back of the building.
They pass through the warm kitchens and out the back, into the grassy courtyard formed between the wings of the huge house. Seth veers towards a bench and collapses onto it, slumped forward.
“Fuck.”
Nikolai sits next to him, curls over his slumped back, one hand on the nape of his neck. He leans in close, tries to press their knees and thighs together, as much contact as he can manage. “We just need to—”
“What if we can’t?” Seth asks, his voice mumbled. “I know, it’s stupid that I’m this angry about it. They’re your brothers. Everyone I had is dead except for you, and I’ve got you right here. Wherever we are, I’ve got you.”
“They’re your family, too,” Nikolai says. He carefully pries one of Seth’s hands from his face, winds their fingers together. “They’re our family. And we’ll… we’ll figure it out.”
“If we don’t?”
There’s the Seth that Nikolai knows and loves. The one who can see the dark side to any situation, who was perfect for keeping them safe when the world was at its worst around them.
The question is valid, too.
“I’m not sure we have much of a choice anymore,” Nikolai admits. “We’re here already. I can go into the Dreamscape. I can probably get into the Dreamscape physically, or pull it into this world, if I really try hard enough. I might even be able to get you there. But I can’t walk out into a different place than I came in. Maybe Carolyn could, if she tried hard enough. Del can’t; we already know that. Chelsea can take us through the Split, but only if we go before whatever Ritual they come up with is done.”
“And if don’t stay here….”
“We can’t work with Nikita, and we can’t help save both our worlds.” Nikolai completes the thought, just as quiet as Seth is. He rubs his fingers along Seth’s hand. “If we wait until after, we have to hope that we can figure out a way for Chelsea to travel back and take us with her. I don’t think Mattie knows how, but she does know she can’t get into the Split the way everything stands at the moment.”
“It’s a lot of ifs.” Seth tilts slightly, heavy against Nikolai’s side.
“It’s a lot of ifs,” Nikolai agrees. They sit there quietly, while birds chirp somewhere above them in the warm spring morning. “I think we need to trust that it’s going to work out.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Seth asks, because of course he does. Because they need to think about it.
Even if Nikolai doesn’t want to think about it.
He inhales, then lets the breath out slowly rather than speaking. He needs time to wrangle the words properly. “Then we stay,” he says finally, and the words are heavy in his heart. “Then we stay, and someone makes an identity for us and we find a way to fit in here. Maybe we go to school. Maybe we make Pawel adopt us, or find a place in that program Lucy has for wayward lost Talented kids. But if we can’t go home, then the only other thing to do is move forward and live our lives.” He squeezes Seth’s hand tightly. “Together. No matter what, it’s you and me. Okay?”
“I’d rather go home,” Seth huffs. “But okay. Whatever happens next, we’re in it together.”
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jamesginortonblog · 7 years ago
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Belleville reviews
I will add other reviews as they appear, so check this post for updates.
Stage Review **** - Belleville is 100 minutes of rising suspense and edge-of-your-seat tension that has a couple of gross-out moments, a few seconds of nudity that will make women of a certain age gasp in admiration, and an awful lot going for it. The big draw is [...] James Norton, who can add his growing maturity as a stage actor to a CV that is already bulging with scorching turns on TV and film. He’s terrific. He delivers a complex, multi-layered performance that excites, shocks and disturbs. [...] .Imogen Poots is emerging as a hugely watchable stage actress. She has a moment here, with a large chef’s knife and a big toenail, that will remain with me, and you, forever. The audience was aghast.
Financial Times **** - Herzog allows the marital relationship of late-twenties Americans Abby and Zack to present itself gradually, Michael Longhurst directs with a discreet touch . [...]  Imogen Poots, making a rare stage appearance, flakes convincingly as Abby; James Norton as Zack holds most of it in until his psychological dam bursts. Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi have a brief but surprisingly important francophone coda. It makes for powerful viewing, but as I say, perhaps not the thing if what you’re after is a slice of seasonal good cheer.
Plays To See ***** - Although the writing covers various themes and angles, Michael Longhurst’s direction helps to move time along in a sophisticated and intelligent manner, meaning that the chronology of the narrative is credible and the action feels fluid and natural.Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi are excellent in their roles as a young French couple that contrast and conflict with Abby and Zach, and their characters have many dimensions that are explored and demonstrated throughout the play. Dominating the majority of the action, Imogen Poots and James Norton visibly pour everything into the execution of their roles, and it’s due to their impeccably emotive and intense performances that the production delivers the impact that it does.
The Up Coming ***** - Those who are not fans of intense melodramatic human stories don’t need to worry. Belleville is mainly characterised by an amazing cast with absolutely flawless performances by Imogen Poots and James Norton. They are not only convincing as a couple struggling to save their relationship but they also play wonderfully as individuals. As the story progresses it’s easy to realise how destructive these two human beings are, and how much pain they inflict on each other as a result. The loss of a mother, the birth of a child and some past regrets make up the main points of conflict, giving both actors the chance to elevate Amy Herzog’s script to a mesmerising level. We can’t forget about the two supporting roles in this drama. Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi complete the cast as the apartment’s landlord and his wife, living in the same building and clearly affected by the chaotic couple and their misadventures. Their dialogue is often in French and there is a realistic approach to the cultural differences in all the scenes the four performers have together. The set is impeccable and very intimate. The rooms are displayed in such a way that the audience is placed at the same level as the stage, so we all feel as if we are inside this apartment with these characters. The colours and the design of the different rooms are very smart, setting the tone for the climax perfectly, as the action usually occurs between the kitchen, the bathroom and the living room. 
The Times **** - Michael Longhurst directs a psychological thriller dressed up as a sitcom, with the perfect Paris flat set by Tom Scutt. Doors slam, accidents happen, there are farcical vomiting scenes. The timeline seems off and yet the tension keeps ratcheting up until, despite myself, I was riveted. Why did he do that? When will he tell her the big secret? And why does he keep confiscating her phone? Imogen Poots is brilliant as Abby, mercurial and self-obsessed but not, surely, bonkers. James Norton is equally good as the erratic Zack. It’s hard to know which side we are on, especially when it becomes clear that the Parisian kitchenette has a very sharp knife. Baguette anyone? It’ll keep you guessing, that’s for sure.
Telegraph **** Riveting and troubling insights on the frailty of human relationships - What makes the evening so disquieting – and accomplished – is that we’re witness to the accumulative power of subtle nudges – each eggs the other on, wittingly and unwittingly, towards a primeval forest of fear, hurt and rage.  Norton just keeps making smart career moves: Zack combines some of the vicar-next-door niceness viewers loved in Granchester with the psychotic intensity at which the actor excelled as reviled rapist Tommy Lee Royce in Happy Valley. This former medical student looks so dependable, in white T-shirt and jeans, flashing a sexy, toothsome smile as he nibbles healingly at Abby’s stubbed toe – the duo even make out on the sofa at one moment of rekindled ardour. He registers relatable hurt when Abby displays a viciousness straight out of the Edward Albee book of marital put-downs, yet there’s also an inscrutable gleam in his eye that suggests he shouldn’t be allowed to toy too much with that kitchen knife.
What’s On Stage  **** - Norton is perfectly cast as Zack: the picture of outward masculinity and yet strangely wet behind the ears as well. Poots too seems entirely together until she’s hobbling around drunk and taking a knife to a blackened toenail. At its simplest, this is a portrait of care and the pressures that come with it. Their relationship is full of real, lived details – the tenderness and shorthand that betrays their history - under Michael Longhurst’s direction, but, with Natasha Chivers’ clever lighting and Ben and Max Ringham’s unnerving urban soundscape, he subverts the tricks and tropes of horror with real skill
The Art Desk **** - prickly and unnerving Imogen Poots and James Norton in terrific form as American expats living on the edge - Committing to the stage at a time when they could be forgiven for thinking only of the screen, James Norton and Imogen Poots are in accent-perfect, emotionally precise form as two 28-year-old married Americans inhabiting gently rundown rented digs in Belleville […] Herzog has great fun larding her text with the necessary clues, and Poots and Norton bring to this emotional cat-and-mouse game a ready physicality and ease that draw the audience in,
RadioTimes **** James Norton is brilliant as a man on the edge - Norton is utterly compelling as a man on the edge. As his lies unravel, Zack grows desperate and reveals a darker side.Poots is equally brilliant as Abby, who’s so caught up in her own unhappiness, she fails to notice her husband’s strange behaviour. Poots doesn’t waste a sentence as she flounces around the stage – angry, funny and terribly cruel by turns. Between the blazing rows are fleeting moments of tenderness and affection. All the action takes place within 24 hours in their small, messy flat and director Michael Longhurst ratchets up the tension. Pulsing, unsettling music between the scenes adds to the sense of foreboding. At times it’s hard to watch, but impossible to tear your eyes away.This is the UK debut of Belleville and the Donmar’s intimate auditorium is perfect for this claustrophobic play. At only an hour and 40 minutes with no interval, it’s short but packs a punch. There were audible gasps and whimpers from the audience when their drunken night out spirals out of control.It could be taken as an indictment of indulged, self-obsessed millennials, but it’s also a heart-wrenching, stomach-churning portrayal of a marriage in crisis.
The Independent *** -   James Norton and Imogen Poots excel as fraught Americans in Paris in Amy Herzog's sharp-eared study of a young marriage that is starting to unravel. [...] For my taste, the final scenes are overly melodramatic – simplifying what had been complex – and I am not sure that the entire set-up bears much scrutiny when you ponder it afterwards.  But Herzog has an excruciatingly good ear for marital strains; the acting is terrific; and Michael Longhurst paces the show absorbingly.
The Guardian *** Amy Herzog’s tale of uprooted Americans sinks into melodrama but is elevated by a central pair who reveal all the nuances of a marriage in crisis - Fortunately the acting, in Michael Longhurst’s production, is very good. Poots made an impressive West End debut earlier this year in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and once again she plays a wife slowly waking up to the truth about her husband. Physically, Poots reminds me of a young Goldie Hawn; emotionally, she has the capacity to show the accident-prone self-absorption of a certain kind of American while at same time enlisting your sympathy for her isolation. Norton, who seems to be the epitome of good-looking normality, also gradually reveals Zack’s insecurity as if peeling the layers off an onion. They make a dynamic couple and there is staunch support from Malachi Kirby as their furtively pot-smoking landlord and Faith Alabi as his watchfully censorious wife.
Evening Standard *** -  In this UK premiere of Amy Herzog’s unsettling drama there’s a fizzy chemistry between the leads. James Norton and Imogen Poots play a recently wed American couple, relishing bohemian life in Paris. They’re attractive but also maddening — Norton and Poots make their marriage seem like a grenade with the pin removed. […]  Director Michael Longhurst achieves an atmosphere of barely suppressed violence. Poots is excellent at probing Abby’s unhappy self-obsession, and Norton skilfully suggests two very different sides of Zack — a vanity that can be menacingly icy, and a fumbling, fidgety desperation.
London Theatre *** -  It’s an anxious, edgy but perplexing play about characters dancing around the abyss of their lives and failing relationship together.It is, however, at least partially redeemed by the quietly stunning performances of James Norton and Imogen Poots, two fast-rising stage and screen actors, whose naturalistic and complicated unease with each other is palpable. Also extraordinary is Malachi Kirby, named a BAFTA Breakthrough Brit in 2016, as the landlord and Faith Alabi as his partner.
TimeOut *** - Herzog and director Michael Longhurst give us a brilliantly acted but uneven psychological thriller. Norton offers a masterclass in simultaneous menace and vulnerability, a sort of millennial Willy Loman, whilst Poots is fantastic as a fraying woman gradually, agonisingly forcing herself to confront the fact that something has gone terribly awry with her life. At its best ‘Belleville’ comes close to being a perfect depiction of corrosive male narcissism. But it always backs away.
British Theatre Guide - Although it is set just before Christmas with a birth in the offing, Belleville is far, far away from the standard fare at this time of year, more likely to send audience members home in a state of shock than with a big post-panto smile on their faces.Under Michael Longhurst’s direction on a hyper-realistic set designed by Tom Scutt, Imogen Poots once again shines as moody Abby, while James Norton almost hits the same heights, although is very slightly less convincing in conveying the duality of his character’s personality.
Theatre Cat  **** - As you can tell, it’s all a bit Albee, and there is something bracingly merciless – in this age of compulsory compassion – about Herzog’s depiction of someone both mentally ill and shrilly entitled who systematically wrecks a life, marriage and indeed a flat. But it is also horribly entertaining. James Norton’s as clean-cut Zack takes a remarkable journey from calm doctorliness to utter dissolution, and Poots is fearless, pitch-perfect and generally mesmerising.   Malachi Kirby and Faith Alabi are perfect as the neighbours: younger, saner, their hardworking immigrant decency a shaming foil to the lost-soul , self-indulgent Westerneners.
The Stage ** Superbly acted and impeccable staged production of a lurid and bloodless domestic psychological thriller - The worm in the bud of romance wriggles here, too: how well do we ever know each other, however much we believe we’re in love?Yet none of it is very original, and having reached a hysterical pitch, the action is rather abruptly cut off and abandoned. Norton and Poots execute the steps of the familiar dance of deception, double bluff and crack-up with skill and conviction – both are queasily absorbing. But they’re more than this dull-edged psychodrama deserves.
Cultural Capital - What makes this a worthwhile are the two central performances from James Norton and Imogen Poots who bring credibility to their characters and help to disguise some of the weakness of the material. Actors, of course, do far more than read the words their given, with this show being a case in point, and in large part, the audience investment created at the start of the show, comes from their ability to breathe life into Abby and Zack, encouraging your interest in what happens to them. 
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