#bartholomew bogue

[sconfittoleone]

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Jasmine, palm tree, camellia! 🌻

Thank you!!

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?

I used to love The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Read it probably every summer in my teens. When I was in my early 20s, I told my then-boyfriend it was my favourite book and lent it to him so he could read this thing that I loved. Found out later that he never bothered and, in fact, kept it on the floor. My last communication with him was telling him to mail it back to me after I dumped him. It's been back on my shelf for years, but I've never reached for it again. Maybe I will someday!

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

Oooh! First one to come to mind is Peter Sarsgaard's Bartholomew Bogue in The Magnificent Seven (2016). Maybe my favourite villain of all time, just for how Sarsgaard plays him.

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

I don't remember this, but my mom tells a story of how, when I was in public school, I came home crying because a girl in my class told me she wouldn't be friends with me because I was too nice. I think I'm still that kid, and the kid a year younger than that, and the kid every year after that too. I think we drop and pick back up aspects of ourselves more than we're even aware of. So, in response to the question, yes and no haha

more get-to-know-me asks

[lighthousenewsnetwork]

In a move that has left fans scratching their heads and short players contemplating stilts, the National Basketball Association announced a groundbreaking new rule this week: dunking will only be legal for players measuring in at a towering 7 feet or taller. "We believe this rule will revolutionize the game," Commissioner Adam Silver proclaimed from his ivory tower, er, office, overlooking a regulation-sized basketball court (specifically designed for those who meet the new height requirement). "Fans crave the excitement of the slam dunk, and frankly, who wants to see a shrimp like Isaiah Thomas attempt one? It's undignified for both player and rim." Silver went on to cite "extensive research" on the dangers of dunking for players under 7 feet. This research, conducted by a team of clowns masquerading as scientists, allegedly revealed a correlation between short dunks and hangnails, bruised egos, and an unsettling lack of alley-oop opportunities. The NBA's logic, however, is as porous as a Shaq-endorsed free throw. Experts are baffled. "This rule is about as logical as wearing flip-flops to a slam dunk contest," remarked Dr. Bartholomew "Stretch" Longwood, a leading authority on human biomechanics (and coincidentally, a former professional dunker himself at a respectable 6'8"). "Athleticism and skill come in all shapes and sizes. Restricting dunking based on height is like outlawing the three-pointer for players with bad haircuts. It's discriminatory and frankly, bad for business." The impact on the league is already palpable. LeBron James, ever the innovator, has reportedly commissioned a line of custom-made platform sneakers guaranteed to grant him an extra 3 inches. Giannis Antetokounmpo, on the other hand, is rumored to be in talks with a team of orthopedic surgeons to discuss the feasibility of leg-shortening surgery. "I'm all for the team, man," stated the Greek Freak in a recent interview, "but cutting off my legs might be a step too far." Meanwhile, shorter players are left scrambling. Chris Paul, a man with handles so quick they could make a giraffe dizzy, is considering a career shift to competitive table tennis. Damian Lillard, known for raining threes from seemingly impossible angles, is looking into investing in a high-powered slingshot to launch the ball towards the basket. Fan reactions have predictably ranged from bewildered to apoplectic. Social media is awash with memes featuring photoshopped images of Muggsy Bogues performing thunderous dunks and outraged tweets demanding a #SaveTheShortKings movement. Some enterprising entrepreneurs have even started selling miniature basketball hoops for fans who still want to experience the thrill of dunking at home, albeit on a significantly smaller scale.     The NBA, however, remains unfazed by the public outcry. "We understand this is a bold move," Silver conceded, patting a miniature basketball (regulation size for him, of course) thoughtfully. "But sometimes, the best way to grow the game is to alienate a significant portion of your fanbase. It builds character." One thing's for sure: the future of basketball looks… tall. Whether this translates to a more exciting or more monotonous game remains to be seen. But one thing's for certain: fans better stock up on binoculars, because unless you're built like a redwood, the rim might as well be on the moon. Call to Action: Don't let the NBA slam dunk the fun out of basketball! Sign our online petition demanding the repeal of this ridiculous rule and join the #ShortKingsRiseUp movement. And while you're at it, maybe invest in some stocks for manufacturers of stepladders. You might just need one.

[ruinconstellation]

Fic rec: "Tall Tales" by kay_cricketed (@columbinepurples).

Fandom: The Magnificent 7 (movie 2016). Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, temporary character deaths Relationships: Vasquez/Joshua Faraday, Billy Rocks/Goodnight "Goody" Robicheaux, Sam Chisolm & Emma Cullen, Red Harvest & Jack Horne, Emma Cullen/Matthew Cullen Characters: Sam Chisolm, Vasquez, Joshua Faraday, Billy Rocks, Goodnight "Goody" Robicheaux, Emma Cullen, Red Harvest, Jack Horne, Teddy Q, Bartholomew Bogue, Denali Summary: When Rose Creek falls to the blight that is Bartholomew Bogue and his Blackstones, Emma Cullen rides out in search of men who are more than blood and bone and tooth. In the golden age of tall tales, she finds some of the tallest to lead her ragtag army, each of them with their own reason for being there. While Sam Chisolm searches for some form of justice and Goodnight Robicheaux struggles to keep his death toll in check, the silver-tongued whirlwind that is Joshua Faraday finds himself drawn to a good-natured vaquero with his own share of secrets. wordcount: 46,549.

Why I'm recommending this fic:

it is a beautiful work with amazing prose

I read the story in about three hours flat and I want you to be sucked into it too

[screencapsus]

The Magnificent Seven (2016)

Director Antoine Fuqua brings his modern vision to a classic story in The Magnificent Seven. With the town of Rose Creek under the deadly control of industrialist Bartholomew Bogue, the desperate townspeople employ protection from seven outlaws, bounty hunters, gamblers and hired guns. As they prepare the town for the violent showdown that they know is coming, these seven mercenaries find…

[porcom]

Les sept mercenaires

"L'industriel Bartholomew Bogue règne en maître sur la petite ville de Rose Creek. Pour mettre fin au despotisme de l'homme d'affaires, les habitants, désespérés, engagent sept hors-la-loi, chasseurs de primes, joueurs et tueurs à gages. Alors qu'ils se préparent pour ce qui s'annonce comme une confrontation sans pitié, ces sept mercenaires prennent conscience qu'ils se battent pour bien autre chose que l'argent."

👍 Aimé !

[batterknowsbetter]

[hush-pup-py]

Bartholomew Bogue as the demigod child of Erebus, for @purplenerd777 ‘s Magnificent Seven AU.

[soba-riri]

1877

He desperately tried to claw the ground to stall his fall. His heels dug into the earth in an attempt to slow down, but he was going too fast, tumbling heel over arse to do anything but roll down the slope like a pebble. His head hit a large rock with a loud grunt of pain. And then he was no more.

There was one long moment where he was airborne for a stretch over a few seconds or was that his head injury talking? It didn’t matter either way, because he hit the water with a painful smack. He was sinking, fading, his limbs were too heavy to help him to the surface.

So this is how he’ll die, huh? At least his pursuers weren’t chasing him anymore.

He should probably be largely alarmed at a large shadow swimming towards him, but he was slipping under the darkness of his mind to care.

When he came around again, he was coughing up water. He was fading again, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why he could breathe underwater– Oh wait. Someone kept his head above the water and was currently swimming in a direction.

“Oh good, we got a Mexican.” A voice said dryly. That, itself, should be alarming enough. It should’ve been enough for him lash out and fend off his kidnapper, but he couldn’t even open his eyes, forget about even moving limbs.

The person grunted, shifting his grip on him, “Come on, muchacho. Almost there…” His back hit land, the person dragged more of it onto the dirt as water sloshed against his legs, threatening to drag him under again. Something heavy was pressed against his chest, making a humming noise before it pulled away. Something wet brushed against his face like a hand yet it didn't feel like one. It abruptly pulled away when he coughed.

His fingers twitched and he groaned as he tried to open his eyes pass the excruciating throbbing of his head. As if reading his mind, the hand gently stroked the back of his head where his injury was. Soon the throbbing faded into a dull ache. The frown lines he didn’t know he was making, smooth out gradually.

“I got you. You’re gonna be alright.” Soft and gentle the voice was, opposed to the grumbling and quips the stranger made while dragging him to shore. Most of them flew over his head or he just wasn’t able to catch.

Peering through slitted eyes, he could vaguely make out a red cloth of sorts hovering over him, the bright sun overhead and his hazy vision make it impossible to make out the stranger’s face. His eyes fell shut again, an alarmed voice echoed from afar as he floated away.

The next time he was awake, he wasn’t even sure if he was conscious or just another dream. He was in the woods or a place with a lot of trees. The scent of burning firewood caught his attention, making him sluggishly turn his head to see the figure’s back to him, donning a red feathered cloak. From the tone of their voice before, he was sure the person before him, was a man. Was he an Indian? But the fair-skinned hand the tossed another piece of wood into the fire told him otherwise.

He seemed to be cooking something but obviously, he couldn’t see what it was with the figure in the way. If the stranger knew he was awake, he showed no indication. The figure started humming. After a short while of listening, the man drifted off again.

When he woke up again, he felt refreshed as if the whole incident never happened. There was no pain, no blood, no indication that he just went tumbling down the slope to his death only to be saved by a red-cloaked figure that is nowhere to be seen.

He quickly patted himself down, settling down when nothing was stolen. He sat in silence, contemplating.

If it wasn’t for those cooked fishes laid out on a leaf, he would believe that it was all just a dream.

Or was it? Vasquez wondered. But this incident would fade from his mind with time, he had to keep moving in search of jobs. But if he ever came across whoever saved a person such as he… well… Thank them of course and pay them back. He never did like owing anyone.

✢✢✢✢

Have you ever believed in the tales that traveled through the air? Tales of ghosts, spirits, creatures that hide in plain sight. Like how you can still hear the dead miners’ footsteps, running through the tunnels, still trying to find a way out. Or how the wife of Victor Jones mourns for her deceased family well after death. Or creatures that drain your blood dry at the dark of the night.

Or even a particular one. They say that a beautiful voice could be heard at a nearby river or stream. A song that beckons stray wanderers far from home, never to be seen again.

“You don’t really believe in shit like that, do you?” A voice laughed, clear and sweet, almost like a melody. If one would even bother to listen closely. The sounds of glass being set down on the table was heard on the man’s far left.

“Who knows,” He chuckled gruffly, “I have yet to see such a thing with my own eyes. But I don’t doubt that there are things out there that hide from us.”

A different voice piped up, “Like outlaws and animals, right?” The whole table broke into snorts and chuckles. Some threw down some more coins to the pile at the center of the table.

The man shifted through his hand, adjusting the cards to where he wants them, “They say if you come across one, death is afoot.”

Some shook their heads at the claim as the first voice spoke up again in mirth, “Death is only afoot ‘cause some are foolish enough to wander deep into the woods where there are wild animals waitin’ to feast!”

The hefty laugh erupted around the table, “So some say, so some say.”

The owner of the first voice took a swing of his glass, a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes as he set it down, “If there’s one thin’ I believe in,” He spread out his cards on the table for all to see, “It’s that I won.”

Loud groans and grumbles sounded as those who haven’t folded, threw down their cards. Some looked at their hand in annoyance.

The chair made a loud grating noise as it slid backward, “Well, good sirs, it’s been mighty fun playin’ with y’all, but bedtime is callin’.” The figure tipped his hat slightly. He just set one foot out the door before a voice from the table.

“Ya ain’t cheatin’ are ya, son?”

Amusement flickered in the man’s green eyes from under his hat. His lips curled into a wicked grin, “No gentlemen. You’re just poor at the game.” And he bolted out of there before it could turn into a fist fight with him in the middle.

His giddy laughter rang loudly to the night sky.

♠ ♧ ♥ ♢ ♠

Joshua Faraday is many things. A gambler, a drunker, a magician, a free spirit and one hell of a gunslinger with a self-proclaimed title as The World’s Greatest Lover.

Faraday was never afraid of walking straight into the line of fire. He was confident in his aim, confident that no bullet could ever touch him.

He was a gambler and that’s how he always won, one way or another. He ain’t no fool, but it benefits him that others think so. They never know what was coming before it was too late. The boy cheated death more times than one could count. Devil’s luck as one would say.

Faraday was many things, but he was no settler. He would be in town one week only to vanish in the next. No matter where he disappeared off to, he would always reappear in a saloon, holding cards in his hands as he sipped on his glass of whiskey.

And so he will continue to travel as such, with Ethel and Maria by his waist, Jack the Horse by his side and his trusty deck of cards in his pocket. And of course, the small bag slung over his shoulder that he always carried around. The one that he never let anyone take from him. Ever.

Until he met Bartholomew Bogue in 1878, soaked to the bone like a wet cat, held at gunpoint while the item in his bag was wrapped around the man’s fist like a prize.

He dreadfully stared at his precious cloak as he was violently dragged into Bogue’s care.

✢✢✢✢

1879 - Rose Creek

He stood in the back as Bogue droned on to the townfolks about land. McCann was beside him flicking around his knife with a threatening air. Also babysitting him, per usual. Well, if it wasn’t him then it was Denali. He actually prefers Denali over McCann because at least he’s quiet and wasn’t looking to start any fights unless Faraday started shit. But Denali was still a bitch, just the lesser of two evils.

His hands curled into fists as voices raised to protest against the man’s offer. Theft more like. Of course, he would’ve joined in as well, if it wasn’t for the lower face mask that prevented him from speaking, much less move his jaw. He turned his glaring eyes at the floor as Bogue drawled on above the voices. Gunshots rang in the air, making Faraday flinched involuntary, something that didn’t go noticed by McCann who smirked.

If only his glare could burn holes.

A hand curled around the back on his neck, the unexpected touch made him flinch. The ginger tensed as fingers brushed against his brand before Bogue was satisfied enough to push him forward, “Come.”

He resisted in making a growling noise. He didn’t need Bogue to guide him out, thank you very much. What he saw when he stepped outside was infuriating. He took an unconscious step towards the group beating the preacher. As if reading his mind, Bogue pushed him over to his right-hand man, who kept a firm grip on his arms.

McCann shook him once to cease his struggling, the tightening of his grip was his only warning. Faraday closed his eyes briefly when Bogue’s men ran past with torches to set the church ablaze. He swallowed the lump in his throat, fist clenching and unclenching as he pushed his Irish temper down.

Bogue’s voice rang through the commotion, slimy and oily as it always is. Sometimes Faraday wondered if Bogue ever heard himself and hated his own voice. Faraday struggled a bit when McCann pushed him forward. He got two working legs, thank you. He wanted to say, but all there was, was a grunt. This goddamn shitty mask.

“Move faster then, boy.” At least McCann got the message.

The Irishman rolled his eyes but complied. The faster they get out of here, the less he got to worry about Bogue spilling innocent blood because foolish people tried to rebel without a plan.

“What kind of man are you?”

Dread seeped into the pits of his stomach when they turn to see one of the townsfolk standing tall with righteousness and anger for his people. An admirable thing, but oh so foolish.

“What these people ever do to you?!” The man was too focused on Bogue to catch the warning look Faraday was giving him. Faraday whipped his head to Bogue instead, reaching out to stop him but McCann’s grip was on him again.

“Behave.” He was told in a low mutter. He growled in response.

Dread increased with every step Bogue took, his breath caught in his throat when Bogue pushed his coat aside to reveal his gun. Faraday wrenched out of McCann’s grasp when the man went down with a bullet hole in his chest. A woman’s cry of grief rang in the air along with gunshots.

His hands were over the man’s chest, over the wound, the man’s body was still warm. He tried to focus, tried to gather the sparing warmth to his fingers, to save this man’s life.

Fingers gripped the back of his mask and jerked him back to temporary catch Bogue’s eyes before he backhanded the ginger so hard he toppled to the ground. The iron piece in his mouth prevented him from biting his own tongue.

As he pushed himself up to his knees, he watched helplessly as Bogue fired another bullet into the man’s body, followed by another cry of grief. A woman ran over and threw herself over her husband. He turned his face to the ground and shut his eyes from the scene.

A burst of pain bloomed where a foot connected with his bum leg, his fingers dug into it as his head curled into his chest, unsuccessfully holding back strangled cry. He didn’t get the luxury to recover as he was pulled to his feet with a death grip on his arm. He found himself staring into Bogue’s furious eyes.

“Looks like I still need to remind you who you belong to.” He growled. From afar, McCann’s lips held a cocky smirk while Denali’s expression was flat, bored and ready to move on. As he stumbled along, he refused to look behind him. The cries of grief were far more painful than the ones in his leg.

“Leave the body where they lay.” Bouge murmured to the sheriff, “Let them look at them for a few days.”

Faraday could only hang his head in defeat. The bell fell as an echo. The ginger let Bogue dragged him into the saloon as the roaring the flames blended with the cries of grief.

[hellacluttered]

Mag7 Rock Band AU headcanons

Written with the wonderful @rosecreeksashes <3

Goodnight Robicheaux - a rocker that's past his prime. He was successful but his band split up and he burned out, but kept struggling to make music. At the last show he played, the crowd was tiny and he left feeling like he put his heart into it but it wasn't enough. The drummer quits promptly after the show, and Goodnight gives up.

Red Harvest - a street performer that sparks Goody's love of music again. He's insanely talented and he has a great work ethic, but he needs a mentor, someone who's both good at music and experienced in the industry, and that's where Goody comes in.

Sam Chisolm - a music exec, one of Goody's best friends from back in the day. Once Goodnight and Red Harvest start to work together and results show, they come to Sam to see if he can help them out. He takes it upon himself to assemble the rest of their group, and bring them into the public eye.

Vasquez - a songwriter that Sam invites to join the project both because he's extremely talented and because he's more up-to-date with the industry and trends in music than Goody is. At first he and Goodnight severely clash, but eventually they begin to get along, and they realize how well their styles of songwriting can complement each other's as they gain respect for one another.

Joshua Faraday - an experienced if somewhat non-conventional stage production guy. He takes care of lights, sound, pyrotechnics (his trademark is LOTS of fire), and he also happily serves as moral support for the group, although once in awhile he's even more sullen than they are.

Jack Horne - a roadie and security man who has a fairly distinguished past in music. He always worked a lot behind the scenes- producing, arranging, etc. - and he knows how the minds of musicians work. He ends up a friend and mentor to most of the members of the group both because of that, and because he always seems to be able to keep any problem in perspective and offer good advice on it.

Billy Rocks - Goody's closest friend and biggest supporter. He gave up on music awhile ago to get a steady job, but he knows Goody still has it (and he plays music from Goody's old band sometimes just to annoy him). He's always pushing Goodnight to keep trying, keep working, keep struggling with the music that's still inside him, to get it out before it eats him up. If it wasn't for Billy, Goodnight would have given up on music a long time ago and never gotten back to it.

Bartholomew Bogue - a self-centered, self-promoting, and extremely aggressive exec at the same label Sam works under.

Matthew Cullen & Teddy Q - A musical duo who, after finding some success after many years of working together, were offered a contract by Bogue. They accepted, but after he gained legal rights to their music, he dropped them on a technicality, and used their music for another group he was working with. Years' worth of songwriting gone to waste, Matthew and Teddy both quit music.

Emma Cullen - a reporter who found from her husband's personal experience exactly how Bogue works. As soon as he tries to threaten Sam and his new group, whom she grew close with over a series of interviews and time spent hanging out, she releases the story of what he did to Matthew's group. Between that and the immediate success of Sam's group, Bogue is brought down and fired.

[kirayamidemon]

Mag7 with glasses: Asshole Version

Cause I just couldn’t stop at the original Mag7 chars, of course not

Original 7 with Glasses here

[tkreactions-blog]

Their Reaction to You Being Kidnapped (Mag 7)

Scenario: It was late at night, your partner was out taking care of business while you held down the fort. You intended to stay up in order to hear how things went and make sure there was nothing else needed for the job. Instead, you ended up falling asleep. While your partner was still out, someone else came in and took you away.

Sam Chisolm

Chisolm felt foolish for letting his guard down and putting you in harm’s way. He was instantly angry and worried and didn’t waste a moment of time. He already knew who it was, a business associate of the man he had been confronting, and he vowed he wouldn’t let them get away with it. And in the end, he fulfilled that vow, making sure you were safely with him once again.

Joshua Faraday

Faraday was a bit delayed in trying to rescue you. At first, he thought you finally decided to run off and try to find something better, not that he particularly didn’t like the life you two lived. Once he realized what actually happened, however, he immediately headed out to face the person who kidnapped you. You knew Faraday had his serious side, but when you saw him that day coming to save you, you realized just how scary that side could be.

Vasquez

Vasquez lost it when he saw that you were gone. He could see obvious signs of a struggle and felt some relief that you had tried to fight your way out of it, but it made him worry more than whoever took you was going to hurt you. It took him some time fo figure out exactly who took you and why, but once he knew, he came up with a plan and ensured that he got you back.

Goodnight Robicheaux

For a moment, Goodnight didn’t know what to do. He never expected someone to come and take you away in the middle of the night, but as soon as he regained his senses, both he and Billy were headed out to get you. Goodnight was ready to just kill everyone and take you back to safety, but Billy made sure it was a little less rash and a little more thought out, leaving you all as safe as possible in the end.

Billy Rocks

Billy first went to Goodnight when he noticed you were gone. He figured it would be better to have a plan and someone to help, rather than just rushing in and hoping for the best. Goodnight wanted to just run in, but he listened to Billy, who managed to keep a level head despite his worry for you.

Jack Horne

Jack grabbed his hatchet at the first sign that you were missing. He always did his best to make sure you were looked after and weren’t in harm’s way so seeing that you were gone, and signs of a struggle, left him with emotions he didn’t really like. He was angry and he was worried and he focused solely on getting you back and making sure that you were alright and well rested after everything.

Red Harvest

Red Harvest remained completely calm when he noticed you were missing. He wondered at first if you had left, but he noticed there were other tracks with yours. He followed them, noticing that yours didn’t seem entirely of your own will. It didn’t take him long to track you and the men who took you down, and it didn’t take long before you were free again either.

Emma Cullen

Emma felt panic when she noticed you were gone. She was neither helpless nor alone in the situation, but she feared the worst after everything that she had been through. Calling on Teddy, the two of them set out to get you back and make sure that you were well.

Teddy Q

Teddy didn’t really understand why someone would kidnap you, but he soon realized that figuring it out wasn’t the important part. The important part was getting you back safe and sound. He called on Emma and the two of them set out to get you back, though Teddy did most of the freeing you and Emma did most of the fighting.

Bartholomew Bogue

Bogue was not a happy man when he arrived back at home and found his men trying to explain why you were missing it. It probably goes without saying that someone didn’t make it out of that discussion alive. Bogue made sure that the people who took you faced the best men he could hire and made a message out of it to all who were foolish enough to kidnap you again.

[voteforintensepuppets]

About a month ago, I went to New Orleans. The Mag7 fangirl in me was super excited because even though they destroyed the Rose Creek set after filming, that was, you know, where Goody lived. I did some things around the area, one of them being a visit to this plantation (Nottoway).

Pretty cool, definitely one of my favorite parts of my trip. 

Well anyway…I’m watching Mag7 with my grandfather for the who-knows-what time when it gets to the part where they show Bogue’s house. My jaw hit the floor because it looks a little like this:

Explains how Goody knew Bogue… 

[oceluna]

The Magnificent Seven + Arrested Development Quotes

[hunny-pp]

Sam Chisolm for the ask meme? if some1 already sent him, trash man Bogue?

GIVE ME A CHARACTER;  and I’ll break their ass down:

Boop Boops:

How I feel about this character: What a  b i t c h, like honestly!! This motherfucker is so good at being a trash man like god dammit it I’m so mad. Also I liked his lines, rly intense like ‘If God didn’t want them sheared, then why did he make sheep?’ gave me shivers down my spines like jesus fuck. Also his outfit looks rly good, I want his coat but he did horrible things while wearing it so nah.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: The hands he’s gonna catch before it slaps the bitch outta him, like lol bye Hailey

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Denali and his trashman gang

My unpopular opinion about this character: Idk if this is unpopular or not (hell he’s not popular) but Sarsgaard did a really good job playing him

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wanted everyone in Rose Creek and the mag7 to kick him right in the nuts, proper and good, no take-backsies

[spaceportfloozy]

The Magnificent Seven | Troubled Birds (Part 1/?)