#basically... just uses cynic as a way to prop himself up and look better by comparison

[cynicallyscorned]

frankly? if he met sterling the same way sonic meets 'anti-sonic' in archie his actual opinion of scourge would have been radically changed from 'i like you you seem cool' to 'jesus christ leave me alone'

[tainted-sentimientos]

Barack Obama’s DNC Speech

“Good evening, everybody. As you've seen by now, this isn't a normal convention. It's not a normal time. So tonight, I want to talk as plainly as I can about the stakes in this election. Because what we do these next 76 days will echo through generations to come.

I'm in Philadelphia, where our Constitution was drafted and signed. It wasn't a perfect document. It allowed for the inhumanity of slavery and failed to guarantee women -- and even men who didn't own property -- the right to participate in the political process. But embedded in this document was a North Star that would guide future generations; a system of representative government -- a democracy -- through which we could better realize our highest ideals. Through civil war and bitter struggles, we improved this Constitution to include the voices of those who'd once been left out. And gradually, we made this country more just, more equal, and more free.

The one Constitutional office elected by all of the people is the presidency. So at minimum, we should expect a president to feel a sense of responsibility for the safety and welfare of all 330 million of us -- regardless of what we look like, how we worship, who we love, how much money we have -- or who we voted for.

But we should also expect a president to be the custodian of this democracy. We should expect that regardless of ego, ambition, or political beliefs, the president will preserve, protect, and defend the freedoms and ideals that so many Americans marched for and went to jail for; fought for and died for.

I have sat in the Oval Office with both of the men who are running for president. I never expected that my successor would embrace my vision or continue my policies. I did hope, for the sake of our country, that Donald Trump might show some interest in taking the job seriously; that he might come to feel the weight of the office and discover some reverence for the democracy that had been placed in his care.

But he never did. For close to four years now, he's shown no interest in putting in the work; no interest in finding common ground; no interest in using the awesome power of his office to help anyone but himself and his friends; no interest in treating the presidency as anything but one more reality show that he can use to get the attention he craves.

Donald Trump hasn't grown into the job because he can't. And the consequences of that failure are severe. 170,000 Americans dead. Millions of jobs gone while those at the top take in more than ever. Our worst impulses unleashed, our proud reputation around the world badly diminished, and our democratic institutions threatened like never before.

Now, I know that in times as polarized as these, most of you have already made up your mind. But maybe you're still not sure which candidate you'll vote for -- or whether you'll vote at all. Maybe you're tired of the direction we're headed, but you can't see a better path yet, or you just don't know enough about the person who wants to lead us there.

So let me tell you about my friend Joe Biden.

Twelve years ago, when I began my search for a vice president, I didn't know I'd end up finding a brother. Joe and I came from different places and different generations. But what I quickly came to admire about him is his resilience, born of too much struggle; his empathy, born of too much grief. Joe's a man who learned -- early on -- to treat every person he meets with respect and dignity, living by the words his parents taught him: "No one's better than you, Joe, but you're better than nobody."

That empathy, that decency, the belief that everybody counts -- that's who Joe is.

When he talks with someone who's lost her job, Joe remembers the night his father sat him down to say that he'd lost his.

When Joe listens to a parent who's trying to hold it all together right now, he does it as the single dad who took the train back to Wilmington each and every night so he could tuck his kids into bed.

When he meets with military families who've lost their hero, he does it as a kindred spirit; the parent of an American soldier; somebody whose faith has endured the hardest loss there is.

For eight years, Joe was the last one in the room whenever I faced a big decision. He made me a better president -- and he's got the character and the experience to make us a better country.

And in my friend Kamala Harris, he's chosen an ideal partner who's more than prepared for the job; someone who knows what it's like to overcome barriers and who's made a career fighting to help others live out their own American dream.

Along with the experience needed to get things done, Joe and Kamala have concrete policies that will turn their vision of a better, fairer, stronger country into reality.

They'll get this pandemic under control, like Joe did when he helped me manage H1N1 and prevent an Ebola outbreak from reaching our shores.

They'll expand health care to more Americans, like Joe and I did ten years ago when he helped craft the Affordable Care Act and nail down the votes to make it the law.

They'll rescue the economy, like Joe helped me do after the Great Recession. I asked him to manage the Recovery Act, which jumpstarted the longest stretch of job growth in history. And he sees this moment now not as a chance to get back to where we were, but to make long-overdue changes so that our economy actually makes life a little easier for everybody -- whether it's the waitress trying to raise a kid on her own, or the shift worker always on the edge of getting laid off, or the student figuring out how to pay for next semester's classes.

Joe and Kamala will restore our standing in the world -- and as we've learned from this pandemic, that matters. Joe knows the world, and the world knows him. He knows that our true strength comes from setting an example the world wants to follow. A nation that stands with democracy, not dictators. A nation that can inspire and mobilize others to overcome threats like climate change, terrorism, poverty, and disease.

But more than anything, what I know about Joe and Kamala is that they actually care about every American. And they care deeply about this democracy.

They believe that in a democracy, the right to vote is sacred, and we should be making it easier for people to cast their ballot, not harder.

They believe that no one -- including the president -- is above the law, and that no public official -- including the president -- should use their office to enrich themselves or their supporters.

They understand that in this democracy, the Commander-in-Chief doesn't use the men and women of our military, who are willing to risk everything to protect our nation, as political props to deploy against peaceful protesters on our own soil. They understand that political opponents aren't "un-American" just because they disagree with you; that a free press isn't the "enemy" but the way we hold officials accountable; that our ability to work together to solve big problems like a pandemic depends on a fidelity to facts and science and logic and not just making stuff up.

None of this should be controversial. These shouldn't be Republican principles or Democratic principles. They're American principles. But at this moment, this president and those who enable him, have shown they don't believe in these things.

Tonight, I am asking you to believe in Joe and Kamala's ability to lead this country out of these dark times and build it back better. But here's the thing: no single American can fix this country alone. Not even a president. Democracy was never meant to be transactional -- you give me your vote; I make everything better. It requires an active and informed citizenry. So I am also asking you to believe in your own ability -- to embrace your own responsibility as citizens -- to make sure that the basic tenets of our democracy endure.

Because that's what at stake right now. Our democracy.

Look, I understand why many Americans are down on government. The way the rules have been set up and abused in Congress make it easy for special interests to stop progress. Believe me, I know. I understand why a white factory worker who's seen his wages cut or his job shipped overseas might feel like the government no longer looks out for him, and why a Black mother might feel like it never looked out for her at all. I understand why a new immigrant might look around this country and wonder whether there's still a place for him here; why a young person might look at politics right now, the circus of it all, the meanness and the lies and crazy conspiracy theories and think, what's the point?

Well, here's the point: this president and those in power -- those who benefit from keeping things the way they are -- they are counting on your cynicism. They know they can't win you over with their policies. So they're hoping to make it as hard as possible for you to vote, and to convince you that your vote doesn't matter. That's how they win. That's how they get to keep making decisions that affect your life, and the lives of the people you love. That's how the economy will keep getting skewed to the wealthy and well-connected, how our health systems will let more people fall through the cracks. That's how a democracy withers, until it's no democracy at all.

We can't let that happen. Do not let them take away your power. Don't let them take away your democracy. Make a plan right now for how you're going to get involved and vote. Do it as early as you can and tell your family and friends how they can vote too. Do what Americans have done for over two centuries when faced with even tougher times than this -- all those quiet heroes who found the courage to keep marching, keep pushing in the face of hardship and injustice.

Last month, we lost a giant of American democracy in John Lewis. Some years ago, I sat down with John and the few remaining leaders of the early Civil Rights Movement. One of them told me he never imagined he'd walk into the White House and see a president who looked like his grandson. Then he told me that he'd looked it up, and it turned out that on the very day that I was born, he was marching into a jail cell, trying to end Jim Crow segregation in the South.

What we do echoes through the generations.

Whatever our backgrounds, we're all the children of Americans who fought the good fight. Great grandparents working in firetraps and sweatshops without rights or representation. Farmers losing their dreams to dust. Irish and Italians and Asians and Latinos told to go back where they came from. Jews and Catholics, Muslims and Sikhs, made to feel suspect for the way they worshipped. Black Americans chained and whipped and hanged. Spit on for trying to sit at lunch counters. Beaten for trying to vote.

If anyone had a right to believe that this democracy did not work, and could not work, it was those Americans. Our ancestors. They were on the receiving end of a democracy that had fallen short all their lives. They knew how far the daily reality of America strayed from the myth. And yet, instead of giving up, they joined together and said somehow, some way, we are going to make this work. We are going to bring those words, in our founding documents, to life.

I've seen that same spirit rising these past few years. Folks of every age and background who packed city centers and airports and rural roads so that families wouldn't be separated. So that another classroom wouldn't get shot up. So that our kids won't grow up on an uninhabitable planet. Americans of all races joining together to declare, in the face of injustice and brutality at the hands of the state, that Black Lives Matter, no more, but no less, so that no child in this country feels the continuing sting of racism.

To the young people who led us this summer, telling us we need to be better -- in so many ways, you are this country's dreams fulfilled. Earlier generations had to be persuaded that everyone has equal worth. For you, it's a given -- a conviction. And what I want you to know is that for all its messiness and frustrations, your system of self-government can be harnessed to help you realize those convictions.

You can give our democracy new meaning. You can take it to a better place. You're the missing ingredient -- the ones who will decide whether or not America becomes the country that fully lives up to its creed.

That work will continue long after this election. But any chance of success depends entirely on the outcome of this election. This administration has shown it will tear our democracy down if that's what it takes to win. So we have to get busy building it up -- by pouring all our effort into these 76 days, and by voting like never before -- for Joe and Kamala, and candidates up and down the ticket, so that we leave no doubt about what this country we love stands for -- today and for all our days to come.

Stay safe. God bless.”

- Former President Barack Obama

To the decided:

To the undecided:

To the opposed:

[plainvanillapotato]

the 100 diaries S1 E13

quarantine diaries: may 26 2020

season 1 episode 13: “We Are Grounders: Part II”

I can’t believe im already at the season 1 finale

starting strong with raven and clarke cauterizing her wound. are they really going to paralyze raven? no wait please tell me that she becomes a cyborg.

ooo the tension between finn and bellamy. FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT! hmmph. fine clarke be the killjoy and break up the fight between youre boyfriends.

i dont like mama clarke and daddy bellamy fighting and disagreeing. it is not productive for your group of kids especially with the grounders coming. i like that clarke balances out bellamy’s negativity tho. way to stay positive. i could never cuz im quite the cynic if y’all if haven’t figured that out yet 

was that fire and steam scene (3:50) necessary? im not a big outdoorsy person but im pretty sure that that amount of steam of excessive. i mean it did look cool tho and dramatic af

what is this music? what is with all the slow-mo the editing team really be trying to make walking through the forest super cool and epic when it really isnt

honestly these kids are doing better than the adults. cuz its chaos up there in the ark.

shitttt when that grounder throwing star came and killed that guy.

wow they ran back to camp. soo basically the past ten minutes have been useless. like they really be lets move out and retreat then 5 minutes later be like nvm that was a bad idea lets go back to where its safe and we actually have a chance to fight back. and bet bellamy was like I FUCKING TOLD YOU! CLARKE YOU IGNORANT SLUT! *sorry another office reference

haha finn did a double face palm when clarke agreed with bellamy (7:00)

wow these cuts these editors are just adding new styles.

bellamy’s little makeshift war table is too cute. i wonder if he had individual figurines of himself, clarke, and the other main characters. 

also i feel like raven is highly underappreciated. like she is essentially a one-woman show for all things mechanical and weaponry. literally if raven did not come down from the ark when she did. the 100 wouldnt even stand a chance. i honestly think that they’d all be dead already. however then again it was raven’s idea with the flares that ignited this war so......but who am i kidding if it werent the flares the 100 themselves would have found another way to piss of the grounders and start a war sooner or later

ring of fire. i see that raven also watched finding nemo

bbq grounders and raven sayin “ill cook them real good” i thought this was supposed to be feminist show so why they keeping raven in the kitchen? jk jk

finn being a noble dumbass. i stan. but woah! woah woah! finn be out here flirting with clarke and raven at the same time. in the same place. right in front of each other. slow your roll mister. 

that awkward moment when the ark didn’t launch. oof. cant relate.

kane touching everyone's hands very anti-corona. but then it was all for nothing. jaha coming to stealing his thunder leaving kane lookin like a fool. jaha giving me captain america vibez rn. also star trek. 

friendly reminder that chris hemsworth played chris pine’s father

when jaha said “and ill see my son” rip wells rip. the writers did him dirty :(

grounders be confident enough to announce their arrival with their drums. they should be tho cuz this kids. they aren’t reaaaady

raven having a quarter life crisis about she used to always being first and now ending up where she is now. i felt that. bitch me in college is not a good look. but also when clarke said “id pick you first” we love sisters supporting sisters. imagine if this is sparks a relationship between them. like they both realize how dumb finn is and they decide that they should just get together as a big fuck you to finn. 

ooo karma is a bitch murphy. 

i love how anya be a wearing a crown on the battle field. shes a queen and she knows it.

this attack between the grounders and the 100 be like the battle at winterfell in GoT (”the long night”) but just scaled down and with guns. i say this because in both that its seems like an impossible fight but also because its hard to see all the action with this poor lighting

nooooow finn listens to bellamy. thats when you know he’s desperate

wow i can’t believe these kids are actually listening to clarke cuz bitch you know if i saw those grounders coming at me you better your ass that i be running to that drop ship for cover. this kids really do have more balls than me.

they’re playing some hallelujah music while they watch the ark descend to earth. waht? then it cuts to some of the people exploding as some of the ark re enters the atmosphere. may we meet again. 

how the hell did licoln find her in the mist of all this chaos? oh i know. lincoln be that weird ass person that can track a person based on their scent and you know octavia hasn’t showered in days so you know her stench is potent. aaahh the smell of true love. 

aww bellamy apologized about to octavia and his “my life ended when you were born” we love a king that apologizes. really tho. not a lot of male characters apologizes for the messed up things they do/say. i stan.

goodbye octavia may you become a badass next time we meet. 

ooo prettyboy bellamy no and finn too. ooh. i know they have to survive for the plot. but i dont like it when found families get separated 

this was me watching my bois bellamy and finn getting the living hell beaten out of them by the grounders and not making it back to the dropship

did anya really go in there thinking that she could take on all these kids with guns and no supervision. but i mean if anyone could it would be this queen.

“we are not grounders” i think the title of the episode would disagree with you clarke 

props to that stuntman. that fire looks hella hot.

don’t tell me that the air is sweet. put on a damn mask abby don’t you know that its corona season.

welp there goes my ship between kane and jaha. damn it. i mean i guess they could have a really short (timing-wise) but very loooooooong distance relationship. cheers to you thelonius. may we meet again. pour one out for me.

these mountain men have smoke grenades and lasers and guns and gas masks. modern warfare the writers said.

clarke in the good place?

van gogh. starry night. is this just random or is there actual relevance/hidden symbolism behind this. cuz if the latter im picking up on nothing.

monty!!!! He liiiiiivveeeees so...

quarantine ward! Mount Weather?! what the fuck i going on?

[cherubcow]

“Wild Mountain Thyme” (2020) Movie Review

This was a beautiful one :)

The script moves very quickly with a lot of meaningful dialogue that doesn't really get center stage in the direction (like, for example, a character will say something poetic that you can easily miss if you're not paying attention; like, "I'm half-dying with living for you"), so it may get better with multiple viewings or better with the subtitles on. I suspect that this understating of dialogue was part of why this movie isn't doing well right now (current Rotten Tomatoes: 27% critics / 44% audience); people may just not have heard what the actors were saying.

Another factor may be that this movie rejects the cynicism that's become mandatory in America cinema. The central character, Rosemary (Emily Blunt), actually believes in love, which has become something rejected by the American (pseudo?)-intellectual class. This puts her character in contrast to NYC American Adam (Jon Hamm), who considers marriage in terms of beneficial contracts. Adam is, nevertheless, enchanted with the romanticism of Ireland, being drawn to Rosemary and to farming even though he has no rational reason to pursue business in Ireland (a "blood from a stone" situation). So it's both a matter of city versus country and of its underlying rationalism versus romanticism — a good bounding for a story, particularly in times when overzealous declarations of most "rational" practices can reduce one to imagination-stifling thoughts.

(( Spoilers ))

This overly self-absorbed thought pattern emerges through Anthony (Jamie Dornan), who, like Dostoevsky's "Notes from Underground" character, finds himself all too concerned with what is correct or whether or not he is right to even want the things that he wants. This is summed nicely in one particular exchange between Rosemary and Anthony:

[Anthony]: (Speaking of manual labor that Rosemary has been doing alone) "It's a two-man job." [Rosemary]: "Or one woman." [Anthony]: "Yup, that's the world now. Men are useless." [Rosemary]: "It's not so." [Anthony]: "What?" [Rosemary]: "Men aren't useless." [Anthony]: "What's a man for now? What's his place?" [Rosemary]: "That's for you to say." [Anthony]: "I'm not talking; maybe the quiet around the thing is as important as the thing itself."

This exchange points out the difficult position men (and people in general) have been put in by today's social conventions. Perhaps some would like to think that adherence to social convention ended in Jane Austen's time, yet here Anthony finds himself threading a needle. All the roads have been closed behind him, and he feels like he has no voice. People cannot even talk about the things that ail them, because pitfalls emerge at every step. Like the crows above them, no amount of answering to the mob will produce clarity of action. But Rosemary tries to guide him:

[Rosemary]: "Do you still hear the voice in the fields?" [Anthony]: "I dunno." [Rosemary]: "It's not a modern idea." [Anthony]: "I'm not a modern man." [Rosemary]: "You have the farm." [Anthony]: "I do?" [Rosemary]: "Are you happy?" [Anthony]: "No." [Rosemary]: "Why not go ahead, be happy?" [Anthony]: "I— I don't know how." [Rosemary]: "There is no one left to catch you laughing, Anthony." [Anthony]: "True." [Rosemary]: "How many days do we have while the sun shines?" [Anthony]: (Looking at the weather) "It's not shining." [Rosemary]: (Looking at Anthony) "I believe that it is."

The "voice in the fields" speaks of Anthony's romantic desire for freedom, and it is revealed near the end that the voice tells him not just, "Go," but, "Go to her." Meaning, Anthony knows that he loves Rosemary and wants to be with her despite the obstacles that others and he himself construct, but, like the fence was revealed to be in this particular scene, his "Notes from Underground" social conscience is the great barrier between himself and Rosemary. And he wants to be able to love her *not* because a marriage would be useful or to otherwise manage the practical considerations of a farm — he is instead *waiting* to clear his conscience of these worldly affairs so that he can look directly at her. Essentially, like many people trapped in Hamlet inaction, he is waiting to be forgotten and to die.

It later takes a concerted effort by Rosemary to break Anthony from this mental trap. Comedies have all the time in the world, but the timeline has to be compressed into tragic logic because Adam will be arriving to propose marriage. Rosemary hints that she cannot wait for Anthony forever. They've arrived at a Thanatos / Eros crossroads where Rosemary can either kill herself with a hidden shotgun (albeit not immediately), due to the burdens of isolation, or end up like Fiona — pulled away from Anthony by the world and another marriage opportunity. Rosemary has Anthony's ring, so she knows that he wants to marry her, so she wants to help him work through his conscience to find her. The metaphoric "fences" will remain, but it's not hopeless:

[Rosemary]: "We say what's meant. Life is here. We name it."

Like I mentioned with the cynicism above, American culture has attempted to crush this level of devotion. The very idea that someone could love someone this much for so long has been treated with general critical derision. But the story alleviates this perspective through Anthony's own incredulity, Emily Blunt's performance, and a charming Irish backdrop.

Even so, the movie has its issues. A lot of the scenes were directed like one might direct a theater play rather than a movie. Errors like the actors having to move in overly blocked (positioned) ways or the lines being too melodramatic for the moment occur. Of the blocking issue, one scene in particular was the near-end scene of Anthony and Rosemary in a home together. 

There was a little too much attention on standing and sitting here, with the object awareness being a little too simplistic — the sort of imagery which works on stage but not on film. Like, "[Oh, you sit now while I stand. Then I tell you to sit, and you sit. When you stand, I notice how tall you are.]" These make sense on stages where the script fell together with basic props like a table and chairs, but in a real home they end up feeling artificial. These sorts of scenes should have been re-worked when this story was brought to screenplay.

The background music was also often problematic. In many scenes it was just *too* responsive to the on-screen events, which speaks of low production value. This seems to fall on the musical direction of Amelia Warner, because much of the Irish folk music (which was good) was already incorporated into the script. Those organic moments made sense and worked, like Emily Blunt singing the movie's title song in probably the most emotional scene of the movie.

And casting issues cannot be ignored. This was not exactly a "Waking Ned Devine" (1998) Irish story that recruited mainly unknown or lesser known quirky actors from Ireland and Scotland. Christopher Walken, for instance, should not have been in this movie, though his performance did come together for the pub singing scene. Weirdly, Emily Blunt gave the best performance in this movie, and she's from Britain. Jamie Dornan is Irish, so that made sense, but while viewers could believe Emily Blunt's loving glances in his direction, whenever Blunt and Dornan actually touched each other there seemed to be no chemistry. Those scenes looked more like two actors not sure how real vs. respectful they should be and defaulting on the side of "[make just enough contact to get us to the cut]." This falls to both casting and (again) to direction. A better cast may have had chemistry, and a better director could get the actors to show that chemistry. Personally, I think they should have gone full local and hired only unknown actors and actresses from Ireland. Extra points if even the American character had been played by an Irishman pretending to be American ;D

Still! All said, despite these issues, it has a very strong script. *Reading* the words really shows how much was here. Long though this review may be, it doesn't show just how much material was in this script. And Emily Blunt's performance can't be ignored; it was really her movie. So I'd ignore the current rankings and recommend this for a good romantic movie with clever dialogue and a few moving moments :)

[fandammit]

Handle with care

[Schneider-centric, post S3, with a bit of Schneider x Penelope, of course. Written after watching the back half of the season too many times.]

It’s 9:30 at night and he’s holding the complete Commodore Jazz Recordings on Vinyl, Collection 1, and trying to see if it sparks any joy. 

It doesn’t, which he basically already knew even before he held it. So he just sighs and sets it to the other side of him in the now comically large pile of everything else in his apartment and in his life that doesn’t bring him joy -- all the gifts from Avery that no longer even make him sad to look at, the collectible toys he got at comic con three years ago, the expensive yarn he bought during his knitting phase. 

If his humor skewed a little more cynical, he might say that he should just set himself in that pile, too. 

He stuffs that thought back down into himself, though not before it pulls up that cutting inner voice of his -- the one that sounds eerily similar to his father -- that tells him how worthless he is. He gets through about a dozen more records before it gets too loud, and then he’s pulling out his nine month chip and running his fingers over the edges of it, smoothing them over the contours of the serenity prayer on the back of it. 

It quiets the voice a little, but not enough to push back the rising tide of obsession that always led him to the nearest bottle. So he pushes himself up off the floor and steps over the walls of stuff he’s erected around himself, and heads out of his apartment, his mind already picturing the soft yellow walls of the Alvarez’s apartment. 

“Hey Schneider,” Penelope calls out as he comes in through the front door. She doesn’t even look up from the pile of laundry she’s folding -- just shifts over on the couch to make room for him. “Did you finally realize that having an entire shelf dedicated to jazz albums you’re never going to listen to didn’t spark joy?” 

He forces a smile onto his face, and he’s glad that Penelope is still looking down at the polo shirt she’s folding in her lap because he doesn’t think what’s on his face looks anything close to genuine. 

He doesn’t say anything though, just tries to figure out a way to talk about his swirl of emotions that isn’t just I’d really like a drink right now. When he can’t, he tries to figure out a way to say he thought about throwing himself out in a way that seems more soft and deprecating than it does cutting and cynical because by now he knows he’s been quiet for just a beat too long. 

In the end, he doesn’t have to, because he feels Penelope’s hand come over to rest on top of his. 

“Hey,” she says gently, her body turned towards him, her eyes soft and warm, anxiety simmering at the edges. “What’s wrong?” 

If he’s really being honest with himself, he thinks he might be better with things than with people. 

See, things are easy to label and sort and categorize -- this is a lamp, that is a car, over there is the actual prop head of the T-Rex from Jurassic Park. The categories make sense and, as a plus, none of them ever make him feel bad about himself. 

People, though -- they’re nearly impossible to sort, and when you do, it almost always makes you feel bad. About yourself, mostly, but just about the whole system in general sometimes, too. 

Because the label father should be someone who loves you and cares for you but it isn’t, and the label horse groomer and tennis instructor and manicurist maybe shouldn’t fall under the category of people who knew all the places you used to hide when you were feeling bad about yourself (fifteen places in total). 

Also, if a thing makes you feel bad, you can get rid of it. You can forget that it ever hurt you to have it. You can eventually even forget that you got rid of it and get a whole new thing just like it. Maybe you even buy the exact same thing again twice -- not that he’s done that more than four times in his life. 

But people are the exact opposite. If they make you feel bad, you never get rid of that feeling. Not really. No matter what and where that person goes, no mater how far away from you they run -- you never forget it. 

It’s people who leave you, rather than the other one around. And it’s the ones who leave, the ones who forget about you -- who eventually forget that they ever even left you -- who manage to hurt you the most.

And you can love a shirt or a movie or an album or a restaurant -- you can even talk about how much you love those things, you can say out loud i love you to this inanimate thing if it doesn’t bother you to have people look at you weird (which he’s used to, so whatever) -- and you never have to worry that this thing won’t love you back because guess what? It isn’t supposed to. 

As a bonus, that thing will never laugh in your face, it will never shake its head at you and say that’s not how we do things in this family, it will never walk away without saying it back for your entire life.  

He doesn’t say all that, of course. 

Instead, he heaves a sigh as he looks over at Penelope. 

“Looking at all my stuff made me want to drink again.” 

She doesn’t say anything at first, and in that pause he has time to think about how if this was even six months ago, she might’ve said something like yeah, looking at your stuff makes me want to drink, too.  

But then he has to erase that entire train of thought because nine months ago he didn’t even think of drinking, and he doesn’t think Penelope would’ve ever made light of it like that. Even if him drinking then had just been some far off history, some far flung reality, and the words want to drink no longer really entered in his vocabulary.  

Now it feels like a threat that hangs over everything he does.

Penelope nods, then scoots closer to him. 

“Why do you think that is?” 

He reaches up to straighten his glasses and takes a deep breath in, letting it out again slowly, his mind grasping for the easiest way to get it all out. 

"My dad is never going to love me,” he finally says, closing his eyes partially because the words hurt even though they’re true, partially because he isn’t sure if he wants to see how Penelope will react. “Not the way I want him to.” 

There isn’t really a connection between his confession, Penelope’s question and his answer -- at least, not one outside the twisted threads of his own musing -- but it turns out it doesn’t matter. She’d either figured it out on her own -- a combination of how smart she is and how well she knows him -- or she didn’t need one. 

She knows just the right thing to say any way. 

“That has nothing to do with you, Schneider.” She reaches up and brushes her fingers against his cheek as she turns his head so that he’ll look at her. “That’s all on him.” 

Is it? That voice inside him says, and maybe Penelope is close enough now to hear it, because she gives him a look that’s somehow equal parts ferocious and tender as she squeezes his hand. 

“It is, Schneider,” she says firmly, the look in her eyes daring him to disagree.

He stares at her a moment longer, that fluttering in his chest that he’s now come to expect at her touch and her stare beating back the drum beat of his father’s long disappointment. 

He tears his eyes away from her, because more recently staring at her too long has felt something close to dangerous for him and those are feelings he needs to sort through when he isn’t trying to sort through this set of feelings. 

“It still sucks though,” he says, trying to keep his voice light and failing, mostly. “Like, a lot.” 

She sighs and nods her head. 

“It does.” She tugs him towards her and wraps her arms around him, her hands coming to rest on his back, his wrapping around her shoulders. “Your dad sucks,” she says, her voice muffled in the folds of his shirt. 

He huffs a laugh -- small and short, but genuine. 

“He really does, doesn’t he?” He presses his face into her hair, his cheek nuzzling against her soft curls as he moves just a fraction closer to her. “This doesn’t, though.” 

“Mhm,” she murmurs, her hands softly brushing up the lines of his back. “I’m glad you decided to come down here, Schneider. You know you always can.” 

He nods. 

“I knew it before you did.” 

She laughs, shaking her head against the curve of his shoulder before she tips her head up to look at him. 

“So you wanna sleep on our couch tonight?” She smiles. “Then tomorrow after breakfast, I’ll come up and we can Marie Kondo the crap out of your place together.” 

He blinks rapidly in surprise. 

“Pen, you don’t have to do that.” 

She shrugs.

“I know. I want to.” 

“And, I mean, staying here --.” He clears his throat. “I’m fine sleeping at my place.” 

She cocks her head at him. 

“But do you want to?”

He gives her a long look, then shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t.” 

She nods her head, then slowly slides away from their embrace. He thinks it’s just a trick of his own wanting that it seems like she does it reluctantly, but it’s still nice to consider it -- however briefly. 

She doesn’t let go of his hand though, just keeps it wrapped in hers as she stands in front of him. 

“I’ll go grab some blankets and a pillow, can you turn off all the lights?” 

He nods, and she smiles at him before she gives his hand one last squeeze, and lets go. He grabs the stack of clothes on the other side of him and hands them to her before she goes back towards her bedroom. 

He toes off his shoes, then quietly walks over to the kitchen to shut off the lights. He makes sure to put the clean dishes in the drying rack away before he does, then walks back to the living room, where Penelope is tucking in a sheet around the couch cushions. 

“I gave you a blanket, but there’s also the throw in case you get cold,” she says, stepping back from the couch. 

He nods and makes his way to it, sitting down and stripping off his socks and putting them in his shoes. He straightens up, then looks over at her. 

“Hey, so you know what I thought while I was trying to figure out what sparks joy? 

“What?”

“That I should just throw myself out.” 

He tries to say it light and airy, means it as a joke. He even smiles when he says the words, though he realizes too late that it feels brittle at the edges. 

Penelope looks at him for a brief moment, then steps forward and wraps her arms around him. His own immediately come up around her, his limbs tight around her shoulders, the weight on his own loosening. 

"Are you trying to see if I spark joy?” He asks, the teasing in his voice extra loud to cover up his own soft yearning. 

She shakes her head.

“I already know that you do.” She tips her head up to look at him, her chin resting against his chest. “So you can’t throw yourself out because I’m keeping you.” She hugs him tightly against her. “Ok?” 

He takes a deep breath and smiles. His hand wants desperately to come up and brush back the loose curl that’s fallen across her forehead. 

He settles instead for splaying his fingers across her shoulder blade as he nods. 

“Ok.” 

[kimarchive]

When Saweetie landed a viral hit with her boss-up anthem “ICY GRL,” it was the product of unchecked confidence and limitless ambition. As a student at the University of Southern California, the Bay Area native already knew she could rap and used her Instagram account to prove it. Videos of Saweetie freestyling in the front seat of her car, along with a hyperactive SoundCloud page, eventually led to a record deal and her debut EP, High Maintenance. She flaunted her ability to weaponize words and spray them unsparingly at her exes and cynics on songs such as “B.A.N.” and “Good Good.” And even though her career is a product of the internet, the 26-year-old rapper, born Diamonté Harper, remains a student of hip hop’s pre-digital heyday. Her biggest hit, “My Type,” samples Petey Pablo’s “Freek-a-Leek,” and her most recent EP, this year’s ICY, is an old-school ode to getting the bag. Her respect for the history of the genre is why, when she spoke to her idol Lil’ Kim for the first time, she could barely contain herself.

LIL’ KIM: Hey, sexy girl! Where you at? SAWEETIE: I just flew from L.A. to San Diego. I have a show here tonight. Where you at? KIM: I’m in Jersey. So, first of all, how did you get so freaking dope? SAWEETIE: Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. I’m having a moment. I can’t believe it’s you. You sound just like your songs! KIM: I don’t think they saw you fucking coming. And I still don’t think they see you coming. You feel me? SAWEETIE: Yeah, I feel you. How did I get so dope? Writing has always been my thing, and a lot of people don’t know that entertaining is a whole other thing. That was never my strong suit. So I was looking at a bunch of performers, wondering what I could take from them and make my own. One thing I really love about you is that when you walk onstage, you might not be rapping and you might not be dancing, but just your presence—I’m like, “Damn.” That’s what I want to have onstage. KIM: If you take anything from me, you’re going to take this and you’re going to hold it in your hand and put it in your heart and lock it, because I don’t say shit I don’t mean. When I watched you perform at Summer Jam, you were my highlight. Even though you were out there for a short period of time, guess what? It was short and Saweetie. You captivated me. SAWEETIE: You’re giving me butterflies. My heart is beating so fast! My choreographer told me a story about you. I forget which award show it was, but Puff was talking to an artist, and the artist didn’t want to do something, and then you came in and you were like, “Oh, you don’t want to do it? I’ll do it, because our job as performers is to entertain.” I’d never thought about it that way. It’s not just about reciting the lyrics and doing the one-two step. The goal is to entertain. KIM: Girls go out there and they perform, but they may not captivate people. But when I watch you onstage, and look at your Instagram, I noticed that mama is a fashionista! Bitch, you be givin’ lewks. SAWEETIE: Every year I write down goals for myself, and I was like, “I really hope I find my Misa Hylton [Lil’ Kim’s stylist] this year, because I would love to have looks like Kim had.” You guys were a lethal combination, and, girl, maybe three months after that, I found my stylist. No matter where I go, I’m trying to put on a look like Kim. KIM: You remind me of me. One of the things that I love that you adopted into your routine is the whole girly cheerleader thing. It’s so sexy. And then you were doing this dance at one show, you were doing this little butt move, and it was the perfect butt move because it was something I would do. When you recorded “My Type,” did you like the beat right away? When Puffy brought me “No Time,” I hated that freakin’ record. SAWEETIE: Really? KIM: I hated it, girl. But he’s my big brother and I looked up to him so much that anything he told me to do, I did. And he was very protective of me. He always said, “Kim, you do better when I give you a record that you don’t like.” I guess I was trying to prove something to him. Were you super excited when you first heard the “My Type” beat? SAWEETIE: I was actually in the studio when they made it, because I was missing one more song off of my EP—I was missing a slap. We were about to sample something else, but I was like, “What is something from my childhood that I couldn’t get enough of?” And I remembered being 10 or 11 dancing to that Petey Pablo song. The sample gets me every time. KIM: You give the song a whole new life, the way you attacked it. You just went in on it because you loved it. Is it certified gold or platinum now? SAWEETIE: My first song, “ICY GRL,” is platinum and “My Type” is gold. KIM: How does that feel? SAWEETIE: It feels amazing. I feel like everything is just coming together, and the fact that I’m getting to interview with you, it just makes everything so surreal and dope. KIM: Interview published one of the biggest magazine photos for me, so they became like my extended family. We have this history. The girls you dance with onstage, are those your friends? SAWEETIE: One of them is my best friend, and the rest are her friends. It’s all homegirl vibes. KIM: That’s so dope. You can tell there’s a friendship there. Sometimes girls go onstage with dancers and you can tell they don’t know them. SAWEETIE: When you work on my team, I want everybody to feel at home. Music is my career, but dancing is their career, and I want their career to be as fun as mine. KIM: My best friend danced for me for years. I have a television show on VH1 called Girls Cruise, and she’s on it with me. Now she has her own clothing line at Neiman Marcus. She’s a boss bitch. What’s your sign, Saweetie? SAWEETIE: I’m a Cancer. Just like you. KIM: Oh my god, I can’t take it! SAWEETIE: Girl, let me tell you something. Every sign got hella celebrities aligned with them. So I was like, “Who’s a dope Cancer out there?” Girl, when I saw your name on the list, I was like, “Kim’s a Cancer and she’s a rapper, so I know I can be a rapper, too.” KIM: Who are your top-three dream collaborators? SAWEETIE: I’m a huge J. Cole fan. When I was trying to come up, I had no way of getting my music out there, so after one of his concerts, I waited by his tour bus and rapped for him. The second one would be Rihanna, because I grew up on her. For my third, well, this is what happened. When I was coming up, I noticed a lot of female rappers had lighter voices than mine. I have a deep voice when I rap. So I was listening to my music catalog, and I noticed that you also have a deep voice when you rap. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to collaborate with you, but I always wanted to sit in a studio with you just to see how you record. KIM: We could do something so dope, and it would be unexpected. So that’s done. I think you and Rihanna would be the sexiest combination. I just love that. But, girl, you already got me. You and I are gonna be hanging out. I can see it. I know these things. What’s your favorite makeup? SAWEETIE: Lip gloss. I’m actually coming out with my own lip gloss line, and I’m gonna send you all the colors. I basically took all of my favorite characteristics of lip glosses that I love, and combined them into one. KIM: You gotta give me one. No, wait, I’m going to buy one. If I had to pick two, it would be my lipstick and my eyebrows. My lashes would be my third thing. SAWEETIE: I’d be out here looking like a bald eagle without my lashes. I have two questions for you: What’s your favorite Lil’ Kim song, and what’s the best bar you’ve ever rapped? KIM: My favorite Lil’ Kim song by myself is “Qu— SAWEETIE: Wait! Wait! Wait! Are you about to say “Queen Bitch”? KIM: Yes! That’s my song! “Kill a nigga for my nigga by any means bitch! Murder scene bitch!” SAWEETIE: My favorite bar by any female ever is yours: “Tryin’ to impress me with your five G stones, I give you ten Gs, nigga, if ya leave me alone.” LIL KIM: I’m not gonna lie, Saweetie, I be forgetting shit. I have so many songs that I can’t even think of my favorite bars on the spot, but I love that one. SAWEETIE: How did “Queen Bitch” come about? LIL KIM: I have to give props to the King himself: Biggie was there with me every step of the way in the studio. He always loved Wu-Tang, and there was this beat that they had. I was his honey, so he was like, “My honey got to have a beat like this.” That was one of my favorite moments. SAWEETIE: Girl, you got too many, for real. I hope I have that one day. LIL KIM: My Saweetie, this was amazing for me. SAWEETIE: I’m sorry if I got a little too hype. LIL KIM: I’m gonna send you my info and you could send me yours and we’ll keep in touch. Enjoy your show tonight. Have fun and kill ’em, because I know you’re gonna kill ’em. I don’t know you, but I love you. SAWEETIE: I’ve loved you since I was 13.

[fireeaglespirit]

@beyond-far-horizons

I do. I’ve always shied away from the LOTR/Sil community on tumblr or anywhere cos I want to keep my attachment to them all to myself given how formative they were for me and still are. Never the less I do like this interpretation of Melkor’s actions over Tolkien’s “he is Satan and darn right bad!” cos I have always been a fangirl of Melkor esp because most of the Valar are such stuck up good too shoes (apart from Ulmo - love you Ulmo!) Basically I adore Melkor (even though I don’t justify what he did) and Ulmo, like Nienna, Aule, Yavanna and Varda but Manwe….Manwe…just too good…and ‘the Windlord’ just isn’t a good title in some senses of the word hehe. It’s just the selfish way they acted towards the elves and especially humanity - no special treatment for them, no guidance (apart from Ulmo - what a dude) and then they wake up and get dragged into the war between Melkor and the elves - even though they didn’t start it and will not get reborn if killed. Okay okay Melkor was terrible and did terrible things but I’ve never liked that dualistic way of thinking as much as i admire the Professor. 

I’m replying here as to avoid any problems with the og of the post or whatever, but yeah... this is as far as I go concerning fandom right now but it was very worthy reading the book, I did enjoy it when I got a hold on how to read it properly. 

I must be honest and say, some parts were a chore to get through but others were so delightful it paid off in the end, much like other books I’ve enjoyed including ASOIAF which had painfully lackluster parts, I do dig for the gems and its always worthy.

I did write a huge post concerning the first parts of it and my thoughts, but I don’t know if I’ll post it as its a bit too harsh (extremely delicate subject for some, I know but for me nothing is sacred on this regard) on some elements which after some research made more sense to me. Also, taking in consideration the time period it was written and some info about the author made it much better for me to get into it, etc... I’m also highly tolerant of different world views (for real) so even thought I don’t agree with some of his concepts and I oppose some of them, I can sort of ‘ignore them’ in order to enjoy my cherry picked favorite aspects of the creation and even taking them into consideration is interesting for the ‘different point of view’ I mentioned.

As you wisely notice I don’t have much love for the whole bible-like aspects which by any means pertain just to the structure of the early parts of the book, but to the ongoing theme of the battle of good x evil, including most of the morale of the book itself which feels very ‘christian’ and monotheistic despite the presence of the Valar as god-like figures, which superficially might look polytheistic, Eru’s influence is undeniable even when he’s not actively present in the narrative: All good stems from Eru, or being close to him and following his way and almost every bad thing that happens is due to the meddling of a single guy whose own very existence was allowed by Eru and who opposes him... In the end, all evil comes from not following god’s will or not believing him. Don’t need to say I’m not a huge fan of the concept *coughs*

Anyway, I also recently read through the parts concerning Numenor and it made me angry also, especially concerning the way humans were left with no guidance at all, it no wonder they feel prey to manipulation, they were starved for something they could never achieved and they could never be enlightened on the reason for that. 

I don’t know and never understood why ‘faith’ or believing without at sort of clue or proof is held in such a high stem by most people, so its hard for me to swallow the way the humans were just told to never fucking go to west and to not desire immortality which was just natural for elves and spirits and they were not given a proper explanation or reason why... they just had to believe it. I know the Valar aren't omniscient too so they don’t know Eru’s reason either, but they could've been more helpful concerning the subject of the undying lands, I know at some point they are more open about it but perhaps it was way too late. LOL. What would it cost for a higher being to just go there and tell them the story and  functioning of the world, etc... I don’t know if this sounds stupid or even makes sense but I felt sorry for the guys in Numenor who died in the collective murder by Eru (this stank of bible but wasn't nearly as bad since well just a little part of the world was swallowed up :l and god basically killed everyone save a guy and his little family so props to Eru). I feel weird.

The problem to me is not the monotheistic setting itself, but the fact its endorsed and not ever criticized, etc.. I could enjoy any book with any world view as long as it challenges itself and Tolkien just goes straight away and never look back in this. I guess I just have a more ‘cynical’ or ‘doubtful’ point of view regarding deities in general, esp. monotheistic ones so I’d rather have some more shades of gray concerning those who oppose the all powerful god, just like you did regarding the demons on the DMC fic verse where you can see there are multiple forces at play and its not so simple, but I digress its just the way things are and that’s what the book is and its a relatively old book with different mindset and cultural references than we commonly have today.

To me, taking it away and just overlooking certain implications I can sort of get behind it, lol.

I’m also not a huge fan of the Valar, personally, they look cool as heck but most of them are indifferent AF and don’t act much. Worse than that, they don’t seem to hold much concern towards humanity... During the war of the wrath I just kept thinking “why haven’t you done this before??” and lol

I guess its a bit like my own Polaris whom after meddling with humanity for long just took a back seat, sort of understandable when things went awry before and you just don’t know if your meddling is causing good or bad anymore so you just let it be for a while, and for those beings a ‘while’ might mean centuries easy. The Valar, just like my dragons hold a lot of power, compared to ‘gods’ but neither hold omniscience so its understandable that they make mistakes, I just don’t necessarily agree with the position of utter indifference they took after some events... I mean to work with this theme concerning my dragons and how they deal with this so it was interesting nonetheless seeing the story evolve and what it leads to.

Anyway, the Silm. has a very interesting arc concerning its mythology since the higher power consecutively ‘take a back seat’ in order to let the world develop on its own, first of all is Eru himself and them slowly the ranks of spirits whom where once the focus of attention leave the picture one after the other until the story is taken over mostly by elves and afterwards even the elves leave the scene for humans to take over. This is very interesting and works to explain why the ‘powers that be’ are not as vivid as they were, etc... I really enjoyed reading the over arching theme and how it played out, it will definitely help me on my writing endeavors.

I totally agree on Ulmo like FFS he was the only guys still around when shit went down and he was always there trying to help the ‘good guys’, also Aule has some interesting facets early on and well... the Valar look incredible, especially Varda & birdy (fart) lord Manwe, but they don’t hold much more to me than cool looks, which is sad as they had potential. Also, I live for goth queen Nienna but she does nothing through the story...

Well, once more we’re left in the world of ‘what could've been’. I’m quite used to it and not complaining, just stating in my personal opinion the text could be easily turned into something much more interesting to me with minor tweaks. 

[margridarnauds]

i know you reblogged the Thing a while ago but aaaa i really love reading your answers so - 002 for lazare, if you wanna?

Thanks! (And seriously, if I’d reblogged it a month ago, I would still be down for answering it; I love talking 1789, especially if it involves my boy.) I feel like I did this some time ago, but also I’ve never stopped screaming about Lazare and I’m not going to stop now. 

Be warned: The following is based off of various and assorted headcanons and theories, ergo the canon compliance is, as always, questionable. Since it isn’t like Lazare gets all that much in canon, bless his heart. 

How I feel about this character: My baby. My son. My murderous son. It’s funny because, when I first watched 1789, it must have been about 3-4 years ago, because I somehow managed to fall into the fandom just before the Takarazuka version dropped (I seem to recall some of the initial questioning over how Marie Antoinette’s role would be dealt with and expanded), I REALLY didn’t like Lazare. I remember seeing all the fanfic on him (in French, which I read via Google Translate on my college’s computer while I was taking a creative writing class over the summer) and being like “This guy? WHY? HE KILLS PEOPLE.” Ah yes. My 17 year old self was so painfully naive. On so many points. Then, about a year and a half ago, I fell back into Hell after a stream of the Takarazuka version and managed to latch onto him. I really resisted for the longest time, but after about a month, I ended up bonding with him, and the rest is history. 

I think that, of all the cast, he has some of the greatest potential, and I really think that Matthieu Carnot in particular did a great job with giving us a variety of interpretations on him. 

All the people I ship romantically with this character: For the most part, I’m pretty monogamous to Peyronan. I do ship Artois/Lazare as a purely one-sided thing, purely so that Artois can do a flip when he finds out about Ronan. Olympe/Lazare and Olympe/Lazare/Ronan is right there; it’s pretty much the only way I can actually stomach Ronan/Olympe as a ship, and at one point I had. Words. Written out on that one, though who knows if I’ll ever complete those Words. I’ve also batted around Louis XVI/Lazare as an alternative to Artois.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I STRONGLY Brotp Solène/Lazare and Olympe/Lazare, as well as Lt. du Puget/Lazare (with du Puget filling in as the father that Lazare SHOULD have had, had things gone better) and Ramard/Lazare. (Toho/Takarazuka Ramard, with the two of them both having to deal with Artois and Ramard still being new enough to the job that he’s not been totally corrupted yet.) 

Olympe and Lazare, in my own headcanon, parallel each other well, with Lazare’s longstanding crush on Artois and Olympe’s on Antoinette. Both of them are fiercely loyal to their respective members of the royal family, both of them distrust the mob and what it’s capable of, but while Artois exploits Lazare for his own benefit, making him into his personal attack dog (you know, In the one scene they have together in canon), Antoinette...doesn’t MEAN to with Olympe, she doesn’t even know that she HAS a crush on her. Antoinette is pretty oblivious to the world around her, bless her heart, but she means well. But still, we see in canon that Olympe sticks her neck out on the line time after time for her sake, before MA FINALLY lets her go. And even then, I go back and forth as to whether she realizes Olympe has a crush on her (and is trying to spare her the pain + the damage to her reputation) or whether she genuinely believes that Olympe has a lover (and genuinely thinks she’s helping Olympe by letting her be with someone she loves, not realizing that the person she loves is...), given that both are pretty devastating in their own ways. Artois, though, would never let Lazare go. Even if he doesn’t personally have any LIKING for Lazare, he’s not going to let him leave him, because he wants that control and his pride can’t stand the thought that Lazare could (1) Move on from HIM and (2) Move on from him WITH A PEASANT. Like, Ronan’s existence is basically the single biggest middle finger that Lazare could deliver to Artois. 

Solène and Lazare also have a hell of a lot in common, aside from just...the shit-talking Ronan opportunities. Both of them are the more pragmatic, cynical partner in their respective pairings, both of them pretend to feel a lot less than they actually do, and both of them have reputations of being People You Do Not Fuck With but also MELT for their respective love interests. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: This is something I’ve noticed primarily from the French and Russian fandoms (with a LITTLE bit in the Chinese, though I’ve also read fluff in Chinese), but Creepy Crawly Lazare. No. Absolutely no. I once literally started an Angsty Childhood Friends AU fic out of sheer SPITE over Creepy Crawly Lazare. (Not Le Cri, another one that I will unleash when the time is right.) I understand it with the Japanese productions a little bit more, because they tend to deal with a much darker look at him than the French, but I still don’t see Laz...like that. And, for the most part, I tend to favor the interpretations of Laz where he genuinely BELIEVES in the Ancien Régime and has managed to convince himself that he’s doing the right thing. I love the Takarazuka Laz; I love the Toho Laz (I’ve FINALLY warmed up to him. I mean, he replied to my mom on Instagram. How can you not like him if he replies to your mom on Instagram?), but they’re...not MY take on Lazare. I tend to see him as borderline asexual/demisexual as it is.  

Relating to that, any interpretation of Laz where he’s a smooth talker. My boy can play the political game as needed, primarily by keeping his mouth shut, but casually giving out pick up lines...no. The only way I could accept this is if he ran to Ramard for help, desperate, and he jotted down all of his favorite pick-up lines (hint: They’re all awful), only for Lazare to blank the second he saw Ronan. I genuinely have a hard time believing he’s had any kind of relationship pre-canon. Like, RONAN’S probably had more experience kissing than he has, and we’ve all seen how Ronan kisses. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Obviously, I would love canon, mutually consensual Peyronan. I think that all three productions have hinted at it; I don’t think ANY of the Lazares have really played him as Straight™, especially when it comes to Ronan (THE HUG IN THE FRENCH PRODUCTION), but I would actually like to see it 100% canon. Not that that would EVER happen in a mainstream musical, especially in the Japanese productions (not saying there’s NO progress there, because there have been some stupendously gay things I’ve seen via Zuka and Toho, but most of the time it’s either [1] villains, [2] comic relief, or [3] queerbait, with the lead still ending up with the lead female character) but a girl can dream. 

Shipping aside, I would genuinely love to see Lazare and Ronan develop side by side as an antagonist/hero pairing. I would love to see Lazare grow increasingly desperate and brutal as the musical goes on (IF and only IF we’re going to have him as the villain and not the antagonist), just as Ronan slides deeper and deeper into the Revolution. I would love to see them parallel each other in various and assorted ways, not the least in their devotion to their respective sides, as both of them suffer from the society they were born in, just in differing ways and extents. On one hand, Lazare never starved like Ronan did, but on the other...he was made into a machine for the sake of preserving the Ancien Régime (and...it does seem like there’s a small amount of canon backing to that one, given some of his lines in Nous ne Sommes.) If you’re going to kick off the musical with the Lazare/Ronan rivalry and Ronan swearing vengeance, then you’ve got to make SURE you carry that one through to the end, even if it’s Ronan ultimately realizing that he doesn’t WANT Lazare dead. I just...need that development between the two of them, since it’s such a missed opportunity in the original. I do give Toho some props for showing SOME of that, as far as explaining why Lazare wants Necker out of a job + having Ronan there during Nous ne Sommes, but still...I need more Lazare development, dammit. 

my OTP: Lazare/Ronan. Was there any doubt? 

my cross over ship: Lazare/Chauvelin from The Scarlet Pimpernel is, like...my trash crossover ship. Not the least because Ryuu Masaki played both Ronan and Chauvelin in the Zuka productions. So it’s not TECHNICALLY cheating on Peyronan. 

Also, guilty pleasure ship I’ve been tossing around: Der Tod from Elisabeth/Lazare. I mean, given how often Lazare’s around dead people, I think it could go swimmingly. 

@janetcarter and I also have a longstanding 1789/Terra Nova crossover where the 1789 crew ends up in the colony of Terra Nova and meet some dinosaurs, and in that one Lieutenant Washington and Lazare are a big BROTP, given that they are both staunchly loyal soldiers with ponytails who fall in love with someone on the other side of the conflict and who were massively underwritten in canon. 

a headcanon fact: 99% of what I do with him is extensive headcanoning anyway and there are times I almost feel like I run out of headcanons, but Lazare wasn’t given an extensive education, ESPECIALLY not by aristocratic standards. Robespierre, Desmoulins, and Danton all outpace him there. He never learned Latin or Greek, his only two languages are German and French, because his grandfather went for the Prussian influence with him and he thought that Latin was unnecessary and would lead him to libertinage. His education was strictly kept to what would be immediately useful for his military career. When Lazare is talking about the “high class education” of the revolutionaries in the Takarazuka + Toho versions, he’s not just trying to convince Ronan to join him, he’s also projecting his own deeply buried, unacknowledged envy towards them. It also means that he often finds himself uncomfortable in the intellectually driven salons and court discussions, and his lack of formal court training puts him at a disadvantage, especially since the Comte d’Artois (who isn’t one to TALK there, historically), regularly uses him as the target for his mockery. A solid background at court was necessary to be a good officer and advance, connections were EVERYTHING, and a socially stunted officer was never going to make it as far as someone like, say, Fersen, who could navigate the best of both worlds. 

Also Autistic Lazare is very, very important to me as a concept. Whenever I write him, it’s with the idea that he falls somewhere on the spectrum.

Also, bluntly speaking, I have my. Ideas. For what happens to Lazare post-canon, and most of them don’t end well for him, though I truly don’t believe he makes it to the guillotine. I think Toho!Lazare in particular sings his lines in Pour la Peine with a certain resignation. 

In a happier timeline, as Lazare gets older, he needs reading glasses and grays quicker than Ronan. Ronan relentlessly teases him about being an old man; Lazare retorts that the reason he has so many gray hairs is because of Ronan. 

[the-desolated-quill]

Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Quill’s Quickies (No Spoilers)

This year, Star Wars has been almost mired in controversy. From the loot box controversy in EA’s Star Wars Battlefront II to the noticeable lack of non-white characters in The Last Jedi’s marketing. Rian Johnson making a total prat of himself by claiming that Kylo Ren is a dual protagonist with Rey, and now the reviews are in it turns out Episode 8 is the most divisive movie in the whole franchise, with critics clambering over themselves to praise the movie for its ‘bold new direction’ while the fans decry it as the arse-raping of their collective childhood. On the whole, I’d say this has been a complete and total cock-up.

I had no idea what to expect going in. I’m sure you all know how lukewarm I was about The Force Awakens. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that the critics were praising the hell out of The Last Jedi considering they were doing the same thing with the previous film, which in my opinion was mediocre at best. The fan reaction surprised me. After all the blind (and arguably undeserved) praise The Force Awakens got, if even the fans are struggling to find good things to say about this movie, something must have gone spectacularly wrong.

So what did I, diehard Star Wars fan and professional arsehole, think of The Last Jedi? Well honestly I’m disappointed I didn’t hate it more. Truthfully I liked this movie about as much as I liked The Force Awakens, which is to say not very much. Like The Force Awakens, it’s a competently made movie and it’s possible to derive some enjoyment from it if you switch your brain off for two and half hours, but otherwise it’s just yet another tired retread of the original Star Wars movies that brings absolutely nothing new to the table. Not for the first time, I feel a real disconnect from the rest of the Star Wars community here. I have no idea why the critics are praising this movie for being a game changer because there’s genuinely nothing very revolutionary or groundbreaking going on here, and I’m confused as to why the fans have chosen to fling their bile and venom at a movie that, in my opinion, is the very definition of average. I mean sure, The Last Jedi isn’t very good and there were some bits that did kind of annoy me, but there’s nothing about it that’s outrageously offensive as far as I can see.

Let’s start with the things I liked. The biggest, shiniest gold star has to go to Finn. He was quite possibly the only new character I was in any way invested in last time around, and he’s just as brilliant here. We see him slowly embrace his new role as a hero of the Resistance and we also see him get the chance to stick it to his First Order oppressors, which I thought was quite emotionally satisfying. He’s joined by Rose, played by Kelly Marie Tran, who I thought was a nice addition to the cast and who undergoes the traditional everyman turned hero journey. I really liked her relationship with Finn and their scenes together are by far the highlight of the film, which makes their subtle erasure from the Star Wars marketing campaign all the more offensive to me because, as far as I’m concerned, they’re the main characters. They were the most developed, the ones I was most invested in, the only ones that actually grow and develop over the course of the film and who pretty much drive the plot.

The other thing I liked (and I can’t believe I’m saying this) is Kylo Ren. I really wasn’t impressed with him in The Force Awakens because he was pretty much just a shitty rehash of Darth Vader, and I mentioned in my review at the time how it might have been better to embrace the more weaselly and slightly pathetic nature of the character to help better distinguish him and give him his own identity. So I’m extremely pleased to see that’s exactly what this film does and it’s great. There’s no pretence anymore. Kylo Ren is this spoilt, impotent man-child that desperately craves power and attention, but doesn’t really know what he wants to do with it, and that’s glorious. That’s just the burst of inspiration the character sorely needed and Adam Driver does a great job with this new material. I’m actually looking forward to seeing where he goes in the next film and if they handle it well, he should make for a very unique antagonist (that’s antagonist Rian Johnson. AN-TAG-GON-NIST).

It’s just a pity that in order to prop up Kylo Ren, Rian Johnson felt the need to completely warp Luke Skywalker’s character into something wholly unrecognisable.

Yes now we come to the bad stuff, and there’s quite a bit. My main gripe is with Luke’s characterisation. In order to justify a lot of the plot, they have to make Luke this cynical halfwit and there are loads of moments where he says or does something that just simply doesn’t ring true with what we already know about him. His reasons for his exile are utterly out of character for one thing and his reasons behind his provocative statement that ‘it’s time for the Jedi to end’ are even more ludicrous. What’s worse is that the majority of the movie is dedicated to Rey trying to persuade Luke to come out of exile and rejoin the fight. Remember the scene in The Empire Strikes Back when Luke tries to persuade Yoda to train him? Well imagine that dragged out for an hour and a half. That’s pretty much the movie in the nutshell. I think that’s part of the reason why I loved Finn and Rose so much. Because it was a blessed relief to get off that fucking island for a while. There were several moments where I came close to dozing off.

I’m sure it’s no secret to anyone by this point that Rian Johnson has played pretty fast and loose with the Star Wars canon. Luke’s odd characterisation is one example. There are a few others. None of them truly insulting in my opinion. But the most notorious is a scene involving Leia, which I will hereby refer to as ‘The Scene.’ This got a lot of Star Wars fans riled up, but I personally thought it was absolutely hysterical just because of how random and idiotically daft it was. I’m not going to tell you what happened in ‘The Scene’ because this is a non-spoiler review. All I can say is you’ll know it when you see it.

Of course this was Carrie Fisher’s last film before her untimely death and that’s incredibly sad. Does The Last Jedi offer a fitting tribute to Princess/General/Queen (she’s a a Queen in my eyes) Leia Organa? Not really. In fact, outside of ‘The Scene’, Leia doesn’t really do anything worthy of comment. Some say she was mischaracterised too, but I don’t think so. At a push, I could see Leia doing some of the things she does. I just wish Fisher could have been given something with actual substance.

My views on Poe and Rey remain virtually unchanged. Poe Dameron is still a one dimensional cardboard cutout and I’m still continuously baffled as to why people like him so much. He doesn’t have a character. We’re two movies in and we still haven’t learnt a single sodding thing about him. Frankly I’ve seen fossils with more life in them. Rey meanwhile is still quite possibly one of the blandest protagonists I’ve ever seen. I’m struggling to find any reason to actually give a shit about her. Why should I be invested in her Jedi training? Why does she even need Jedi training when she seems capable of pulling any random superpower out of her arse at the convenience of the plot? At no point have these films ever given me a reason to care about her. Maybe if they focused more on her looking for her missing parents, I might be slightly more invested. And that’s another thing. In The Force Awakens, her missing parents are basically used as sequel bait. Here (without giving too much away) they’re pretty much just swept under the carpet entirely, which begs the question why was JJ Abrams wasting our time with them in the first fucking place (yes I am blaming JJ Abrams instead of Rian Johnson because Abrams was the one that actually came up with this shit and it’s very much reminiscent of his bullshit ‘mystery box’. The principle where an audience are naturally drawn to some big unknown or mystery and that he frequently utilises in his projects, most notably the TV series Lost. What he often forgets however is that good mysteries tend to have a satisfying fucking answer at the end).

And that’s pretty much all I have to say really. No doubt some of you are disappointed I haven’t quite given The Last Jedi the vengeful pummelling you’ve come to expect from me, but honestly I can’t work up the energy to get properly angry at it, and that’s largely because I’m past caring about this sequel trilogy. I think I’ve made my views on the sequel trilogy quite clear by now (that they’re a soulless cash grab concocted by studio execs who wouldn’t recognise a decent script if one jumped up and bit them on the arse) and I think it’s my total lack of interest that kind of shields me from some of Rian Johnson’s ‘creative’ decisions. These movies don’t count as far as I’m concerned. I’m not especially bothered by Johnson’s ‘reimagining’ and there’s nothing truly terrible going on here. The only crime The Last Jedi is really guilty of in my opinion is that there’s large swathes of it that are just really, really boring. And the main reason for this (apart from the obscenely long running time and a plot that drags its feet) is because, like with The Force Awakens, a lot of this stuff has been done before and done better in the original trilogy. While The Force Awakens ripped off A New Hope and a few elements from The Empire Strikes Back, The Last Jedi rips off The Empire Strikes Back and a few elements from Return Of The Jedi. What makes it slightly more egregious here is that The Empire Strikes Back and Return Of The Jedi are both very emotionally charged stories that rely on three films’ worth of character development and buildup to make an impact, whereas The Last Jedi just blunders in, trying to replicate these emotional moments, but fails to recognise what made them so powerful to begin with and hasn’t done any of the legwork to make us feel truly invested in what’s going on, and thus it has all the impact of a feather duster.

So that’s The Last Jedi. A pointless and mediocre middle chapter to what has so far been a pointless and mediocre trilogy. The one bright side is that now it appears they’ve finally rehashed all they can from the original trilogy, there’s a chance we might finally get to see some original ideas in Episode 9. Unless they’re planning to ripoff the prequels next. In which case Disney must be more creatively bankrupt than I thought.

[iamthechocobabe]

A True Nightmare

I figured after the Episode Ignis trailer, we all needed some Ardyn getting his ass kicked a bit (though keep in mind there’s only so much poor Mallory can do). Don’t be put off by the creepy vibes at first of the chapter, Mallory’s gonna show this asshole who’s boss by the end (and NO, not in that way guys-NOT AN ARDYN LOVE STORY, ‘member?) 

Sorry that it’s a little long, but it’s been going way too slow for me and I wanted to get the story going already. Oh well, what’s done is done, I guess. 

Tagging the Senpais: @roses-and-oceans @bespectacled-girl @nifwrites @cupnoodle-queen @themissimmortal @gladiolus-mamacitia 

A True Nightmare

~Chapter 4~ SFW Word Count: 3,885

Mallory was trying her hardest not to appear cynical as Noctis looked at the car with a forlorn look; obviously, this car meant a lot to the crowned prince and his friends seemed to understand that, but Mallory was having a hard time fighting the urge to go up to him and yell 'it's just a CAR'. 

Boys and their cars, I guess-Mallory thought. 

A far off explosion lighting up the night sky got Mallory's attention and the realization hit that they had absolutely no idea where they were. Mallory had to drive a different route to get into Gralea and she only knew the one route, but how were they supposed to find their way through Gralea without a map? Mallory cursed herself for not going with instinct and packing a map with her, telling herself that she knew the way and that it was just a waste of space. It was a fucking piece of paper, Mallory, you had room. 

"Where to now?" Mourning was over, apparently and the three joined Mallory as she stared at a street sign, trying to get her bearings. As if sensing her confusion, Ignis spoke with a slight tilt of the head to better focus his hearing. "You do know where we're going, correct?" 

"That is an excellent question," Mallory mumbled, wanting to kick herself as she tried to piece together the last time she had been to Gralea and to Zegnautus. A piece of FUCKING PAPER, Mallory, what the hell is wrong with you?

"You didn't bring a map? What kind of an 'assassin' are you?" 

"Shut up for a sec, yeah?" Mallory didn't glance at Gladio as she fished out her disposable flip phone from her backpack, shooting a quick text. Got lost, am at Crysallis Ave., how do I get to Z. from here? Closing the phone, Mallory waited, hoping and praying that the response would be quick, partially because Mallory knew if it was that she got out all right. 

"You're texting? Who are you texting?" Noctis sighed exasperatedly and tugged on a few ends of his hair. "That's it, we're dead," 

"She's a friend, and if you want to go die in a corner somewhere, by all means, please do," Mallory was beginning to lose her patience with these guys (minus Ignis, who didn't really seem too judgmental of Mallory, just observant), but ignored it when her phone buzzed and a little mail icon showed up on the front screen where the clock usually was. 

Wait where r u plz dont tell me ur in Nflhm. 

Relief flooded through; the knowledge of one of Mallory's closest friends being safe was like a thousand pound weight being dropped off. But when Mallory read the words, a bad feeling began to grow in her stomach as she responded. Didnt u get my txts

No wait There was a short pause before the texts started flooding Mallory's phone, so fast that Mallory didn't have time to read a text before another one popped up on her screen. 

mal get out serisly shits bad u need 2 go chncllrs gone crzy mts & daemons evrywhr ppl r missing

Well, this was bad-people missing and MT's roaming the streets? Mallory sensed this was a bit more than a coincidence, blowing a piece of hair from her eyes and typed as fast as she could with the old fashioned phone. cant exactly get out now am stuck need 2 get 2 Z. help me out here

A few seconds went by, Mallory tapping her foot impatiently the whole time, when the phone buzzed again. 

u die on me Mal I swear 2 Gods go on crysallis til u get 2 casey dr. go right til u get 2 train tracks follow train tracks military entrnce thre

Mallory sighed, stress and oncoming panic dropping from her shoulders as she looked at the three with new found confidence about where to go. "Head down the road," She explained the directions before they all started following, Ignis occasionally faltering as they maneuvered the road designated for shipping containers. When they reached the railroad tracks, practically destoryed with train cars and shipping containers that laid askew around the tracks, Mallory shot a quick text. Thx Ky owe u

u wont owe me if ur dead b carful

Snickering, Mallory put the phone in her backpack just as they reached a stray train car carefully and barely propped on some debris with a small gap underneath that would give the four enough crawling space. Despite how the thing looked like it was the tiniest nudge away from collapsing, Noctis was already half way under there and Mallory quickly reached forward and pulled him back. She didn't necessarily mean to make the crown prince fall on his butt, but he glared all the same. 

"What?" Noctis stood up, dusting the dirt from his pants like a little kid with a grumpy face to match. 

"MT's are probably guarding the fortress," She didn't mean to sound snippy, but this was basic shit 101 and Mallory was starting to feel more and more like a babysitter every minute. Tired and irritated, Mallory went over to a broken side ladder on the train car before gesturing to Gladio. "Give me a boost and I'll see what we're dealing with here," 

"Isn't that dangerous?" Gladio asked the question, but maybe he figured there was no point in arguing with her because he just bent down and linked his fingers together so Mallory could boost herself up to the ladder and start climbing. 

"When are you assholes going to figure out that I can take care of myself?" Grumbling was always a thing Mallory hated to do, she hated sounding whiny and grumpy. People already thought she was a grouch because of the way she looked and her naturally stern eyes, she didn't need constant bitching to help her in that department. Working with these three, she was starting to remember why she preferred working assignments and stuff by herself, only occasionally teaming up with Aranea. 

Still, Mallory had bigger things to worry about, especially when she reached the top of the traincar. 

"How many are there?" Noctis called up, but Mallory couldn't find an answer. Confusion clouded her brain as she processed what was easily the most popular entrance into the fortress, aside from the main entrance. "Mallory?" 

Shaking her head, Mallory forced herself to respond, though it came out as choked as she was trying to piece everything together. "Nothing. There's no one here," 

No one. One of the most used entrances into Zegnautus, and not a soul was in sight, no one to guard the most heavily guarded megafortress in the world. The whole thing reeked of wrong, something definitely off, but what could it be? What reason could the fortress have to possibly leave itself defenseless? 

"What's going on?" 

She was so focused that she barely noticed Noctis popping up from under the train car-just as she shouted for him to get back, Noctis had accidentally knocked into a bar, which was apparently the only thing holding the train car up, as the moment it was loose the car decided now was the time to fall. Failing to keep her footing, Mallory soon tumbled down the side of the car, winding up stuck on the ground, separated from the others by derailed train cars and shipping containers. 

"Guys?" Mallory shot up to her feet, checking around her for enemies with her gun while calling out. "Anyone?" 

There was no answer, but Mallory swore she could hear vague yelling and running feet, so she continued to yell, hoping her words would reach someone. "If you guys can hear me, head into Zegnautus-on the thirteenth floor is a common area with a cafeteria. Meet me there!" 

"On the thirteenth floor is a common area with a cafeteria. Meet me there!”

Ardyn heard his own breath inhale rather than feel it-the same thing had happened when he saw Aryelle appear on top of the train car, hearing himself suck his breath in rather than feel it. The little trick he had when he showed Aryelle the memory of how they met didn't seem to phase this Aryelle, other than seeming to confuse her, but he was determined...of what, he still wasn't quite sure. Every time he saw her, despite how she was much more stern than the Aryelle he knew, he wanted to see her, to know her, to make her see him. 

And as he stood up to head to the common area in the megafortress, his promise of so many years ago rang in his ears. You will know my redemption. 

A furious kick to the stubborn vending machine gave Mallory what she wanted, a simple can of Ebony. While she hated coffee, despised the bitter taste, the past days of being on a train to Gralea with little to no sleep due to nerves was making her exhausted. She figured she needed the extra caffeine to keep herself on her feet, she just hated the fact that the stubborn machine ate up the last of her gil without giving her what she wanted. A little kick showed that machine what, though the stinging in Mallory's ankle was making her regret her rash decision. 

The bitter taste made her want to gag, but Mallory forced it down her throat before crumbling the can and disposing of it in a recycle bin (why there was a recycle bin in the most industrial place in Niflheim, Mallory would never know). She scooted up onto a picnic bench style table and tried to force herself to relax, though the blaring red light and the rustling of daemon feet in the hallways outside was making it difficult to do so. 

She had managed to clear out the common area fairly easily, as there were only a few daemons in the room when she got there. Mallory left the big metal doors to the common area unlocked, but she would still tense anytime a scurry of feet would approach the door, then sigh with relief as the feet scurried away. But it had been almost three hours of waiting and Mallory was starting to get worried. 

More footsteps-this time, though, the foot falls were different-rather than being hasty, or sloppy (depending on the daemon on the other side), these were careful foot steps and they were definitely human. But Mallory could feel, almost know that the prince and his entourage would not have been walking so lazily down the hallway and stop casually in front of the door, neither opening it nor locking it. Just stand there-whoever this person was, Mallory had a feeling they knew she was in there. 

Reaching for her gun once again, Mallory scooted off the table and carefully placed her feet on the floor. 

Only the floor was different-the common area had grating all throughout the floor, but the floor was now suddenly smooth, like marble. The texture (or lack thereof) from the floor caused Mallory to look down, only to see grey marble flooring versus the common areas grating that looked to some of the prison cells below. 

Naturally, Mallory looked up-only she wasn't in the common area anymore. 

Red blinking lights and sirens were replaced with a peaceful and calm hallway exterior, with the same grey, old fashioned marble decorating the walls. Paintings and ceiling high windows gave the place almost a homely look and now, Mallory couldn't help but feel panic growing in her stomach. 

Mallory had been so on edge, so on the run since the train that she honestly hadn't even had time to think of the weird vision of the barn and the red haired man. Now she was forced to face the reality that maybe the stress was making her lose her mind, maybe years of taking care of Ari and constant close calls with death had finally made Mallory's mind snap. 

Foot steps-again, only behind her. They brought Mallory out of the panic and she whirled around to aim her gun behind her, only there wasn't a soul in sight. There was only the peaceful hallway and...Mallory could hear it again. The humming. A four note lullaby, the same four notes hummed over and over again and it might have been peaceful in different circumstances. 

Walking carefully down the hallway, checking behind her back every few feet to make sure no one was behind her, Mallory shouldn't have honestly noticed the paintings. But there they were and the sight made Mallory stop, partially in awe and partially in fear. 

The paintings on the walls were all the same and they were all of...Mallory? 

No, it was someone who looked just like her. Mallory's hair was the same shade of dark black, but the woman in the painting's hair was longer, stretching down to her waist in long waves. Her facial features were the same, though, with her slightly pointed nose, her heart shaped lips and high cheekbones. Of course, the eyes-the same, mysterious and deep dark green, an almost unworldly color that had been in her family for years and years. 

Mallory instinctively backed away, the woman's eyes almost following her as she tried to leave when something stopped her dead in her tracks. Eyes widening, Mallory leaned forward, positive she was seeing things. 

On the woman's wrist was what looked like a soulmate mark...but it wasn't any mark. 

It was just like Mallory's on her left shoulder, the same shape with the same points, just in a different spot. 

"Aryelle," 

That name again...looking over, Mallory saw the same red haired man again coming down the corridor, only this time he looked a little older-a little meaner too, with a confident and smug look versus the man from the barn, who was young with an easy smile who seemed almost naive. But when he met Mallory's gaze, his golden irises almost softened, though the smug smile he wore was still bitter and cold as he approached. 

When he came within five feet, Mallory instinctively back up and aimed her gun at the man, though he just chuckled at the sight of a gun aimed between his eyes. 

"How different you are now...I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?" With a long and deep sigh, the man turned to the painting and gazed with a wonder and love that only his eyes shown at the woman in the painting. "She was just like the soulmate mark on her wrist...a star. Beautiful to look at, but unattainable to the human touch," With the same look of fondness in his eyes, but still not in the rest of his face, the man touched the back of his fingers gently to the woman in the painting's face, gently stroking the canvas. 

Mallory shivered, swearing she could feel icy cold fingers against her cheek. "What's happening to me?" The whisper was more of a question for herself than anyone else, but the man turned his attention away from the painting to focus once again on her. 

"I promised that day that I would show you and everyone my redemption...at last, that day has come," With a grand sweep, the man knelt before her, his warm and loving golden irises in the cold face gazing at Mallory. She tried to shake the foggy feeling out of her mind, but she couldn't, couldn't fight the odd sense of longing in her stomach and the race of her heartbeat. She knew logically that none of this made sense, that she didn't know this man, but she still found herself crouching down beside him. She still felt her heart flutter like crazy when he grazed the back of his cold fingers along her cheek. 

"Aryelle," he whispered, inching closer and closer with each word he spoke. "My soul...my half...my star...my life..." 

He was so close that she could smell a bitter stench of cologne, could feel the hot stinking breath on her face, but she couldn't force herself to stand up. Couldn't force herself to think as he slowly closed his eyes as a single phrase chanted in her head. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. 

But she still felt her eyes closing, but was somehow able to fight the draw to close her eyes when a brilliant blue object appeared just over the man's shoulder. 

A blue feather? 

A biting cold and snowy wind almost knocked Mallory off her feet and onto her bottom, but she steadied herself with the palms of her hands as she stayed crouched. The man and the peaceful corridor was gone, but it was replaced by the whiteness of a snow storm, the cold biting into her skin and if she wasn't questioning her sanity, Mallory would have been relieved that she was wearing her winter coat. 

"What's happening to me?!?!" Mallory didn't even hear her own scream over the wind of the storm, but she was too frozen and panicked to care at this point. 

Because the image of Ari, alone in a cold and sunless world with no one to protect her, flooded Mallory's mind. The image of Ari panicking as daemon's surrounded her wouldn't leave Mallory and she screamed with no one but the wind to hear. Her sister, unable to function, now alone in this world, unable to defend herself...

Because of Mallory-her lack of sanity. While she always knew that her missions were dangerous, she always had the confidence to come back home to her sister. She figured if she did die, it would be because of a shot to the head. 

Not because she had lost her mind. 

Through the white blanket of snow and sleet, a sudden image appeared. The image waved and moved, almost like a window curtain flapping in the wind, but Mallory could clearly see snippets of something happening in the image. Almost like watching a TV, Mallory watched the red headed man make grand flourishes to King Regis, making promises of peace and tranquility, but going back to the Empire to signal the attack on Insomnia. Mallory cringed as the man bent down by the oracle with a cold and cynical look, sinking a dagger into her stomach as Lady Lunafreya's eyes went wide in pain and fear. Mallory wanted to claw her own ears out at hearing Ignis Scientia's screams of pain at being blinded by the man, his cold and smug look never once going away as he smiled like he enjoyed bringing so much pain to someone. She wanted to cry as she watched the man taunt and mock a young blonde boy as he sat on the ground and practically sobbed, though she didn't know over what. 

All that pain and misery...brought on by this man. 

A hand grabbed onto her left wrist, squeezing so tightly that the bones might snap underneath as the snow storm melted away and somehow, Mallory knew she was back in reality. The man was back, only he now appeared angry as he tightened the hold on Mallory's wrist. A blue, ethereal glow made his eyes look almost black as he tried to yank Mallory beside her, despite her resistance as she placed her palm on the cold, metal grating of the floor below her. 

"Aryelle," The man hissed, his voice dripping with the venom of a snake as a dark, oozing blackness started to appear from him. "Come to me," 

It was at that moment that Mallory realized that this man, the person from her visions, was a person of pure and horrific evil. She didn't know what he wanted with her and she didn't care, she only knew she had to escape. With quick reflexes she had learned over years of dangerous missions, she grabbed the switchblade out of her back pocket, flipped it up and sank the knife into the man's leg, right beneath his knee cap. A simple twist and pull popped the knee cap out of place, though the man didn't roar like others she had performed the trick on had. But he did flinch and hiss through his teeth, clearly in pain as Mallory left the blade forgotten in his knee and stood up to run away. 

"Mallory!" Gladiolus, Ignis and a young blonde boy, the one from the snow storm vision, appeared behind her, all of them out of breath as they looked at the man pulling the knife out of his knee. "Where's Noct?" Gladiolus asked her. 

Mallory shook her head, sure confusion was as clear on her face as it felt. "I thought he was with you guys," 

"We sent him on torwards the crystal," Ignis explained with his eyes cast ahead, not really focusing on anything due to his blindness. "We were surrounded-has he absorbed the power from the crystal yet?" 

"He's gone," 

The four turned their attention to the man as he straightened up, looking almost un-bothered now despite his knee being severely damaged. He turned and focused his smug gaze at the group, but he focused on Mallory, his body framed by the blue glow from the crystal behind him. "I'm afraid you won't be seeing your friend again for quite sometime," 

"What?" Confusion and whiplash from being jerked around from so many places in the span of what felt like less than ten minutes clouded Mallory's mind, but she didn't have time to react as Gladiolus summoned his broadsword and swung it at the man with a roar and the blonde boy shot him twice in the back, the man falling with his hat rolling casually away. 

"Die, motherfucker," The blonde boy whispered, his voice choked with tears. 

"He's not dead," the words left Mallory's mouth before she really understood them, not sure how she knew he wasn't dead. And sure enough, he wasn't, as he stood up with his fedora and placed it casually on his head before turning and looking at Mallory and she almost wanted to scream at what she saw. 

The man was almost daemon like now, the whites in his eyes now inky black and oozing, making the bright golden irises stand out in contrast. His face and skin was now pale and cracked in several places, like a broken china doll and he now looked as evil as he was. 

"You will know my redemption, Aryelle," The words were fueled with anger and bitterness, but he didn't stay to explain what it meant as he simply strolled to the elevator, leaving the four alone in one of the capitals of magitek industries. 

It felt like the air returned to the room the minute the doors to the elevator closed and Mallory gasped and began to pant, not realizing before she had been holding her breath. As she collected herself, she realized she felt something wet and thick on her hand. 

Mallory prided herself on being calm and collected even in the grimmest of situations, but when she saw the man's daemon like black and oozy blood covering her hand from where she stabbed him, the scream she let loose practically echoed throughout all of Gralea.