#because unless she's specifically seen on camera or referenced

[rooftopprendezvous]

.

[libsterslobsters]

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

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“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

[goreprofonde]

Aaron Rodgers - Climax

“Life is a collective impossibility.”

There were so many languages. Aramaic, Phoenician, Etruscan, Tamil, Moabite, Umbrian. Too many languages. From where did they all come? It was a puzzlement, especially if you believed—and if you were authoring the Pentateuch you no doubt did—that all these speakers were branches of a single family tree. Why would Noah’s descendants, leaving the Ark to replenish the Earth, differ so greatly from one another? You needed an etiology, you did. If you were Greek, you might blame Hermes. If you were Bantu, you might blame a famine-induced madness. But if you were writing the Book of Genesis, you might blame, well, God.

The story of the Tower of Babel from Genesis 11 is short—very short. You’ve probably heard it, or at least something like its broadest outlines. In only nine verses no longer than your average nursery rhyme, the postdiluvian people (speaking but one language) decide in their arrogance to build a tower to reach the heavens; the Lord sees it and is displeased; and so the Lord confuses their language and scatters them about the globe. Short, sweet, and to the point: Pride goeth before the globe-scattering fall.

Or at least that is the traditional interpretation. And it’s not an unreasonable one—what few dots there are seem to connect in a pretty straight line, and old-timey Yahweh was quite prone to smiting, having just exited his “drown them all” Great Flood phase. Like so many ancient stories, it easily calcifies into something abstract and removed from the specifics of the story itself. But actually reading the nine relevant verses is quite a time—especially when read from the perspective of an acolyte of God fashioning an explanation for the world’s diversity of languages. For the Lord did not just punish the people for their hubris; he did so out of fear that their unity of language and of purpose would make them his rivals (“and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do”). And the Lord did not choose just any punishment; he chose exactly the thing that the people most feared (“and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth” / “and from thence did the Lord scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth”). Taken together, it paints an astonishingly bleak picture—humanity, its highest goals easily scuttled by outside forces, overseen by a vengeful, jealous God more interested in chaos and the psychological scars of a self-fulfilling prophecy than in peace or understanding. (And all this from Moses, one of God’s chief troubadours! Imagine the story a naysayer might have told.)

It’s hard not to think of the Tower of Babel in the wake of Climax, Gaspar Noé’s latest boundary-pushing entry in his own foreboding corner of the cinéma du corps/New French Extremity. Noé is not shy about citing his idols and reference points generally, from Godard to Kubrick to Lynch, nor has he been subtle about the influences on Climax—in addition to referencing the Tower of Babel, Shivers, and The Towering Inferno (among others) in interviews, Noé has helpfully laid out a wealth of data points surrounding the monitor on which he displays his dance troupe’s introductory interviews. Among the citations: Argento’s Suspiria; Fassbinder’s Querelle; Żuławski’s Possession; Pasolini’s Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom; and Buñuel’s Un Chien Andalou, not to mention various books like Taxi Driver and How to Succeed at Suicide. The ways in which these influences play out are sometimes obvious (e.g., Selva’s (Sofia Boutella) agonized, writhing convulsion in the hallway explicitly recalls Isabelle Adjani’s subway paroxysm in Possession), sometimes less so (e.g., Oscar Wilde’s De Profundis, which—according to Noé, the little stinker—appears because “I like the title and I like the book...because it’s so cruel”). There is no Holy Bible propped up against Noé’s mid-1990s tube TV, but the idea of a vengeful and jealous overseer disrupting an attempt at something greater is central to Climax. As he did in Irréversible, Noé realizes that hell, unbearable as it can be, is only made more hellish by the possibility of heaven.

Climax begins (like Irréversible) with the ending. Lou (Souheila Yacoub), covered in blood, is seen from overhead stumbling through the snow before collapsing. Something terrible has obviously happened to her (this is Noé, after all), but unlike Irréversible, which unfurls a fully backward chronology, this prologue is only a brief flash-forward. After the credits play, Climax introduces us to its large cast via the aforementioned interviews, quickly sketching its players’ backgrounds, interests, and fears as the dancers—applying to be part of some sort of international touring group—discuss sex and drugs and other points of interest to the bohemian twentysomething circa 1996. From there, Climax moves to an abandoned school on the outskirts of Paris where the group is rehearsing, and it is at this point that Noé provides his greatest shock of all: joy. As the dancers krump and vogue and contort in what can only be called harmonious dissonance, Noé’s unbroken take evokes the bygone MGM musical of Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly, celebrating the amazing things a body in motion can do not by simulating that motion through quick-hitting edits but through the camera’s unblinking gaze.

Of course, Climax’s version of the cinematic dance number has a decidedly modern bent not incidental to its overarching themes. The participants in manager Emmanuelle’s (Claude Gajan Maull) group are not performing in the classical Astaire-and-Rogers style, nor do they look like the cast of Singin’ in the Rain. Instead, they are diverse in almost every way—nationally, ethnically, sexually, socioeconomically. What they have in common—in addition to youth—is an affinity for creative movement and a desire/belief (perhaps born of naïveté) that through their collective efforts they can make the world a better place. Climax early on declares that it is a French film and proud of it and a large sequined French flag hangs behind the dancers, framing their efforts. For a time, it seems as though these young performers, accepting of all comers and overflowing with joie de vivre, might represent a new, aspirational future for France, free of the petty jealousies and insecurities and bigotries that define (and mar) life as we know it.

But Noé is not one for uplift, and as the prophetic prologue cautions, this jubilant beginning must come to an end. After their astonishing first dance—several of the most infectious minutes one is likely to see onscreen—the performers become revelers, celebrating their upcoming tour with food and merriment and sangria. That sangria happens to be laced with LSD—something neither the dancers nor we yet know, though some pointed shots of the punch bowl and the too-frequent mentions of its contents suggest trouble—and will soon cause this utopian mini-society to erupt into death and madness. But the eruption is that of a festering boil. Cleverly, Noé follows the initial dance with a series of conversations among the participants, mostly broken off in pairs. While further fleshing out their characters and deepening certain audience connections (and introducing Tito (Vince Galliot Cumant), Emmanuelle’s young son who, being a child in a Noé film, cannot possibly meet a good end), these interactions also reveal the lie behind the seeming idyll we have just witnessed. Sexual gamesmanship, misogyny, mutual distrust, power dynamics, a general unease—even before the drugged wine has taken hold, no amount of common bond or feel-good sentiments can fully inoculate against the crassness and misanthropy of the human condition. Vive la France—unless that French flag plays less than wholesomely to some of the carousers whose skin color may have left them disadvantaged under its auspices. God is with us—unless God, wary of his waning primacy and unwilling to go down without a fight, has been against us all along.

From there, Noé gifts us one additional extended dance sequence—this time shot from above, like a devilish cousin to Busby Berkeley’s showstoppers—but the additional knowledge we have gained makes the number play very differently than its predecessor. It is still exuberant, still exciting, still full of technical and physical marvels, but there is a sense of disquiet coursing through it, of tenuous allegiances and bids for attention. The playful back-and-forth of the first dance feels slightly more strained; the seemingly effortless flow of before is supplemented with an element of jockeying and competition. All these workers building a tower, but unsure about one another’s methods or their mutual destination.

Being a Noé film, it is no surprise that from there Climax descends into recriminations and mutilation, child endangerment and incest, and ultimately into a crimson-lit nightmare resulting in death. Noé’s superb camerawork—always a hallmark—not only complements the dancing beautifully (one truly wishes that he, along with Edgar Wright, would make an out-and-out musical, though for Noé that would almost certainly have to be Sweeney Todd), it also brings to life the increasingly fragile (and ultimately disintegrated) mental states of his crew of revelers. While Selva is probably the closest thing Climax has to a protagonist as the camera follows her back and forth from the common space to the dorm rooms the group has been occupying, no one seems fully safe/sane—not Selva, as she comes undone in front of some nature-backdrop wallpaper; not Lou or Omar (Adrien Sissoko), who abstain from the sangria for personal reasons that end up visiting upon them violence (whether Western culture dislikes a Muslim or a sexually active woman more is a question Climax does not definitively resolve); not even Daddy (Kiddy Smile), as he good-naturedly DJs the proceedings. That Climax employs so much improvisation is nothing short of miraculous, given how intricately some of Noé’s long takes appear to be choreographed. But beyond mere showmanship (of his own or his performers), these extended sequences give Climax the disorienting effect of feeling both dreamlike (or, perhaps more accurately, nightmarish) and realistic. Real life does not employ the careful and selective cutting of a movie, unfolding as its own long take, yet the memories thereof are fragmented in a subconscious act of self-editing, making Noé’s aesthetic appropriately both distancing and suffocating.

This visual evocation of an unyielding descent into hell is complemented perfectly by Noé and Ken Yasumoto’s sound design. The music that previously served as an enthusiastic soundscape turns menacing and relentless, with the percussive beats and throbbing bass driving the drug-addled action perpetually forward, stymieing any possible reflective moment. Yet that merciless music is preferable to the screams and groans it sometimes drowns out—cries that are themselves preferable, in the case of Tito, to a sudden silence that is deafening in its horrific implications. Even the comparatively hospitable environs of the sleeping quarters see Dom (Mounia Nassangar) attacking Lou and Taylor (Taylor Kastle) taking advantage of his sister, Gazelle (Giselle Palmer). As the sangria brings out the group’s (somewhat) latent paranoia and aggression and worst impulses, a downward spiral is inevitable; once gravity takes hold, escape velocity becomes nearly impossible to achieve.

Unlike Irréversible, Noé does not end Climax on a tragic but perversely bittersweet note; instead, he ends it with a possible explanation for the madness that disquietingly suggests that the madness was unavoidable. The perpetrator’s outsider status implies the doomed nature of group activity. The lies told in the instigator’s interview speak to the inefficacy of preparatory efforts. Most upsettingly, the culprit’s name, drawn from Greek mythology and literally meaning “breath of life,” points back to God and the Tower of Babel. The people banded together in an attempt to do something great, something just within reach. But God wouldn’t have it. So he scrambled the synapses a bit—a different language here, a chemically disrupted neuro-receptor there—and voilà, his supremacy was re-established. But to what end? “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair,” said a king of kings, until nothing beside remained. Pride goeth before the fall; when the proud one is divine, the fall leads all the way to hell.

[janusthesneakysnakeboi]

Moments from the new Sanders ASides video that had me screaming (or really, me screaming about the new video)

“RAIIIIID”

*Raid Thomas sounding like Roman/Remus*

“You bet your shiny metal AX”

“MASCULINITY IS A PRISON”

“Why do I pay for a membership if I still gotta watch the ads?”

THE FACT THAT THEY ALL ARE WEARING ONESIES EXCEPT THOMAS AND LOGAN BECAUSE LOGAN IS SERIOUS BOI AND THOMAS WELL,,, IS THOMAS

Also ROMAN CANONICALLY HAS LEGS***

ROMAN HAS ALL THE PILLOWS

VIRGIL IS SITTING ON A SURFACE THAT ISN’T MEANT TO BE SAT ON BUT IS SO RELATABLE BECAUSE I DO THAT EXACT THING WHAT

“Unless our problem is a hungry alligator-” “A remote possibility for a Florida dwelling man who never leaves his house”

Roman rigging the votes so it’s just Frozen and Patton is okay with that (WAIT BUT WHY IS PATTON CHILL (pun not intended) WITH IT???)

LOGAN HAD A CASUAL FALSEHOOD???? 

WAIT WHAT DID THE SIDES VOTE FOR??

“Thomas is in a bad place-” *camera pans to VIRGIL*

Roman calling Thomas a special snowflake

“Something good” *Frozen shows* “,,, or neutral”

“And from this point on, NO MORE NORDIC INSPIRED NUMBERS”

Virgil keep going back to the actual problem while Roman and Patton just like 90% forget the problem and Logan talks to and tries to calm Virgil

“I ALSO LOVE YOU OLAF”

“Cuties, I’m gonna keep you” “Ah you’re joking right? No you’re mine now”

“The heart is not so easily changed” “No it isn’t” *confused Patton noises*

“But, the head can be persuaded” “Can it though?” THAT SHADE AT LOGAN HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK

“Fear will be your enemy” *gay emo panic*

“So you’re saying lock her away because she’s dangerous” GOING BACK TO VIRGIL??? UH????

“JOAN!!!” They definitely wrote that line

Virgil’s mini existential crisis

Remus just yeeted up from behind the couch shirtless oh god was he jacking off to Frozen wtf

REMUS GETTING SO EXCITED ABOUT THE PARENTS DYING IS HONESTLY SO PURE EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT AT ALL

“I SLEEP IN THE B U F F”

“Did I screw everything up?” “No I threw out your vote so you wouldn’t do that” ROMAN WHAT

Roman: *calls Frozen a Classic* Also Roman: *Makes fun of the entire movie and demands a rewrite*

“How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things that you were uncomfortable with in the past” THAT SHADE!! THAT TEA!! I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THESE *THINGS* PLEASE????

Patton: Let’s relax!! :) Virgil: Bruh I legit AM Anxiety that’s not in my job description

“How many times has our response to a difficult decision been half committing to one option and subsequently panicking about whether that option is our best option until it’s too late for Thomas to change his mind?” “7,430″ MOOD

“Why have a ballroom with no balls?” *Trash boi snickers at the dick joke that wasn’t there until then* "Nope, I’m an adult” (me me big boy-)

ROMAN’S IMPERSONATION OF HIS “EVIL PLOTTING FACE” HAS BE DEAD ON THE FLOOR

“AW MAN YEAH I’M LIKE SO FUCKED UP ON CHOCOLATE FONDUE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING RIGHT NOW” *Patton looks over, concerned* *Virgil looks over, annoyed* *Thomas glances over, lowkey amused* *Logan doesn’t even look at him and just grabs his tea*

NO TURN OFF LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR IT’S MAKING PATTON SAD (ALSO IS HIS CONNECTION PROJECTING? AND IS ROMAN’S RESPONSE A L S O ACCURATE?) 

“There’s no way she’s coming out of this situation without trust issues” honestly though yeah

“Not a footprint to be seen” “Except for the footprints behind you” “hEy YeAh” KEEP IT UP LOGAN YOU’RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE

Virgil: *Serious comment* Patton: “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see...” (did he sing the rest of the song or did he specifically choose these lines because if it’s the second one THAT CAN BE A WHOLE LOT OF ANGST AND I’M HERE FOR IT)

Logan canonically criticizes the movie at movie nights

ALSO GUYS THE VIDEO CAME OUT ON A FRIDAY SO FRIDAY NIGHT MOVIE NIGHTS ARE CANON

“Do you think this ice castle has a lavatory?” “ICE TOILET” “Or a bed?” “ICE BED” “This place sounds awful”

“HE DEFINITELY FUCKS THE REINDEER” “ew”

“You meddled with the vote to ensure that we would watch this and yet you’re the one constantly making fun of it” FACTS LOGAN 

“This [^] is how I show my love” WAIT A MINUTE *Looks back at the entire series* HE MADE FUN OF VIRGIL SO MUCH SO WAIT PRINXIETY??? LAMP?? DR LAMP?? (is that the ship name because that’s this video basically*

Nobody:     Not a soul:     Roman: OLAF’S CONTRIBUTION SHOULD HAVE COUNTED AND SAVED HER

“Like... bruh” mood

“Take care of my sister” “You’ve already done a good job of that yourself Elsa” *hood falls off*

“Ah, we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes” “nO-” (also Roman channeled so much Remy energy right there headcanon they hang out all the time change my mind)

“Oh sweet Frank Iero” I’m using that now

“Just think about it” “LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE”

“Attacking a person for opinions they don’t have doesn’t really do anybody any good” Me: BECAUSE IT DOESN’T WORK!! AYYY YOU LISTENED TO AND ARE REFERENCING LOGAN IN LAST EPISODE??? OR AM I JUST TRASH??

“Oh yeah like me kissing a man is unacceptable?” What a power move though 

“AAAAALSJDFOAGHOKLNOIATYRGH” Mood

Ok but also like Virgil basically rapped like that rapid talking was as fast as a bunch of rappers and even faster than some

Logan using the grounding method that my therapist suggested gave me life

Most of Virgil’s grounding answers were existential and oof

“A sour taste in my mouth probably left over from those reheated thai noodle leftovers” *Confused faces*

“FIGURATIVELY” *DWIT has entered the chat*

“Thank you Logan” “No problem, just your cool teacher being his cool self” *sips tea* Felt that. Also I have a new reaction image now XD

“Take it from Frozen’s most inspirational song” Let it Go? “Fixer Upper” Oh but ya know what valid

“Throw a little love their way” Virgil *confused smile?? I think that’s what that is??*

“Elsa, we the villagers have thought it over and with no discussion whatsoever we’ve decided we’re not scared anymore and ice magic is actually cool as hell!!” YEAH WAIT A MINUTE OMG

Logan: *Lists all of Elsa’s powers, reading from a notebook (meaning he took notes while watching the movie which is so in character omg) and implying that there is no way any of that makes sense* Patton: Sounds okay that makes sense

“With Elsa’s seemingly unstoppable “ice powers” I’d imagine Arendelle becomes a global superpower. No military force of that time could ever stand a chance against her never ending army of ice golems” 

Nobody:     Not a soul:      Patton: “True love is a closed door that is eventually opened up to you!”

“What if your soulmate was there” “OH SHIT” I love Roman that was all it took huh

*Deceit has entered the chat* “HISS” 

“Don’t touch my shit”

I wish we got to see Deceit’s face there but I get it we couldn’t see him without his hat (except for in the bloopers videos but those don’t count) (Also they probably just didn’t wanna do the makeup for him because it’s a lot and it might’ve been a split second decision and someone else might’ve played him with Thomas just voice recording over it especially considering there’s overlap so they wouldn’t have just been able to split screen it)

“I was gonna rig the vote anyway”

“I don’t know what you’re asking”

Roman is the source of SFW fanfic and Remus is the source of NSFW fanfic and Virgil is the source of angsty fanfic

“I’m going to bed. IN THE B U F F”

THE NEW SWEATERS IM BROKE SO IF SOMEONE WANTS TO GET ME ALL OF THEM (at least just Virgil’s even though I love like all of them)

WAIT THERE’S SCARVES TOO OMG I ALSO WANT ALL OF THEM (or at least,,, nope all of them)

“We were trying to make a slightly simpler video” Video: *is longer than most of season 1′s episodes* *has full body shots of almost all the characters* *has like 5 way split scenes* *uses every side* 

WAIT LOGAN BROUGHT BACK OUT HIS ONESIE I LOVE HIM and he’s still got his necktie on just underneath it amazing

This video was just LAMP and potentially DLAMP and maybe DR LAMP if that’s the ship name. There were also a bunch of really good Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Roceit moments in this one so I’m expecting fanfic hella soon

Also as of right now (I finished writing this at like 4am ET) we are still #1 on trending on Tumblr

***We never see Remus’s legs in the video so my theory of there is only one set of legs for the creativitwins still stands and is valid

[twdmusicboxmystery]

10x09: Squeeze - First Thoughts

Hey Everyone! How did you all like 10x09? I loved it! Thought it was fabulous. As per usual, today I’ll just give you some broad, first thoughts. Tomorrow I’ll do details and TTD. After that, I have some predictions. My peeps and I have been discussing what the spoilers told us all week and I have lots of connections to make. So, stay tuned.

***As always, spoilers abound for 10x09 below. Don’t click the ‘Read More’ until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

The first thing that caught my eye was a weird thing Daryl did with a walker hand. A walker grabs Kelly’s leg and is trying to pull her down off the rock and Jerry steps in and cuts the walker’s arm off. Then Daryl asks if he can have the arm. 

Then…it just disappears. I actually re-wound that scene because I thought I missed something. It’s a right hand, btw. (Beth’s cast was on her right hand.) But from what I could tell, Daryl was carrying the walker arm/hand and a flashlight. The next shot (like 2 seconds later) both are gone and he’s carrying a torch. I’m thinking maybe he used the hand to prop up the flashlight so others behind him had light to see by or something. But again, we don’t see what he does with it. Or where/when the torches get lit. So, it’s weird. But there’s a tie to Beth and the fact that it just disappeared. And perhaps the light has something to do with it as well. There are lots of bathroom references in this episode. Some are gross. Can I just say…the whole Alpha/Negan thing is extremely cringe-worthy. *shudders* But even before that, he goes to talk to her when she’s at the latrine. He even makes a butt joke. Then she threatens to cut off his balls and kicks him into the latrine. Ewww.

I didn’t think much about it during that scene, but then Jerry makes a bathroom reference as well (but much less gross). He’s having a hard time crawling through the tiny passages in the cave and Aaron asks if he’s okay. He says something like, “I’m just a 6’2” dude who used to have a hard time fitting in airplane bathrooms. Why wouldn’t everything be alright?” When he said that, it occurred to me how many bathroom references they have in this episode. And we don’t actually see any toilet paper or anything, but the verbal references are there.

For those who don’t remember, we’ve seen a subtle bathroom motif around these kinds of scenes. Weird, I know, but it’s there. Back in S4, when Rick escapes the Claimer house, he does so through a window in the bathroom. Before that, when Carl is exploring the pudding house and loses his shoe, we have a walker that comes out of the bathroom and tries to get him. Carl shoots it in the head—same place Beth is shot—and the walker jumps back up again. So once again, this motif is there and very entangled with Beth symbolism. I definitely felt there were callbacks to Coda in Daryl and Carol’s conversation. Carol says she doesn’t want to just kill Alpha. She wants to torture her and make her beg for forgiveness and THEN kill her. 

It reminded me of Daryl killing Dawn after Beth was shot. And the way Daryl just kind of stares at his hands and nods, I think he must have been thinking of that. And I remember Norman talking about that moment in an interview. He said Daryl might have gone into full murder-mode, killing everyone in the hallway, if Carol hadn’t put her hand on his arm right then and stopped them. Only after she does that does he drop his gun and look down at Beth and cry. So during the scene in this episode, after Carol says that about Alpha, Daryl replies, “If I’d been through what you’ve been through, I’d probably feel the same way. Unless you stopped me.” That simply has to be a reference to Coda. Um…there are long stretches of this episode where the group is literally crawling through dark tunnels. Daryl is always out ahead with a light, so they are crawling through the darkness and toward the light. There’s even a part where Carol starts to have a claustrophobic fit and Daryl says, “come toward my light.” Carol says, “I can’t.” Which is very telling about her state of mind. Though eventually, she does get through.

I’ll talk more about this Daryl-is-the-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel theme later in the week. I think it’s very important. At one point, Jerry gets stuck and some walkers are behind him, gnawing on his feet. They don’t actually bite him because they don’t get through his boots, but the camera focused on his shoes several times. So foot/shoe reference. Again, more on that in my details post tomorrow.

Let’s talk about the spoilers themselves.  I’m feeling very suspicious about the bird cage spoilers. It’s one of those things that was weirdly specific and not really emphasized in the episode. 

We definitely get a clear shot of the bird cage, but the camera just pans over it. There’s no actual mention of canaries or even that this is a mine. Maybe we’re supposed to glean that from the cage and the dynamite, but honestly, it might have all just been put there by the Whisperers. So I feel like this is one of those times it’s kind of apparent these spoilers might have been reported by AMC itself, and they want us to understand certain details that aren’t actually referenced in the episode.

There were other things that visually reminded me of Beth stuff. The episode did feel a lot like Consumed to me. When Carol fell and Daryl came to get her, it reminded me of Beth falling down the elevator shaft. And given the explosion when the mine caved in, it’s obvious why they would think Connie and Magna are dead. I mean, it was a pretty big explosion. If they’d been at the mouth of the exit when it happened, I’m sure they’d have both died. Only because they ran back in a little ways to fight Whisperers did they survive. There’s probably something symbolic in that. And this may sound really morbid, but even the way the debris and dust exploded kind of reminded me of the way the blood exploded from Beth’s head. So, I’m definitely feeling the parallels here.

We do see Connie and Magna very briefly. For me, it’s obvious that they’re showing us that they survived the blast. After it happens, we get a half-second shot of them turning around inside and then rocks sort of fall over the camera. So it’s like they’re watching their escape route disappear, but we don’t actually see any debris falling on them. So it’s obvious to me that they’re alive, but just trapped. And of course they could technically still die via walker, Whisperer, or just no food/water. It was emphasized several times that the group is very low on food and water, so that was a real concern for them. But the short of it is that we do see that they are okay inside.

I loved it when Daryl and Carol talked about not always telling each other everything. It came from the fact that Daryl told everyone Carol was claustrophobic and she was genuinely surprised he knew that about her. I think this is them acknowledging that they don’t talk about everything to one another, but also that, even though they don’t, the other one still knows.

So, I think it’s a way of pointing out that Daryl has never talked to anyone about Beth. Carol has also never talked to anyone about Lizzie and Mica (that we know of) or about Henry. Or about Sam. And it occurs to me that we know, via Henry, that she talked to Zeke about Ed and how abusive he was, but we’ve never been told that she talked to him about her lost children. To be fair, Daryl never talked to anyone about Denise, either, or anyone else he’s lost. But I think the emphasis here is also that the two of them (Daryl and Carol), because they’re so similar, can look at one another and know what the other one isn’t saying.

Maybe it seems fairly obvious on the surface. I mean, for anyone who looked at Daryl digging Denise’s grave, and stopping mid-shovelful to drink hard liquor, it’s obvious that this man is in an immense deal of pain. But the point is, even when he doesn’t tell her stuff, Carol still knows him well enough to understand what he’s going through, and vice versa.

It’s why she gave him Beth’s knife and wouldn’t let him go off on his own much during Them. And now the tables are turned. Just because Carol doesn’t talk to him about stuff, Daryl still looks at her and knows she’s not right in the head. Once again, the problem is that they don’t know how to heal each other. Carol isn’t responding to Daryl any more than he responded to her in Them or Twice as Far. At one point in this episode, he even says (and I paraphrase) “I want to be there for you, but I don’t know what else to do.”

I also think this may be a tongue-in-cheek way of the writers telling us to read between the lines. It’s almost kind of the “what cannot be seen” theme, except it’s “what is not being spoken.” 

The last thing I’ll say is that the final scene with Daryl and Carol is very sad. I don’t think spoilers mentioned this but Daryl actually breaks down and starts crying. Like, a lot. I’m sure there will be drama in the fandom over this scene. The Carylers will, of course, say it’s because he’s in love with Carol and she’s being destructive. Others will say it’s because he’s in love with Connie.

Honestly, I think it was a little of both. (I mean both because of Carol and Connie, not because he’s in love with either of them.) My first impression was that he was just crying because Carol was crying. He points an accusatory finger at her first, so he’s obviously angry and blaming her. But when someone you know well breaks down, it always kind of makes you break down too, and I think there’s an element of that in it. Like, it’s just a sad situation and he’s sort of sympathizing with her.

But I also think it’s because Carol’s break down him to face the idea that Connie might be dead. Before she started crying and telling him to say it was her fault, he was sort of in his determined, I’m-gonna-figure-this-out Daryl mode. I think it made him stop and realize that Carol thinks Connie is dead and she might well be (from his point of view) so he cried because of that too. Again, just a very sad, poignant scene. I’ll stop there for now. Details coming tomorrow. Overall, I really thought this was a great episode. What did you think? 

[drmedicsgamesurgery]

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 9 (Summary)

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage​ @jinjojess​ @hopeymchope​ 

CHAPTER 14- I Don't Want To Be Like Cinderella

1.

The city of a hundred spires. The city with fingers of rain. The hometown of medieval rock. The spells carved on the forehead of golems. The story of the headless templar. The legend of the sword hidden at the pier. The sound of the military boots that once stepped on the cobblestone. Kafka’s lifetime. The aftertaste of the Baroque dream. "Pravda vitezi". My eye of the typhoon. All now at the center of the world. [1-9]

Prague.

I am back.

2.

Shinobu goes back to Prague. There, many UN soldiers are patrolling every corner of the city. Compared to them, the number of citizens who walk outside is very small. Shinobu wants to break through the soldiers to save Byakuya, but without Borges it would be impossible.

There are only a few cars, so she thinks she would draw too much attention with the old Skoda. She decides to leave the car and hide somewhere. It shouldn’t be hard since the city is basically a big maze. She walks on the stone road while paying attention to not being spotted by the soldiers. Shinobu wishes she could go back to the time when she wasn't worrying about her existence collapsing in on itself, when the concept of “I” hadn’t died. Immersed in the sweet memories of the never-ending, a poster flying with the wind lands at her feet reading:

 “Emergency Declaration:

 1. Byakuya Togami and his accomplices have breached containment at our convoy.

 2. Assisting in the arrest of Byakuya Togami and his accomplices will grant bonus awards; if you hide or assist Byakuya Togami, or if you don’t report spotting Byakuya Togami, you will be severely punished.

 3. It is forbidden to harm or kill Byakuya Togami and his accomplices.

 4. Now that Prague has declared a strict martial law State of Emergency, the specific details are as follows:

a. It is forbidden to go out at night before the situation subsides, no exceptions.

b. Restaurants, bars, cinemas, theaters and other recreational facilities are closed without exception.

c. Those who violate the ban at night and do not immediately identify themselves will be arrested on the spot.

d. Other regulations will be published through posters, broadcasts and other channels.”

 -Orvin Elevator, Captain of the World Health Organization Infectious Disease Control and Prevention Unit

 Looking around, Shinobu sees that several posters have been hung all over the city.

She wonders why the WHO wants to keep Prague under lock and key. Was it because it was the origin of everything that has happened so far? Or...was it because they know Byakuya is somewhere within the city? She couldn’t say at this point, so she decided to move forward. She arrives at the Strahov Monastery [10], known for containing pieces like the Dodo specimen, located near the Hunger Wall [11]. Shinobu theorizes if she can pass through the courtyard of the Monastery she’ll be able to reach her destination and Byakuya. However, the problem was that it would probably be heavily guarded. Since she lacks an invisibility cloak...or any sneakiness for that matter she feels as though she’s gonna have to win by using her wisdom alone. She starts thinking but realizes her ideas aren’t going to necessarily pan out in her favor. Call the police? Working with WHO. Get a disguise? Shops are closed and the few people out here would make dressing up a waste of time.

Not to mention all potential allies she could have used are gone now. Hiroyuki Ketouin? Dead. Pennyworth and the Needle Force? Not equipped to handle this. The 78th class which came to Prague (Sakura, Celeste and Hifumi)? No word on them after they escaped arrest. It was up to her and her alone.

In the gradual expansion of despair, the observations that tend to be hopeful will bring death.

“It’s so pointless. How utterly despairing.”

However, with the knowledge of war movies and video games at her disposal, Shinobu continues onwards crawling and hiding behind things like flower beds, even thinking of watching out for security cameras even though there didn’t seem to be any around. She notes at that point that losing Borges she also may have lost the grasp of her character at that point. As a consequence of her ‘everything is a battlefield’ mentality, this results in getting herself stuck hiding behind a flower bed and unwilling to pop out unless she finds a good opportunity to do so.

At this time, in the silent city of Prague, the sound of an engine suddenly roared. I decided to believe my instincts and rushed out of the flower bed and quickly passed through the courtyard. I hid in the bush next to me and observed the road outside the courtyard. A jeep turned over the road along the Vltava River and drove towards me. The United Nations soldiers saw the jeep and saluted. judging by that, whoever is in that car should be someone in a high position. The moment the jeep passed by the bush, I saw someone I was very familiar with in the car.

Kazuya.

And…

Suzuhiko.

My mind was in chaos as I was watching the jeep disappear out of my vision. Under the protection of UN soldiers, my brothers are sitting side by side in the city of Prague...? The two of them always had their own differing opinions on me. It was hard to imagine that these two people would shake hands and talk, and it was impossible for Suzuhiko to lose to Kazuya. He must have come to an agreement with Kazuya. That is to say, an agreement for Kazuya to recruit Suzuhiko, he held off his own self-esteem in order to find me and Byakuya Togami. For the object that he once was so hostile and did not hide his desire for challenge, he now shook his tail. While feeling guilty about this and Kazuya, I also learned a truth from it: in order to achieve the goal, I can’t take it now. The means of choice.

The jeep disappeared, and the United Nations soldiers stopped saluting and resumed patrolling. I turned back into the garden, went the other way out, and rushed into the alley. I once again chose to believe in my own consciousness, ran for a while, and finally found the jeep parked in the corner of the alley. Since I returned to Prague, I have only seen the one jeep just now, so I think this is the same one as they were sitting in. There was no one in the car. I was going to hide in the car before they both came back, but the jeep was too narrow and there was no place for me to hide. At this time, my ears caught unsuspecting footsteps. I thanked that Prague’s roads were made from cobblestone, followed the footsteps and found the back of the person I was looking for. I did not hesitate to say "Wait!".

When he turned around, his expression was a little surprised, and it seemed that he was not surprised by me, but that I actually appeared on my own. Suzuhiko concealed that rare expression with a smile, and still made unsuspecting footsteps approaching me.

"No use, Shinobu. Is anyone else gonna come out from playing hide-and-seek, halfway through the hiding like that?" snarks Suzuhiko. 

"I don't want to hide any more."

"Well, it looks like it. Then, what's the matter?"

"Let me say something first."

"What?"

"Be my companion."

Translation Notes:

[1] Prague is also called the "City of a Hundred Spires", based on a count by 19th century mathematician Bernard Bolzano; today's count is estimated by the Prague Information Service at 500.

[2] The city with fingers of rain: Prague with Fingers of Rain is a book written by  Vítězslav Nezval in 1936, showing off the many sides of life in Prague. Mixing real and surreal, Nezval evokes life's contradictoriness in a series of psalm-like poems of puzzled love and generous humanity.

[3] The hometown of medieval rock refers to the buskers of the city playing a unique genre of music to collect money.

[4] The spells carved on the forehead of golems. The most famous golem narrative involves Judah Loew ben Bezalel, the late 16th century rabbi of Prague, also known as the Maharal, who reportedly "created a golem out of clay from the banks of the Vltava River and brought it to life through rituals and Hebrew incantations to defend the Prague ghetto from anti-Semitic attacks" and pogroms. Depending on the version of the legend, the Jews in Prague were to be either expelled or killed under the rule of Rudolf II, the Holy Roman Emperor. 

[5] The story of the headless templar. According to legend, a headless Knight Templar rides a magnificent white horse carrying his own head. He appears on the cobbles of Liliova Street between midnight and 1:00 o’clock. His ghost is doomed to roam the city until someone is brave enough to stab the Knight through the heart with his own sword. Some claim to have seen the ghost – and some have even claimed the horse kicked them.

[6] The legend of the sword hidden at the pier is referring to the legend of Bruncvik’s sword. Bruncvik was an adventurer who came across a magic sword who would kill at just the command of the user. It is a story of tragedy with the sword ending up hidden near Charles Bridge in Prague.

[7] The sound of the military boots that once stepped on the cobblestone is referencing the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia. 

[8] The aftertaste of the Baroque dream is referring to the type of architecture used commonly throughout Prague's beautifully designed cities. 

[9] "Pravda vitezi" meaning “Truth Prevails” is the national motto of the Czech Republic.

[10] Strahov Monastery is a Premonstratensian abbey founded in 1143 by Jindřich Zdík, Bishop John of Prague, and Vladislaus II, Duke of Bohemia. It is located in Strahov, Prague, Czech Republic.

[11] The Hunger Wall is a medieval defensive wall of the Lesser Town of Prague, today's Czech Republic. It was built on Petřín Hill between 1360 and 1362 by order of Charles IV. Marl from quarries on Petřín Hill was used as construction material. The purpose of the construction was to strengthen the fortifications of Prague Castle and Malá Strana against any attack from the west or south. Originally the wall was 4 to 4.5 metres high and 1.8 metres wide and was equipped with battlements and (probably) eight bastions.

To Be Continued

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

[asagimeta]

References in The Deadfast Club/Devil’s Night

Forgive the 1 A.M. theory brain, I have some other things to do so this was, admittedly, only breifly researched, but there are two pop culture references that stood out to me in these two episodes the most- This Mortal Coil and The Breakfast Club

Wile most of Scream's references are, obviously, to horror movies- from Tony Todd, AKA Candyman being the Hook Killer, to the discussions of "Get Out" and Jordan Peele (hilariously, this season was filmed over two years ago and Jordan Peele just announced that he's doing a Candyman movie a couple of months back), these two were very prominent but not at all horror related

This Mortal Coil is the name of the book Beth is reading, wich is prominently displayed to the camera, but the only results I found with that name are to a musical group that ran in the 80s/90s, and a dystopian YA novel, neither of wich looked like the kind of book Beth was reading, wich looked like a classic- hard leather bound with no cover art, as opposed to the YA novel that's far more modern looking

The musical group is described as having "gothic, dream pop sound", with the first and last albums they produced sounding like they could relate to Scream as a franchise- "It'll End In Tears" and "Blood" could both easily relate to the series, but aside from that and having gothic leanings, I'm not sure what this reference could provide, especially in book format

The YA novel however is far more interesting

The YA novel is all about DNA- specifically, recoding DNA, allowing people to "change their bodies in any way they want", the book's primary theme also seems to be about trust- who you can trust, you can't, and if you can even trust yourself

If Deion's brother really IS alive and the killer, this could be a great easter egg for that

My trouble believing it is that Scream has always surprised us with the killer reveals, for the killer to be the most obvious suspect who was guessed in episode two seems shoddy, but far more than that, Scream is about defying tropes and expectations, as they did in the opening scene with little!Ghostface being the first victim rather than the pretty teenager, even exiting the "kill the girl" trope by killing a child- and a boy at that- for the first victim

Maybe this really is the era of changing Scream's narrative

Kym said herself that the this was a different genre of horror than what had been established before, where "we make our own rules", "we" referring to POC- specifically black, wich is a good distinction for her to have made, actually

Wile Jordan Peele and "Get Out" were the only ones directly referenced, horror starring black charectors is SIGNIFICANTLY different than horror starring white charectors, and often defies the typical white tropes- yes, Jordan Peele is an example, but also "The Intruder", "No Good Deed", "When The Bough Breaks", among other newer ones, but even older, classic horror has this distinction, specifically, Night Of The Living Dead breaks alot of horror tropes- especially for the era- and turns what could have been a basic zombie movie into a really social-political-laden message with a truly tragic ending

It's worth noting that of "The Deadfast Club" (a reference I'm about to go into later) only Manny and Beth are white, a great and stark contrast to most of these kinds of groups in movies

This iteration of Scream could be breaking some of the rules, and though Scream is known for breaking horror movie rules in general, it could be that, as this iteration is the first not to star a white protagonist, there's an effort being made to break even MORE rules- even some of the ones Scream it's self usually held dear, and one of those could be the very format, instead of spending the entire show wondering who the killer is, we find out in episode three or four who it is and spend the rest of the series just trying to defeat him- or even resolving the loose ends of his backstory somehow

I could go on about this more but it's now 2:15 so I'd better move on

The Breakfast Club is the other major reference that doesn't fit in with the typical horror movie jargon

In fact, it's so prominent that episode one is named "The Deadfast Club", the only title I know of to make a clear movie reference, and yet it isn't to a horror movie

It isn't like that's new, all of the second season episodes were named after horror films, but that's just it- HORROR films

Scream has only ever been about analyzing and breaking down the horror genre, I don't remember ever seeing a reference quite this big to anything non-horror in Scream before

That said, I'd like to pick at the meaning for this

Firstly, Manny is right, The Breakfast Club only had five roles and five stereotypes (although six charectors, I can't see yet how Manny could fit Vernon's role)

But here comes another interesting problem- wile it's true that Manny doesn't fit any of the five stereotypes... neither does Kym

The stereotypes fit the other four seamlessly

"The Princess"- Liv, Deion himself calls her an "It girl" "The Athlete"- Deion "The Brain"- Amir "The Criminal"- Beth

But that just leaves "The Basket-Case" and I don't think that can apply to Kym, unless the term is meant more affectionately in the movie (I wouldn't know, having not seen it) but I have a feeling that isn't the case, and even if it was, it still wouldn't fit, Kym is passionate sure, but I haven't seen anything that could make her suit a term like "crazy"- not to mention "basket case", only and simply "rebellious", but "criminal" certainly doesn't fit her either as, to my knowledge, she's never committed a crime

This leaves a pretty interesting opening- well, two interesting openings:

1. If Kym and Manny don't have roles to fill, will they be the two lone survivors? The writers had to put some thought into making these charectors fit to the stereotypes in order for The Deadfast Club to really work as a reference but purposely created Manny and Kym to oppose ALL of them, they could have just as easily created the two of them to simply "share" roles with the others, making Manny fit more of the "brain" role for example, but choosing not to means they want these two to stand out

And how convenient that they just so happen to be the only long-standing freinds in The Deadfast Club, the only ones not getting to know eachother for the first time

Ofcourse by the same factor this could mean they'll be the only two to die but that would suck on alot of levels

2. Far more importantly though, not only did the writers specifically care to create two charectors that didn't fit any roles... they also chose to have one role that didn't fit any of the charectors, unless you double up and label Beth as "the basket case" too, wich I don't personally buy- why would they bother doing that? Why not make a charector just for that role? Or atleast make it alluded to that Beth was both- then there's one role that doesn't have anyone in it

That's awfully strange, that's not just one, but two flaws for The Deadfast Club as a theme

Beth even tries labeling them all herself but when she gets to Kym, who she was obviously going to label "The Basket Case", Kym stops her, both refusing that label and refusing to be labeled at all- very significant

Heading back to our previous point on different types of horror, Beth herself claims that most of the group being black is an "instant kill", and wile LGBTQ+ people are scarce in horror, they're usually just as quickly murdered, the "Burry Your Gays" trope certainly didn't emerge from sitcoms after all

If Kym and Manny are the only survivors, that would be breaking a handfull of "horror rules" right there, and bring us full circle to Kym saying that "we make up our own rules"- plus, Deion is being given to us as the hero, and Liv was, as Beth said, "final girl material", we expect both of them to make it out alive because horror as a genre dictates that we should, but what if episode five gets here and it's Kym who becomes the hero?

I went off topic there but there's something more important about there not being a "basket case" role in the Deadfast Club, namely: What if there IS one and we don't know it yet? Namely, the killer?

There are two options with that:

1. The killer is an outsider who becomes involved with the Deadfast Club in some way down the line, sort of like how Shane was- who I was going to nominate for this before he was killed off- or is perhaps already connected to them (like Deion's brother) or...

2. The reason we don't have a clear basket case is because one of the Deadfast Club is the killer

In this case, it could be anyone

As Manny and Kym don't have labels, it could be one of them (thus filling the roles and leaving wichever one ISN'T the killer to be the Final Girl) or it could be one of the other four doubling up on labels like I suggested earlier on

If this is the case, my money is on Liv- as The Princess, she would be the least likely to be suspected, it would be a unique twist, and no one in the group would think to suspect her (except maybe Beth but she'll probably be killed right after coming to this conclusion)

Regardless of who it is, they'll have to do a new list in the last episode referencing the dead members, and the new discovery of their basket-case....

Believe me, I want to go into this SO much more, but it's 3 AM now and I still have other things to do, trust me though, tommorrow brings more Scream, and with luck, more theories as well!

[frauleinsmaria]

The Village is a Glow (2/2)

A/N: This is the final part to my CSSS gift for @eastwesthomeisbest ! Thanks for being patient with me while I recovered from Christmas retail and tried to work out some of the kinks in the story. I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve enjoyed getting to know you! Special thanks again to @profdanglaisstuff for beta duties and @cssecretsanta2k18 for hosting this event.

Summary: Killian Jones credits moving to the Big Apple for getting his photography career off the ground. He also has it to thank for causing his first run-in with Emma Swan, who makes him question every photo he takes afterward. 

AO3

Coming to the conclusion that there was something extraordinary about Emma Swan was fairly simple. Putting his finger on just what that something was, however, was anything but.

The first time, he’d chalked it up to coincidence; a change in his camera settings, the way the light reflected off of the lens maybe. The second was enough to make him question things.

The problem was finding her. Everything he knew about Emma was limited to her name, her age, her taste in movies, and that she worked at a bookstore in the city. In a place like New York, he might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack. He’d tried looking her up on social media, feeling both a bit nosy and disappointed when he scrolled through the list of accounts of people with the same name who obviously weren’t the blonde consuming his thoughts.

Killian soon found himself just hoping that his good luck she’d referenced the day of their first meeting would work in his favor again. He’d found her unintentionally twice, and what was that they said about the third being the charm?

What would he even say to her the next time they inevitably ran into each other? Hello, Swan. Funny thing, I’ve noticed this odd golden haze over both of the pictures I took before encountering you and wondered if you would be willing to provide an explanation. Are you a witch, fairy, magician, or involved in some other kind of odd supernatural activities I’m not familiar with? Because that definitely wouldn’t cause her to question his sanity (even though he’d questioned his own every single time he looked at either of those two photos and the golden glow that permeated both.)

In the meantime, he went about his regular routine and kept himself busy with work. Ruby and Belle had been ecstatic over the photos he’d emailed them not long after the impromptu photo session in the park. Both women sent him lengthy messages thanking him and yet again offering some kind of payment for his time and the pictures. His only request was that they consider seeking him out again next time they were in the city.

(He knew it was no coincidence that the last photo with the mysterious golden glow was the picture Ruby posted on her Instagram account first and Belle made her profile image, both women tagging him and insisting all their friends consider him for sessions in the future.)

Good luck must have been on his side after all, because two weeks later, he was walking home on a Friday afternoon when he saw a familiar face framed by blonde curls standing in the front window of a store with a sign claiming itself to be Booth’s Books. He’d found it- more importantly, he’d found her. Of all the bookstores in New York, Emma Swan was working at one less than six blocks from his apartment.

Killian quickly ducked inside, the bell on the door announcing his arrival as he made a sharp left and found himself face to face with Emma.

“Oh! Killian?”

“Hello, Swan. You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

“Do you need help finding a book?”

“Er, not exactly.” “I really hate to bother you at work, but would you have a few minutes to chat anytime soon? Or I could come back later when you’re free.”

“I’ll get a break in thirty minutes if you don’t mind waiting. There’s a coffee bar at the lounge area in the back.”

“Thank you, love. And don’t rush on account of me; I’m in no hurry.”

Killian made himself a blonde roast with cream and sat back to flip through a random magazine on a nearby table while he waited for Emma’s shift to end. True to her word, she appeared at his side half an hour later, wearing a red leather jacket over her white sweater and was pulling a gray knit beanie on her head.

“I thought maybe we could go for a walk and talk about whatever’s on your mind? The store is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I can only stay in the place where I work for so long afterward.”

“Of course, love. I’m following you.”

She led him out of the store and into the chaos of afternoon traffic, both of them darting around other people to keep up with each other, Killian desperate not to lose her before asking the questions that had been boggling him for days now. He followed her to City Hall Park, only fitting considering their last encounter.

“I thought we may have a better chance of having a legit conversation here.”

“Aye.” The park wasn’t empty by any means, but they could speak to each other coherently without as many outside interventions.

“So, uh, why is it that you were so glad to see me? Unless you couldn’t find Granny’s on your own and needed me to give you directions to curb your grilled cheese cravings.”

“Afraid not- although that does sound quite appealing, now that you mention it.” He took a deep breath. “Swan, I’m not sure just how to approach this, but- wait.” He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and brought up the picture of the sun he’d taken right before their first meeting. “What do you think of this?” he asked, holding it up for her to see.

“That’s really neat, especially the way the sun looks with the golden haze over the photo. Did you take it?”

“I did. I took this one as well.” He swiped through a few more photos to find the one of Ruby and Belle, showing it to her next.

“Killian, these are great pictures...but I doubt showing me your work was the real reason you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s not so much the photography I’m concerned about. Okay, it is, but not in the way that it sounds. You see, Swan, none of my other photos look quite like these two. And these were both photos I took promptly before running into you.”

Her eyes widened. She bit her lip and glanced away from him. “So, what are you insinuating here? You think I help your ability to take good pictures?” She forced a laugh, but he could tell she was now suddenly worried.

“I honestly don’t know what to think, love. Other than this is all too concrete and specific for me to believe it was a lucky coincidence on my part.”

“Well, we have established that you tend to attract good luck.”

“I think there’s a lot more than luck behind this, love, and something tells me you’re thinking the same.”

Emma made a noise that was something between a sigh and a groan. “Would it be that hard to chalk it up to fate and that you’re a good photographer?”

Maybe this wasn’t Killian’s best idea. She evidently didn’t want to discuss whatever it was she knew about the photos. As much as he wanted answers, he didn’t want to risk making her any more uncomfortable than she already seemed to be. “I apologize, Swan. You’re not obligated to tell me anything, photos or not. I’ll let you go now, if that’s what you like. I’m sorry again if I made you uncomfortable and for taking up your time.” He turned to leave when she called out his name.

“Wait.” Was she having a change of heart? “Never in a million years would I have seen myself asking this question to a guy I’ve met all of three times, but since you seem decent and you’re so perceptive: do you believe in magic?”

“A month ago I would have said no. Now, I’m starting to feel open to anything.”

“So, I have certain...abilities,” she began. “There’s no solid explanation, but I can essentially create certain auras or illusions based on my emotions. It doesn’t happen all the time, mostly when I’m feeling pretty strongly about something. They usually look like a trick of the light or something, so most people don’t even notice something’s off unless they have tangible evidence afterward.”

“Like my photos?”

“Exactly. I’m sure it was hard for you to see past it considering it probably didn’t show up in the rest of your photos. I didn’t even know it could be captured on camera until you showed me just now.” Her eyes kept flitting from his to the ground. This wasn’t easy for her to share with him.

“That’s quite extraordinary, Swan.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So you don’t think I’m crazy yet? Not gonna call the cops or run for your life?”

What kind of people had she had this conversation with before? “I take it people you’ve shared your abilities with in the past haven’t been very accepting.”

“That would be an understatement.” She barked out a laugh. “I’ve been called a psycho bitch by guys over this before.”

“Well, I can’t lie to you and say it’s easy to wrap my mind around all of this just yet, but I have no reason to believe you aren’t being truthful love, photos or not.”

“You really mean that?”

“Aye. Your secret is safe with me. And I can delete those two photos from my social media pages if that would make you more comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay. Two pictures aren’t enough to tip people off about anything; they probably just thought you used a different lens or filter.”

There was a moment of silence before Emma noticed the time. “I’m really sorry; I have to be back at the bookstore in ten minutes. August and Marco have been great to me so far, and I don’t wanna do anything that could change that.”

“I understand, Swan. I’ll walk back with you now if that’s alright.”

“Sure, thanks.”

They were silent on the walk back to the bookstore, Killian feeling relieved to have answers about the connection between Emma and his photos, but also unsure of where this would go next, if anywhere.

“Killian?” She asked as they walked up to the store’s entrance.

“Yes?”

“Would you, uh, be up for getting coffee again sometime? Or hot cocoa, whatever. If it’s too weird that’s fine, but, I dunno, you’re easy to talk to and I really appreciate someone who doesn’t freak out over a conversation like the one we’ve been having.”

It was the last thing he expected, but he would’ve been a fool to say no. “Of course. Nothing would make me happier.” They exchanged numbers with her promising to get in touch soon.

He received his first text from Emma not two days later. I could totally go for another grilled cheese from Granny’s if you’re free tomorrow afternoon.

With onion rings?

Fast learner. I like you.

He showed up to Granny’s the next afternoon twenty minutes early, eager to see her and learn everything about herself that she was willing to share, whether it involved her abilities or not.

Emma arrived just on time, red-faced and wearing the same jacket and beanie from a few days earlier. She dropped into the seat across from him and let out a deep breath. “Sorry, I ran from the store. I thought I was gonna be late.”

“Quite alright, Swan. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead a few minutes ago and ordered the same thing we had the last time. You can get something else if you wish, of course, but I’m familiar with your penchant for grilled cheese.”

“You might be my favorite person in the whole world,” she said, beaming, just as the waitress walked over with their orders.

They ate and spent the next hour or so unofficially resuming their conversation in the park. It had been anything but small talk, yet they still barely knew each other. She told him about how she became aware that there was something different about her at five years old when her foster parents were in a heated argument and a cloudy haze formed around them, evidence of Emma’s distress. But she didn’t discover more details behind this part of her until later.

“I was thirteen,” she told Killian. “I had run away from the group home and was at some supermarket trying to swipe food. Someone caught me, but Lily popped up out of nowhere and covered for me. She told me she could tell I was scared; apparently, if two people with these same kinds of abilities are close enough, you can feel the other person’s emotions instead of just seeing whatever manifests from them.”

“That’s…” he struggled for the right word to say. “Well, that’s remarkable, love. So you two were able to bond over your shared capabilities?”

“Not really.” Something told him that story didn’t have a pleasant ending. “But it gave me an idea of how to spot other people like me. I’ve found half a dozen or so since, mostly in smaller areas where it’s easier to detect. It’s a nice reminder that there are other people like me.”

“I appreciate that you were comfortable and willing to share all of this with me, even just what we discussed in the park,” he told her as they left the diner. “I hope you know that I don’t take it lightly.”

“I do know. And it may not make sense, but I trust you.”

“I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”

“Good. Go out with me?” she asked without missing a beat.

“Come again?”

“Go out with me. Y’know, to dinner, or something. Or not,” she quickly added. “That’s fine too.”

“I would love nothing more. I only have one request, if you’re up for fulfilling it.”

“Uh, sure, I guess?”

“Would you give me the honor of taking your picture?” Killian gestured to the camera bag at its usual place on his arm. “I’ve gotten to take photos that you’ve impacted twice, but something tells me one of the marvel herself would be quite spectacular.”

“You’re such a dork,” she laughed. “But okay. What should I do?”

“Stay just as you are, love,” he said, pulling out his camera and taking a handful of images while the afternoon sun was in the perfect spot to highlight her features. He quickly brought up the last photo in his media library and couldn’t help but smile at the result: Emma, beaming, green eyes full of light, and, just as he expected, that obvious golden glow he’d become so familiar with.

Killian used to think he owed New York for getting his photography career off of the ground. Now, he knew he owed the city for introducing him to Emma Swan.

[bbclesmis]

TV Is Unwhitewashing History One Character, Period, and Genre at a Time

From “Les Miserables” and “Harlots” to “The Spanish Princess” and “The Terror,” TV producers are restoring the historical narratives of people of color.

Black characters on a show set in Tudor England would be a “stark anachronism” one consultant told “The Spanish Princess” co-showrunner Emma Frost in no uncertain terms. “Even I knew just from basic research that that wasn’t true,” she said in an interview with IndieWire during a set visit last year.

As TV shows seek out more inclusive storytelling, many producers are looking to the past to find new ways to freshen old stories. And while historical records and artwork have shown plenty of black, brown, and Asian faces through centuries of Western history, that same diversity has been largely absent in history class and on the screen unless it takes place after the 1950s. This dearth has affected the types of roles offered and even considered by actors of color.

Mandip Gill, who plays a British police officer of South Asian descent on “Doctor Who,” has only performed in contemporary projects. “I have always said I won’t be in a period drama. I just don’t see it happening,” she said. “I can’t even imagine it. When I’ve written down what types I like to play or where I would like to push the boundaries, it’s not with period dramas. I don’t watch them because I can’t relate to them.”

Danny Sapiani has had a better track record for landing period roles — such as Will North in “Harlots” and Sambene in “Penny Dreadful” — but that wasn’t always the case. “Period drama on screen was not a consideration when I began my professional career. Most film and tv roles were confined to the modern era, post-1950s, ghetto-ized in nature or victims of oppression,” he said.

David Oyelowo, who stars as Inspector Javert in the upcoming PBS-BBC adaptation of “Les Miserables,” agrees. “That was the case for me. And having grown up in the UK, and more specifically, on period drama, I had just resigned myself to the fact that, ‘Okay, those amazing shows are going to be shows I love, but they’re never going to have folks like me in it.’”

Sites like The Public Medievalist and historians like Onyeka have worked to challenge the narrative of the pure-white Western history that’s been widely accepted, even by people of color. Now actors and producers are following their example to restore the place of marginalized people on screen and into the public consciousness.

“The excuse has been used that it’s not historically accurate, and that’s just not true,” said Oyelowo. “If you are an actual genuine student of history — and not just coming from an ignorant kind of purely white lens in relation to European history — you’d know that people of color have been in France, in the UK, all over Europe, for centuries, and not just as slaves.”

Sapiani points to the discoveries and documentation available for anyone to research about the existence of people of color in Europe for centuries.

“As evidenced by the discovery of Cheddar Man, the first complete skeleton found in a gorge in Somerset, the first modern Britons who arrived on the island 10,000 years ago had black to brown skin, blue eyes and dark wavy hair. It is from these earliest arrivals that the inhabitants of Britain derive their origins,” he said.

“In fact, there are very few periods in history where people of color do not feature, not only in Britain — the setting of most costume dramas — but across the entire European continent. The census notes 20,000 blacks living in Britain in 1780, the century we focus on in ‘Harlots,’ more than half that number living in London, which is where ‘Harlots’ is set. Even though this was during the height of the slave trade, not all those people were slaves or victims of white racism. Fascinating characters like Will North, spanned social and class boundaries, often, though not always, against incredible odds.”

Hulu’s “Harlots,” about the war between two brothels in Georgian London, not only features the free man Will North, but also several black harlots, one of whom ran her own brothel.

“There were tens of thousands of people of color living in London in the 1760s. We have found stories of musicians, estate managers, fencing masters, actresses, grocers, prize fighters, haberdashers, soldiers, poets, activists, librarians and clerks,” said “Harlots” co-creator Moira Buffini.

“Some were clearly people of means, like the ‘black lady covered in finery,’ spotted by Hester Thrale at the opera. ‘Harris’s List of Covent Garden Ladies’ has entries for several women of color who were making their living in the sex trade and The Nocturnal Revels tells us of ‘Black Harriot,’ a very successful courtesan who ran a popular ‘house of exotics.’ All our stories are about people trying to find agency when society gives them none — and this seems in especially sharp relief for our characters of color. Violet is a street whore and pickpocket but from her perspective, society is the thief. Her mother was stolen. Violet, in her own eyes, is neither victim nor criminal. She has a raw integrity and a personal truth that others find both intimidating and irresistible.”

For “The Spanish Princess,” an adaptation of two Philippa Gregory historical novels set in Tudor England about Catherine of Aragon, Frost and co-showrunner Matthew Graham turned to books by Onyeka to develop characters of color who would have fit in during that time. In particular, they discovered the story of the real-life Lina de Cardonnes (played by Stephanie Levi-John in the series), a high-ranking noble woman who acted as Catherine’s lady-in-waiting and companion.

“There was a character that was referenced in Phillipa’s books who was what they call a dueñas or a lady-in-waiting to Catherine. Her name was Catalina de Cardonnes and she was just this larger than life character who was depicted as white Spanish,” said Graham. “Then we just did a bit of cursory research and discovered that it was based on Lina de Cardonnes and that she was African Iberian. She was a black lady. So, we were certainly like, ‘Wow, this is a bigger story and a more interesting story than we can possibly imagine.’”

This discovery of the larger part that people of color have played throughout history has been increasing the more people look into telling marginalized stories. The author of “The Miniaturist” Jessie Burton and Netflix’s “Anne With an E” creator Moira Walley-Beckett had similar epiphanies and added black characters in significant roles to their stories set in the Dutch Golden Age and Edwardian Canada, respectively.

In many of these cases, ignorance or acceptance of the dominant narrative could explain the lack of representation in these TV shows. The absence of photographic or film evidence made it easier to whitewash the presence of people of color.

But there’s really no excuse with period dramas set in the 20th century and beyond, when plenty of visual records show the diversity present. As with the #OscarsSoWhite campaign started by activist April Reign, the biggest problems facing more inclusive TV lay in challenging the mindset at the studio level and changing who’s behind the camera.

As seen with many of the shows that are including people of color in historical narratives, the show’s creators are often women, people of color themselves, or part of the LGBTQ community. When marginalized groups help each other, this can address intersectionality.

For example, Carol Hay and Michelle Ricci co-created the Jazz Age mystery adventure show “Frankie Drake Mysteries” coming to Ovation on June 15. Not only did they make a show about Toronto’s first female private detective, but they also cast Chantel Riley as Trudy, Frankie’s partner who happens to also be a black woman.

“When Shaftesbury [Films] came up with this idea and decided to have a black female lead, it was mind-blowing to me because you never really hear about black folk or Asian folk, in that time,” Riley said. “We touch on the Asian community, the black community, even the Indian community as well. That’s why I was really attracted to this particular show, because no one’s really doing that in this particular era.”

In some cases, actors have had to step behind the cameras themselves to increase the opportunities for people of color. Daniel Dae Kim left “Hawaii Five-0,” and the first series that he produced afterward is ABC’s “The Good Doctor,” which has provided numerous on-screen opportunities for actors from marginalized groups.

Similarly, Oyelowo became an executive producer on “Les Miserables” to take control of how his role of Javert and the other people of color were portrayed. Oyelowo also co-produced and starred in the period film “A United Kingdom.”

“I wanted to make sure that me being in [‘Les Miserables’] wasn’t going to be a token thing. I wanted to make sure that people of color were integrated through the story in an organic way that didn’t feel imposed,” he said.

“But also, something very important to me was the American distribution. I wanted it to be on a channel that was worthy of the work that everyone was putting into it. And so, I had a hand in it going to PBS Masterpiece. Anything that takes me away from my kids for any period of time better be worth it. And so, some of the times I produce in order to develop. Some of the times I produce in order to be able to have a say in how things are cast, how they are marketed, how they are distributed. And that’s basically been the case with this.”

Currently, there aren’t many period shows by people of color about people of color on TV. John Singleton’s “Snowfall” on FX is set in Los Angeles during the 1980s crack epidemic and was renewed for a third season.

Over on broadcast, the late 1990s-set comedy “Fresh Off the Boat,” based on the memoir of Eddie Huang and created by Nahnatchka Khan, a queer woman of Iranian descent, is currently in its fifth season. It’s the first TV show with an Asian cast in over 20 years — since Margaret Cho’s short-lived “All American Girl” — and stars Randall Park and Constance Wu as the Huangs, who had relocated to the Florida suburbs with their family. Khan had to make a case for why the show had to remain in the ‘90s to replicate the real-life Huangs’ feelings of alienation.

“I remember having a creative discussion with 20th [Century Fox] at the very beginning about them asking me, ‘Why does it have to be set in the ‘90s?’” she said. “For me it was creating a sense of isolation with the family. They moved to Orlando in the middle of the white suburbs and they don’t know anybody. But in the present day, you can get online and talk to your friends and you can text people. You have a connection outside of your everyday life, even if it’s virtual.”

Other than those, “Underground” was the last period show about people of color by a creator of color, Misha Green. WGN’s critically acclaimed slavery-era period drama lasted two seasons and was canceled shortly after Sinclair Media Group announced it would purchase Tribune Media, which owns WGN.

Fortunately, this scarcity won’t last for long. Many period shows that feature significant narratives for people of color are on the horizon. Green has teamed up with Jordan Peele for the HBO drama horror “Lovecraft Country,” which takes place on a road trip during 1950s Jim Crow America. Barry Jenkins executive produces and directs the upcoming Amazon series “The Underground Railroad,” an adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s book. Justin Lin and Jonathan Tropper’s “Warrior” premieres April 5 on Cinemax and is based on Bruce Lee’s original concept about a Chinese immigrant who becomes a hatchet man for the most powerful tong in late 1800s Chinatown in San Francisco.

One other upcoming series explores a new genre for the period TV show that adds a provocative take on a historical event. In its second season, AMC’s anthology series “The Terror” explores the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II through the lens of Japanese horror. Actor George Takei, who experienced internment, acts as a consultant and series regular.

“We’re telling the story of a very underserved piece of American history using the vocabulary of Japanese-style horror as an analog for the terror of the actual historical event,” said co-creator and showrunner Alexander Woo.

“I don’t want the audience to feel removed from the events that are happening on screen. What a horror movie or horror series does is it makes you feel viscerally in the shoes of the person who’s trapped in the house or the person who’s running away from the monster or whatever it is. So we’re using that style, that language, to make you really feel how terrifying the experience of the Japanese Americans who lived through this terrible experience.”

While the Japanese ghost story trappings fits the tone of the narrative in “The Terror: Infamy,” Woo acknowledges that the genre twist might have helped pitching the show.

“We’re in an era of so much content and a period of such creative power, we have more sophisticated viewers that will hopefully appreciate a period drama told in a specific style,” he said. “Those two things used to not mix. That was not something that you would want to try because it might seem complicated or it might seem challenging, which I think now, in this time, that sounds very appealing… It’s also a terrific lens for us to understand things that are happening in the present. The story of internment is obviously relevant in a host of ways to the present day, so I think it’s a valuable story and has to be told now.”

While these more inclusive narratives continue to be discovered and told, inevitably people used to the status quo will resist and deny those stories. It’s the very reason that these stories haven’t been told in the first place.

“The more recent phenomenon of whitewashing, a political tool of the imperialists, dates back only a few hundred years,” said Sapiani. “I am so proud to see, and be a part of this change towards a more accurate and frankly more interesting dramatized interpretation of our world history. Needless to say, there is so much further to go.”

https://www.indiewire.com/2019/03/tv-unwhitewashing-history-period-dramas-hbo-hulu-pbs-abc-1202049639/

[siramay-the-showgun-dragon]

Demencia Theory- Not What She Seems

hello my villainous fans and random scrollers by I am from the villainous amino and I am about to show you a theory made by my friend M. with the help of me and a few others to show you a side of dementia you do not seem to see, so before I show it heres a link to M’s original theory on amino:https://aminoapps.com/c/villainous-4971691/page/blog/demencia-theory-not-what-she-seems/8BWv_8mvCmujakwpQx6kxLZvbMaxp5L6LbghR now lets begin

Oh, Demencia, you childish, hyperactive ball of enthusiasm!

With your evil chaotic-ness and your enchanted feelings for your boss, how could you ever be more than the silly thing that meets the eye?

.

.

.

We could think of a few ways.

The following theory is brought to you by the amazing minds from the  Villainous Theory Chat! Those that were involved with this theory include: Notdepresso, Siramay (hey that's me :D), Snivy, and Lynxi!

(And me but eh)

I'm almost tempted to say "forget about all of the other theories about Demencia you may have heard of before" because, this. is. insane.

We Villainous theorists believe that Demencia is....

A Podemos Bailar agent. 

Y'all:

Now before you start shaking your heads, hear us out.

Yes, she acts like she has an evil agenda.

Yes, she's the practical personification of chaos.

Yes, she's absolutely head over heels for Black Hat

And yes, she's just so darn silly and maybe even annoying to some.

And doesn't she play it off so well?

Demencia is always at the max with all of these qualities and they never waver.

Her imperfections are too... Perfect.

But oh, is it an amazing disguise.

Who could possibly realize they're being fooled when they are too busy laughing at the fool?

As we all know, Demencia annoys and bothers both Black Hat and Flug with her obsessive and destructive qualities, to the point where they try to avoid her at all costs. Notice how it's always Demencia who approaches them and that it's never the other way around unless the two are absolutely forced to?

The woman has a ridiculous amount of free time to herself; finding the time to teach a bear and a handful of robots a song, destroy thousands of dollars worth of products, draw her Demencia Tips, attempt to romance Black Hat, make puppets, learn guitar, etc.

With all that free time and privacy... Who really knows what Demencia can and will do?

This disguise, this face she has made for herself is perfect. She is free to stalk her subjects right in front of them and not be questioned for it except for the occasional, exasperated "what does sHE THINK SHE'S DOING!?"

And this is just the minimal tip of the iceberg.

There's so much more.

Demencia's bizzare behavior truly doesn't raise any real questions because everyone within the manor is so used to it that something as odd as messing with a computer to creating your own "advertising" short without anyone's knowledge to it is seen as Demencia being Demencia.

This lizard lady could do almost anything without ever being truly interrogated for it.

She has trained her prey to not be scared of her as she walks right up to it.

Another thing to note about Demencia's behavior is her job at Black Hat Organization. As stated by Flug in the Anniversary short, Demencia handles all hero extermination. This, however, is only to his knowledge. We have no evidence other than Flug's word and a possibly staged picture to prove this. We've yet to find anything stating that a hero has died at any particular time.

In fact, we dont even know if this is really Heavy Punch's cape from the Evil Conquest episode.

cape?

Bish W H E R E ?

(And don't try to tell us it's because it's a kids show, Gravity Falls, a DISNEY production, managed to sweep in 2 paragraphs full of hidden jokes within the same screen pan without drawing too much attention from the younger audience) (besides that there are to many dark and demonic jokes in villainous for that to be a reason also just look at the episodes on mojo jojo and rob) ((this bold is me))

But this all pales in comparison to what's truly incriminating about Demencia, and the answer is found buried within this fandom's favorite bookmarked tab: Podemos Bailar.

Now, I made a post the other day about what we discovered is going on in that right side scrolling of commands on the website: http://aminoapps.com/p/56jwha

What we discovered is that two people are interacting over that animation loop. One person is telling another how to decode a specific piece of an audio file in order to get a message while the other is actually inputting the commands to do just that.

We can firmly assume that these two are our last two dancing agents.

Now how does this tie in with Demencia? Well, it has already been established that Demencia knows how to create her own codes and sneak them into BHO's production videos as we see happen in the very first short, The Perception of Evil, in which a code flashes on screen saying "Demencia Was Here".

Funny enough, a short was released a few months back called "Demencia Wuz Here". And my what a controversial short this one is if you see it like we do.

Let's break it down:

So Demencia left a hidden code for someone to decipher that referenced an advertisement short that didn't even exist yet. This means that the short was a premeditated thing and not just something done at the spur of the moment for some pickles.

What's also good to note is that there was no reference to King Wazuq's Glove before ((well like that one end frame but nothing else in like actual videos that what I think he meant)) this episode and the outer Demencia doesn't appear to be the type to search for information that deeply for something she wouldn't even know she'd need months before hand.

Unless... The heist was staged.

What we also see in this short is Demencia being able to hack into The Defence Departments, high security, Area 52 cameras in order to capture her stealing the glove. A very difficult task I'd imagine for an empty-headed lizard girl. But... She really hasn't proven herself to be all that has she?

Another thing to note is that Demencia created this entire short on her own. 505, Flug, nor Black Hat knew of this until they walked in on her but, once again, do nothing to stop her. It's just Demencia being Demencia.

Also, have any of you noticed that Demencia is the only character in Villainous so far that labels herself as an agent?

Oh, but this only goes deeper.

Not only is Demencia a Podemos Bailar agent, and not only is she working as an undercover agent amongst villains, she is also the agent telling the other what commands to input on the Podemos Bailar website.

She is telling her true co-worker exactly what to do to find a code she has hidden especially for him in her "advertisement" short.

But how can we be so sure that it's her?

How can we be so sure that it's that video specifically?

Because, if you click and drag the I See All picture into the Google search bar, you will find a link to the website's assets page. With that page are a series of links to different parts of the site. One of those links holds the exact audio file from the "Demencia Wuz Here" short...and it is the only short there.

The short Demencia made without anyone's knowing.

The short that she aquired impossible information for.

And the short she specifically designed and planned from episode one to reach out to her last comrade for and betray her villainous coworkers.

I mean, just look at her body type and compare it to the yet-to-be-found female Podemos Bailar agent! They're a practical match, thick ((EXTRA THICC note I hate using that word)) legs and all! And there is no way that giant next to her is Flug!

Also, another thing to consider is, if neither of these last two agents are on the villainous scene, then how have they been aquiring photos from within the manor? Flug's notes about 505's creation and the picture of the organization's plans to go to Japan are prime examples!

 (another thing about that japan plan pic is that in the same episode it was released with we can see dementia reading that EXSACT same magazine that's in the picture! the clues are hiding in plane sight and no one is any the wiser!)

The evidence is stacking here people, and we the Villainous Theory Chat truly believe that it's only going to become more suspicious as time goes on.

This also means that there is a secret audio code that we need to find in the "Demencia Wuz Here" video. All we need to do is follow the steps she's given us on the site in order to find it.

There is a spy among us and she is clothed in green. (A sheep in lizards clothing)

I hope you enjoyed reading our idea!

Happy Villainy!

and that's his theory he has others to I might post here but if you like this then go to the villinos amino and join are theory chat! and if you are against this theroy tell me why and we at the theory chat will try to debunk you debunking this unless your right BUT YOU GOT TO OPEN YOUR EYES DEMENTIA IS NOT WHAT SHE SEEMS, SPREAD THE WORD or not black hat might be listening and we don't want to blow her cover! but I would like to see more talk about this

so I'm siramay and remember keep claim and drag-on

[dimples-of-discontent]

13x16 thoughts (from Paleyfest)

(I may need to go back and refine later but these are my post-Paleyfest notes on 13x16.)

I loved this episode!! It was a ton of fun. It was slapstick and silly but did some heavy lifting too. Honestly, it worked the way a lot of our favorite crack episodes did and alluded to at least one of them explicitly (”Changing Channels,” obvs, and I think there may have been more subtle references to others).

I’m too tired to do a full meta analysis but here’s a kind of bullet recap, first of the most plot-based elements:

The plot turns on the fact that the Scooby Doo world, suddenly, ends up functioning like the world Sam and Dean inhabit. The boys enter the cartoon assuming all usual cartoon rules would apply (and Dean’s ready to have a rollicking good time with them) only to discover that the first murder in the haunted house is real. Ghosts are real. Death is real. Sam wants to tell the Scooby gang about it from the get-go but Dean wants to protect them and preserve their innocence.

It’s already obviously about childhood, and losing it, but Dean makes it explicit by talking about how much he loved Scooby Doo because no matter where their dad had dragged them it would always be on. They were his friends and constant companions. He is really being thrown into the best part of his childhood….and you can see why it would be the best because it’s probably his fantasy and deepest wish that the ghosts, demons, etc. of the world he inhabits would turn out just to be bad guys in masks, death wouldn’t be real, etc. It’s Dean safe place in childhood because it takes his actual life (ghost hunting) and makes it safe and even fun. Dean wants to keep his safe place safe and is shocked and horrified when the rules of his universe invade.

It’s Sam who wants to tell them the truth about monsters from the word “go” even before it’s been revealed that death can come to Scooby Doo. (Dean laments, heartbreakingly, that it doesn’t matter if he dies…what’s important is that they make sure Scooby doesn’t die because clearly he’s such an innocent creature.) Sam, who did not have his childhood cut as abruptly short as Dean and who did not have to seek solace in a cartoon world because Dean helped him make a safe space in the real world, doesn’t see the point of lying about ghosts being real. Dean, who worked to keep Sam safe from this knowledge for YEARS of his own stunted childhood by acting as a parent, does want to keep the gang in the dark because he wants them to retain their innocence. It’s a huge lampshade to the different experiences Sam and Dean had as children and as sons.

They do eventually have to tell the Scooby gang and, wonderfully, it induces an existential crisis in them. Watching Daphne question the existence of God based on what she has inferred about the afterlife is amazing. It is not what I expected. Dean brings them back from the brink by reminding them of all the good work they had done before.

I’m going to tell the ending now and then double back to some other observations: the phantom they are chasing is the ghost of a small boy who is being manipulated, through a cursed object (a pocket knife given to him by his beloved father before he died), by an unscrupulous man (the real estate agent who we met in the beginning) who unleashes the boy’s anger on whoever he chooses for his own purpose…to scare people off of property he wants to buy. This way, the villain of a typical Scooby episode actually becomes the villain of this SPN episode…the evil real estate developer.

Before heading back to their world, where they burn the pocket knife and free the ghost, Dean convinces Sam and Cas to lie to the Scooby gang and tell them that they were right initially–ghosts aren’t real. He goes so far as to stage the unmasking of the cartoon villain (the one from the original Scooby episode) and helps them to explanations involving wires, cornstarch blood, etc. Sam is grumpy about it but does it anyway. It’s crucial to Dean that they leave the Scooby gang as they found them and not saddle them with the world the Winchesters live in.

Let me just reiterate…the ghost that has been terrorizing them is frightened little boy. Who kept a pocket knife (much like the one we see being used to carve the Winchester’s initials into the Impala) as a token of his dead father. His father is symbolized and memorialized by a weapon. The weapon is the object the little boy is tied to and that another man–a bad man–can use to manipulate him into hurting others because “I just get so angry sometimes.” To be free, the knife (weapon, father’s legacy) has to be burned. There are closeups on a very sad Dean while this happens (some sad Sam and Cas too).

It is blindingly obvious that the little boy, who is wreaking havoc on the cartoon safe space of his childhood, represents Dean. To stop the destruction Dean has to let something go (he starts the episode referencing Elsa and EXPLICITLY SAYING THIS LINE I CAN’T EVEN). Something that is keeping him angry. Something that is tied to his father. Something that can be used to manipulate him, employed as a weapon to hurt other innocent people (Mark of Cain/Demon Dean plot lines). Dean is full of anger and of self-loathing and it’s coming from the same source. That source is toxic masculinity. Let it go, Dean. Let it go.

Is it also tied to issues of sexuality? I think so. I’ll reflect a little bit below, but I wanted to do the whole plot-based analysis first.

And now the less plot-based stuff:

Ok, so can the ghost represent repressed sexuality/a different form of masculinity? SO MUCH YES. Point one: Cas is the only one who stops to take a look at the ghost and is thisclose to seeing through it’s big ol’scary disguise and finding a vulnerable child. He stops and squints at it, Cas-style, and says “I’ve never seen a ghost wear such a ridiculous costume. Unless…” and then he reaches out to it, starting to push aside the veil only to be pulled away. Now if that isn’t metaphorically precisely what Cas did, and does, for Dean and his performing facade I will buy a hat so that I can eat it.

Point two, there is a scene where the ghost is chasing everyone through a series of doors on either side of a hallway (you know the scene…they run across the hallway, doors open and shut on either side, feet flying everywhere). They successfully shut the ghost in a closet with iron chains, though it’s close to breaking out. Daphne presses her body up against the door to hold it. Dean checks her out very obviously in a way that is both superfluous to and inconsistent with the plot. This means that the silhouette of a conventionally sexy woman is QUITE LITERALLY holding the closet door closed on the ghost. Metaphorically, it shows how Dean is able to use his attraction to conventionally sexy women to hold back what’s haunting him…attraction to men, ideas about a certain type of masculinity. Does it work? BIG FAT NO. The ghost breaks out anyway. (<Puts on professor cap> Have you guys read “The Beast in the Closet”? It’s by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick and is about “intense male homosocial desire as at once the most compulsory and the most prohibited of social bonds.” It’s about Henry James’s work but I think you would all dig it. <Takes off professor cap.>)

I wanted to start with that because I can tell that people are going to be very upset about Dean’s excessive flirtation with/pursuit of Daphne. And, yeah, I almost injured my eyes by rolling them so hard at some of the things he says. BUT THAT’S THE POINT. What he’s saying is a child’s idea of how a grown man would act with a woman he likes. And it bears a great deal of similarity to how Dean does act sometimes. We call it performing!Dean and wonder to what extent Dean is conscious of his performing. Given this episode I’d say..maybe .not that conscious? I feel like the overstated heterosexual dudebroness was done specifically to give us an over-exaggerated literal cartoon version of heterosexual Dean to compare to regular Dean so that anyone who doesn’t know Dean performs in his own life will have a lens through which to see it.

Also, Daphne is his childhood crush. OF COURSE he’s going to act like a moron around her. If I encountered [insert childhood TV crush here…for me it was Kevin from “The Wonder Years” for whatever reason] I’d act dumb as fuck! But you have to remember that she represents innocence for him…it’s established that all the Scoobies do (heh - puns!). Even if he’s kissing her hand or putting an arm around her or whatever there is no danger there, just like there’s no danger in the ghosts. Sexuality to Dean isn’t scary in Scooby Doo because it’s simple: it’s just a girl he likes. Except, just like how the ghosts are also dangerous, the love plot isn’t going to be that simple or that straightforward (heh - straight). You see where I’m going. Dean would rather be in a universe ghosts weren’t real because it’s safer and easier and kind of a fantasy land but they ARE real and he will have to deal with them; Dean would also rather be in a world where he was a suave, irresistible ladies’ man because it’s safer and easier and a kind of fantasy….but he’s not. Jensen even said so in his interview. Granted, Jensen’s comment may have just meant that Dean’s not suave like he thinks. But the actual episode draws a parallel that’s pretty damn clear.

Another reason to not worry: Daphne is zero interest in Dean at all. She has negative interest in Dean. Her lack of interest in Dean has created a void that is sucking all the air out of the room. She may not even know that Dean is hitting on her. She is so focused on Fred that no one else exists for her as a romantic interest. They are so obviously a pair, even though they are never shown to be together as a couple explicitly.<Stares directly into the camera like I’m on The Office.> Can Dean not see that? Is he blind? Well, he does see it, but he thinks Daphne is “settling” for Fred who represents a kind of masculinity that makes him uncomfortable (more in a sec). In point of fact, no one is romantically interested in Dean in this episode…unlike Sam who gets a lot of appreciation (and an eventual kiss) from Velma.

As for Fred, Dean begins by really hating him (so much that Sam remarks on it) and when pressed about why he attributes it to Fred’s self-confidence despite things like his “stupid ascot.” Dean comes to like and admire Fred and, ultimately, have the confidence to wear an ascot himself BECAUSE HE LIKES IT. It didn’t make Fred less of a man. It doesn’t make Dean less of a man to wear it with his plaid shirt. Fred helps Dean along the way to some self-acceptance. It’s nice. Fred is there to serve as a contrast to Dean’s overblown notions of what is “masculine” and offer another form of masculinity that is, manifestly, still appealing to the ladies.

Now, remember the Scooby Doo universe doesn’t have sex in it. It’s a cartoon. And they bend those rules only the tiniest bit here. All of Dean’s advances and even his jokes are PG. That innocence on the part of the Scoobies is played for laughs, Daphne remarking that Dean is silly for not knowing that “boys and girls don’t sleep in the same room” for example, but it’s also integral to the plot. (There are some other jokes too and, for a glorious second, I thought that they were legitimately going to reveal that Daphne and Velma were a thing but sadly not.) No one would want to ruin the Scooby universe by telling them about sex…not even Dean. Again, it contains a child’s conception of relationships.

I’m imagining some people will also be upset about how the episode treats Cas. I was especially stung that, right at the outset, Dean says flat-out that “Cas is basically a talking dog.” I made a noise of indignation that made people look at me. BUT let’s also remember how much Dean loves that talking dog. He’d die for him. He wants to protect him at any cost. He doesn’t want to spoil his innocence. So, yeah, that’s not a nice thing to say but it’s also not the whole story. Cas is grouped with Scooby and Shaggy the whole time and he bonds with them, SMILING (ALERT ALERT CARTOON CASTIEL KNOWS HOW TO SMILE) AND LAUGHING when he has to leave. He thanks them for showing him the importance of humor even in dangerous times. I think it’s a good lesson for Cas and his real affection for them reminds me of what a soft character he is inside, wanting to get a cat or save monkeys or keep bees. That’s been missing from Cas lately (even though I do LOVE bamf!Cas) so maybe this will help him recall it.

I want to say again that Cas is the one who can see through the ghost and its “ridiculous costume.”

Interestingly, both his entrances (his first appearance after Fred and Dean take off to drag race; when he reunites with the boys in the haunted house) frame him as a scary villain. The first is from behind and you just see the coat billowing out (though this did remind me of the girl running the drag race in “Grease” which…lol); the second he’s silhouetted in a window, approaching it in the rain, and is then covered with a sheet before he’s “unmasked” by Dean and discovered to be a friend. This is…pretty much Castiel’s character progression always. Looks like a threat but is discovered not to be.

Once they get back to their regular world Dean makes a remark about how that was the most fun he’s ever had “including that time with the Cartwright twins.” Cas studies him and asks “What did you do with the Cartwright twins?”. There’s a long beat in which Dean looks shifty and grins and shakes his head and turns away. Sam says “I don’t think I want to know.” Cas says nothing. Cas does want to know. This is new and part of a general progression that @amwritingmeta wrote a great analysis of where Cas is becoming able to think something like Forget that sacred oath…I must know what Dean did with those twins.

There was probably more, you guys, but it’s super late for my poor body clock. Please feel free to pass this on to anyone you think would like it but bear in mind that a) there are MASSIVE SPOILERS, b) this is just my interpretation of the episode, and c) I only saw it live once so my details may be wrong.

I thought this as a fantastic episode the more I think about it and I’m SO EXCITED to hear your thoughts!! <3

[avengcrwanda]

The Last Jedi Secrets Explained: Transcript

So I watched the video shared by @sleemo​ on the secrets of The Last Jedi as discussed by the Lucasfilm story group. I made a transcript of the interesting tidbits (at least, for me) and am sharing in case you guys want to read. I have interpretations also in between so let me know what you think!

(For the Reylo force bond one, I referenced the transcript of @felixazrael​ - you and @sleemo​ are awesome!)

I’m just halfway through the video so please forgive me. Will add when I watch the rest. :)

Topics I covered are:

Kyber crystal necklace of Luke

Resistance access to First Order blueprints

Millennium Falcon dice

DJ

Porgs and their colors

Holdo Hero Silence Scene

Rey and Kylo force bond

1) Kyber Crystal Necklace of Luke

Andi: I was asking you about the kyber crystal necklace... Pablo: That's right. Andi: And it's just something that he has? Pablo: It's just an interesting prop to suggest he's been out  in the galaxy collecting clues and doing research about the history of the Jedi. So I mentioned that it was just a captured trophy from a Jedi crusader from ages past. What I'm hoping to is to just be evocative enough to pick up that thread and say, "Hey you know what, I bet you that's what this story is." And we definitely have the avenues and the channels to tell those kinds of stories.

Potential Knights of the Old Republic storyline? Revan? I just remembered all the fake leaks saying it was Darth Vader’s kyber crystal LOL. This was a case of reading too much into things.

2) On the Resistance having the layout of the First Order's ships

Matt: There's one more good Battlefront Connection. In the Resurrection DLC...(laugh on spoilers) Iden and her daughet Zay and Triv (?) actually find plans to the Dreadnought, which are then... They transfer it to the Resistance and that is what kind of helps with Poe's attack. They wouldn't have known where to plant those bombs if it wasn't for Iden and her squad. Andi: That's cool. Pablo: It's not only the Dreadnought but also more information about the First Order military and fleet. We'd like to think that's partially where the map that Rose has that she projects in order to explain what the plan is to get to the Mega Destroyer.

This explains a lot to me. I just found it so weird the Poe knew where all the canons were and that Rose suddenly had the layout of the First Order’s ships.

3) Millennium Falcon Dice

Andi: We have to talk about the dice: legendary Millenium Falcon prop. And we finally get to see it up close here. Leland: We were gonna put it in The Force Awakens and then they ended up changing it. Matt: I think they're technically there, you just don't actually see it in a shot. Leland: There was a shot where Han was gonna put the dice up. Pablo: JJ shot a scene where Han hangs them up and Rian saw that and that's why he made such a - you know - a meal out of the dice in The Last Jedi. But then JJ cut the dice appearance in The Force Awakens. So as a result, what Rian ends up referencing, is not so much The Force Awakens but A New Hope because that's the clearest thing - Andi: Right. Thats just something that people who've been fans for a long time - they just know it's there even if they haven't really seen it. Pablo: But even if they don't, the shot establishes that Luke goes onto the Falcon and reaches up so you understand that's something that's remained on the Falcon - Andi: Something sentimental. And that might be something that pops back up. Matt: *hinting voice* Maybe. Wink wink.

I’m pretty sure Luke never gave the dice back so maybe Matt’s “wink wink” doesn’t mean anything. Unless Rey is coming back to Ach-to to retrieve Luke’s stuff. Or Kylo/Ben might get it back one day? I’m not sure.

4) DJ

Andi: Speaking of DJ...who wants to tell the story of DJ? Rayne: When Rian was developing the story, he had this idea of this politically agnostic character that would be of service to them. So I feel like in the story group conversations we just called him DJ for don't join because that was his ideology - don't join. And I don't know when did we decide that that is actually gonna be his name. Andi: Instead of Ezra Bridger. *laughs* Pablo: That's what his hat says - I'm Ezra. Rayne: But that was a placeholder name that ended up working out really really well. Pablo: And it's a reference to Elvis Costello. Matt: Yeah, an Elvis Costello poster - really great kind of punk rock Elvis Costello poster. Pablo: And yeah, his hat does say "Don't Join." Leland: Which was on the action figure so that was actually revealed before the movie came out.

I’m putting links for both Ezra and Elvis in case you guys don’t know them. LOL. This tidbit we basically confirmed (as mentioned by Leland) before the movie came out. I just feel we need more DJ content. Hahaha.

5) Porgs and Their Colors

Andi: Has it been confirmed that Porgs look different based on their sex? Rayne: The male Porgs have the orange around the eyes. Pablo: Yeah, they're the more colorful ones. So Chewie's little sidekick Porg is a boy Porg. Andi: Does Chewie's Porg have a name? Pablo: No, but that's something that we could get Star Wars to hashtag. Matt: I feel that Chewie would have named it and we wouldn't have been able to pronounce it. Pablo: What if he named it Han? All: Awwwww.

I’m a fan of Porgs so this was really interesting. I noticed that the colors were different but didn’t think of attributing it to sex. And I don’t have a copy of the Visual Dictionary and Art Book (sadly, not available in my country yet) so I am putting this here.

6) Holdo Hero Silence Scene

Andi: One of my new favorite moments in Star Wars is that moment of silence. Rayne: Holdo the hero. Andi: Is there any specific inspiration that went into that, or what was the process of creating that moment? Because that was astounding. Pablo: All I know is that Rian - he had it in the story pretty early on. Rayne: We called it the Holdo the Hero Scene. Pablo: He was asking about the dynamics and the physics - Star Wars physics - could a ship do this? What does it mean? Does this upset anything? And we were like, well, the fact that the Resistance cruiser and the Mega Destroyer are so close in size - I mean obviously one's still much bigger - that kind of what allows you to have this Titanic explosion that happens. If you flew an X-wing into a ship at light speed, you're not gonna get that. You're only gonna get that if something is big as Holdo's ship, that's what it does. But in terms of how it was staged, I think we were all caught by surprise at how we did it because it was really beautiful. Matt: Especially the sound. I didn't l know that they were gonna cut the sound until the film. First time I saw the final cut - Andi: It's brilliant. Matt: It's amazing. And it's cool 'cause as an audience member it allows you to hear what everybody else says.

One of my favorite scenes - it was done really nicely. I think the silence really drives the impact home.

7) Reylo Force Bond (!!!)

Rayne: The little subtleties when you have the Rey and Kylo force connection moments, how the sound from each of their environments kind of seeps into the other's and just that simple way of telegraphing that they're connected. Pablo: And that's something Rian had in his idea from the very start - that we would use a very low tech - basically in-camera cinematic trick to understand that those two are communicating. You could have done a version where there was all sorts of wizardry shaping the screen but no. It's just the oldest cinematic trick in the book. Rayne: Eye lines and - Pablo: Yeah, and it works. Matt: Yeah, and it completely - just the eye line itself completely sells it. Leland: Plus there's some dialogue in there that Kylo Ren says: "Can you see me? I can't see you." Andi: That's why he was shirtless the next time. *laughs* Pablo: You never know. Working on his guns - Andi: *counting, exercising* Pablo: Oh, I didn't see you there. Andi: Oh, hey. Matt: He actually spent a lot of time walking completely shirtless hoping for that connection to kick in. Oh, sorry. Andi: So good, so good. Rayne: It kinda goes back to something that Larry Kasdan used to talk about when we were doing The Force Awakens. It's not in the script but when he peers into her mind, there's something profound that happens between them and the way that Larry used to describe it was there's this *emphasis* ENERGY between them like this kind of almost - and I don't want to say it - but something a little more than you expect and I think it's fun to see it play out in the story as well. Pablo: It feels like there's definitely a door opened between the two of them in The Force Awakens, where they pull from each other in terms of skills and memories. And then that is the more poignant at the end [of The Last Jedi] when that door essentially closes, it's sort of - it's The Godfather shot of the door closing between Michael and Kay. And that's like *door closing actions* Millenium Falcon door separates them. Andi: And actually the connection between Rey and Kylo made me think about the connection between Ezra and Maul that we see in Rebels. Something happens with them in the Force that links them. That's something that we've seen before. Pablo: Yeah. I think Rian and Dave share a lot of ideas and commonalities and interesting themes. The crystal foxes are an example of nature coming to the aid of those on the Light. And that's definitely part of something in Ezra's story line.

Reylos are right! Force bond in the interrogation scene! Rey pulled skills from Kylo/Ben! (although Pablo hinted at this before) 

On The Godfather reference - I've linked The Godfather ending scene above in the transcript. I don't think they mean it's the same literally. It was just shot similarly and they both show two love interests who are separated by their ideals. I haven't watched any of The Godfather movies but I read the summaries and Michael and Kay reconciled in the end. There were still some tragedies but it's important to note that the two films/trilogies are very different. Star Wars won't follow The Godfather route.

Also, I don’t think that Pablo means the force bond is gone. It’s just that they’re separated at that moment - physically and on their ideals. I feel that it’s a waste of story potential to do away with the force bond. Everyone I know found it cool.

So there ya have it! I’ll watch the rest of the vid when I get home.

[ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade]

@thirdstreetcettin is solely to blame for this one-shot; I practically needed a cigarette after reading this fic she wrote featuring everyone’s favorite strategist getting some—ahem—roadside service, and was immediately inspired to write my own smutty scenario revolving around Ignis and the Regalia.

The good news for any fans of my redheaded OC is that I brought her out of the woodwork to write this fic; the bad news is that in spite of this being titled Part 7 of the series, it technically takes place before Part 6, which is where her story ultimately ends. I even drew a little companion piece to go with it (full-view under the cut); it was getting late so I left it mostly unfinished, but perhaps one day in the near future I’ll take a stab at rendering it more fully.

As always, click on the link above or the cut below to read the full text; Astoundingly NSFW.

Of all bloody days, the redhead thinks, wrapping her coat a little tighter around herself.

Her footfalls echo against pillars of concrete as she shifts impatiently from foot to foot. It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary to find herself waiting for the strategist’s midnight signal in the underground parking structure of his apartment complex; although she usually listened for the sound of his front door unlocking from the shadows of his floor’s elevator landing, on occasions when the crown prince stayed up abnormally late and trolled the hallways—he lived just three units down from Ignis—more clandestine measures were sometimes required.

It made little difference to her where precisely she waited for him, but the dimly lit garage was thirty feet below street level and several degrees colder besides, and rainy nights like tonight made it all the more frigid. The soft ringlets she had coiled into her tresses had long since atrophied into limp waves despite the umbrella she had brought along with her; she wouldn’t have bothered curling her hair at all knowing he would rake his hands through it within five seconds of liberating her from her clothes, but today was a special day, and she had hoped he might take note of her extra effort.

But the strategist wasn’t even there to comment on her crimson lipstick and silk skirt—still upstairs entertaining his royal charge, presumably—and the clock on her cellular tells her he’s kept her waiting forty-five minutes longer than their customary agreed-upon time. She steps slowly toward a familiar black sports car parked in a private valet space and runs her fingers along the single word affixed to the bumper in raised letters, blowing out a frustrated sigh and tucking herself behind the vehicle in an effort to shield herself from the worst of the evening chill.

It’s only when she’s checked her mobile five more times in as many minutes that she finally hears a second set of footsteps echoing throughout the quiet parking structure. She knows it’s him by the sound of his stride; his long legs and rigid posture gave his gait a distinct air of authority that could be heard even before being seen. She smooths down her skirt as best she can—the light drizzle on her walk over to his apartment had left it slightly damp—then moves out from behind the car as she spots his lanky figure approaching.

“Having trouble putting the baby to sleep?” she teases.

Ignis’ spectacled features materialize into view as he steps into the glow of a nearby light fixture, his expression a mixture of annoyance and guilt. “Apologies. It appears Noct has an important final tomorrow he forgot all about, and is currently pacing my flat in a state of utter panic.”

He’s wearing his leather jacket, she notes, which wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact that he was presently shoving his hands into his driving gloves as well. “Going somewhere?”

“An errand,” he replies quickly, then tosses her a quizzical glance. “Haven’t you been outside? You’ll catch a cold wearing a skirt in this dreaded weather.”

She ignores the hint of disapproval that laces his voice and closes the distance between them. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m wearing a skirt in the first place?”

She knows it’s not the fear of being witnessed that causes the strategist to shy away from her when she moves to touch him; the parking structure had multiple surveillance cameras stationed at strategic points along the interior, but the spaces reserved for royal use were left unmonitored specifically for the purpose of obscuring which vehicles the prince entered and which were decoys. It’s why Ignis had always told her to wait behind the Regalia whenever she was exiled to the garage—the very car she was standing beside right now.

“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” he says carefully, “but I’m actually going to have to ask you to leave.”

Her face falls. “You’re joking.”

“I’m afraid not. A midnight tutoring session was the last thing I was hoping to deal with this evening, but I can’t very well let Noct fail his exam.”

“What are you going to do? Take his test for him?”

“No, but I can run to the convenience store and pick up some Ebony. That ought to keep him awake and studying for another couple of hours.”

She narrows her eyes, then retrieves her wet umbrella from her purse and sets her jaw. “I’ll go with you.”

He finishes tightening his gloves and meets her defiant gaze with a infuriatingly blank one of his own. “That would be… inadvisable.”

“Why?”

He then fishes his car keys from his pocket and moves to the driver’s side of the Regalia. “Because while we might be safe from prying eyes here, there’s no less than ten security cameras trained on the garage’s exit ramp.”

“I’ll hide in the back seat, if that’ll put your mind at ease.”

“That doesn’t resolve the dilemma of being seen together outside the Citadel.”

She might’ve laughed, had the vein in her temple not suddenly begun to throb. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, Ignis. Who’s going to care at this hour?”

“I care,” he says sharply. “I’d rather not risk my reputation over a few cans of coffee, if it can be helped.”

The redhead wouldn’t have deigned to presume he would ever entertain her in any official capacity; the fantasy of being wined and dined by him publicly at fancy restaurants and luxury resorts was just that—a fantasy, one she knew would never realistically occur while they were both chained to their loyalties to the crown. It would take nothing less than the complete extinction of the Lucian family line to make Ignis Scientia renounce his vows to the king and heir, and indulging in silly delusions was a wasted effort entirely.

But the few hours of privacy she shared with him each night was the only thing she’d ever really had to look forward to since swearing her oath to Insomnia and its constituents, and she wasn’t about to relinquish that small mercy without a fight, especially since she’d been on her feet since early that morning assigned to mundane gate duty. She might’ve been in a less combative mood under different circumstances, more sympathetic to the strategist’s plight, but today was a special day, and her temper is eating away at her patience.

“Your reputation already precedes you,” she snaps. “What difference does one more notch in your belt for people to gossip about make?”

She had never seen the strategist angry before, and even goading him now does little to dent his enduring stoicism; still, her remark hits a visible nerve—whispers surrounding his numerous romantic dalliances had reached her ears long before she had ever met him in the flesh—and she can see a spark of ire flash behind his emerald eyes.

He taps a button on his keys without breaking her stare. “If you’re going to bark at me like that, let’s at least resolve our differences behind closed doors.”

His canine metaphor mercifully stops short of referencing any female dogs, and the soft click of the Regalia unlocking breaks through the roar of her pulse rising in her ears. She returns her umbrella to her purse before grudgingly dropping into the passenger seat as he settles in behind the steering wheel; rather than inserting the keys into the ignition, however, he simply places them on the dashboard and pushes back on his glasses with a gloved hand.

“Care to enlighten me on what this is really about?” he asks, the irritation in his voice unmissable. “You don’t generally get this testy with me unless I’m tripping you with my lance on the sparring mat.”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes and casts a heated glance in his direction. “Perhaps I was simply unaware of the full extent of your duties to the prince. Do you audit his classes for him while he’s out playing hooky as well? Kiss his scraped knees when he falls off his bicycle? Read him a bedtime story before he turns in for the night?”

“Don’t be obtuse. I do what is required of me, regardless of the circumstances.”

“Well, then I suppose we’re all rather doomed if the future king of Lucis can’t even remember to study for his high school exit exams.”

He props a hand on the steering wheel and turns in his seat to face her. “What would you have me do? Go up there and kick him out?”

“You’re the one who let him waltz into your apartment uninvited,” she counters. “If you ask me, I’d say you were somewhat of an enabler.”

His grip over the steering wheel tightens. “I didn’t ask you, and that’s not really your place to comment.”

She isn’t quite sure how she went from being a glorified bed warmer to an expert on his relationship with the crown prince, but the look of ire on his face silences any further argument from her. “If you weren’t interested in my opinions,” she mutters, "all you had to do was tell me to keep my mouth shut and look pretty.”

Several uncomfortable moments pass before either one of them speaks. “I was under the impression you understood the limitations of what I could offer,” he says finally. “I’d just as soon bring our dealings to an amicable end if you’re finding them no longer favorable.”

The fire coursing through her veins is quickly replaced by cold tendrils of defeat; the strategist wouldn’t have been the first man to abruptly part ways with her, and the redhead was cynical enough by now to promptly extinguish any feelings of sentimentality before they could leave a lasting scar on her heart. “Perhaps I did allow my expectations to grow a bit lofty.”

“There would be no lingering resentment on my part, I can assure you.”

It isn’t so much the act of terminating their partnership that feels like a swift kick to the teeth, but the painful indifference in his voice; perhaps the rumors that Ignis Scientia had a magitek generator in place of his heart were true, after all. “How kind of you.”

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t the resolution you were hoping for.”

His face is angled toward her, but she can’t see him, not really, because her eyes are welling up despite her best efforts at clamping down on her emotions. “Of all bloody days,” she whispers.

“I beg your pardon?”

A sharp bite to the inside of her cheek is enough to stay her tears, and she sniffs once before focusing her attention on the folds of her skirt. “Did you know today was my birthday?”

His hand falls from the steering wheel, and she can hear the creaking of the leather seat shifting beneath him. “I did, actually.”

Of course you did, because you know everything. You just have all the answers, don’t you? “I see.”

“I even baked a cake with your name on it, if you’ll believe it. Literally.”

The aching in her chest eases a tad. “Literally?”

He’s fiddling with the buckles of his gloves when she finally returns her gaze to him. “Indeed. I piped the letters in buttercream frosting, but I had to toss the whole thing away rather suddenly when Noct came barging through my door wailing about functions and derivatives.” He then offers her a halfhearted grin. “Couldn’t have any incriminating evidence about my personal life lying around.”

Maybe the strategist really did have a magitek generator humming inside his ribcage, or maybe she just didn’t know him well enough to discern whether his apathy was simply a byproduct dictated by an increasingly demanding profession. But the redhead wasn’t aware of any MTs who were skilled in the art of confections, nor one with a smile as endearing as his, so she reaches across the divider and touches a tentative hand to his own.

“I didn’t mean to imply I was dissatisfied with our arrangement,” she says quietly. “Only that I was hoping to spend the last few hours of my birthday with enjoyable company. I don’t have any family within a hundred miles of Insomnia, and sitting alone on my couch nursing a bottle of wine didn’t seem quite as fulfilling. I ought to have known competing with the prince for your attention would be a losing battle.”

His fingers tighten around hers, the shadows of the dimly lit parking structure dancing across his angular features. “I’d certainly rather be sharing a bottle of wine with you than helping Noct with his overdue math homework, if I had the choice.”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand where your priorities lie.” Her lips then twist into a wry smirk. “Although I daresay I look marginally better in lipstick and a skirt than the prince.”

He releases her fingers and traces a hand across the curve of her jaw. “You look beautiful. You always do.”

His touch is warm even through the soft leather of his gloves, and her eyelids fall shut as he runs a thumb across her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Do let me make the night up to you at some point. I’d offer to salvage a slice of cake from out of the garbage, but I fear my impromptu houseguest would plunder it for himself before you even had the chance to taste it.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of a suitable alternative.”

She can’t see him through closed eyes, but she can hear him lean across the divider, can smell the scent of his cologne swirling in her nostrils. And she can feel the warmth of his breath on her face when he presses his lips gently to hers, and soon she is drinking him in and forgetting all about the chill of the words they exchanged moments before.

His hand drifts from her cheek to brush away a stray lock of her damp hair, lingering on her ear briefly before trailing down the crook of her neck. Her own hand fingers the lapel of his jacket and settles in on his chest, his heart beating like a metronome beneath his dress shirt as she moves to deepen their kiss. He yields to her advances, sampling the flavor of her lips, probing her tongue with his own, tightening his fingers around the back of her neck, until the heat in her lower abdomen reaches the surface of her skin and the windows of the car begin to fog up.

A thought occurs to her, a notion she would’ve never entertained in a hundred years under polite circumstances. But today was a special day, her special day, and it was undoubtedly starting to become rather warm inside the Regalia.

She pulls away from him slightly and lowers her voice. “Ignis?”

One cocked eyebrow appears over the top of his spectacles as he watches her shrug out of her coat. “Yes, Darling?”

“How long do you expect it’ll take for the prince to grow suspicious of your whereabouts?”

“I’m not sure—fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. The convenience store isn’t terribly far from here.”

That ought to be time enough, she thinks, tossing her jacket onto the seat behind her. “I might’ve thought of a way to make things up to me, after all.”

A second eyebrow materializes above his glasses when she reaches across the divider and rests a hand on the waistband of his pants. “You can’t be serious.”

But he doesn’t move to stop her when she loosens his belt buckle, she notes, nor does he flinch away when she nuzzles her nose against his neck. “You wouldn’t deny a birthday girl a simple request, would you?”

“I would if it involved abusing my privileges to company assets.”

“We’re not vandalizing anything, merely repurposing it temporarily. And besides—you’ve already thrown out my cake.”

“I know, and I sincerely regret that our evening plans were spoiled, but I really don’t think…”

Whatever protest he had intended to raise against her is abandoned when she lowers the zipper of his trousers and slips a hand inside. She can feel his burgeoning erection beneath the fabric of his briefs pressing hard against her palm, and he tightens a gloved hand around her wrist when she rakes her teeth along the tender spot under his ear; only then does he finally shy away, and only to turn his face toward her and capture her lips with his own.

“This is highly inappropriate, you realize,” he says hoarsely. “The Regalia is property of the crown, and an expensive one at that. It’d be irresponsible of us to treat her like some teenager’s jalopy.”

She traces the outline of his bulge with light fingers and tosses him a wink. “Knowing you, she’s probably already seen her fair share of excitement.”

For a moment, it appears as if he might attempt to make one last appeal to her reasonable side; she can see the wheels of conflict turning in his mind, can sense his desire to fulfill her needs at odds with the utter lunacy of her proposal. But the tenting in his trousers isn’t softening in the least—even a man a disciplined as the strategist had two brains constantly trying to override the other instead of just one—and soon the decision is made for him when his hips grind against her hand seemingly of their own volition.

His lips never leave hers once they’ve returned to her face, not even after she’s pushed aside the hem of his dress shirt to better access his briefs; a barely audible growl escapes him when she withdraws the warm flesh scorching his thighs—now standing at full and upright attention—and she trails one last kiss along his jaw before dipping her head below his waist. He releases her wrist to tangle his fingers in her red locks, twitching slightly in his seat when her lips meet the silky smooth skin between his legs.

His grip over her hair tightens, however, before she is able to fully envelope him in her mouth. “Darling,” he whispers, “it seems hardly fair of you to do that. We should be celebrating you, not me.”

But she loves tickling the strategist’s fancy like this, because she loves to make him happy, because nothing brings her more satisfaction than witnessing Ignis Scientia at his most vulnerable. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to return the favor,” she purrs.

The tension in her scalp then eases, and her destination is finally left unimpeded when he relaxes into her ministrations. She takes him in slowly at first, circling her tongue around the sensitive tip, gripping at the base with a firm palm, listening to his breath shortening inside his lungs. His hands move from her hair to drift down her neck, not precisely urging her on, but not willing to let go of her, either; she takes this as a positive sign, and allows a bead of saliva to trickle down his shaft before carefully pressing onward.

The redhead doesn’t need to see the expression of restrained ecstasy on his face to know how badly he wants this, because his fingers are digging into the thickest part of her shoulders now, his hips rocking gently as she settles into a steady rhythm. The hard tissues of his shaft grow increasingly more engorged with each passing stroke of her tongue, and she has to pace herself in order to accommodate his full length; a deep breath helps to widen her jaw and quell any unsolicited reflexes, until she feels the tip of his head bumping up against the back of her throat.

With any other partner, her actions might’ve felt like a bit of a chore; roadside service was fairly high up on the scale of tacky sexual endeavors, sandwiched somewhere between glory holes and toe fetishes. But Ignis had always been a gentleman of the highest class, and even if he’d had a proclivity for feet, he would’ve likely found a way to somehow romanticize the act of extremity intercourse, just has he had presently found a way to thrust his entire manhood inside her mouth nearly to the scrotum without even smearing her lipstick.

But it was admittedly getting a little hard to breath with a partially obstructed windpipe, and she knows he can sense this minor complication as well; he doesn’t say a word, and simply covers her mouth hungrily with his own as he draws her away from his naked loin and out of her seat. His lips then trail down her neck as she navigates the precarious path across the divider, settling into his lap only after she has thoroughly disentangled her knees from the drive shaft. It’s a tight fit, what with two bodies and four legs nestled in a seat designed for one, but no less comfortable, and when he crosses his arms over her waist, the warmth of his chest against her back is a welcomed distraction from the cold dampness of her skirt.

Her skirt isn’t the only thing that’s damp, however—her panties are even more of a sopping mess, and her cheeks redden when she feels his erection pressing up against the wet undergarment. But the strategist evidently has a solution to ease her embarrassment, just as he always seems to have a solution for everything in life, because he’s already gripping the lacy fabric with two eager hands and pushing it down around her knees.

Her breath leaves her lungs when he glides his hard flesh back and forth between her folds, but he doesn’t immediately plunge his shaft inside of her; instead, he props his wrists on the steering wheel, nuzzling his nose in her hair as he quickly removes his right glove. His bare hand then drops to her thigh, caressing the smooth skin there before moving up her skirt and burying themselves firmly within their target.

A cry escapes her, but he’s already pressing his lips to her ear and shushing her softly. “Quiet,” he murmurs. “The windows may be tinted, but there’s a security guard stationed fifty yards to our left.”

She bites her lower lip to prevent a second gasp from bubbling out of her throat, but the strong fingers he is probing her walls with is chipping away at her resolve. So she redoubles her efforts, sealing her eyes shut and clutching desperately at the drive shaft in an attempt to express herself physically rather than vocally. She can feel him moving tantalizingly close to her entrance, running the full length of himself between her thighs, only to withdraw from her at the last second like the bloody devil he was. His left hand releases the top two buttons of her blouse before slithering beneath it to cup one of her breasts, while the fingers of his right continue to penetrate her warmth methodically and without relent.

A moan breaks loose despite her best efforts when his thumb grazes her aching nub. “Darling,” she pants. “Please don’t draw this out like you always do. I’m going to ruin these leather seats if you don’t get on with it.”

Another grind of his hips; another wayward moan. “I can’t very well get on with it if you don’t show a little bit of restraint. Now, are you going to try and keep your voice down, or am I going to have to help you out with that?”

His lips are saying one thing, but his hand buried to the knuckles in her sex is speaking a different language entirely, and she’s forced to swallow yet another cry as he sustains the agonizing pressure on her nub. A wordless nod is all she can muster when she feels his teeth sink into the softest part of her neck, and her patience is finally rewarded when he shifts in his seat and positions her wetness directly over the head of his shaft.

The strategist may have been endlessly talented with his fingers, but it was his searing heat inside of her from which she had always derived her greatest pleasure; she would’ve held her breath if she’d had any left to speak of, but her lungs empty themselves entirely of their own accord when she lowers herself onto his cock. Her hand is clutching the drive shaft so hard now she is certain it’ll break off at any moment, and it’s only when he begins to thrust against her walls that the threads of her resolve finally snap and she is unable to contain herself any longer.

A gloved hand reaches up to stifle her rapture, but the quiet remark he whispers in her ear—There’s a good girl—serves only to fuel the inferno already raging in her belly. The flavor of leather mingles with the blood she can taste from biting the inside of her own cheek, and she exhales forcefully through her nostrils as his grip over her mouth tightens with each drive of his hips. His free hand wanders over her trembling form, tracing the curves of her abdomen, caressing her breasts, slipping beneath her open blouse to lightly pinch at her nipples; she releases the clutch and braces herself against his strong thighs, angling her pelvis toward him until he is meeting the full edge of her resistance.

It isn’t long, however, before his hand returns to her aching sex. Another, less competent lover might’ve mistakingly attempted to stimulate her arousal by massaging her nub with all the nuance and subtlety of a carpenter vigorously sandpapering a plank of unfinished wood; Ignis, on the other hand, is more purposeful in his approach, teasing his ring and pinky fingers delicately over her sensitive hood with a precision benefiting from his expertise with a set of daggers. Her response is immediate, her body practically begging to be ravaged, and she lets out a muffled cry into his glove as she digs her fingernails into his legs.

There was an artistry to his method, and had she been in a more coherent state of mind, she might’ve commended him for his ingenuity; his cock was the hammer to his palm’s anvil, his right hand strong enough to curb her writhing as he directs his thrusts against the spot just below her navel. She isn’t quite sure which source is activating the familiar pressure in her lower abdomen more—the fingers he his circling around her hood with growing intensity, or the rock hard shaft gliding in and out of her like a well-oiled machine—but it doesn’t matter now, because the tingling her spine is making her teeth gnash against his glove as she draws precariously close to her tipping point.

Her thoughts are as cloudy and muddled as the steam fogging up the windows, but there is clarity as well, and she can see the culmination of his steadfast efforts just on the horizon of her mind’s eye. She had long since given up on trying to silence herself—the hand pressed firmly across her mouth is doing a suitably appropriate job at quelling her moans—so she simply grinds against his hips with a uncontrolled fervor, tossing her head back against his shoulder as she reaches the cusp of her imminent release.

How he is able to remain so composed when her climax causes her to buck like an untamed chocobo across his thighs is entirely beyond her, but he holds fast nevertheless as she shudders violently through each wave of her orgasm. His fingers refuse to budge until he’s coaxed the last bit of trembling from deep within her walls, and he loosens his grip over her mouth only when he is certain she has uttered her last feeble whimper. Where seconds before she had felt like her insides might burst into a million points of light, her body suddenly feels as heavy as a boulder, and she collapses against his chest as she struggles to draw enough oxygen into her lungs.

For a long moment, the only noise that can be heard is the sound of her heart resuming a measured pace inside her ribcage. “I know what you’re going to say,” she murmurs after a time, lifting a hand to caress his cheek.

“Hm?”

“We’re not leaving it at that.”

He snorts softly. “It’s your birthday, not mine. Why should I reap the benefits?”

But the strategist isn’t the only one with a method, and when the redhead clenches her walls mischievously around him, she’s rewarded with an audible gasp. “Really, it’s fine,” he groans. “Noct is probably blowing up my phone as we speak.”

“Then you best hurry up.”

“I’ll only make a mess of things. It’ll cost a fortune to get the Regalia detailed on my own dime.”

But his protestations don’t quite meet his voice, and indeed his idle fingers are already drifting toward her breasts. “Not unless you plan on finishing all over the steering wheel,” she says, relishing in the sensation of her nipples hardening under his touch.

She then feels his warm breath on her neck, his mouth dragging over the soft skin there before stopping at her ear. “Are you sure about this?”

Actions speak louder than words, she surmises, so she covers his hands with her own and arches herself against his groin. The lips he is brushing against her ear are soon replaced with his teeth, and he nibbles gently at her earlobe as his grip tightens over her chest; he somehow feels even harder than before, his drives more deliberate, his heat more acute, and even through each of his disciplined thrusts, she can sense the shackles of his restraint beginning to waver.

His will is still marginally stronger than hers, however, because she doesn’t need to clap a palm across his mouth to silence him; he’s already muffling his own ardor by tilting her face toward him and fighting for dominance over her tongue. Her hands fall to his thighs once more and she spurs him onward, her movements timed perfectly to his in a way that had only been achieved through hours of intimate practice they’d shared together. His features are both intense and serene, his touch urgent yet tender, and the look behind his spectacled eyes tells her there is a lust inside of him that is struggling to be contained.

So she does what intuition dictates of her, which is not to curtail his passion, but to encourage his more carnal instincts, because the redhead knows the only time Ignis Scientia ever dares to let himself to lose control is when they are behind closed doors—vehicular or otherwise—with solely the Astrals and herself to bear witness to his human fallibilities. She spreads her legs as wide as the undergarment tangled around her knees will allow for and bears down against his searing heat, gripping his thighs hard and stifling the urge to cry out loud enough to alert the security guard stationed fifty yards to their left.

There always comes a point in their lovemaking, however, when her efforts become negligible compared to the autonomous energy that abruptly possesses him like a daemon, and it’s happening right now—he pins her shoulders to his chest while his hips move like pistons, his thrusts growing ever more erratic against her slick walls. His eyes are pressed shut and a light sheen of perspiration coats his forehead and cheeks; she can see his jaw flexing tightly as he grits his teeth, can hear him exhaling forcefully through his nose, can feel his erection strengthening through his final drives.

She then feels the base of his shaft pulse angrily against her sex, followed by a warm sensation spreading throughout her belly. His mouth parts slightly and his lips move, but barely a whisper escapes him; his silence is little indication of his true condition, she knows, because the way he is twitching on the seat beneath her speaks volumes. It’s only when he’s deposited every last ounce of his seed inside of her that his pelvis finally slows to a halt, and only then does he loosen his vice grip over her shoulders and draw her back against his torso.

There was something rather extraordinary about the body’s response to stimuli in the immediate aftermath of strenuous activity; little things the redhead would’ve never noticed before now seem incredibly obvious to her heightened senses. She can almost hear the strategist’s eyelids blinking behind his spectacles, for instance, and she suddenly becomes fixated on the droplets of moisture collecting at the corners of the Regalia’s foggy windshield. His heart beats like a drum between her shoulder blades, his labored breathing as soothing as white noise, and she wonders briefly if the sound of her exhales was as comforting to his own ears.

But the moment of peaceful silence doesn’t last—it never did, much to her everlasting disappointment—and soon he is reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a handkerchief. “Here,” he says quietly. “You’ll probably be needing this.”

She takes his offering and grips the steering wheel, slowly extricating herself from his lap as she maneuvers back across the divider to the passenger’s side of the vehicle. She takes care not to lower herself onto leather seat until she’s stopped the flow of fluid trickling down her thigh with the handkerchief; once she’s returned her panties to their rightful place, she buttons her shirt and collects her coat and purse.

He’s already standing outside the Regalia and slipping on the glove he’d abandoned prior when she steps out of the car, his dress shirt tucked back into his trousers and his belt buckle cinched to its proper setting. She might’ve resented his ability to immaculately disguise any evidence of impropriety—her own skirt was wrinkled beyond all help—had his consummate professionalism not been the very reason they’d been able to carry on their dalliance as long as they had; she gives one last futile tug on the hem of her skirt and tosses on her coat, then circles around the back of the vehicle before stopping beside him.

“I’m sorry for derailing your coffee run,” she says, watching with curiosity as he pops the trunk. “You’ll have to spin one hell of a lie if the prince sees you returning empty handed.”

“Never fear,” he replies. “I always have a backup plan, just in case.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, until she sees him withdrawing a familiar item from inside the compartment. “You had that hidden in the Regalia this whole time?”

He sets a six-pack of Ebony on the roof and locks up the car. “My secret stash. I don’t like getting into it if I don’t have to, but sacrifices sometimes have to be made.”

She tries not to let her amusement show, but her lips curve into a smile just the same. “I’ll remember that the next time I’m banished to the garage for hours on end.”

She then retrieves her umbrella from her purse and unfurls it; judging by the deluge of water sweeping past the parking structure’s exit ramp, the rain outside was coming down much harder than it had been when she’d arrived. But the strategist blocks her path before she can take her formal leave, withdrawing a twenty-credit bill from his wallet and pressing it into her hand.

“Paying me for my services now, are we?” she teases. “I didn’t realize we had that sort of an arrangement.”

He tosses her a tart glance, but the smirk tugging on the corners of his lips is unmissable. “For the cab fare. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold on account of me.”

It’s a small gesture, but it’s not lost on her; still, she’d be remiss if she allowed his kindness to go entirely unpunished. “You sure you can afford it? Those stains you left on the seat aren’t going to pay for themselves.”

He then hefts the cans of Ebony from the Regalia’s roof and feigns a sigh. “I’ll manage somehow.”

Her heart is somehow both brimming with affection and fractured beyond repair; she’ll never be wined and dined by the strategist at the infamous Maagho in Altissia, will never spend a holiday with him on the white beaches of Galdin Quay, will never be more than a glorified bed warmer as long as a king sat on the Lucian throne. But she has moments like this to remember him by, a few hours here, a stolen glance there, and it’s just enough to satisfy her soul until the next time they meet.

A mask of indifference settles in on her features—the one she learned from him—and she tips her umbrella in farewell as she moves away. Before she can make it a dozen paces, however, his voice echoes out against the concrete pillars. “Darling?”

She slows to a halt and turns toward him. “Yes?”

His face remains impassive as he approaches, except for the hint of softness behind his green eyes. “If I didn’t say it before, Happy Birthday.”

She offers him a wry grin as he stops beside her. “Not in as many words, but you made the sentiments clear enough. Although I must admit, I’m a bit sad about the cake.”

“I’ll bake you another one sometime, I promise. And I do hope our earlier grievances didn’t spoil the evening too much.” The softness in his eyes has spread to his lips now, and her face warms slightly when he leans down to brush them gently across her cheek. “If you ask me, I rather like our arrangement.”

[bethgreeneishopeunseen]

PRODUCTION RENTALS

I think I might have taken my stalking to a whole new level… LOL MEAN WHATEVER! I saw this photo of NR from the season 8 set, and I couldn’t resist looking at the background of this photo since it got my TD lurking tingling:

Source (X).

“PRODUCTION RENTALS (770) 963-1234” Well, look at that. Search for that phone number on the net and what-do-we-have-here? http://lightnin.com/ Lightnin is the company AMC has hired to provide the set with equipment. Trucks and generators, camera dept, make-up and wardrobes, honeywagons… Trailers…… And it just happens to be so that Lightnin have photos of ALL of the trailers they can provide a production with. We literally now have PHOTOS of ALL of the trailers. Not only how they look on the outside, but the INSIDE too. I think this might be important to save in case a certain someone posts something.

——————————————————————————————————–

Thank you for this information, anon! This is wonderful to know. 

(I found another, clearer shot of the trailer label.) (You can read more about cast trailers here, which includes relevant source links: X.)

I went through the different “star trailers” that the company offers, and you can see general similarities between the display models and the cast members’ trailers. There are differences though in design and some general features, probably due to when they’re rented/bought and what level of actor is using the trailer. The higher-paid actors, the main characters, would obviously have nicer accommodations. They would need such accommodations, due to the amount of time they spend in those trailers. The general feel and layout of the trailers for the cast are all the same, but different enough you can tell each one apart. For example, from what cast member pictures I’ve found, the cabinet handles are rounded while Emily’s are rectangular:

Is that a problem? No.The trailer company offers both handle shapes (X). Emily probably also received a new trailer starting in season 4 or 5, to coincide with her upgraded status and the eventual secretive filming.  Overall, I’m even more convinced that the trailer Emily took selfies in last year is her TWD one. 

She first caused stir when she posted twice from her trailer, during season 5 filming (X). The first picture was of her guitar, and she posted it the day Slabtown started filming. The second picture was the day Bethfoot was photographed, and she had removed her nail polish. Her lack of nail polish struck fans even then as she had been just filming the Rockstar music video that week and repainted her nails a few days after the Bethfoot fiasco.

Fans connected the locations as the polaroid picture had the same tiling as the guitar picture. The flooring is how I originally connected Emily’s two selfies the following year to the other pictures. The polaroid picture and her selfies both show a place with two types of flooring, one based in tile/laminate and wood. Reviewing the pictures, I couldn’t see the dark brown grout in the two selfies. That could be because of lighting/the filter, that part of the flooring being replaced due wear-and-tear, or a combination. But the three pictures still have the same wood flooring.

Emily posted the first selfie on October 26th, 2015, captioning it, “First day of school. But no calculus. 😁😜☺️”.

Now Love On the Sidelines was scheduled to film from October 26th to November 14th (X). It appears that the cast and crew stuck to this schedule for the most part, going by when the wrap party was held (X) (X) (X), and that’s not surprising. Love On the Sidelines is a Hallmark movie. Not much complexity in story or filming to worry over or intense scenes to rehearse with the actors. Emily posted a selfie on the 22nd, captioning it, “Good vibes today in Vancouver. 🎈💗” (X), and the actor of a minor character posted on the 25th about practicing his lines  (X). Emily’s nail color was different though, being a dark purple in the 22nd picture rather than a light pink. She also dropped off the radar between the 22nd and 23rd, posting only in relation to her music, something that her manager could do (X). Emily was likely filming for TWD. With that in mind, I don’t think this selfie was posted in current time. I think it’s a latergram, going by the nail polish. Emily is very good at latergramming - she must have multiple versions of pictures saved on her phone to make certain later grams. She also likes to experiment with social media techniques, such as the geo tagging this year. I think she posted a latergram of her in her trail, from earlier during season 6 or even in five, to test what she could get away with. She then used that specific caption, about the first day of school, in order to make it seem like she was starting Love On the Sidelines.

The following month, on November 12th, when TWD was filming its finale and some of it in the studio, Emily posted her second and last selfie in this particular trailer. She captioned it, “GOODMORNING #stillasleep #foureyes,” but later deleted the picture after people began to comment that it looked like Norman’s trailer.

Once she realized that the technique didn’t work, that it only added fuel to the fire, she stopped doing it. She even deleted this particular selfie. But by deleting the selfie, she only looked more suspicious as it shouldn’t matter if her LOtS trailer looked like Norman’s. Not unless she was still actually on the show. If she had a picture in her LOtS trailer, one that was clearly for LOtS, she could have posted it. But obviously if she did that, people would see that they weren’t the same trailers. As an aside, I want to mention that she referenced the early morning in that post. On the East Coast, it would have been about 7:30. While Emily’s timestamp says 4:22 AM, there is a way to change the timezone on your phone, changing the timestamp. And there’s no way that she would have been at her trailer for LOtS so early. The movie never had very early morning/late night shoots. It was a standard Hallmark rom-com.

With all of this in mind, today I found a picture of Sabrina Gennarino in her trailer. (I was doing research for a different meta I had in mind.) 

Source (X).

(Notice the physical similarities and differences, and how much smaller the space feels. Makes sense, since Tamiel isn’t a major character.)

Behind Sabrina hangs a few clothes, and the shirts are clearly Tamiel’s clothes, especially going the stains and the worn edges. A long time ago I read an article on what it’s like to be on a film set, and it mentioned that actors usually find their wardrobe hanging in their trailer (X). In Emily’s first selfie, I noticed that she had some clothes hanging up behind, and I wondered if they were one of Beth’s post-Coda outfits. I shelved the thought away, but Sabrina’s selfie brought it back as now I had concrete evidence that TWD handles its costumes the same way.

Look at the clothes. They aren’t chic and very feminine like Laurel’s outfits in Love On the Sidelines. Emily dressed fashionably and simply, playing a character who was passionate about fashion design but also living on a normal wage. These jeans though are dark and worn, reminiscent of the black, ripped jeans that Emily wore to the season six premiere. Emily has never been pictured wearing a white winter coat, and Laurel never dressed in wintery clothes. To be certain though that the wardrobe wasn’t for the Laurel character, I watched Love On the Sidelines, paying close attention to her outfits. Even while dressed casually, she wore new-looking clothes and she never wore dark, worn jeans. None of them also had a faded mark under the right pocket like this pair.

There is a black shirt of some kind hanging behind the jeans, and its fabric doesn’t match Laurel’s puffy dark cardigan and sleek business coats. The one thing that tripped me up was the shoes. I noticed Laurel wearing similar boots in the movie.

I followed a hunch though, and discovered that Emily owns a similar pair of boots, going all the way back to 2014 (X).

That trailer couldn’t have been for Emily’s Love On the Sidelines project. It’s her TWD trailer, and that’s why we haven’t seen it again, over a year later.

[thisdaynews]

Biden wages war on Hunter-Ukraine reporting

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/biden-wages-war-on-hunter-ukraine-reporting/

Biden wages war on Hunter-Ukraine reporting

Former Vice President Joe Biden. | Sean Rayford/Getty Images

2020 elections

‘You saw what happened to Hillary in 2016 with all of the ridiculous coverage about her emails. That’s not going to happen with us. We learned.’

Disparaging the press as Donald Trump’s “unwitting accomplice.” Shaming journalists for spending too much time on Twitter. Pointedly telling a reporter to “ask the right question.”

Joe Biden‘s presidential campaign is waging a media offensive to control the Ukraine narrative, a display of targeted force designed to head off a repeat of what the campaign refers to as “Hillary 2.0.”

Story Continued Below

Since Friday alone, Biden’s team has adopteda new in-your-face approach, includingrepeatedly singling outjournalists behind unfavorable coverage, tweeting out taunts that accuse reporters of carrying Trump’s water and rolling out a series of fact-checking memos.

It’s all designed to focus coverage squarely on allegations that Trump asked a foreign leader to investigate the Biden family — and away from the president’s attempts to highlight Biden’s son Hunter’s business activities in Ukraine. Biden himself has taken on a more confrontational tone in addressing the subject, including in a fiery, finger-pointing exchange with a Fox News reporter caught on camera.

Kate Bedingfield, Biden’s communications director,tweeted the clipand, repeating her boss’ demand in the exchange, wrote: “ASK. THE. RIGHT. QUESTION.”

Bedingfield acknowledged Monday that the fierce pushbackwas in part aimed at preventinga reprisal of the 2016 presidential campaign, where questions over Hillary Clinton’s emails cannibalized her campaign.

“We are going to call out Trump’s sleazy, disingenuous playbook for what it is,” Bedingfield said. “He makes the press an unwitting accomplice in spreading his lies when they don’t keep their focus on egregious abuses of power. The smears he’s trying to spread have been universally debunked and are only true in some MAGA-land alternate universe.”

Another Biden adviser was more pointed: “You saw what happened to Hillary in 2016 with all of the ridiculous coverage about her emails. That’s not going to happen with us. We learned.”

Among the learned lessons: Remain on the attack against all sides. The campaign has demanded thatTrump release a transcript of his calls with the Ukrainian president and accused him of the “greatest presidential malfeasance since Watergate.” They’ve also specifically warned that reporters were misleading their audiences unless they “demonstrably state at the outset that there is no factual basis for Trump’s claims.”

The campaign also produced avideo newsreelthat pointedly criticized recent coverage and asked whether reporters would “fall for it again,” in a reference to 2016.

Far from a defensive crouch, the campaign is attempting to capitalize on the moment by rallying the party around what they characterize as a standard Trump dirty trick. One aspect of their approach is raising money off the controversy. Since news of Trump’s call broke on Friday, the campaign has sent out half a dozen fundraising emails pointing to Trump’s attempts to “smear” the former vice president. And the campaign has tripled its per day average in online fundraising, according to a Biden aide.

According to interviews with five Biden advisers, the message is simple and straightforward: Trump asked a foreign government to meddle in the 2016 election, and he’s doing it again.

Biden’s angry exchange Saturday with a Fox reporter who asked about his son instead of about the propriety of Trump’s alleged call with Ukraine gave the candidate a lift because it established him as a fighter, a former adviser to President Obama, Ben LaBolt, said.

“It’s great primary politics — especially when voices on the left accused Biden of being too cautious or centrist in his views — to challenge FOX. It demonstrated Biden’s strength,” LaBolt said. “The campaign has not had a lot of viral clips. And this is one that will be seen by primary voters. You couldn’t script it better.”

The confrontational tone marks a tactical shift for the Biden campaign, which doesn’t exactly have warm relations with the press but isn’t recognized as an especially combative operation.

In one instance,the Biden campaign in a memo swiped at a columnist for The Hill by name, lumping his stories together with Sputnik News, a Kremlin-supported news agency.But the top target of Biden campaign criticism was theNew YorkTimes’ Ken Vogel, who in May, with Iuliia Mendel,reportedhow Trump and his allies were promoting “conflict of interest questions” against Biden.

Mendel became the spokesperson for new Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, weeks after the controversial May story was published.

Jennifer Palmieri, who served as communications director for Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign, said the only way to beat Trump is to forcefully call out the press for repeating unsubstantiated allegations.

“The reality is when you’re running against Donald Trump it’s dangerous to not engage when you’re attacked in this way,” Palmieri said. “This is how [Trump] wins. He gets enough people to believe a lie and tries to wear down the opposition by weaving the lie into the coverage.

“You have to fight back. Just because the press doesn’t have a political axe to grind doesn’t mean they get everything right or portray them fairly,” she said.

There’s no better example of that than the campaign’s aggressive approach against Vogel, who has become the public face for the Times’s coverage. Vogel said Friday on MSNBC that the Ukraine story is “a significant liability” for Biden, remarks thatsome criticizedas echoing the Times’s treatment of Clinton. Trump thenapprovingly tweeteda video featuring Vogel’s comments early Saturday morning. [Vogel covered the 2016 election for POLITICO.]

In response, in a campaign-produced video with the subhead, “Trump’s sleazy playbook,” the commentator declares “What Ken Vogel said is false,” and also criticizes POLITICO’s coverage.

Other Biden and former Clinton staffers joined the pile-on. One Biden staffer commented “brutal” before quoting a New York Magazine piece critical of Vogel. And the campaign’s fact-checking memos were riddled with citations aimed at debunking his coverage.

Longtime Clinton aide Philippe ReinesreferencedVogel when tweeting that Clinton was “the target in 2016” while Biden “is the 2019 target.”

“It just feels like a replay,” Reinessaid in an interview. “Everyone can make fun of crazy Rudy [Giuliani, the president’s lawyer] all they want, but it was mission accomplished. It’s the false equivalence. You can’t say the words ‘Trump’ and ‘Ukraine’ without seeing ‘Biden’ and ‘Ukraine.’ The only reason the word ‘Biden’ should appear is to say [Trump] was soliciting dirt on Biden.”

Vogel did not respond to requests for comment and the Times did not make any editor available to discuss the handling of the Biden-Ukraine story.

“Our only approach to covering all aspects of the Ukraine story is that we’ll do it aggressively,” a Times spokesperson told POLITICO.

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[drink-n-watch]

Kriegspiel (‘War game’) is an unorthodox chess game in which the players only know for certain the moves of their own pieces. They have to deduce where the opponent’s pieces are by questioning an umpire. It is played on three boards with partitions between them. – via Wikipedia

You know, Crow was a bit nervous about reviewing this show, I think I strong armed him into it. I felt a little guilty at first but man am I glad now. I am loving this show and in no small part because I get to have these wonderful conversations around it. Your comments have also been fascinating and insightful. Please keep them coming. I can’t get enough of these talks.

Strong-armed? Hardly! You said you would like to review it — very politely, I might add! — so I watched the first episode — and to keep a theme going, I’m glad I did! And you’re absolutely right about the comments! Thought-provoking and imaginative stuff!

Oh, and by the way, my turn to be bold! At least in print! (That was Crow)

That’s quite a start

So remember last week when I said the arrival of Sister Krone could prove to be a disruptive presence for both sides!!!

Criminey, you weren’t kidding!

First though, let’s talk about that tiny bomb shell we got a the beginning. Every episode of The Promised Neverland packs so much in that it’s easy to forget the details, but one of the biggest things that stood out to me came from Ray, Norma and Emma’s conversation in the opening act, when they were still speculating on the transmitters. Apparently, it’s 2015!

that font is so not 2015

Obviously this is an alternate world but it places us in a grey zone. The technology we’ve seen so far in their daily lives is certainly not quite up to 2015 standards, but the teaching rooms seemed to be overly advanced. The demons may have some form of very advanced technology not available to the children but we haven’t seen it yet and the frequent use of nature (especially flower) motifs makes the seem more mystical than technical.

I’m not entirely sure why, but having the story clearly situated in time like that, felt important somehow.

Maybe an alternate timeline. But honestly, I’m not 100% convinced this is Earth — as in Sol III. It looks the same, but we’ve only seen a small part of it.

I’m not either which means we don’t know the rules governing what’s “human” which  opens lot of doors!

brilliant!

At this point we also had a little speculation on the world beyond the farm. The kids discuss the fact that they must not be the only facility and that livestock comes from somewhere. The idea that demons probably rule the world. The kids seem to have pretty much the same line of thinking as we did. Except they have more pressing questions and trying to guess what’s out there isn’t very productive right now!

I’m still amazed at how clear-thinking they are! No unreasonable leaps of logic; just applied thinking based on their observations and thoughts.

These kids keep their eyes on the ball, then again, they’ve never known any other world. Emma, Norman and Ray, having figured out last episode that there had to be some type of tracking device on them are now busy trying to figure out where it is, while we get to know the newly arrived Sister Krone.

why not redraw the missing pupil? it would be so easy…jus for extra creepy?

I must say, with this much story and background to unpack, I don’t blame the show for resorting to Ray, Normand or Emma explaining the situation to each other (and by extension us) , but I couldn’t help but snicker a bit at Krone’s schizophrenic exposition. It was fun but just a little clumsy.

Did you like how she was portrayed? She almost seemed like a caricature, though her interactions with Momma (Isabella) were fascinating. And when she ran, she reminded me a lot of the T-1000 Terminator model from Terminator 2 Judgement Day!

I have to say, I quite like the notion of an addled, almost pathetic yet still threatening and entirely terrifying antagonist. Movies way too often play up particularly cruel villains as brilliant masterminds but I’ve always found that an opposite characterisation was very effective, and interesting. Someone who is just not bright or sane enough to tempt or coerce. Someone you can’t reason with….

Someone who’s bound to do anything…When I was really small, we had this electronic chess board you could play on. It had difficulty settings up to 10 (hardest). When you set it to 10 it would beat you instantly, unless you didn’t know how to play chess. You see, nonsense moves confused its algorithm. It would start taking forever, trying to figure out what your strategy was, while you were happily licking all the chess pieces or something. Once you get too smart, it starts to be very difficult to understand stupid, or senseless. Krone may prove to be a challenge… for everyone.

Meaning maybe Isabella won’t take her seriously as a threat — until it’s too late? This show has way too many ways to keep us off guard!

there are no cameras, no need to look for them

Of course she immediately decided to betray Mama, which I predicted cause I’m totally psychic and no other reason whatsoever. Say Crow, any thoughts on the judgement call behind deciding to loudly sing your treason plans in a crowded house with only a thin wooden door to block the sound?

That’s what I always do when I decide to betray someone! Seriously, I had to wonder at her sanity. Why would she possibly do that? Was the show just being funny? Or was it telling us something about her — namely, that she’s not entirely rational?

This said, even with her very limited presence this episode, I still find Moma to be the most chilling presence on screen. I also suspect that Moma let Krone know about the *older* children who had discovered the secret, for a specific reason. She doesn’t strike me as a woman who trusts readily or speaks carelessly. (I do both!)

I think your observation is spot on. There’re reasons Moma’s where she is, and one of them is that she’s astute. I think your title for this post is perfect. It’s Moma on one side of the board and Emma, Norman, and Ray on the other. Krone doesn’t know it, but she’s just one of Moma’s pieces.

terrifying I say

Speaking of deceptively smart, even though the series has so far established Ray and Norman as the masterminds of the series, with Emma seemingly playing the role of the enforcer, it was Emma who came up with the brilliant insight that the newly arrived baby might still have a scar from the tracing device incision. And when ging to check for herself, she also came up with the brilliant line of reasoning that the demons would probably not want to eat the implanted tracking device so it would have to be somewhere “easy to remove”…. Turns out, it’s the ear! That’s where we tag cattle – makes sense.

Remember I talked about feedlots? Yeah, we tagged the calves’ ears. The newer tags nowadays even have microchips in them. This is all terrifyingly familiar!

We are slowly seeing themes of human connection. The baby’s fingers coiling around Emma’s, creating that visceral instinct to protect our most vulnerable. It reminds us on this base level of the idea that we are all human and in this together. I assume this blatant set up is to only make those upcoming hard decisions even more devastating!

I’m having flashbacks to Made in Abyss… Which is to say, I think that’s exactly what they’re doing. And we’ll see those hard decisions through Emma’s eyes!

I desperately want t see that. I should get whatever platform i’s on…

they look a little alike

After having found the tracking device, or at least a likely place for it, it was time to turn to the practical question of escaping with everyone. Ray very appropriately pointed out that the smaller kids would have a hard time keeping up in their current state. Thankfully, it seems that hide and seek is already the main form of entertainment there, so this comes in handy for practicing kills like running away and, well hiding…

A game with Norman as the seeker serves as an excuse for Ray and Emma, serving as teachers, to show the kids some tricks. I quite liked this scene. It had all the ominous implications but because most of the kids think this is a simple game it was presented as joyful and sunny and relaxing. The contradiction was interesting to take in.

Very effective, dramatically. I felt like it also made the upcoming decisions that you already referenced feel even more dreadful. Those kids playing so happily will soon be running for a much different reason. With a much different consequence for being found.

well maybe not completely unaware

Speaking of blissfully unaware. More than once, the episode went out of it’s way to point out how beloved the caretakers are and how happy the children. Ray and Norman are eve gearing up for the possible necessity of lying to everyone because there’s a strong chance they would simply refuse to believe the truth and get them all killed. Once again, we’re being confronted with the limitations of Emma’s mercy.

It’s a great moral dilemma. Is it permissible to lie to save someone? And if you do, how far can you take the lie? Because once the kids found out they’ve been lied to, there’s no telling how they’ll react!

Krone had been eyeing all the older kids ever since Moma told her someone had discovered the truth. By not reporting it immediately, it seems Moma as broken the rules. Krone figures that if she can figure out the culprits and turn them over herself, she could usurp Moma’s role and become the new Moma.

Seeing the children play, Krone sees her own chance to do some recon and evaluate the children’s skills at the same time.

At this point, the game got a lot more menacing. How did you feel about it Crow?

run!

Oh, yeah! All those subtly menacing feelings we got while the kids were playing tag alone got bumped up a couple notices. Remember when she gathered up several kids at once and picked them up? I thought that was terrifying!

Having Krone discover a cowering Emma hiding two small children was pretty chilling, but not quite as much as Norman looking down from that boulder as Ray snuck up on Krone to win the game… See what I mean about Norman, gotta watch out for that kid.

He and Ray make a dangerous combination. I just hope they’re dangerous enough! And by winning, I wonder if they just made Krone more resolute? Or do you suppose that’s Moma’s plan — to make Krone and the kids focus on each other and leave her more free to operate?

how do they keep their clothes so white?

So test run no. 1 went a bit better than expect with Norman and Ray coming out on top. Still, depressingly predictable, Emma’s insistence on trying to save two small children, so they were all caught. Let’s hope it’s not foreshadowing…but it totally is. (I don’t know, this is as far as I got in the story)

It sure felt like foreshadowing! But if it was for a terrible decision Emma will have to make, or if it’s showing Emma preparing the kids to control even their breathing, only time will tell!

Man, I hope they can get themselves out of this mess!

oh man…this is so cool!

The episode ended on yet another bombshell and I must say I adore this one. After the game, Krone decided to back off, while Moma had completely disregarded Norman, Ray and Emma despite her obvious suspicions. The three soon come to the conclusion that the adults aren’t bothering with them because someone else must be keeping tabs and reporting back. But there’s only one option left, that someone else must be one of the kids.

This mic drop moment was spectacular. It completely changes the dynamics and interaction of the narrative. And since we the audience don’t have any extra information, we get to share in the kids’ paranoia! This was perfect!

If Emma’s hopes to get everyone out before looked unrealistic, now they look self-defeating. Because if they try to take everyone, and if “everyone” includes the snitch, then, to quote Han Solo, “This is going to be a real short trip!”

They’ve built a lot of suspense in three episodes, don’t you think?

I can’t believe this is episode 3. It could have been a built up season. Yet – it doesn’t feel rushed. Magic I say!

I may have said this before but: terrifying!

I just got over my Tsurune screencap disease and now The Promise Neverland is trying to drag me right back into it!

  The Promised Neverland Episode 3 –Kriegspiel Kriegspiel ('War game') is an unorthodox chess game in which the players only know for certain the moves of their own pieces.