#but this- the delivery of lines and the conviction of character

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 6, episode 608

Hello, everyone!

Finally I have some time to write this! You can not imagine how demanding is to work making television shows, everything is for yesterday, haha!

Complains about work aside, it is time to talk about my last episode of season 6, episode 8. This one was... special.

I can say without a doubt that this was one of the most emotional episodes I have ever worked on. I cried every time I watched the animatic, and I cried again watching the final episode a few days ago.

I think is a lot of things together: a lot of important things happens, characters die, Katolis is destroyed, one of the quasars is fake! Aaravos!!! ... but also because I witnessed my team bring together their A game, telling this story in such a beautiful way.

I learned a lot from this episode, specially from my Unit Director, Mike Jones, who was in charge of boarding the "Hearts of Cinder" spell sequence; what a masterclass of emotion, storytelling and cinematography! I love Jason Simpson's performance during the show, but in particular in that sequence, and I think the boards took everything to a new level.

Now, let's go back to my sequences.

My first one was Soren going down to Viren to ask him to perform the spell. It was good to have this last interaction between both of them after all the work I did with the characters in 605.

There is a lot of subtle staging in this one. The way the light is hitting over their heads, how present in the screen the staff is; Viren's hesitance is something that I remember was important for me to portrait properly.

One of the things we talked a lot during this sequence was in how to use the light as narrative element. I was not interested in the classical reading of going into the light as "good" and shadows as "bad".

But light as hope, options, forgiveness, etc.

Viren walks away from the light when he gets offered the staff not because he is going "bad" but because he doesn't feel capable to do what he is being asked to do.

Soren is coming directly to him, removing his chains, giving him back his staff, asking him for help. But Viren hesitates.

And I think that that was a genius think for the script to call. Viren is not a man looking for the first chance to "redeem" himself. I am not even sure that he believes that he deserves that possibility.

But they are running out of time. The situation is dire, and as the light get blocked by the falling debris, the options are becoming clearer. Hope is dim, but there is something to do: Hearts of Cinder.

Viren, still full of doubts, explains to Soren why the spell is so hard to perform: the price is a human heart. A price that the Viren of the past would have pay with not second thought, but not the current one, no the one who understands the weight of dark magic.

But Soren has no doubts: "Take mine" I still have chills listening to the delivery of that line. And I think here is the moment Viren decided to sacrifice himself. While he is being consumed by doubt and fear, his son will is clear, Soren will do the right thing, even if that cost him his life.

And that is what Viren never had before. The willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good. He looked at his reflection in Soren's golden heart and saw and answer, saw love, hope.

I just think is beautiful that Soren's conviction gave him the chance to do the right thing for once. Soren taught him the ultimate lesson.

I love this two so much.

My next sequence is a simple one, Terry and Claudia arriving to Katolis. I liked to draw Claudia's new hair. I wish I had more sequences with her in this season.

After this is Moon nexus time!

After all the drama with Viren and Soren the massage sequences felt a little silly, hahaha. but was fun to make.

I added the little detail of Rayla having issues landing, while Callum is just so good at it, haha. Fun to have their roles reversed for one, and Rayla being the clumsy one.

I like the moment when Lujanne ask them if they are a couple again and they exchange this nice look. I know that Rayllum is a huge thing in the fandom, and while they are not my type of ship (I am into the sapphics, you know) I think that they are pretty cute together, and Is always fun to make moments between them.

I just wanted to share with you this silly face, lol. Sometimes you draw things in boards that don't translate that well into the final show, but It is fun anyway, you want to inspire the animators to push the performance as much as they can.

Back to serious business. I love the shift when our heroes realized that there is only 2 quasars and 3 coins. Callums turn into Raylla knowing that this will destroy her. I really enjoy how the use of the lens to blur Lujanne in the Background creates this efect of hyperfocus on Callum and Rayla.

She is facing a terrible decision, who to save. So we move the camera to focus only on them. Is an intimate moment.

I like this framing, Rayla is in pain, crying, Callum is listening, but by the framing we can se that he is holding her. Callum is there for her, always.

And that is how I finished my last sequences of season 6, with Rayla crying.

Working on this season was one of the honors of my life. And I can wait to share with you how was making season 7, because was... A LOT, for sure! hahahaha.

Hope you like this! And feel free to ask if you have questions about the storyboard process!

And thanks for all the notes, comments and support! It is truly appreciated!

A little bonus:

Look a the cool crew jacket that Bardel gave us when we wrapped seasons 4 to 7! (Finally I can show it without making it an spoiler of the name of season 7!!)

[syoddeye]

the warren, ten - curious

price x f!reader | 3k words | series page | ao3 tags: mine/underground, gaslighting, minor injury, dual pov a/n: john takes you on a trip.🔪

"There she is. Mind locking it behind you, darl? We're closing early."

John doesn't look up from the register drawer. The bills of cash look like monopoly money in his hands. He licks the tip of his thumb and sorts through the stack, the creases in his brow cutting deep. When he's done, he tucks the tender into a scuffed leather envelope.

Embarrassment warms your face as you realize you've never handled this part of the job before. Not even when you've closed alongside him. He must always take care of it, or leave it undone until later. It stings a little. Peels up a sticking corner of your faith. He must not trust you to manage the till. You bite back a comment, shelving it for later. You have enough on your mind, thoughts teetering precariously like a cup filled to the brim, held in only by surface tension.

"Heard you went on an adventure today."

"I did."

"Gotta tell you, love, hate that you didn't ask for a ride," He sets the envelope down and slots the register back into place. He fixes you with a heavy stare, chin tucking toward his chest. "And that you went on foot."

"It's not that far. I've walked further, in the desert." You smile, trying to ease his mood, and remind him you aren't as helpless as he may believe.

But it doesn't work. If anything, your nonchalance hardens him further. 

"Yeah? Are there bears in the desert? Cougars?"

It's strange. No, not strange. This is not out of character. John's been like this since you met. Set in his ways, immovable in his convictions, the master of his domain. However he thinks things should go, how the world should spin, it's only a hair beneath the natural laws themselves. Still, you thought you moved beyond that with him and fell outside his mantle of authority. The slight condescension in his tone and body language? It needles you. Your hackles rise. It makes you think of your dad. Of Dusty. 

"There are cougars, actually. Coyotes, too. Snakes, bighorns…" You fold your arms. "Even met a surly jackrabbit, once."

John stares hard, thumb picking at a sliver of laminate peeling loose. The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring. When he finally speaks, his face softens, tired lines overtaking the sharp ones. Worry seeps through the cracks like water through stone. "That so? Well. If you've taken on the desert before…"

He pushes off the counter then steps around and into the gap. The offer is clear, and you meet him halfway, pressing a kiss to his lips. It's a quiet thing, your apology tucked between tongues. When you part, you rest your head on his chest. His hand glides up your spine.

"Sorry to make you worry."

"S'alright. Stopped worrying when Soap texted that he ran into you outside the library. Bookworm couldn't wait for her next read, eh?"

That sneak. Soap must've texted when you were distracted on the drive.

Your eyes fall to the tortoiseshell button on John's shirt, rising and falling with his breathing. A loose thread sticks out from it. You relate to it.

"Yes and no," you say, lifting your head. "I woke up curious." You lick your lips, thinking about what you'd told Soap in the truck. How he reacted when you said you might get to know everyone better, should you winter in the Panhandle. "If I'm going to stay here, I want to learn more about the area."

"S'pose the library's the place to learn. Though, you could've asked me, too."

All roads lead back to John, and you'd taken the turn willingly the moment you got on your knees for him. The moment you fell into his bed.

"You were busy."

"You couldn't wait?" He echoes and it purses your lip. 

Your hackles stir again. Your fraying nerves are to blame, not him. You'll feel better once you let it out.

"Are you busy now?"

"Need to make some deliveries. Ride with me."

Another truck, another conversation about madness. You help load the bed with odds and ends. John's occupation as shop owner and local Renaissance man keeps him busy. He points out a lamp he rewired. Hand tools he sharpened. A bicycle, sporting a new chain and front tire.

The comfortable rhythm between you returns, but you feel his thumb at the edges of you. Prying like he did with that bit of laminate on the counter, trying to ease you open. He wants to know what compelled you to walk the miles to Ponderosa, to sit in the library all day.

He knows you well enough to give you space, to make you feel safe before asking. That's one of the reasons you think you might love him.

John drives, you talk. You tell him everything, skipping over Phil's ominous text and the hold waiting under your name. The hold becomes a random book plucked off a library shelf and how its defacement spurred a morbid fascination with the collapse that swallowed nearly a hundred men.

The lie slips out smoother than you'd like. You hate that it's easier now, that you can meet his eyes as you reshape the truth. He doesn't twitch or look over suspiciously. He just listens. It makes it easier to tell yourself that omission and white lies—they're not deceit, not really.

But when you get to the part about your discovery, you waver. You stumble over your words, starting and stopping like burrs catching and pulling at the fabric of your story.

John glances at you then, quick but pointed. You tugged a thread and he felt the give.

Your explanation is shoddier the second time around. 

"...and he looked exactly like Alex. I swear." 

John doesn't respond immediately. He pulls the truck off to the side of the road, stopping in front of a mailbox at the end of a long drive. Without a word, he turns the engine off, climbs out, and heads to the back.

You hear the faint click of the bicycle wheel as it spins, the dull thunk as he pulls it free. Watching through the side mirror, you see him push it to the mailbox and prop it there. He stands beside it for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, shoulders slumped.

When he turns back and catches you staring, he gives you a small, uncertain smile, sheepish and laced with pity. You drop your gaze to your shoes.

He thinks you're crazy, too. Perfect.

You're a quarter mile down the road when he finally speaks.

"That's quite the claim."

"I know. I know how it sounds. But John, if you saw him, you'd think the same thing. It's uncanny." You sigh. Every word is a shovelful of dirt. "Soap suggested it was his grandfather or something. Do you know if Alex has roots here?"

"Well, we all have roots here," He smiles a little and reaches over, brushing a hand over your knee. "But if I remember correctly, I believe his family's been here a couple decades."

You nod. That is a comfort. It should be a comfort. It's not that you don't believe John. It's more so you want proof and know you're not sure you want to ask the man in question. Did your grandfather nearly die in a mine collapse?

Frustrated, you lay a hand over John's, tracing the cracks in his knuckles.

"That disappoint you?"

You shrug. "I guess I wanted a mystery."

He chuckles. "Like one of your books, no doubt."

"I suppose so." Though the unease lingers, stitched tight to your stomach lining and unwilling to unwind, you manage to smile. "I heard there's a memorial."

"There is. It's not for—"

"Tourists. Yeah, I know." His lip twitches, and you rush an apology into the gap. "Sorry for interrupting. It's just—who knows. I might not be a tourist in a few weeks. I want to know this place and the people."

That lands differently and with intent. It instantly smooths over your poor manners. His fingers stretch, drumming thoughtfully on the inside of your knee.

"We can visit, if you'd like. You'll see why they don't put in the brochures."

Your eyes widen, surprised he's indulging your curiosity.

"I'd love to. When should we go?"

The truck jerks as he brakes on a patch of gravel, a small spray of rocks pinging against the undercarriage. Dust blooms behind you like smoke.

He grins, a glint of something wild in his eyes. It's conspiratorial like the two of you are teenagers sneaking off to do something you shouldn't.

"Still light out, isn't it?"

~~

The Sawtooth Crest Mine doesn't feel so different from the ghost towns scattered across the Great Basin. A handful of sagging structures, burnt or crushed into rubble by weather and time. Others lean precariously on the verge of collapse.

You pass signs designating offices and a warehouse, bunkhouses, and a rec hall. You scan the empty windows and doorways as if you'll find answers or at least a hint.

The woods creep in, decades of reclamation around you.

After all the effort to get here, the memorial feels like a joke. A slab of stone with a tarnished plaque bolted onto the front. The text is largely illegible, worn down, and that's what's left. It looks like someone took a pickaxe to the rest of it.

You step closer, brushing your fingers over the pitted stone. John stands back, letting you have the moment. It feels intrusive, like standing at a stranger's grave. You suppose you are, in a way. Some bodies are reported unrecoverable.

The thought makes the back of your neck itch.

John waits until you're done, then gestures toward the mine itself. The main entrance gapes wide, its opening barred with iron rods and sheet metal, wired tight like a broken jaw. While you stare through the gaps, imagining further in, John steps to the side, casually working the padlock on the access door. A click, the chain slithers to the ground in a pile, and the door swings open.

"What are you—Isn't it dangerous?"

"Been here loads of times," he grins. "Drinking with the lads, mucking around. C'mon, we won't go far."

The grin isn't much comfort, but when he beckons, you follow. He leads you into the yawning dark, pulling out an emergency light clipped to his keys, throwing a small pool of light that splashes over your feet and up the closest section of wall. You stick close, your shoulder brushing his arm as the daylight behind you fades.

As you walk along, he talks. He points out the skeletal remains of machinery, rusted carts, and tools that have sat untouched for decades. The damp air thickens with the smell of soil and rust. You reach a junction where two tunnels branch off from a central chamber, a lift cage sitting in the middle, waiting.

John points to it, voice bouncing off the walls as he explains how it worked, how the whole system of pulleys and tracks kept the mine running. About the hoist operators, and how they were 'jokingly' referred to as Saint Peter. 

It's leagues more than Dusty ever shared, more than you ever overheard at the company picnics where he kept you in the dark as his smiling but simple wife. The irony isn't lost on you—standing here now, in the dark, learning more about your husband's trade from another man than you had in years.

"How do you know so much?"

John shrugs, his proud smile cast in shadow. "Talking to old-timers at The Fox Hole. They've got stories for days, especially after a few pints." His hand worries the cable like he's feeling for a pulse. "Nikolai's worse than me. The know-it-all." Then, he steps closer, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you to him. He presses a brief kiss to your forehead.

"Hate to be crass, but I've got to take a leak. Got your phone?"

You fumble it out of your pocket, holding it up. The model is too old for a flashlight, but you turn the brightness up as far as it'll go and point it at the ground.

"Good," He sounds far too at home as if you're not both standing in the belly of a dead mine. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

He glances between the tunnels, making his choice, before he starts down the left passage.

You watch the dark swallow him whole.

"Don't go too far."

There's an answer, but it's more sound than speech and further away than it should be. 

And then his footsteps recede.

The glow of your phone barely lights your shoes. You shift your weight, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the low simmer of unease in your stomach from boiling over into something embarrassing. The flesh clenched between your teeth heats anyway.

John isn't far. He's just around the corner. If you walk down that tunnel, you'll see.

Your feet move, body ahead of your brain, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up.

Then you catch it—nostrils flaring. Wet dog, mixed with straw. Brimstone and iron. Your shoulders tighten, a shiver running down your arms, goosebumps raising. Folding them across your chest, phone pointed out, you continue, taking tiny half-steps. Shuffling.

The tunnel warms as you go. The walls sweat. Silver flecks reflect the dim light like the creature's eyes you saw out your window.

"John?" You mean to call out, though it shakes out in a whisper. It's like trying to scream in a nightmare, stuck under the thick ice of sleep. You try again. "John?" No better.

Behind you, a metallic creak cuts through the silence. You freeze. Then your feet find full strides, the shuffle turning into a hurried walk. Pebbles slide underfoot, and you glance down, stopping short when you see it—a sandy tuft of hair, coarse and matted, lying just beside your foot.

The phone light trembles as you crouch, about to pluck the tuft from the ground.

And then another noise.

A low, guttural rumble rolls through the tunnel. You snap upright, spinning toward the direction you came from, holding your phone out as if it's an actual torch. The light catches nothing, and the growl comes again. Deeper. Closer.

You run.

The light swings wildly as you stumble forward, colliding hard with a set of support beams. They groan and slightly give at the impact, a thick cloud of dust erupting straight into your face. You cough and spin, lunging down the left passage when the tunnel splits again, painfully aware of how hopelessly lost you're becoming.

Something brushes your elbow, and every nerve in your body sounds the alarm. You jerk forward instinctively, your feet sliding on loose gravel. The ground shifts, and suddenly, you're falling, the cold floor of the mine rushing up to meet you in a bone-rattling thud.

~~

You wake to a hand stroking your head. Your cheek rests on denim, rough but warm beneath you, and the rumble of an engine. You realize you're horizontal, stretched across the front seat of John's truck, your head resting on his thigh. The road bumps and jars you as the truck barrels forward.

"John?" Your voice cracks on his name.

The hand on your head pauses, then resumes, gentler. You tilt your head, blinking spots from your vision, and catch his worried glances. His face is tight, his jaw set. "You're alright. Took a spill, I think. Found you halfway down a tunnel in a heap."

You push upright despite his protests, wincing at the pull in your muscles. Your hand drifts to your forehead, where it throbs, and you flinch at a smear of sticky, drying blood. "What…?"

"Just a scrape. I checked it. Must've clocked yourself on the way down."

The truck jolts over a bump, and you steady against the door, staring at the trees blurring past. The sun is dipping low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and violet as John speeds down the logging road. How long were you out?

"Thought I told you to stay put," John chides softly, a nervous smile twitching his lip. "What were you doing?"

The memory floods back. The growl. The chase. Something touched you.

You stare straight ahead, fingers feeling nothing when you check your elbow.

Sometimes our minds play tricks.

"I…I don't know." You force a shrug, licking your lips. "I don't know."

~~ 

John sees to your forehead. He dabs at the wound with a damp cloth, then spreads a layer of antibiotic over it with the tip of his finger. Twice, he asks if you're up to date on your tetanus shot, and twice, you confirm you are. 

When he smooths the bandage on, his thumbs press it into place. He gently kisses it, then tilts your chin and kisses your lips the same way.

"Skittish thing," he teases, though his eyes carry a tinge of regret. "Shouldn't have left you alone."

Before you can respond, he's kissing you again, deeper, his hands sliding down to steady you atop his kitchen table like you might slip away.

You don't slip at all. You end up underneath him.

~~~~

While his girl sleeps off the consequences of her walk, his lesson leaking out of her, John summons his Watcher.

Kate is a good woman. Useful. Steady under pressure, keen as her old man, maybe more. She shoulders the responsibility and knows better than to complain. Her father wore his duty like a crown and bore it as a source of pride. Kate treats it as a job. One she always gets done.

But she pushes it.

"Why the fed, John?" she flicks ash from her cigarette. "He was bound to give up and leave."

John picks his teeth. "Didn't like the way he looked at her."

Kate narrows her eyes, dragging smoke into her lungs. "Looking at a pretty woman isn't a crime. There'd be plenty more carcasses if it was." She exhales sharply. "You broke the conditions of the pact."

"The conditions," he sneers, "state I can harvest the unfortunates and ne'er-do-wells. Vagrants. Show me an agent of the state with clean hands, and I'll cough Mr. Graves up right now."

Her lip curls at that, distaste evident. "A technicality, then. Still don't like it. All it got you was one meal, and it invited attention."

He ignores her insubordination. "You got information on the second course?"

"Kyle Garrick. Sent to investigate Graves's disappearance…" Kate reads, stubbing her cigarette on the edge of the counter. "And to look into other disappearances in the area." 

John takes the picture Kate offers and stares at the younger man, oblivious to his new headshot. "He's looking for me, I presume?"

"Naturally, but…"

"But what?"

"He's looking for her, too."

Smoke curls between them. This fed business—it's irritating, inevitable. They've done this song and dance before. No matter the reason, the thought of some young buck sniffing around his doe sets his teeth on edge.

"Let's orchestrate a meeting then," John finally says, peeling the loose strip of laminate off in one smooth go. "Use this curious streak of hers to our advantage."

[cursedcola]

DAV: Spoilers for Final Act! Don’t read if you haven’t finished the game!

I know it goes without saying that all companions are concerned when Rook is pulled into Solas’ prison. Some held more confidence in their escape than others (Example: Davrin’s final cutscene is very….well, 100% Davrin. He walks in as if Rook hasn’t just been missing and possibly dead. He bleeds confidence, because in his mind Rook is here. That’s what matters. It’s in his character to live in the present and now is daring for a future, the past cannot linger. They’d just discussed the chance of one of them not coming back before heading to fight. Rook gave him hope, told him to fight for what he wants most, and so he did - and it worked.)

Yet then there’s Lucanis. In the moment before fighting, he expresses such anxiety over having Rook’s life in his hands. He swears to protect them. He takes that responsibility onto himself. In the final talk before ending the plot all together - he admits to being scared to care for Rook. Worried from the earliest stages. You can hear it in his voice - how words cannot carry the depth of his emotion. Isn’t it spite who says to Rook ‘You open doors. You don’t close them’?

So imagine that period of in between while Rook is trapped. All the words that went unsaid because he was frightened. Too consumed. Behind a door that opened too late, and Rook couldn’t come to make him listen. To help. He succeeded in his contract as a crow, yet failed his promise as Lucanis.

When he walks into Rook’s chambers, his gaze is disbelieving. As if in those short steps he’s convincing himself that they are alive. When he reassures them that it isn’t the fade, he’s reassuring himself at the same time. Not just for that moment, but for all the ones that came prior. That he hadn’t made them up. That he’s no longer in the Ossuary, that everything he’s experienced up until that moment is indeed real and -

Lucanis’ romance might not be the most delved into. Other companions might have more content and interactive scenes - but out of them all, Lucanis is hands down the most impacted when Rook is sucked into Solas’ prison. Even if you do not romance him, it’s his image that Rook sees dead in place of Varric at the start of Solas’ mind game. He’s so overcome with spite and sorrow for failing to kill Ghilan’nain the first time. With their life in his hands, with his walls stopping him from baring all his heart to them before - a second failure at a price much too heavy.

He owes Rook for aiding his city, saving him from himself - he loves them so deeply that the first time we hear it is raw and the most assured line Lucanis’ has in all of his cutscenes. He kneels to them. Every line spoken from this cutscene onwards, even the small in-battle concern he says, is filled with more conviction and meaning than his delivery before. He makes sure they know his feelings because the chance almost slipped through his fingers.

If not romanced, they are still one of the closest companions he’s ever let near. Even spite went to them for aid above all the others - and their loss would be on Lucanis’ head. If Rook did not escape Solas’ prison, romanced or not, Lucanis would never walk as he did before. Thank fuck Solas didn’t end up in this man’s head instead, because the prison of regret would branch on as an endless chasm.

[proper-goodnight]

Behind the Curtain Pt. 2

Fandom: The Gray Man (2022)

Pairings: Sierra Six x Reader, Courtland Gentry x Reader, Sierra Six x You, Courtland Gentry x You

Type: Snippet/Concept (2-part)

The only thing that had graced Six’s mind during the entire performance of Macbeth was that he strongly considered that Claire would have liked it. She would appreciate the overall story, the idea of actors moving about a physical stage, acting out a performance that couldn’t be edited in post–the honesty in the actor’s performances and each line delivered with a conviction that cut through the darkness of the story, each movement a testament to their commitment. 

He didn’t quite understand the concept, having stayed by one of the exit doors to make a quick escape, but all he could think about was how one day, when the heat died down and he was brave enough to grace crossing state lines with her, he might bring Claire to witness it; give her a moment to experience art that didn’t owe its existence to digital distractions or technology–at least, she’d explained it to him like that during one of their movie nights with an old VCR tape of a recorded stage play of Hamlet. 

He shifted where he stood in the back, arms folded in front of him. Curiosity had swirled within him regarding the woman he was meant to be watching–the actress, you, the potential source of chaos since Dani had told him about you. In truth, he couldn’t wrap his mind around how you could sway the currents of power just by speaking to the right people, and how you would know or care to know about someone like him. An outcast. A felon that had lucked out of his life sentence twice–if lifetime service to the CIA had counted. 

Movement entering from stage right forced his eyes forward.

Your presence on the stage was magnetic, emitting a strange kind of captivating energy that engulfed the theater as you spoke your lines with a haunting and simultaneously enthralling cadence. Six couldn’t pinpoint what about you drew his attention exactly; he only noticed the audience leaning in, enraptured by every word and line delivered.

Faces lit up with recognition, laughter bubbling in response to wit, gasps slipping through when your voice took on a darker tone. There was a power in your performance, a raw, unfiltered emotion that surged like a wave threatening to overwhelm the shore. Six was definitely out of place among the rapture, an outsider looking in on something that he had no hope of grasping.

He looked down with a slight jerk of his head, shaking his senses back into focus. He hadn’t come to admire you; he’d come out of obligation, tethered to the rumors that she may know about him, and had the ability to bring him back out into the world. It was his concern for Claire that bid him here, and made him stay. 

Yet, as he stood there, unease flickered through him—not of envy but a strange mix of unease and intrigue.

You drew invisible lines of ambition and manipulation among the characters around you. Six couldn’t help but imagine what conversations happened behind the scenes, what sorts of truths were woven amongst them compared to lies. Maybe you reveled in that chaos and the decisions that you could influence, if what Dani suspected had been right.

He shifted again, allowing irritation to mask his own feeling of helplessness. He thought of Claire; she would have found some poetic metaphor in the actress's delivery, some deeper meaning in the madness on display. Leaning against the wall, he squinted, searching for the humanity behind the performance, but all he could see was a facade, a person wholly absorbed in a role that was not theirs, leaving behind a trail of questions and confusion.

And as the play unfolded, you transcended the space between the stage and the audience, weaving connections that only furthered his own confusion. He wondered if you peered out into the crowd, and could sense the varying emotions emitting from each audience member. He wondered, unsettling, if you could somehow sense him too.

Part of him recoiled, reminding him of his own desires to remain unseen, a ghost drifting through the world. 

The performance ended with rapturous applause, but for Six, it had only just begun. 

The crowd began to disperse moments later, chatter filling the air, but Six remained passive, leaning against the wall before sliding out the side door to the theater’s entrance. 

The street outside buzzed with life, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting into the cool evening air. Six hesitated, caught between the chaos of the exiting crowd outside and the lingering echoes of the performance he'd just witnessed. Each person brushing past him, laughing, sharing moments, made him feel more conspicuous than before. 

As he shifted through the throng, he caught sight of you stepping from the theater, still alive with the performance, your laughter mingling with that of your fellow cast members. They hung around you like moths to a flame, their faces aglow with the energy you radiated and then they dispersed all at once, like a light snuffed out, until you were alone. 

Several moments passed, and just as he began to doubt whether you’d engage with anyone of interest, or step away from the sidewalk, he spotted another group approaching you—men in suits, their demeanor underpinned by confidence and underlying menace. They moved with purpose, like wolves zeroing in on a lamb straying from the herd.

Their suits were sharp, their smiles gleamed with practiced charm, yet the subtle movements of their bodies betrayed an underlying predatory intent. The atmosphere shifted, and he could almost sense the hairs on the back of his neck rising in response to the palpable threat they exuded. Time slowed almost unbearably, and Six felt in him the need to move, to intervene, but that prodding reminder that his intention to simply watch anchored him to the spot. 

He was meant to gather information, to stay under the radar. And yet, the sight of those suits looming over the woman willed him to seek action.

He shifted into the shadows, recalibrating his approach. The situation shifted as one of the men—a tall figure with slicked-back hair—leaned down to whisper something in your ear. Even from here, Six could make out the discomfort rippling through your features, your body language tightening.

He maneuvered silently, finding the gaps between loitering admirers and departing patrons, his instincts guiding him as he threaded through the throng. The chatter seemed to dull, a singular focus bringing clarity to the chaos, and he utilized his years of training to remain unseen.

He reached the edge of the group as the conversation grew heated, voices barely low enough to be concealed from view.

There, he remained in the shadows, caught between the instinct to intervene and the reminder as to why he was there. It was easy for him to remember times when he had treaded those murky waters, negotiating the fine line between survival and exposure. But this was different; this was a woman who commanded attention without asking for it, your mere presence seemingly capable of disrupting even the most resolute power dynamics. 

Your laughter, buoyant and inviting, echoed into the evening air as you conversed with the approaching men. Those moments of levity contrasted sharply with the dark undertones he sensed lingering beneath their conversation. 

Before he could decide whether to step forward, to push through the wall of bodies between him and the interactions playing out, he caught your gaze. For a fraction of a second, your eyes—sharp and discerning—met his. It was a fleeting connection, one that felt charged with electric intensity. You registered his presence amidst the crowd, and to Six's surprise, your smile didn’t falter; if anything, it grew wider, infused with a sense of secret understanding as if you held the knowledge of his internal struggle.

Time seemed to stretch, and the world around him faded slightly; all that mattered was that moment of contact, that shared awareness. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The man beside you gestured, pointing toward the street with a confident flourish, and you turned to engage with him instead, your body language responding to their words, and your demeanor remained untouched by the men’s advances. The laughter you had shared with your castmates faded into something more guarded.

“Hey,” he heard one of the men say, voice low and feeling more like a threat than an invitation. “You should come join us. We’d love to talk about your performance tonight.”

You tilted your head slightly, feigning courtesy while an imperceptible tension threaded through your smile. There was a flash of rebellion in your eyes, one that set you apart from the asphyxiating charm of the suited men. “I appreciate the invite, but it looks like my boyfriend is here. Thank you, gentleman,” you replied, your voice light, yet firm.

What?

And then you were there, right in front of him. With a swift, confident motion, your hand latched onto his arm, pulling him toward the edge of the throng. The suddenness of your touch shocked him, an instinctive tension flaring through his body at the contact. You were warm, electric; the skin of your fingers was soft yet assertive, a stark contrast to the chilled, armored exterior he’d crafted around himself for so long.

The men in suits, taken aback by your declaration, glanced back and forth between you and him, their expressions shifting momentarily from charm to confusion, like a well-rehearsed play suddenly going off-script.

“Your boyfriend?” One of the suited men echoed, his voice taut but dripping with skepticism, as if he couldn’t reconcile the commanding figure of the actress with that of Six. “We didn’t catch that at the theater.”

Six felt the weight of their scrutiny, the way their calculating eyes assessed him but nonetheless too intimidated to approach or challenge the notion. That, he was confident at least, was a fight he would win. Words fled him; he could only stand there, frozen, caught in the web you had spun so effortlessly.

“Maybe that’s because he wasn’t on stage,” you replied, your tone playful yet edged with an undeniable authority. “But I assure you, he’s quite impressive in his own right.”

The way you spoke about him struck Six in an unexpected way. He had spent so much time in the shadows, a recluse draped in the obscurity of his past, that your casual identification of him as “boyfriend” felt dangerously bold.

The men in suits were still regarding him, their eyes scanning him with a mix of incredulity and irritation, their charming masks slipping ever so slightly. Six could almost hear the low hum of their unvoiced doubts, the question of how this woman—capable of such magnetic performances—could have found yourself entangled with someone like him.

But then again, he felt it too: the absurdity of the moment. Here he was, the ghost of a man with no clear path forward, thrust into a spotlight he hadn’t asked for, standing next to a woman who had just captivated an audience with your artistry. And yet there you were, integrating him into a narrative he never thought he’d be a part of, and holding your ground despite it.

With that, grumbling incoherent curses, they retreated into the evening, leaving you standing there amidst the floodlights and lingering applause, unscathed beside him. The conversation bubbled away as the street filled with life again—a theater where dreams collided with reality.

Six turned to you, still trying to grasp the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within him. His heart thudded in time with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Why did you say that?”

“That you’re impressive?” You asked, a glimmer of mischief in your eye, your presence casting an undeniable spell. “You look like the capable type.” At his skeptical look, you rolled your eyes and backtracked. “Life is a stage, darling. Lines blur, roles shift. I thought you might be interested.”

Six opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say.

“And it’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” he echoed, his heart racing not just from the realization that you recognized him, but from the implications of your words. He quickly glanced around to ensure no one was close enough to overhear their conversation; shadows danced across the sidewalk under the hustle of the streetlights, but the crowd had thinned.

You tilted your head, an amused smile playing on your lips. “You weren’t exactly discreet back there. You could’ve just introduced yourself instead of lurking by the exit like a stagehand waiting for a cue.”

Your lighthearted banter caught him off guard. Six’s mind scrambled to assemble a coherent response. Following you? No, more like observing from a distance, trying to glean whether you were who he thought you were—the potential link that could bridge the gap back to Claire.

“Look, I’m not—” he started, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“Save it.” Your eyes sparkled with an understanding that felt both unsettling and relieving. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to observe than to engage, especially when what you’re watching feels like enough of a performance already.” Your grin softened, only slightly, and somehow it made him feel like he wasn’t being judged. “But it’s not a crime to want to observe. Though I’ll admit, it does tend to raise eyebrows.”

“Did it?” Six asked, skepticism lacing his voice. He couldn’t place why your tone felt flirtatious and serious at once, and the blend made him dizzy.

“Of course.” You shrugged, seemingly carefree yet intensely aware. “People are wired to question the unusual. You seemed—at least from the stage—weathered; it’s not everyday someone like you shows up to watch a play. Almost like you aren’t from around here.”

Those words hung in the air, the implications swirling between them, bidding Six the sudden want to disengage and flee.

“Were you following me?” You asked, your voice playful but with an undertone that suggested you were serious. Watching him as if you already knew the answer, prepared for whatever excuse he would concoct.

“No.” The denial slipped out a bit too quickly, and he could see your amusement grow. “I mean…not like that.”

“Then what were you doing?” You eyed him with mock suspicion, leaning slightly closer. “You’ve got to admit, you made quite the impression lurking in the back while I bared my soul to an audience.”

“Do you—do you know me?” Six found the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. The question felt urgent, weighted with the rolling tension beneath his skin. Your inquisitive gaze held onto him, curiosity flickering like the streetlights casting shadows on your features.

“Should I?” You arched an eyebrow, your expression merging amusement with genuine curiosity. “You seem like someone who likes to keep a low profile. Not exactly headline material.”

He swallowed, suddenly acutely aware of the small distance between them—the warmth radiating from you was disconcertingly comforting, and he couldn’t help but feel exposed. “Maybe not. But…” His words faltered, and he stumbled over a half-formed thought. 

Your interest peaked, and you shifted, leaning in slightly as if trying to draw him closer, though he couldn’t tell if it was an invitation or an entrapment. “I’m not a detective. It might help if you started with a name.”

You didn’t know, he suddenly realized like a kick to the gut and a sudden onslaught of relief. Dani had been wrong. He tried to pull away gently, but your grip tightened slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to assert that you expected him to stay. 

He opened his mouth to say something dismissive, yet the words failed him. Instead, he took a breath, the chill of the evening air filling his lungs. “I just needed to see.”

Your gaze softened as if inviting him to reveal more. The street vibrated with life around you—the laughter of passersby, the distant honking of cars, the occasional clatter of footsteps echoing against the sidewalk. But for Six, the world beyond the two of you faded into a dissonant background, rendering the chaos outside nearly imperceptible. 

“You just needed to see,” you repeated, stepping away just enough for him to breathe. “And what is it you were hoping to see?” The playful spark in your voice had shifted to something more earnest, coaxing out the truth he struggled to articulate.

“Nothing,” he said abruptly.

You tilted your head, your expression shifting from playful intrigue to genuine concern. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.” Your voice was low, almost conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret only the two of you could understand. And perhaps that was the crux of it—this moment felt like a fragile oasis amidst the chaotic life he’d crafted around him. “Or just unapologetically awkward.”

You searched his eyes, the playful glimmer in them softening into something more sincere, almost tender. “You’re going to at least walk me home, then,” you said suddenly, breaking the spell with casual authority. “You can tell me everything and nothing at once if you’d like.”

The simplicity of your request startled him; it was as if you demanded connection despite the anonymity. 

Vulnerability threatened to overtake his carefully constructed walls. He should have said no, should have slipped back into the anonymity he was accustomed to. But as he looked at you, something inside him stirred, and he caved.

“Alright.”

“Good choice,” you said, turning on your heel and starting down the sidewalk. He followed closely, the distance between you shrinking as their footsteps synchronized against the rhythm of the bustling street.

As you walked, he stole glances at your profile—the way the streetlights traced soft shadows along your cheek, the confidence in your posture, each movement graceful yet grounded. You weaved through clusters of people, the laughter and chatter fading into white noise, their surroundings melting into an indistinct haze.

“Where do you live?” he asked, half-wondering if he should be asking at all.

“Just a couple of blocks from here,” you replied with a casual shrug. “I won’t hold you to any specifics though, don’t worry,” you added with a wink, and the ease with which you deflected his unease momentarily disarmed him. “You could say I’m an open book. Just not all chapters are meant for public consumption.”

There it was again—the way your words hung in the air, heavy with implication, making him acutely aware of their proximity. The atmosphere shimmered with a charged sense that everything felt on the brink of becoming something else, something neither of them had planned.

The two of you turned down a narrow alley that opened into a small courtyard, tucked away from the bustling street. A dim light flickered above, casting an ethereal glow that made the entire scene feel like it was pulled from a dreamscape, amplifying the surreal connection the two of you had stumbled into.

“Here it is,” you announced, halting in front of a modest brick building. You cast a glance back over your shoulder at him, your smile stretching wide, matching the glow of the flickering light.

His heart thudded in his chest, a powerful reminder of his unease—the shadows of his past loomed deeper now. He was just supposed to observe, gather information; instead, he found himself enveloped in a moment that felt electric and disorienting. He’d never intended to be caught in your orbit, but here he was, riding your coattails.

“Thanks for the escort,” you said, your voice teasing yet sincere. “I’d say you make a great boyfriend.” 

“It’s... nice; your house,” he managed, clearing his throat, feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life, as if his tongue had forgotten how to form words. He couldn't help but wonder if you could feel the tension radiating off of him like heat waves rising from asphalt.

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, propping herself against the door casually, an inviting smile on your lips. “Thanks for walking me home. It was nice,” you continued, your eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper—a warmth that felt dangerously inviting. “It’s not every day I get to share the sidewalk with a lurker.”

Heat crept up his neck, and he turned his gaze down towards the ground, feeling the weight of all the words he should have said, and all the silences that hung between you. “Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an uncertain hand, forcing a chuckle that fell awkwardly loose in the stillness. “I mean, I wasn’t really—”

“Observing,” you corrected, feigning seriousness but unable to hide your smile. “I remember you saying that. But ghosts deserve to be seen too, don’t you think?”

“Right,” he echoed, half-heartedly. The words felt clunky, like trying to fit together mismatching pieces.

As the silence stretched between you with you watching him–you stepped closer, your natural confidence blazing. The night air, charged and filled with the distant music of laughter and life, seemed to ebb as you tilted your head slightly, surveying him with an intensity that made his breath catch.

“Should I take this as an invitation to call you out for lurking?” you teased, your voice low, tantalizingly close as you drew even nearer. The warmth radiating from you enveloped him, sending a rush of confused emotions slamming against the walls he had built with such care.

Before he could form a response—a witty remark, an excuse, or simply the truth—you closed the distance, surprising him entirely. Your lips met his, soft yet assured, a fleeting collision that sent a shockwave through his senses. It was clumsy, raw, and caught him completely off guard. His mind raced as he tried to process the whirlwind of feelings crashing over him, eclipsing the years of solitude that had become his fortress.

He felt himself riveted in place, heart pounding, pulse racing, a hundred fragmented thoughts colliding in a cacophony of confusion. How could he respond? What was happening? The world had become a dreamscape, and he felt perilously awake.

And then, in a breathless heartbeat, their lips met—a kiss that ignited something dormant in him, a long-lost experience. The warmth surged through him, swelling with unexpected exhilaration. It was both grounding and liberating, a brief moment suspended in time that felt like unconfined freedom.

When you pulled away slightly, there was a soft glow in your expression. “You see that?" you murmured, brushing your fingers against his arm, the touch lingering just enough to send shivers racing down his spine. “Ghosts deserve to be seen too. Everyone does, in their own way. You were watching by a curtain—” you shrugged, “--maybe it’s time to step out.”

As the last hint of the kiss lingered in the cool air between you, your soft smile anchored him to the present. The uncertainty that had fluttered within him gradually settled, melting into relief very profound. No longer terminally adrift, he had brushed against something real, something exhilarating, yet disconcerting.

“Goodnight,” you said, your voice tinged with warmth, as if the two of you had shared something far deeper than a mere kiss in the dim glow of the courtyard. You stepped back, breaking the spell and bringing the world surging back into focus. The sounds of laughter and distant music spilled back, drowned out against his eardrums.

“Right, goodnight,” he managed in response, his voice thick with an unsureness that he couldn’t quite suppress. The conversation seemed to slip back into the cracks of his awkwardness—his habitual need to be something he wasn’t. He shuffled his feet, caught between the urgency to leave and the reluctance to do so. Each breath was heavy with a million unspoken thoughts that danced just out of reach.

You watched him keenly, a gleam of amusement sparkling in your eyes. Your laughter chimed like a bell, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile—a slight twitch of one side–at your infectious joy. “Well, consider this your official invitation to un-lurk, if that’s even a thing,” you said, your playful lilt cutting through the tension that still clung to him. “Just don’t make it a habit to haunt the back rows of theaters. You'll give the performers an existential crisis.”

“Got it,” he replied, the corners of his mouth quirking up at a more profound angle.

As you opened your door, silhouetted by the soft light spilling onto the packed cobblestone, you paused and looked back over your shoulder. “I look forward to seeing you again, lurker,” you said, your smile brightening the shadows of the night. “And maybe next time, you could share a bit more than just your presence.”

You chuckled softly, the sound wrapping around him warmly before you stepped back inside, the door clicking shut with a faint echo.

Six however lingered for a moment after you’d gone, heart racing, mind still spinning from the encounter. He turned and began to walk away, the street lights flickering beside him, their glow illuminating a path back toward a reality he felt both eager and apprehensive to embrace.

Claire.

The name washed over him with gentle familiarity, calling him back to the comfort he had built and reminding him as to the reason behind his mission in the first place. As he made his way toward home, each step felt lighter, the weight of his solitude beginning to dissolve.

But as he walked, your laughter—a soft, musical echo—lingered in his mind, something vibrant intertwining with thoughts of Claire. He didn’t know how to reconcile the two worlds that tugged at him—the comfortable, the predictable, and now, the uncertainty that came with you, an invitation that he didn’t know how to take.

[themusicsweetly]

Thank you for posting videos, pictures, and the Tribeca panel commentary on twitter. It is much appreciated. 🙏🏻

[ Anonymous #2 asked ]: Sarah, would you mind writing a S701 review since you were at the premiere last night? Don't mind spoilers and you can warn others if they don't want to read. Loved it when you did it before. Thanks!

Hello Anons! Thanks so much for both your asks! I hope you don't mind me combining both your asks.

You're so welcome, Anon #1! I so glad so many people enjoyed my posts about it! I'm very grateful that I've been able to go to these events for several years now. I know that so many of you don't get that opportunity, so I try to do what I can to bring it to you all even if only virtually. Things are always so much more fun when they're shared, anyway. After all, that's what fandom should be about! ���

For anyone who missed it, you can check out my Twitter page for my full coverage of 92Y and the Tribeca Festival. But here's some GIF spam from my favorite of the videos I was able to capture this week!

Anon #2, yes of course I'll write up a summary of my thoughts. I know you said you don't mind them, but I will try my very best to not include any spoilers in it as I know it really does ruin it for some. But just in case:

~~~POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR OUTLANDER 7x01 BELOW~~~ ~~~SERIOUSLY, DON’T @ ME THAT I DIDN’T WARN YOU~~~

Outlander 7x01, "A Life Well Lost"

As Caitriona + Sam have mentioned previously in interviews, 7x01 picks up right where 6x08 left off. No time jump or anything, which I was really glad for. The opening scene was SHOCKING and used something that I thought was really clever and really rude all at the same time lol. I can tell you that the audience gasped because of it. I feel this bit was extremely effectively done. Caitriona's micro-expressions really made it for me.

One thing that surprised me — and perhaps it shouldn't simply because Outlander has always been full of this — was that there were so many small moments of humor in this episode, despite the obvious dire situation Claire and Jamie are in (but really, when aren't they lol). There's a new small side character that both Claire and Jamie get to interact with that provides much needed comedic breaks. Even Jamie's menacing looks add to this. Claire especially, I feel, gets to use her biting wit (or just straight up cursing) to add some humor to the tenseness. There's one particularly funny scene that takes place on a boat and involves an interrupting officer that I so loved! The entire audience burst out laughing when we saw it.

While Caitriona + Sam were obviously amazing, I'll say the surprising standout actor in this episode wasn't them. I won't say who, but it's someone we're well acquainted with. There are moments straight out of the book that this actor just fully nails. We're so lucky to have such strong actors filling these side character roles and s/he is just fantastic. Their sincerity and conviction sold me completely.

As book readers can probably guess from the title and from where we are in the timeline, we know basically what will happen in this episode — and they to stick pretty well to it. Even so, it is still so satisfying to get to see it played out on screen. Claire's despair, hope, and heartbreak. Jamie's torment, anger, and determination. The relief of it all. It's all played so, so well across Caitriona + Sam's faces and in their line delivery. Sam said during the Tribeca panel that Jamie is perhaps "more frail" in this episode, and I think that can be said for both of them. Despite them being well versed in separation, I think every subsequent one after their 20 year split wears on them more and more. And they both play that so expertly, making the time that we do see them together just that much sweeter. I don't think it's too spoilery to say that yes, they do share several scenes together this episode so dinna fash!

As for Brianna and R*ger, their scenes are pretty well separate from the Jamie x Claire scenes. I don't really have much to say about them, except that they move certain other storylines that will become more important later on in the season forward. And only just so. While it was important to do so, honestly it felt a bit filler-like. That said, I am actually pretty excited for certain arcs for Brianna and Jemmy later on (while also hoping they don't include that storyline for R*ger... sorry, not sorry) and this brought them maybe half a step closer to it.

Other than the moment on the boat I had mentioned earlier, there are two scenes toward the end which I really loved. One was such a sweet moment straight out of the book with some really great book lines that I had very much wanted to hear. it is Classic™ Jamie x Claire, so you know Caitriona + Sam knocked it out of the park. The second is not a book scene (I believe?? I don't remember it anyway), but was a great one for Sam / Jamie. It's how the episode ends and I told a new friend I had met in the Tribeca line that the final moment of the episode reminded me of Batman's cape swooshing over the camera turning everything black. Lol take from that what you will!

Some other random thoughts:

Jamie x Claire are SO. SOFT. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder? Really, it makes those two grandparents softer AND I LOVE IT.

I LOVED seeing Caitriona + Sam's names appear as Executive Producers! The entire audience was singing along to The Skye Boat song and then burst out cheering when that came up.

I really hope Major MacDonald's wig gets snatched by Adso at some point because F him lol

Overall, I'd say I enjoyed the episode. Some might say it's a bit slow, which I wouldn't disagree with. But knowing that 1) they had to get this part over with the tie up the Season 6 cliffhanger; and 2) this is really going to be a jam packed season of action and emotion, I think I'm okay with that. I've heard it from more than one source that 7x02 is even better than 7x01 so I'm really excited! I'm also really excited to meet our newer cast members, as none of them featured in the premiere episode. The Hunters especially will be so much fun to watch!

Hearing Caitriona + Sam speak about not only this season, but their journey with Outlander overall makes me so grateful that the quality is still there after seven seasons. They're clearly still so passionate about these characters and are determined to do them justice in every way to the very end. And I think that most definitely shows up in their scenes. I'm super curious to see if there's anything noticeably different or better now that they've been promoted to Executive Producers. And of course, to see Caitriona's first foray into directing!! Until then, I'm looking forward to you all seeing the first episode for yourselves 💜

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s4

meeting the little girl he believes to be his sister in episode 1, then falling onto his knees, grabbing her shoulders, and saying “it’s me, fox, your brother” - he proceeds to take her with them as they escape from the clone farm, even when he learns it isn’t really samantha (god. the devotion will kill me)

offering his life in exchange for his mother’s when the alien bounty hunter catches him... pain

the way he could only focus on baseball at the start of episode 2; how he was practicing his pitching stance, and he shoved the ball under scully’s nose, saying “smell that. it’s perfume. eau de ball” <- it's important to remember that he may be a haunted and tragic figure, but also he is Silly

and how he keeps whacking the TV around to try and get it to work during their stay at the motel in pennsylvania, dancing around trying to fix it, which scully watches with a smile

mulder fact checking the cult leader who was talking about jesus in episode 5 (he was talking about SMYRNA when he said that, not about some random town in TENNESSEE!)

and his nerdy witchcraft knowledge on display in episode 6 (obviously an inverted pentagram represents the goat of lust attacking heaven with its horns! /s)

in episode 9, he is literally stuck in a gulag, looking death in the face, but says “i’m not gonna die. i have to live long enough to kill that man krycek” <- LOVE a character staying alive out of spite!!

then he performs a solid “give him two punches and throw him in the truck i’m stealing” maneuver to bag up krycek and get them both tf out of there, which occurred with a fascinating swiftness and brutality

later, when he has escaped and is back home, he has this dogged insistence that aliens are real as he testifies before the special committee, asking them why they refuse to believe when there is so much evidence (<- i LOVE how he finds everyone else's lack of belief infuriating, and how he cares not about what people think of him, but only for the Truth itself)

(and the intro reading “e pur si muove”, allegedly said by galileo when he was forced to recant his claim that the earth moves around the sun, was a very nice touch)

waking up from a nightmare in episode 10, convinced the location of a crime scene was revealed to him, so he drives to the place he saw in his dream in the dead of the night- and he was right

his ancient guilt that arose throughout the whole episode, how he was convinced he could solve the case out of sheer conviction - “don’t you think the car might have been searched at least once already?” “not by me”

and we see him waking up from his nightmares shouting samantha’s name, so haunted over the idea of the victim being her or some other poor girl that he was too impatient to let forensics dig up the bodies in their professional manner, clawing at the ground with his hands instead

going to his mom’s house in the middle of the night, apologizing profusely for waking her up, and asking her how she is doing; when he asks if she recognizes the fabric from the crime scene, she says her memory hasn’t been as good since the stroke, and he smiles, hugs her, pats her back, and tells her it’s okay (he loves her so much!!!!!)

when they’re doing the ID on the body of the child they thought might have been his sister, he lets out a broken “it’s not her, is it scully?” as he recounts how samantha broke her collarbone when she was 6. scully reassures him through his tears that it’s not her, but he says “it’s somebody, though”, realizing the devastation he feels must have been felt by this girl’s family. and it isn't his pain, but it is someone's

the incredible massachusetts- sounding line delivery of “and you’re in the wrong HOUSE, you stupid son of a bitch!”

we see his incredible vulnerability in him being willing to even let out a serial killer from prison to try and get answers- it's such an awful idea, but would any of us have done the same for a chance at getting answers?

then, when he realized the extent of his mistake and another child was put in danger, he says it doesn't matter anymore even if it was samantha they were looking for, because now another child has been placed in danger; all of this showing his terrifying willingness to do anything for answers mixed with his overflowing guilt

(and then he reveals his backup gun in his sock, which was a major slay)

how carefully he tells the girl roche took hostage to close her eyes and count to twenty- not condescending to her, but trying to keep her from panicking- before shooting her captor in the head (and then the poor girl runs off screaming into scully’s arms, who holds her and says it’s okay)

mulder rushing to the hospital to meet with scully in episode 14, not knowing what is wrong, too panicked to even read the signs pointing him in the right direction

and how he tries to make her laugh with his “i, uh, stole these from some guy with a broken leg down the hall. he won’t be able to catch me”- he smiles when she does, pleased to try and diffuse the tension the way he always feels compelled to

his refusal to believe that her cancer isn’t treatable, and how his face falls when she assures him this is the case; but despite her insistence, he will not accept it

going to skinner in episode 14, asking him to set up a meeting with CSM, even though he hates the man more than can be put into words, because CSM has to know what is happening to scully and therefore how to fix it (and skinner’s utter refusal to allow him to deal with the devil- so he does it himself)

(then he goes and fetches the lone gunmen to break into a medical facility and get some answers; “well, pick out something black and sexy and prepare to do some funky poaching”, he tells them over the phone, another joke in the face of demons)

when they do break into the facility, he tasks byers with leaving IMMEDIATELY to tell scully to stop treatment RIGHT NOW, because he realizes it is actually hurting her

after questioning the horrific antisemite who proclaims that mulder might be a jew in episode 15, he leaves with a smile and gives the man a blessing

in episode 16, he notices that skinner was shot before skinner notices himself, grabbing his arm (and once again illustrating how much mulder cares for him!!!)

banger line from episode 17: “claimed steadfastly, ignorance becomes as acceptable as the truth”

(and how he waves goodbye to the airplane that scully and frish were on <3)

in episode 19, he quotes scully's thesis at length, revealing he memorized at least parts of it word for word

(he also tucks a pencil behind his ear in this episode and it was just <3)

in episode 20, he’s talking to the mother of the latest tailed baby, who tells him that “it’s just a matter of a snip”, to which he responds “that’s good to hear” with both a sense of genuine concern and the face of a man who never expected to be dealing with tailed babies during his time in the FBI

(and his incredibly pained expressions when she reveals the father of the child is luke skywalker)

when scully is sawing into the mummy and mummy dust is all through the air, he covers his coffee upon entering the room

(and the way he tries to hide that he accidentally broke off the mummy’s foot)

mulder showing up to skinner’s house uninvited at 4 am in episode 21, asking for skinner’s help, not knowing that he covered up the death he is trying to solve

(then, later in the episode, the way his face falls when he realizes it’s skinner doing the crime on the security footage, and his heartbroken accusation that skinner had been working with CSM this whole time to kill his father and take scully, pacing the room like a wild animal)

((and THEN, his face melting when he realizes skinner was the one who made the deal with the devil he warned him against, putting together how much skinner must care for them both))

in episode 22, he elaborates on this difference between ghosts, disembodied spirits, and death omens before bowling a perfect strike. and scully looked impressed

how he SPRINTS to scully when he hears the gunshots of her shooting the evil nurse, and then the way he immediately notices the cut on her hand <3

the terrible grief he feels when he’s high out of his mind in episode 23, asking his mother if she cheated on his father; “who is my father?” “what do you want, to kill him again?” - she even slaps him, and he is such a momma’s boy normally, but look what he has been driven to in his effort to find answers; here he is, hurting the people he loves the most, losing control entirely, risking everything on a mere hunch

the doctor claiming he did nothing wrong and being met with “you put a HOLE in my HEAD” (which is funny out of context, but the horrific lengths to which he is willing to go to get answers deserves to be reiterated; he literally let some guy strap him down, inject him with drugs, and put a hole in his head to try and remember anything about what happened to samantha, everything comes down to that ancient Guilt that is integral to his being)

[influencermagazineuk]

The web has been abuzz with excitement this week as fans were treated to their first true look at the long anticipated comeback of Ben Affleck's calculating and lethal alter ego, Christian Wolff, in The Accountant 2. Fans were itching to learn how the follow-up to the 2016 thriller would pan out, and now they finally can. Amazon and Warner Bros. have finally released the first full-length trailer, giving an exciting preview of what's to come. The movie is the comeback of director Gavin O'Connor, as well as screenwriter Bill Dubuque, who wrote the original film's intense story. The trailer features Affleck with Jon Bernthal, reprising his role as Christian's brother, Brax. With the figures counted, this sequel seems to be in the process of bringing an action-filled experience, upping the stakes by a lot. Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons For fans of the original movie, this trailer promises what everyone has been clamoring for. Christian Wolff is back, as mysterious and calculating as before. A big twist is revealed—J.K. Simmons' character, Treasury agent Ray King, is murdered, and a cryptic message is written on his arm: "Find the accountant." This leads to a high-octane mission where Christian and Brax are reunited. The pair sets out on a determined quest for the truth, with the help of Treasury Agent Marybeth Medina (Cynthia Addai-Robinson), who helps guide them through the treacherous journey that lies before them. The movie draws heavily on the hallmarks of what made the original succeed—accuracy-driven fight choreography, psychologically intense tension, and an assassin lead that walks the thin line between killer efficiency and adamant moral conviction. The trailer is a preview of the chemistry between Christian and Brax, imbuing the action with an added emotional gravity. Their relationship is rife with unresolved tensions and prior trauma as it plays against the background of high-level money politics and harsh fight scenes. Where the first film delved into Christian's singular perspective on life—his mathematical brilliance and his calculating, almost robotic method of doing violence—this sequel doubles down on that formula, with increased violence and deeper personal investment. It's a thinking person's thriller and a rollercoaster ride of adrenaline-fueled action that made the first film a sleeper success when it became available on streaming services. The official synopsis also gives more details about the movie's plot: "When her old boss is murdered by unseen assassins, Treasury Agent Marybeth Medina (Addai-Robinson) is compelled to call on Christian Wolff (Affleck) to crack the homicide. With his estranged but extremely deadly brother Brax (Bernthal), Chris uses his genius-level mind and less-than-legal strategies to reconstruct the unsolved equation. As they close in on the truth, the trio catch the attention of some of the deadliest killers alive — all of whom are determined to shut down their investigation." This set-up promises an intense cat-and-mouse game, with Christian's unmatched brilliance contrasted against powerful enemies. It's not merely about cracking a case; it's about staying alive in a world where even the best agents are fair game. Blending high-octane action and psychological depth guarantees that this sequel will appeal to fans of the first installment while enticing new readers who enjoy high-stakes thrill rides. The most interesting thing about the trailer is the tone, which is distinctly dark humor set against tightly choreographed action. Christian's deadpan, machine-like delivery creates a contrast between him and the mayhem all around him, and it's an interesting thing to watch. The rapport between Affleck and Bernthal continues to be just as charged, with their sibling relationship bringing added depth to the narrative. Though their relationship is founded on violence and survival, there's a subtext of redemption and reconciliation that gives emotional depth to their journey. Visually, the movie continues with the sleek, high-contrast look that characterized its prequel. The action scenes are well-choreographed, prioritizing precision over sheer spectacle. Every step, every cut, and every choice feels deliberate, echoing the calculating attitude of its protagonist. From graphic hand-to-hand combat to car chases, the movie will have spectators at the edge of their seats. The release of the sequel is timely, as audiences are hungry for smart action movies that are both exciting and meaningful. The Accountant 2 appears to be delivering on both counts. O'Connor's direction keeps the story grounded while embracing the high-octane thrills that audiences expect from a movie of this quality. With its April 25 release date, the question is still out there—can The Accountant 2 live up to or even exceed its original? The original film's success was based largely on word of mouth and its strong performance on streaming sites following a small theatrical run. This time, however, expectations are higher, and the movie has the potential to make a big niche for itself at the box office. Whether it's a blockbuster success or a cult classic, The Accountant 2 is looking to be a thrilling ride packed with hard-hitting action, smart storytelling, and a lead character who continues to be one of the most intriguing figures in contemporary action films. Fans won't have to wait much longer to find out how the math adds up when the film finally opens in theaters. Read the full article

[ddashunknown]

Unknown68D's Defence of Gwen Stacy

Oh, what fun! My first in-depth character analysis. Let's get into it.

This is by far the best character analysis I've ever seen on a character in any piece of media ever. After reading this masterpiece of a post, I've been mesmerized by how much this parallels what I've been thinking about since watching ATSV a week ago. I could not have put it into better words myself overall!

Aside: Her frustrations with not knowing what's right & wrong are something I heavily resonated with today, even at 21! Ironically, at 16 I was much more confident in my worldview than I was now. Perceptions of right & wrong clash and it's SUPER difficult to navigate at times to the point where I'd argue that it's hard to be a good person nowadays, requiring a lot of courage & training your mind to think in a more robust, logical, educated & nuanced way.

I'd argue that this movie is equally Gwen Stacy's story as it is Miles's, though her character arc is essentially complete or at a minimum on the up-swing (Pun ABSOLUTELY intended 😎) since she's found conviction & purpose at the end of it all.

I was taken aback by how much care & concern she has for Miles throughout the entire film. The overt and subtle desire she had to spend time with him despite the dangers of doing so was accompanied by the adorable duo's swinging scenes, the concern she has for his safety, the desperation in her voice when she thought Miles had perished under the rubble & finishing off with the "you're amazing" line to drive the point home.

She's not selfish (quite the opposite), she's not a "bad person" & she's CERTAINLY not in the same UNIVERSE as irredeemable as some claim. It takes a lot for me to be convinced of the latter two for any person, fictional or IRL. I'd argue that those who are so easily convinced of that onto anyone are closer to that themselves, honestly. I don't like associating with those types of people myself.

Ultimately, I believe that Gwen Stacy is a victim of circumstance who was thrown into a web (The puns aren't stopping & I'm not sorry.) of unwinnable situations above anything else:

The threat of being locked up in her home dimension for a long time was REAL. (From my understanding, there are instances where older teens 16 & 17 can be charged as an adult for extreme crimes like this, so that's my argument there.) It was ALWAYS a haunting reality in the back of her head from the moment she left her home dimension. (Tbh I don't get how Captain Stacy said he "quit halfway through her speech" if he was ordering her to comply the entire time. If someone could fill me in on what I missed, that'd be great.)

The Spider-Society was her ONLY way to escape, but she learned (presumably quickly) that Miles was an anomaly & that his father was destined to die as a result of making that decision. If she told Miles, she'd get kicked out of the Spider Society & sent back home to face that fate. It was here where the conditioning began & it was methodical enough to convince a lot of spider people that this was the right course of action. It often happens in a slow and digestible way such that everything SOUNDS like it make sense, often to the point of ignoring small doubts because the delivery is convincing & persuasive.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe she had no chance can tell him in secret either since she was likely under surveillance the majority of the time. This post & my own conclusions after my first viewing of the film are my supporting evidence. Feel free to provide a counter-argument if you can. You act differently when you're being watched & I believe Miguel caught onto Gwen's love for Miles quite early on. The line "You didn't catch him, Gwen!" after Miles escapes Nueva York drove this point home for me as I think he wanted Gwen to catch Miles, the original anomaly, herself.

Aside 2: This may be a HUGE stretch, but I wonder if Miguel secretly wanted Gwen to use her relationship to lure Miles into his trap, which would be next-level messed up. I believe he knew more than he let on in the film as we know Miguel knew about the events of Into The Spiderverse from that movie's post-credits scene, though to what extent, we don't know. It's my theory that he knew she was a liability via the relationship they had with one another, so he knew she could be a liability to them. Counter-arguments to this may exist, so take this unsubstantiated claim with a grain of salt. It's beside the point.

From Miles' perspective, he has every right to feel hurt & betrayed as he felt like every single one of his Spider-friends abandoned him, especially Gwen, the person he felt closest with. Unfortunately, there was no way for her to let him know without dire consequences on her ability to be a free person, her one close relationship, and/or the multiverse itself.

I think Miguel is incorrect and delusional with the conclusions he draws based on what he went through combined with his mannerisms. His vendetta against Miles seems way more personal than it needs to be. Example: "YOU'RE A MISTAKE" when it wasn't his fault that he became Spider-Man and Miguel likely knows this already? At best, he's taking out his frustrations with keeping the multiverse together out on a person who doesn't deserve it. That act alone is worse to me than anything Gwen does throughout the movie. She's been conditioned to believe in things that aren't always what they seem, so saying it's "for your own good" was just as hard a pill she thought he had to swallow at the expense of her relationship with Miles for the good of the many. The OG post explains the rest best.

The last thing I want to comment on is how her whole perspective changes, as I believe everything started to click for her when Captain Stacy said he quit the police force. A "canon event" was broken and for a WHILE now, with nothing bad happening to Gwen's universe. With the burden of arrest lifted, the pressure + conditioning that the Spider society had on her gone & a CHANCE at making things right again via Hobie's watch, her resolve is now clear. The OG post, again, explains the rest beautifully here.

Remove the unwinnable circumstances and she acts immediately to make things right. First, she visits Miles' home dimension but realizes he's in the wrong universe & promises his parents she'll find him, THEN she forms her own band consisting of every single person who Miles had a significant impact on, most of whom he SAVED, too! Now, it's THEIR turn & they're not gonna waste it.

If THAT isn't the truest form of love, to heal the hurt you were conditioned to cause the moment you realize & get the chance to, I don't know what is.

That's my stance on my defense of Gwen, I think you know the rest.

Final Thoughts

As someone who wasn't a Spider-Man fan at all growing up, I can confidently say that this rendition of Gwen Stacy is one of my favourite characters ever in terms of complexity, relatability, loyalty, conviction, courage & the ability to show true, genuine love/care for the people around them.

I made a post about the my reaction to this movie from a week ago more in this post, so if you're interested, have a read! I look forward to engaging with this franchise & the Ghostflower ship a lot more! It'll likely be a mainstay on this account for a while. :)

I'd say I can't wait for Beyond The Spiderverse, but I honestly can & frankly we all should due to the horrendous treatment of the production crews. Tumblr's dedication to keeping fandoms alive will more than suffice in the meantime. Be good to each other, okay?

As a reward, for making this far, you get to enjoy this meme.

THe oNLy unfOrgiVaBLE ThiNG GwEn diD

I change my mind I take it all back crying & sobbing rn Gwen I understand everything else but this? THIS?! HoW CoUld yOu I... I just, it's over. It's aaaalllll over goodbye Gwen. 😭😭😭

--------------------

In all seriousness, much love to all of you & I hope this franchise brings you all the happiness & comfort you deserve in these trying times! 💙

In defense of Gwen in Across the Spider-Verse

Okay. First of all: This post is gonna be super long and have tons of spoilers so if you don’t want to get spoiled for Across the Spider-Verse then don’t read this post. I have seen way too many people hate on Gwen because of her actions and her behavior towards Miles in Across the Spider-Verse. I’ll show you why that hate completely misses her arc in the movie and her true intentions/relationship with Miles. This post will also delve into Gwiles/Ghostflower since that is a big part of what shapes her intentions.  Many people say Gwen betrayed Miles and doesn’t really care about him. They say Miles shouldn’t forgive her and that she is a snake for what she did. I’ll show you why the opposite is true by going through the events of the movie in cronological order: The movie literally starts off with Gwen talking about Miles. She is drumming away, which is, mentioned by herself, a way for her to cope with her feelings. That opening from Gwen is a small glimpse into her head. We see how she feels and what she thinks. The interesting thing is that it’s basically Gwen broadly narrating the events of the entire movie. We even see glimpses of future scenes in that intro. The line of narration that is most important here is Gwen saying “I didn’t want to hurt him. But I did. And he is not the only one.” This shows us IMMEDIATELY that Gwen did not intend to hurt Miles AT ALL. Quite the contrary. It also shows that she is AWARE she hurt Miles. She knows she fucked up. That is going to be important later on when she needs to make the tough decision regarding Miles/The Spider Society. 

Keep reading

[maximuswolf]

If You Could Make A Spiritual Successor Game

If You Could Make A Spiritual Successor Game What game would you make a spiritual successor to? In the same lines that Stardew Valley was created to scratch the farming itch that Harvest Moon refused to, what’s a game or series that if you had the ability you would remake yourself? Crackdown was an Xbox 360 exclusive game that was an over-the-shoulder shooter with sandbox physics and super powers that put other other-the-shoulder shooters to shame with just how fun it was to be a roided up psycho throwing dumpsters at people. Then the sequels came and like most AAA, the quality greatly decreased. There was less emphasis on the fun controls and more on like, driving. Same thing happened to Saints Row, Grand Theft Auto, and Just Cause.I would make Cracktown USA, in which you play as a drug dealer who discovers the government is flooding your streets with super crack in attempts to villainize drug users further by creating then arresting super beings. If you’ve played Crackdown you’d know the crack is a parallel to the upgrade points you get, only they have a diegetic narrative reason for existing now. They would still affect roughly the same skills, one crack makes you strong = punch harder, lift heavier objects, jump farther. One crack affects your reflexes = increased shooting accuracy and gun handling, bullet time meter, counter attacks and dodges. One affects your intelligence = explosives hurt more, hacking ability, increased rewards. One affects your agility = better car handling, run faster on foot, longer i-frames on dodge. I loved the city of the first game. The buildings and level design were set up like the whole city was one big obstacle course. I would set the game in a town based on multiple US cities, near to the water is Miami inspiration, Detroit like slum and factories, New York style downtown, San Francisco style hillside buildings and roadways, forested area like Vermont, flat land in the middle like Colorado. I would want a running course that can take you all over the map with parkour, that would be hopefully more fun than using fast travel but faster than running there regularly. Although, to avoid controversy I could easily find Canadian inspiration and change the setting, making the game and dialogue more uniquely Canadian. Substitute Toronto for New York, BC for San Fran, Alberta Colorado, New Bruinswick for Vermont, Miami being the hardest to parallel I could just make it Newfie.I’d flood the world with quests. Racing, shooting/compound missions, parkour, brawling, physics puzzles, delivery quests.It would ideally tell an exciting story about a drug dealer who ends up dismantling the government in his city to protect the citizens from super drug users. While attempting to create a super soldier serum the US government accidentally succeeds, only the drugs are unstable and not fit for soldiers, filling the users with a rage. They start flooding the streets with the stuff and then arresting the people who take it, brainwashing and conscripting the citizens to fight wars now as super convicts. Your character has such a high tolerance to crack that the drugs negative effects don’t affect him, with (one of) the only clear head(s) and new abilities he works to uncover where the drugs are coming from and stopping them.Just a fun thought, what game would you like a spiritual successor to? Submitted July 28, 2024 at 10:24AM by Significant-Battle79 https://ift.tt/AXe2cjP via /r/gaming

[lgcrp]

◔ ┈ LOADING … TRAINEE PROFILE INITIATED !

BAE SOJIN ( READ MORE HERE )

AGE 22 ( 15 MARCH 2001 )

TRAINED FOR 9 MONTHS ( SIGNED JANUARY 2023 )

              INTRODUCTION VIDEO FOUND … PRESS PLAY ?

The well-dressed aspiring actor stood on his mark, bracing himself for what's to come, a sense of savoir-vivre. His eyes revealing calming conviction as he awaited to showcase his talents. "Hello. My name is Bae Sojin, I'm focusing on my acting portfolio and skills." Sojin invested immense amount of time and effort in committing his script from his previous role to memory. Past days filled with strange looks from others, as he recited his lines under his breath. Intense mirror monologues to himself as the shower steam rolled off. He was determined to make it appealing to a specific demographic of viewers he was intimately familiar with and understands exceptionally well. "Treat me well." A broad smile spread across his face, giving out an air of machismo and self-assurance.As the stage light flickered on, camera rolling — he took a deep breath and steadied himself. The room around him faded away and for a moment time stood still; his focus shifted to the moment at hand. With each word he recited, he felt himself seeping deeper and deeper into the character. His movement and gestures conveying the character's emotions aided him in painting a picture. Sojin's voice rose and fell with the character's passions, and every ounce of himself is lost in the performance. His delivery was passionate, measured and precise - yet filled with intensity and desire. Every nuance of the character's personality was brought to life through his skillful portrayal. As soon as he finished reading the script, he flashed his broad smile directly at the camera.

            INTERESTED ? REACH OUT TO THE TRAINEE !

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Alice Pisano’s newest catchy pop release ‘Part-Time Girlfriend’ embodies fierce vocals, addictive instrumentals and a liberating message of knowing your worth

Italian born, London based rising star Alice Pisano has been taking the London pop scene by storm since her 2018 beginnings, naturally writing releases that both entwine high-spirited releases with messages that carry an emotional value too. Following the release of Pisano’s ‘Shattered but Still Cool’ EP earlier this year, Alice is now sharing her newest single ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ that’s the perfect summer bop to be playing loud and dancing along to at every opportunity you find.

Emphatic right from its beginnings, ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ immediately from pressing play embodies all of the addictive spice you could hope for, upbeat and steaming along at full force. A storming, quick-paced beat brings the momentum instantly into the first verse, accompanied by intermittent claps, pops of synth and a vibrant electric guitar riff, a simple but catchy concoction of sounds. Singing atop it with a more downbeat, casual delivery, Alice rather charismatically tells her striking narrative front and centre of it all, capturing lines with an airy, feel-good approach easy to sing along and get in the groove of. Picking up with added bright, drawn-out beats for the pre-chorus, ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ only continues to grow and keep you completely mesmerised before the chorus finally explodes into a fiery outburst you’ll be utterly hooked on. Crashing into thundering electronic beats, synth fizzles and of course Alice’s staple vocal performance that comes completely unleashed as she cathartically soars through dominant vocal highs and a cascading range, ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ hits every single peak of an exceptionally gripping edgy pop release you could want. While clean and catchy, Alice has also nailed a slight rock-based undertone reminiscent of Avril Lavigne’s witty character and spirited sound, an all around top-notch single that leaves us wondering how long it’ll be before Alice Pisano is a name we’re hearing everywhere.

In an era of “situationships” and half-baked relationships tailed off into nothingness, Alice has penned an all-too relatable lyrical message of letting go of all those people who just aren’t ready to commit after stringing you along for as long as possible. Turning their backs on you when things got too serious, ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ is a liberating anthem for burning all those bridges and knowing your worth, all the while angstily releasing the frustrations of being led on and visualising a future together just to be continually left heartbroken time and time again. As lines like ‘I let my guard down because it felt so natural, I really thought that we were compatible’ share how Alice allowed herself to open up, there’s a definite aching buried inside of ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ that yearns for a connection without the let down, but Alice’s confidence has a natural way of burying it into high energy, sing-along lines. Detailing the way she began to allow their lives to combine, Alice sings ‘you picked me up at the airport… we talk about our families’, small and simple details that began to make their connection feel all the more real and as though it were headed into serious territory. But it’s not long before the chorus hook slams back into reality, declaring ‘Oh, what a waste of my time, I’m not gonna be a part-time girlfriend’ after yet another request to ‘keep it casual’, as Alice knows she’s worth more than just being someone’s piece on the side destined to be discarded when they’re done with her. While it’s constantly delivered with a wit and self-assured conviction, if you really listen to the narrative of ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ it truly carries a deep message of preaching self-love, not allowing anyone to hold you back and finding the love you really deserve, with a sprinkling of pain and heartbreak muddled in too.

Speaking on the track Alice says: “I wrote Part-Time Girlfriend after dating a guy who didn’t want to commit… It’s a kiss-off to someone who made you believe they wanted to be in a relationship with you, but backed out when things got too serious. It was so liberating writing it!”

Check out ‘Part Time Girlfriend’ here to enjoy Alice’s blazing sound and lyricism you’ll be screaming along with and feeling all at the same time.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[various-things]

Just to add some thoughts here, and not at all to invalidate your own take op (I agree that it would have been better to see him interact with others more and I also strongly agree a slight costume change would have been good!): I personally really like Dooley's portrayal of Tain, but the lack of conviction in a lot of his line deliveries lands to me as a very deliberate acting choice. I think Tain intentionally presents himself as non-threatening and bland, and amiable most of the time. Soft, comfortable, old fashioned clothing. Strongly avuncular. I think (for me personally) there also is an ongoing and underlying level of threat in how he speaks. Soft, bland, almost sing-song at times. He's not a man who has a reason to need to raise his voice or show anger. I think the only two notable times I feel that he drops the affect (to a slight degree—I also think in some ways the affect is calcified for Tain and is a way he has fallen into communicating for decades, the way a lot of our speech is, and I'm not counting him breaking down at the end of The Die is Cast or afterwards) is when he goes "And now Doctor, I really think you should be going." and "Make it brief." to Julian in The Wire and when he goes "I think you'll find when I have something to say, you won't have any trouble understanding it." to Odo in Improbable Cause. I think in the latter instance, his threat to Odo is actually less intimidating than his amiability. A choice to seem intimidating that maybe undermines the confidence and security of avoiding doing so. I think that interpretation on my end with regards to that line might not be what was desired though. Even when he's telling Garak to torture Odo and strongly intimating consequences for Garak if Garak doesn't—definitely conveying intimidation and much more effectively in my opinion, the delivery stays bland and amiable even as his facial expressions go more calculating, the pauses more loaded, the shades of softness more obviously layered with other meaning. I do also think the Tain we meet by Improbable Cause is a Tain whose "good judgment" has significantly begun to lapse. Upending his life and planning to return to his former glory—and I wonder why he wants that. If I was incorporating the context of ASIT I'd say that Tain is probably telling himself that he's still the best person suited to run the Order and that it's for Cardassia, but in the context of solely actual show canon I don't know and it's an interesting question to me. Overall, while I may differ in how I feel about Tain's portrayal, I definitely think all of the above would have been more effective if it had been supported by further character interactions though.

Honestly? No. I don't.

The one thing that's always bugged me about this episode is that I've seen it 4 times now and I still don't buy this dude. I'm still waiting for him to say, oh never mind I'm actually the decoy, the guy you really want is over there. No shade on the actor because I feel like he was told to play it a certain way, but like... the vibe I get is "I wandered in off the street and I know everything because the director gave me his annotated script, not because I actually possess any skills whatsoever." I suppose that's not helped by the "fade to black, pick up a few days later" so we never actually see Julian put any of that information to use.

[furyborne]

I have finished my fourth watching of The English and I am probably gonna watch it for a fifth time tomorrow.

I can’t begin to express how much I love the characters, the story, and the beautiful costume designs.

And I need more people to watch it.

I need more people to obsess with me.

[dilirebas]

My Review of  长安十二时辰 / The Longest Day in Chang’an

The Longest Day in Chang’an is about a convicted murderer who is taken off death row to help a young security bureau chief prevent an attack on Chang’an, the vibrant and diverse capital of the Tang Dynasty.

I have mixed feelings about this drama. The Longest Day in Chang’an is a well-made drama, without a doubt, but it also didn’t live up to its godly reputation.

I was more in love with the style than the substance. The cinematography, costumes, sets, and overall production quality are amazing. Cao Dun is one of the most interesting directors in c-ent.

The drama gives you a shockingly realistic portrayal of the city of Chang’an. It doesn’t feel like an idol historical, nor does it feel like a serious drama. (By “serious drama”, I mean 正剧.) It has more of a film style.

Tbh it didn’t need to be 48 episodes long. The pace is slow, and that makes sense because there are a lot of overlapping storylines that come together to make one single narrative. But even though all the storylines were connected, I didn’t feel that they were all necessary.

Some of the supporting characters were two-dimensional or acted inconsistently. It often felt like characters were doing things, not because it made sense for those characters to act that way, but because those actions would contribute to the plot. Some examples include Wen Ran, Long Bo, and Xu Bin’s decision-making.

Some of the supporting characters became irritating to watch because of how incompetent or selfish they were. Sure, a lot of people in real life (and history) suck. But as a viewer, I don’t have infinite patience. I ended up accelerating through much of the drama. (This might sound insane if you’re watching the first episode and you find it confusing and complex, but once the story gets going, it’s actually really simple and easy to follow.)

Honestly...a lot of the characters just feel like plot devices.

The storylines aren’t always super continuous. A scene will often reach a climax and end without resolution. It’ll cut to some other characters doing something else, and when you return to the characters you were previously watching, they’ll have moved to a new location. Sometimes you’re shown the resolution of the previous scene in flashback format. Sometimes you’re left to assume that everything worked out.

Speaking of flashbacks...there are a lot.

I love the fact that the drama is undubbed. I loved it in Cao Dun’s Tribes and Empires and I loved it in The Longest Day in Chang’an. When you use the actors’ original voices, you get a certain rawness and sincerity that you don’t get from the more standardized work of voice actors. Of course, a prerequisite is that the actors have strong line delivery. And this was definitely the case here. Lei Jiayin’s line delivery was so good that he basically sounded dubbed.

YYQX’s line delivery was a weaker link. I don’t want to criticize his overall acting because it wasn’t bad for a newcomer. I think there’s a real difference that comes with experience (like the ability to emote naturally and subtly), but aside from that it was a solid performance. But I do wish he had been dubbed, even if it was himself doing the dubbing. There were parts where he did dub over himself (this happens in undubbed dramas when certain scenes have an audio issue), and it was really obvious because his in-studio voice sounded better than his on-site voice. In contrast, I didn’t notice where other actors dubbed over themselves because the quality of the lines was consistent.

I don’t think I was really convinced by any of the romantic storylines in this drama. Fortunately, romance doesn’t play a huge role anyway.

Overall I think the biggest problem is the script. I’m inclined to think that the pacing problems, plot holes, and characterization issues are mostly problems in the writing. On the other hand, the production quality and directing style were strong enough that I finished the drama and enjoyed it in spite of those issues.

I do think this drama is still worth checking out, even if you just watch part of it. So many ancient dramas are set in Chang’an, but this drama does the best job of showing what the city was actually like. It’s estimated that 1 million people lived within the city walls. Chang’an was massive, busy, divided, and extremely diverse.

[aniverous]

"I am a PERSON! I DESERVE a NUMBER!"

I really wanna talk about this line.

Not only being from one of my favorite scenes in my favorite season of Infinity Train, this line stuck out to me in a lot of ways, and not just because of the fantastic delivery.

First off, in pretty much every other work I know of, having a number is dehumanizing, it's something used when a character is a slave or a prisoner or a manufactured being. It creates distance between that person's identity and the person using the number to adress them. Especially in stories like Lake's, being seen as just a number should be the last thing she wants. Her whole journey is about finding her own identity, after all. You would think she would just be saying that she should be able to get off the train, not that she should be branded by it.

And yet, on the Train, it is only those with numbers that are considered people. They're the Passengers, the ones with problems worth caring about. From the very first episode of Book 2, the difference between Passengers and Denizens has been made clearer and clearer; Denizens exist to help passengers, and they are beneath them on the Train's list of priorities. And at this point, Lake has, at least on some level, acknowledged this; if she doesn't have a number, then she isn't considered a person by the Train no matter what she does or feels.

The other thing I wanted to point out was how Lake said she deserved a number. She isn't saying how having a number, which in this case serves as an 'identity' by Train standards, is something she should automatically have. Earlier, when arguing with Mace, Lake only insists that she is a person, not that she did anything that made her a person, just that she inherently was one. Passenger numbers are a permanent reminder that if the human struggles enough, they will eventually get their freedom. It judges their efforts and conviction and suffering.

Lake had been through a lot, both before the Train and on it, with things getting even worse after Jesse left. She'd fought, she'd ran, she'd defended her right to exist. But she didn't have a number, so the Train doesn't care. Once she had a number, then her efforts would actually do something towards her goal.

Really, this moment truly shows just how hopeless Lake was feeling at this point. She had spent every moment up until now fighting everything that went up against her. She never lost faith that she was a person, even when the Denizens thought she wasn't. Even when the Passengers thought she wasn't. Even if Mace was right and she was a Denizen and all those 13 years of misery as a reflection are a fabrication so she could help a random girl feel less sad. She never gave up, never stopped trying to beat the system. Getting a number was just another solution to try.

But when it fails, when the great machine keeping her prisoner won't acknowledge her existance even when she's right in front of it...she submits. She agrees with it's standards of personhood. She's willing to let it treat her as a problem to be fixed. Shes willing to go through more trials if it will say that her suffering was worth anything at all and wasn't a waste of time.

She was even willing to let the Train take her memories if it meant she would be recognized as a person.

That's how hopeless she was.

[the-queen-of-ships]

🏰🐑🔨?

Not me thinking we were going to a castle to kill a sheep with a hammer. Ignore my forgetful bum.

1. Fav Love Rival (Leo, Suzie, Beckett)

Well, top 1 goes to my boy Leo! For one, I was absolutely stoked to see someone who appreciates Gwen’s beauty. His interactions with Jamie are also sweet, borderline romantic to platonic, I love those! He’s such a sweetie, once it was made clear to him that he didn’t have a chance with Gwen because she was still hung up over Fred, he backed down when Fred finally made the move with some conviction kinda like a wingman; a very harsh wingman. Also gave solid advice about how “find the quote”

Suzie’s second, I like her even tho she’s kinda a ‘pick me girl’ sometimes hehe. But despite it all she cares about Lorena. I absolutely adore Lance/Lorena but Lorzanna is adorable.

Beckett is last, sure he’s cute, funny at times. He definitely knocked Maria down a peg and made Blaine think about getting to know her properly. Also despite how he didn’t imagine Maria (really Gwen) to look like that, he still stayed true to his feelings. I don’t necessarily hate him but he’s last because...

1. We don’t get much screen time or one on one with the pastel siblings or their crush. Most of his screen times are for comedic purpose only.

2. He agrees with the King Jack’s rule about the pastel princesses that they shouldn’t go outside because they’re too pure to go outside. His words not mine. It’s kinda funny knowing how much of degenerate Maria is.

3. Kind of a hypocrite tbh. Judging Blaine for being shallow when Blaine has seen Maria and has spent time with her more than Beckett ever could and he judged him based on Blaine’s appearance alone. Like Blaine stills find her attractive despite the fact she showed her fangirl side and for some reason likes the scent of bird seeds and slightly damp forest creatures. And Beckett likes Maria for her voice that’s it and that is all he knows about her. 

4. I don’t like how he responded to his long time colleague's goodbye. Like man expressed that he was his best friend and he’ll miss him after he leaves and Beckette’s response was “Is that like one of your jokes or something with?” Like what do you think!? He probs didn’t mean it since the following line but take him seriously man!

So, in short, I'd rather not Maria get with him, maybe besties but lovers? No thanks. I like character development but I like the extreme drastic!

2. Opinion on Laverne

Ah yes! Absolute Queen. That style, that confidence, she likes Whitney! Of course I love her

3. Fav Quote

Hmm, I dont have a fav but I'll rank it to how much I cry. I don't typically watch out for quotes but I have a few in mind. Prez's self love monologues are an absolute tear jerker, the one where I believe the cpc were eavesdropping and Gwen was crying. 

"What am I supposed to do then!?" - Gwen

"Gwen, all you need to do... is love yourself. Exactly the way you are." - Calpernia

Ah it was such a beautiful moment! It also helped that someone voiced act it and Prez’s delivery was so sweet, loving, gentle.

Next would in Lilyth’s Diary Part 3

"They can say I’m ugly and they can tell me I’m a hideous freak. I don’t care as long as I am with Jack. But If I brought a child into this world who would ever have those same words said to their face... I’d hate myself forever." - Leelathae

Which absolutely broke me and Aurelia.

The more recent one would be Whitney's false realization in the party, I got absolute chills during that one. But it’s more monologue than quote so I’ll leave it there.