#but what do i remember? gar nichts!

[please-dont-pet-the-okapi]

Please pray for me. I have my last German final in about an hour and I do NOT feel prepared.

[chevvy-yates]

OC INTERVIEW

got tagged by @alphanight-vp. Thank you sm 🤍

As I got four boys I will only pick Ryder for now, as I assume he's the secret crowd favorite. If it happens I get tagged again I'll pick another as I do not have the energy to do all four atm.

—

Decided to let Ry answer. All in italic is what he thinks for himself as further answers as he usually doesn't like these sort of rather boring and timewasting questioning and even more so doesn't tell that to strangers. So it's not a must to let the oc speak but I felt like doing it for this one. It's just Ryder thinks a lot for himself especially with strangers. He holds back his true wants and interests very often and only gives harsh answers to them that don't tell much about him.

—

///_NAME?

"You scanned me, right? It says 'Ryder' — and that is how you are allowed to call me. No last name, Just Ryder. Is all you need to know." — I'm a fucking von Scharfenberg, some high royal German Corpo. If I would spit that into your face you would probably only laugh and your answer would be "This is a joke right?". Kein Scherz, I'm the son of the CEO of Militech. The useless boy who disappeard several years ago. I had reasons enough to leave this shitty live.

///_NICKNAME?

"You are a rando so for you I am still 'Ryder', ist das klar?" — My nickname is 'Ry' but I only allow my closest friends and loved ones to call me like that. Thyjs calls me 'snoep' and I think that sounds beautiful. He only says it when we are just for us. So ein Süßi.

///_GENDER?

"Cis male."

///_STAR_SIGN?

"It spans 210–240° ecliptic longitude under the constellation of Scorpius, so it's Scorpio." — Sometimes though I feel like a cancer in a leather jacket rather than a true Scorpio.

///_HEIGHT?

"I'm 1,88m tall. Translate it to inches, feet or whatever you count in by yourself." — Why can't this world have a consistent meassurement system? Geht mir so auf die Nüsse! Apple hat's doch auch vor gefühlt 50 Jahren geschafft Thunderbolt dem USB-C Standard anzupassen und heut' gibts das nicht mal mehr!

///_ORIENTATION?

"Gay. Top only."

///_FAVORITE_FRUIT?

"I rarely eat fruits. They are expensive as fuck these days."

///_FAVORITE_SEASON?

"Clearly Fall. I like the wet rainy air way more than hot sweaty summers."

///_FAVORITE_FLOWER?

There we go— the standard questions are popping up once again. Wieso jetzt Blumen? This is getting lame. — "I always forget the name. Ask Thyjs, not me. He knows it for sure. It's pretty. Dark purple is all I can remember."

///_FAVORITE_SCENT?

"The smell of a thick dark and green German forest. Cedarwood, moss and earthy scents. That paired with rain? Beste!" — I miss that a lot. — "If you want to know a fragrance instead: Aramis. Its notes? Like the way I'm smelling for you right now minuse the cigarette smoke." — I see you start sweating. Unübersehbar. Aramis never fails.

//_COFFEE_OR_TEA?

TEE? — "Brudi, Tee kommt mir gar nicht in die Tüte! Give me a fucking beer! Faust. Astra. Or a Tannenzäpfle. Man, I even take your lousy American beer or a Heinaken if I have to but please — no fucking tea!" — Coffee in the morning is alright though and gets me going.

///_AVERAGE_HOURS_OF_SLEEP?

"Man, why always these lame questions? Fucking hell. I do not track my sleep. If I sleep, I fucking sleep! If it's 4 or 8 hours – I do not care!" — To be honest, I rarely got a good sleep – not before Thyjs came into my life as he distracts me a lot. I mean if I found sleep, i slept, but there's been a time I slept like two hours and I needed booster meds to stay awake. Beast pounds almost 24/7 in my head — try find some sleep with it. almost impossible …

///_DOG_OR_CAT_PERSON?

-Sighs rather agressively- These questions are getting on my nerves. — "Dogs."

///_DREAM_TRIP?

SEH ICH SO AUS ALS WÜRD ICH DAS NEM RANDO WIE DIR MITTEILEN WOLLEN!? -tries to stay calm- — "Just be somewhere alone with my soldier visiting several spots in Europe. Where is none of your business." — I would love to show Thyjs where I've grown up and played as a kid. Back then life was easy and carefree. I would love to see Amsterdam. Love to travel up to Sweden or Norway and see the Aurora Borealis, have a great look at the stars as Night City's massive lighting during the night blocks nearly ever star up there. I miss Berlin and the clubbing there. Want to go back and lay down onto the old tarmac at Tempelhof. Explore old ruins along the Rhein and I want to do it all with my soldier.

///_FAVORITE_FICTIONAL_CHARACTER?

"None. Don't read. Not much of a tv or movie fan either." — I wasn't allowed to read or watch anything that has to do with 'fandom' as it was only distraction and nonsense. I was told TV programs are there to keep people dumb and busy from looking away from what happens in the world and from edjucating themselves. But once I met V and he did his 80s retro movie nights I liked Indiana Jones a lot.

///_NUMBER_OF_BLANKET_YOU_SLEEP_WITH?

"Next question!" — Only one blanket and Thyjs in between. At least for a bit because we separate fast as the heat, our bodies emmit, becomes too much waking us up all the time. But I love to fall asleep with him this way. He calms me and it's like he pushes Beast into a corner, silences it for a while just by his presnece. No one else is able to do that.

///_RANDOM_FACT?

"What would you do if I told you I am a cyberpsycho?" — -stares at you with a steady gaze and bared teeth- Now, pack your things an go before it gets worse. I'm holding back already.

—

tagging:

@imaginarycyberpunk2023, @elvenbeard, @morganlefaye79, @ouroboros-hideout, @aggravateddurian, @dreamskug, @wraithsoutlaws, @gloryride @cherryrockpops and @streetkid-named-desire

as always not a must and idk if u been tagged already or not, but feel free to do anytime, especially if you got more blorbos than one!

[viaviv124]

The write-out to lyrics i said i'll do

Worte, die mich stachen,

(Words that stabbed me)

- Lamb being degraded as they're prepared as sacrifice

werden dann zu jenem Blut, das auf meinem Weiß dann ruht

(will then turn into the blood that rests on my white)

- Lamb covered in blood after striking down heretics or a bishop

Hey, weißt du noch, wie's sich anfühlt,

(Hey, do you still remember how it feels like)

- Lamb sitting in the Gateway, in the hand of a still chained Narinder, seeming not as cheerful but more thoughtful

das Gefühl sich was zu nehm, um’s zu geben anderswem?

(the feeling to take something to give it to someone else?)

- Lamb looking at Narinders face, momentarily pictures from harvesting bones from both crusades and dead followers before it fades to black

Doch, doch, doch, doch wird es w��ssrig

(But, But, But, But it'll get watery)

- Each "But" is a flash of Lamb's life, turning from a sacrifice to a leader, the last bit is them entering their cult

Und auch wenn ich es kau kommt der Geschmack nich

(and even if i chew the taste won't come)

- Lamb going into the Temple

Ist es nutzlos, interessiert’s nicht

(is it usless, it's not of interest)

- pride sin ritual

Dies und das ist doch vollkomm nutzlos, ohne Sinn bloß

(This and that is utterly usless, without reason)

- Some followers express their concern with the ritual

Denn ob Ja ob nein gar, am End da, zählt nur wie du es sagst

(because if yes or no, in the end it only counts how you say it)

- Lamb seems a bit taken a back at first before smiling and reassuring them

Throw Down

- Lambs smile in the cult turns into a rather uneasy expression in the Gateway

Kein Jemand ist wem anders gleich

(No one is the same as the other)

- Lamb in the Gateway, telling Narinder about the cult when Narinder tried to ease their worries amd guilt

Auch sein Wert kann nie der eines Andren sein

(and their worth can never be the same as another's)

- the lamb makes a motion as if to hold something that's steadily getting bigger

Throw Down

- segway back into the cult

Vergleichend welchen Wert was hält

(Comparing which has what worth)

- Lamb looking at a damned follower overtaken by sin, other followers are horrified and some even injured

und dies entscheidend dann, stech ich die Verzweiflung in den Tod

(and with that decision i'll stab the despair to death)

- Lamb gets this shadow over their eyes as they kill the damned follower

Es gibt sicher ganz genau so viele Wahrheiten wie’s Leben gibt

(Surely there's as many truths as are there lifes)

- Lamb in the gateway, showing and overlooking their cult from a perfectly created illusion of it Narinder holds in his hands

Nun beginnt das Ende auch schon, ist es fertig, werd auch ich erlöst, nicht wahr?

(Now the end finally begins, is it finished i'll gain salvation, won't i?)

- Lamb looks up at Narinder and smiles painfully

Nun schließ deine Augen ohne Hast,

(Now close your eyes without haste)

- Narinder pets Lambs head in a comforting manner as good as he can

dann sieh dort vor dir deine Last

(and picture your baggage)

- Lamb hugs one of Narinders fingers tightly for comfort

und wünsche dir ein Selbst, das um zu helfen existiert

(and wish for a self that exists to help)

- Narinder comforting Lamb fades to Lamb back in the cult, looking back at the entrance

Egal, denn wer immer kommen mag, den gleichen Ausdruck ich immer trag

(No matter who keeps coming, i'll wear ever the same expression)

- Followers come to greet Lamb, Lamb smiles at them

Und grade weil ich’s nicht versteh hab ich auch keine Angst, so kommt’s mir vor

(And exactly because i don't understand i'm not scared, it seems to me)

- Lamb looking back at the door that in the end leads to Narinder

Throw Down

- Lamb killing Leshy

Moral ist doch nur Illusion

(Moral is just an illusion)

- Lamb wipes blood off their face back to after they killed the damned follower

Und selbst wenn das Morgen kommt, die Sünde bleibt

(and even if tomorrow comes, the sin remains)

- Lamb carries the body away with a heavy heart

Throw Down

- Lamb killing Heket, the view a bit more distorted

Wenn solch Gefühle, kalt und fahl,

(If such feelings, cold and muted)

- Lamb is inside the Temple, looking outside a window watching the cult with an empty look

in mir verbleiben gar, ob ich so dann wirklich sterben kann

(stay within me, if i can really die then)

- Lamb looking at their hands and clean clenching them into a fist

Throw Down

- Lamb killing Kallimar, even more distorted

Das Jemanden von Jemandem kombinieren

(combining the someone from someone)

- Lamb is harvesting bones from the dead, damned follower

Ist das, was dich am Leben hält

(is what keeps you alive)

- resurection ritual

Throw Down

- Lamb killing Shamura, very distorted

Die Einladung verbindlich ist

(The invitation being binding)

- Lamb extends their hand with a friendly to indoctrinate someone they found

und drum betrüg ich sie indem ich mit Hoffnung sie ersetz

(and that's why i betray them by replacing it with hope)

- Lamb smiles at the new follower the new follower as they lead them in the Temple where they get sacrificed

Throw Down

- Lamb enters gateway for the finale

Genug jetzt ist genug,

(Enough it's enough now)

- Narinder demands for the crown

denn loslassen kann ich nicht

(because i can't let go)

- Lamb holds the crown ans tenses up, their eyes turning red

Darum vergib mir bitte nicht

(So please don't forgive me)

- Lamb has tears in their eyes as they smile at Narinder, the crown turning into a sword

Und deshalb wünsch ich das End herbei für mich

(And that's why i wish for my end)

- Lamb gets in battle with Narinder

Throw Down

- Lamb lets themself be killed by Narinder, smile as they die, as the music fades out they close their eyes before as fades to black

Throwdown by Deco*27 & Rockwell (MILGRAM)

German Translyrics by Lolina

German ver

Original

[cornchrunchie]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I'm very excited you tagged me in this, @all-my-worlds-a-stage and @fallingforfandoms! I really enjoy reading the answers from all of you.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

109, which makes around 12 stories per year. Fun fact!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

360,182, which is about the total word count of C.S. Lewis’ seven-book Chronicles of Narnia series. Fun fact #2!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Tatort Münster. Like 99.9 % mostly. I think I have only one story posted on AO3 for a different fandom (Knives Out), though I don’t post everything I write. As you might have guessed from my recent content on this blog, I’ve also started a fic for Good Omens. We will see if I will finish it, let alone post it.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unsurprisingly, the fic for Knives Out has the most Kudos. Less niche than the other ones :)

Tonight Will be a Memory Too – Knives Out, Benoit Blanc/Phillip It's part of Evelyn's job at the musical theater to talk to guests. Once in a while, she gets to meet truly fascinating people. A glimpse into Benoit's and Phillip's life through the eyes of an outsider.

Ein Leben lang daheim – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne Auf der Fortbildung, die sie besuchen, gibt es einen Coronafall und Thiel und Boerne müssen präventiv zwei Wochen lang in Quarantäne.

Schnee von gestern – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne, co-written with Tjej Es wird Rum gemacht und es wird rumgemacht.

Tauchen ist wie Fliegen unter Wasser – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne Im Münsteraner Schwimmbad kommt vor hunderten von Zuschauern eine junge Frau ums Leben. Doch die Ermittlungen gestalten sich für Thiel nicht nur aufgrund der widersprüchlichen Hinweise als schwierig …

Zuhause – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne, co-written with Tjej Thiel ließ ihn gar nicht erst ausreden. Auch wenn das für ihn vielleicht ungewöhnlich war, aber er hatte sich eigentlich schon Pläne für die Feiertage gemacht. „Danke für das Angebot, aber ich wollte mal wieder nach Hause fahren.“

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do! I try to answer every single one, even if it might take me a while to do so. Comments mean a lot to me and I appreciate when someone takes the time to write one. I'm especially fond of those short comment conversations, and the interaction with like-minded people. I made some friends that way.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write a lot of angst and if I do, there will probably be at least a comforting ending. One of my rare fics, if not the only one, with angst throughout is Alles (Tatort Münster, Thiel & Boerne with hints of possible slash). Even after several years, I still like this one a lot.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, what exactly does happiest mean, right? The great majority of my fics end with two people getting together, a storyline that tends to be quite happy in itself. One fic I consider to have a very happy ending where there is no direct romance to the plot is Ein Tännlein aus dem Walde (Tatort Münster). It's with almost everybody on the team, so a lot of Found Family feelings. I guess the Christmas theme, the high spirits of everybody and this feeling of... content make this a very happy fic to me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I can't remember any hate, so I guess this is a No.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Depends on the fic but sometimes I do. I've written explicit and less explicit stuff alike. It's been a while since I last wrote something explicit, though.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I've never written a crossover. I rarely read them, too.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If so, I haven't noticed.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

None that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

As it becomes clear through my top fics: Yes, several and in different ways! I've co-written some fics where we took turns in writing, some where one person wrote the beginning and the other person completed the story, some where we brainstormed together and one person wrote most of it by themselves. I really enjoy writing with another person! The discussions, different ideas and chances to read parts I haven't written keep me excited about the story. It's like a series of prompts!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I would have to lie to say that it wasn't Thiel/Boerne from Tatort Münster. They were the first ship I can remember shipping (apart from Ernie and Bert, maybe) and even though I don't agree with everything done in the canon, I hold them close to my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I once started writing a Groundhog-Day-inspired fic for Tatort Münster where Boerne relives the same day over and over again and thinks it's about a murder case when it's actually about, shocked noises, love. The idea is still interesting to me but I doubt I will find the motivation to properly plot this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Something that comes relatively easy to me and what people tend to highlight in their comments is the dialogues I write. I think they're what I like best about many of my stories.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not good at writing quickly, as I tend to overthink. And it’s difficult for me to keep the right tempo of telling the story, and having a conclusive story arch, especially in long fics. I sometimes feel like I randomly elaborate on parts of the fic rather than actually think about it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If it suits the story, why not. I don’t think I have done it yet, though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tatort Münster :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

This one is hard. Of course, my writing style changed over the years (developed, I should hope) but I still feel very fond of most of my stories. If I absolutely have to pick a favorite, it might be Tauchen ist wie Fliegen unter Wasser (Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne). It took me about five years to finish this story and I am proud of all the love and work I put into it. Coming up with the murder crime, making it interesting and connecting it to the romance of Thiel and Boerne was challenging, and I am happy with how it turned out. The fic still means a lot to me.

This was so much fun! Props to everybody who read this far.

I think most people I know have already done this by now, so feel free to ignore: @cricrithings @holly-hop @keinbutterdieb @khalaris and anybody else that feels like it!

[lichtecht]

Character ask: Mona Egerland 💖

mona my beloved !! 💖

1: sexuality headcanon tbh i don’t have a specific one. all i know is that she is transgender

2: otp i don’t really ship her with anyone in particular. not romantically at least. see below

3: brotp her and jonathan <3 i think it’s pretty much canon that he was her first „real“ friend (in the way that she couldn’t be fully herself with her other friends)

4: notp tbh. her and jonathan in a romantic way. it’s not my thing, at least in a a way where they’re actually romantically in love and in a typical amatonormative relationship. i think they should be besties who have something kinda weird going on

5: first headcanon that pops into my head likes to inline skate but doesn’t have as much time for it now also i guess i could use this as an opportunity to elaborate on how i see their dynamic?? ahem. i think they should be friends first and foremost. but i also believe that for a variety of reasons (social pressure that a friendship between a boy and a girl has to turn romantic, mistaking different feelings for romantic ones, whatever) they WOULD definitely experiment with each other. like im pretty sure they’d be each other’s first kiss. and i think they would be dating for a while. to the agony of martin probably but to be quite honest i cannot see that working out. there would always be something feeling not quite right about their relationship and all the classic Things That People Do When They Are Dating™ would never feel fully genuine and more like something done out of obligation cause Thats What You Do i think. in the end. they are truly better off if their relationship is not romantic.

6: favorite line from this character oh NO i cannot remember one … wait let me check the movie ... probably „Manchmal denk ich schon das sind meine Kinder, weil ich eigentlich nie ohne sie wegkann“. einfach super ausschlaggebender satz. man erfährt in der szene, wo sie und jonathan ihren geburtstag feiern, sowieso super viel über mona. sie redet die ganze zeit immer nur ein paar sätze, hier spricht sie viel mehr

7: one way in which I relate to this character hmmm. da fällt mir gar nicht so richtig was ein. war früher auch in einem tanzkurs an der schule, gilt das?

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character eigentlich nichts. höchstens wie sie mit jonathan über kreuzkamm redet, als der von den externen gefangen gehalten wird

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave? neither of these categories really fit her

[character ask game]

[smute]

i would kill to know what the first movie was that i watched in the theaters. i know for a fact that i saw tarzan in 1999 but that definitely wasnt my first. ive been going through lists of 90s kids movies but they're useless if i cant remember which ones i saw where. or when. like i know i must have watched babe (1995) a hundred times but i doubt that my parents took their 3 year old to the movies lmaooooo. chances are it was some obscure german release and not a hollywood production tbh. das sams kam 2001 raus and i saw that with my grandma. pünktchen und anton war auch erst 1999 and im not even sure i watched it tbh. maybe it was 101 dalmatians (1996) but as a 4 year old....? i dont know. but i do have early memories of glenn close and i was obsessed with dogs. OMG VIELLEICHT WAR ES SUSI UND STROLCH DER FILM IST ZWAR VON 1955 ABER IN DEUTSCHLAND KAM ER ERST 1997 RAUS? zeitlich würde das voll passen. aber an den film kann ich mich gar nicht erinnern dhdhhd GOD this does not matter at all but it is frustrating

[lunelicmoone]

// dreamsmp, roleplay, FICITONAL CHARACTERS!

Wilbur.. really likes seeing Quackity in his clothes. He thinks this whole.. feeling.. started when Quackity stole his hat once.

Wilbur doesn't know why he did it, to be honest. Quackity never told him.

Everyone was just walking back home from another debate (that went absolutely nowhere, as per usual), when Wilbur's head suddenly felt cold.

Reaching up to touch his hair, he heard a snicker from behind him.

Turning, he saw familiar dark eyes with a mischievous glint staring back at him.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you take my hat?"

Quackity just smirked and shrugged at him.

..Okay. A different approach, then.

"..Can I have it back?"

"When I'm done with it, yeah."

Okay, 1: Fuck does he mean, "when I'm done with it"? What the hell is he gonna do with it?

And 2: That approach wasn't different at all. Wilbur had planned for a more, "Give it back to me or I'll push you off this fucking path in the sky." approach, y'know? Plus, why is he asking for his own hat back? Well, he actually might have an answer for that one.

2 answers, actually.

It's either because he wasted all of his energy yelling at Quackity, or because.. he looked kinda c- yeah, no. We're not doing this today. Wilbur's just uh- um. Tired! Tired, yeah. Yelling and debating and everything equals exhaustion, you know? Ha.. God.

Turning around with a roll of his eyes, he was downright embarrassed to cope with the fact that butterflies were forming in his stomach.

Fucking- why does he feel like this?

Big Q wears hats all the time.

His beanie (stupid thing slips off all the time and makes extra strands of hair fall into q's stupid face. dude refuses to take off his beanie in front of anyone, so he'll just sit there while occasionally blowing hair away from his face. it's stupid. he's stupid.), George's random supreme hat, Sapnap's bandana (don't know if that counts as a hat, but whatever.)-- hell, Q's even stole Tommy's little decoy tricorn hat that he sewed himself and he didn't feel shit. Nothing. Nada. Niets. Gar nichts.

He doesn't-

Oh.

Aha.. oh.

His face scrunched up and.. reddened.

Jesus Christ, Wilbur just liked seeing Quackity in his shit, huh?

..

Deep down, he knew he was fucked at that point.

But, he decided to lie to himself for just a while longer.

~

Skip to a month later, and things are different.

Cigarettes aren't as bad as Phil made them out to be when Wilbur was a kid, JSchlatt is around and good lord does he want him gone, and Technoblade's here.

Oh yeah, Wilbur and Tommy have also been exiled from their own country and are now living in a hole in the ground.

Quackity is here too, but he wishes there was better context behind his stay. Let's say Schlatt is not only a shitty person in general, but he's also a shitty fucking partner. Thank gods that Quackity finally stuck up for himself and decided to join their little commune.

A few days have passed, and Quackity has started complaining about how bad his clothes smelled.

"Why didn't you bring a change of clothes with you?" Wilbur had asked one night.

Quackity narrowed his eyes at him. "Well, sorry that my first instinct after shooting my fiancé through the chest and thinking about how I could possibly be hunted down by fucking Punz wasn't to take my sweet time packing a suitcase."

..Right so, he knows that probably wasn't the best question to ask, but c'mon. Wilbur didn't even know he did all of that until now. He just thought Tommy bumped into him one day and just- *sigh* whatever. Anyway,

Wilbur eventually asked if Quackity wanted to just wear his clothes instead.

He didn't ask, actually. Well, not initially.

He just went through his quaint little chest that was tucked in the corner of his room, pulled out some clothes and just dropped them down on the bed next to where Quackity was sitting.

That's when he asked.

Despite Q's protests, ("I don't wanna wear your itchy fucking scarecrow clothes, man." wilbur remembers him saying.) he went through them anyway.

After pulling out a white t-shirt and some gray cuffed sweats (wilbur tried to ignore q's snort when he pulled them out), Quackity looked up at Wilbur and raised his eyebrow.

"So, are you gonna like, watch me change or are you gonna leave? I personally enjoy the former, but you can do whatever."

Wilbur felt heat rise to his cheeks before quickly turning around.

..It took him a couple seconds to actually leave the room, though. Please don't ask him what he was thinking about.

When Wilbur walks in the room moments later while Quackity's in the process of tightly tying the drawstrings on his sweats (if he walked in while q was actually changing, he probably would've passed out right there and then), a familiar thought pops back into his head.

"Wilbur just liked seeing Quackity in his shit, huh?"

..He still isn't entirely convinced. This is just one occurrence. Quackity's gonna eventually get Tubbo to drop off some of his clothes from Manberg, and Wilbur will just realize that it was just that one time.

..

But on one hazy night after a party where Quackity returns from a shower while wearing one of his shirts, Wilbur comes to terms with a fact that he used to oh-so desperately push away from his mind.

Okay, yeah. Fine.

Wilbur really likes seeing Quackity in his clothes.

EXTRA NOTES:

@medium-kat07 - here's the tag you asked for!

Also! the pogtopia section was inspired by @ace-of-tnt's ao3 fic!

Really hope you guys enjoyed! I was gonna add a Ghostbur + Las Nevadas part to this, but I honestly couldn't really think of anything. Plus, the ending of the Pogtopia section seemed to tie it up nicely.

This also ended up being like 900 words I'm gonna--

[magistralucis]

🦆🔥🦆 I really love the way you talk about Tillchard. It's so different from what we can read elsewhere, it's quite a welcome change. You have a very unique perspective on them and it shows in your writing, be it in answering questions or in your own fics. What do you think of the "Let's Go" song? Of the way it was recorded? It's such a sweet song, friendship love letters like that one are too rare in the music world!

The thing I like best about ‘Let’s Go’ is how uncomplicated it is. How straightforward. Not that I dislike complicated, R+’s complexity is what got me into them in the first place - but ‘Let’s Go’ encapsulates, for me, a rather unusual way for Till and/or Richard to have done things.

I think a lot of R+’s appeal comes from dissonance. There’s spectacle, yes, and the excellent poetry, powerful music, generous amounts of mindfuck, and the constant appeal to fans. But rather than those factors in isolation, I think the actual charm comes from how those things interact with each other - and the band members seldom let them do so directly. They take Verfremdungseffekt to its logical extreme, almost every time. That’s how we regularly end up with combinations like ‘a song about an extremely mundane problem + ultraviolent music video featuring Lenin heads that weep blood’, or ‘a song about horrific assault + flake having an absolute ball dancing around’, or ‘a serious commentary on immigration and the displacement of peoples, and the hypocrisy they face from developed nations + sexy poppy holiday retreat’. They might delight us, confuse us, maybe even repulse us somewhat - but it sticks in the mind, and it always leaves room for thought.

‘Let’s Go’ isn’t like that. I wonder if it’s not one of Till and Richard’s most honest moments in the studio; honest, not only in the way they wrote and sung of their friendship, but honest as in what we heard is exactly what they wanted to convey. To the listeners, and to each other. Richard has stated his intent was to convey his relationship with Till, and that the music was written as a homage to their shared past, and that intent comes through perfectly.

From the lyrical side of things, ‘Let’s Go’ is a dialogue. It’s Till’s solo verse that really makes it, imo. Richard sings about himself (’I find myself scratching at the bottom’), then Till responds (‘Du musst mir gar nichts sagen’, ‘you don’t need to say anything to me’), and outlines the relation they have (‘Zwei Herzen [...] eins ist deins und eins ist mein’, ‘two hearts [...] one is yours and one is mine’). The first-person plural, in other words, the ‘we/us’. This is the subject which is then maintained for the rest of the song, for the chorus and all of the second verse (’Remember back to where we started’).

As far as conversations go, this is all very straightforward. There’s no dissonance here. The music is mellow, the lyrics are equally as mellow and sincere, and they sing in a way that conveys that perfectly. It’s not what one conventionally expects of Rammstein (rightfully so), and if you don’t have Tillchard lenses on, it might even be wholly unremarkable. But it’s a good song, imo. I like to think it was made for each other, because it shows all the hallmarks of sending each other a heartfelt message, and maybe that’s all that matters. I don’t know if that made any sense, but that’s my feelings about the song 💖

[glassprism]

May I ask after your opinion on Janne Marie Peters's Elisabeth, if any? Personally, I was struck by how sorta flinchy and skittish her Sisi was (especially paired with Mann's surprisingly cold FJ portrayal, I never belived he really loved her at all)— almost like she was being physically abused? But on all other fronts I felt like she ended up being like all the other SE Elisabeths, though I appreciated her "Nichts, nichts, gar nichts" and some intermittent bits of her latter portrayal. Would love to hear your thoughts on it!

Ooh, an Elisabeth review, haven’t done one of those in a while.

I can definitely see what you meant by “skittish”, as Janne Marie Peters had several moments of that, especially around Franz Josef. There could be a few reasons for that: perhaps she was trying to show Sisi’s more fragile, sensitive nature, or maybe it was in reaction to the portrayal of Franz Josef, or maybe it was her way of showing that she was subconsciously aware that Franz Josef is not the one for her, Sisi/Tod OTP all the way!!!!!

I kind of write the last because this is Stage Entertainment and they are all about playing up the romance, dammit, and playing down anything resembling complexity, but I’m open to it being the first two reasons. If the first is Peters’s intent, then good for her for trying to bring a little of what we know of the historical Elisabeth‘s personality into the musical, and if it’s the second, well, I can’t blame her. As you said, Maximilian Mann’s Franz Josef is standoffish to the point of being cold, and even his smiles looked obligatory. If I were being charitable, I’d say that maybe he’s trying to show Franz Josef’s more serious, responsible nature, or I’d blame direction and say they’re trying to show his and Sisi’s relationship as untenable, but boy did it make me wonder what Sisi saw in the guy enough to marry him.

Still, in most other respects, yeah, she wasn’t that memorable and felt all too much like a clone of Annemieke van Dam, vocally and in her acting. (Also, remember when German Elisabeths actually sounded different from each other? I’m so tired of shrill, nasal Elisabeths with their little-girl voices.) Some good moments, just enough to make me think, “Hmm, there’s some potential here,” but not enough to differentiate her from the crowd of other actresses. And like many of them, I did not buy her older Elisabeth.

Also, love that the tour was continuing the trend of swamping their actresses in their own costumes:

Sure do love to see that! I mean, it is better than what they did to Marle Martens or Roberta Valentini, but still, bleh.

And boy, it really says something, either about the production or my own feelings towards the show, that I was just so bored watching this boot and waiting for it to be over.

[philosophyunbound]

Hin|Fort Bewegung - Call Philosophy Unbound #29

Call Philosophy Unbound #29

Hin|Fort Bewegung

--English version below --

Vieles bewegt, vieles kann eine Bewegung ausmachen: Von physikalischen Erklärungsmodellen der Ortsveränderung, über körperliche Aktivität, bis hin zu sozialen und politischen Bewegungen. – Und unser Denken? Bewegen wir uns, wenn wir erinnern und wahrnehmen, oder gar nur, wenn wir fühlen, und, metaphorisch gesprochen, von der Emotion “bewegt” werden? Und wenn die Gedanken uns bewegen, wohin? Darf ich zappeln beim Schreiben? Sollten wir, im Sinne einer Nomadologie, von der Bewegung als Norm ausgehen? Und was verändert sich, wenn wir auf einem statischen Weltbild aufbauen? Betrifft uns auch die Bewegung der Anderen? Wie ist die Art, wie wir uns bewegen, durch unsere Umwelt, durch die sozialen und kulturellen Normen, in die uns umgeben, vorgegeben? Was stößt uns an, uns aus unserer ruhenden Position zu bewegen? Wann und wovon wollen wir nicht bewegt werden, und mit welchem Recht? Wie, und vor allem in welche Zukunft, wollen wir uns bewegen? Und wie kommen wir dort hin? 

Bitte schickt uns eure Ideen für Performances, Lectures, Installationen, Filme, Bilder, Skulpturen, Interventionen etc. zu diesen und allen anderen Fragen, die durch diesen Call in euch angestoßen wurden, bis zum 20. Juli 2021 an philosophyunbound@gmail.com. Philosophy Unbound #29 findet am 21. August 2021 den ganzen Tag über im F23 in Wien statt. Darüber hinaus besteht die Möglichkeit, eingereichte Beiträge ab dem 13. August in einer Ausstellung zu zeigen. Wir freuen uns, für diese Veranstaltung mit dem Rhizomatic Circus Collective, der One Mess Gallery (OMG) und Untere Willkyr zu kooperieren!  

Wir sind gespannt auf eure Ideen! 

Call Philosophy Unbound #29

Hin|Fort Bewegung

Many things move, many things can constitute a movement: ranging from physical explanatory models of change of place and bodily activity to social and political movements. And our thinking? Do we move when we remember and perceive, or when we feel, and, metaphorically speaking, are "moved" by emotion? If our thoughts move us, where to? Am I allowed to fidget when I write? Should we, in the sense of a nomadology, start from movement as the norm? And what changes when we build on a static world view? Does the movement of others also affect us? How is the way we move predetermined by our environment, by the social and cultural norms that surround us? What nudges us to move from our resting position? When and by what do we not want to be moved, and with what right? How, and especially into what future, do we want to move? And how do we get there?

Please send us your ideas for performances, lectures, installations, films, paintings, sculptures, interventions etc. regarding these and all other questions that have been triggered in you by this call to philosophyunbound@gmail.com by July 20th 2021. Philosophy Unbound #29 will take place on 21 August 2021 at F23 in Vienna. In addition, there is the possibility to show submitted contributions in an exhibition from August 13th. We are happy to cooperate with Rhizomatic Circus Collective, One Mess Gallery (OMG) and Untere Willkyr for this event!  

We are looking forward to your ideas!

[ofbjoe]

Juxtaposition and Derivation (english version)

“Una and Leofric should be asleep now.” Astrid’s hushed voice is barely audible as she comes around the shabby house that saw Bren grow and goes to stand near the road. “No one’s coming.”

“Don’t say their name out loud.”  Eadwulf’s low growl rings behind him. “They’re traitors. They don’t deserve a name.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to confront them before we end this, Bren?”  she asks. “For closure?” 

“The cart is over there,”  Bren says instead of anything that could be misinterpreted. “Wulf, a hand?” 

“Already on it.” 

They pull the creaking cart out of the shed and bring it to the front of the house to block the only entrance. The two boys step back, panting. At least, Bren is; physical effort never was his strong suit. 

He glances at Eadwulf looking towards his house, towards their last mission for the night. He is rubbing his hands and arms, and Bren is not sure if it’s because of the scars from Master Ikithon’s experiment a few days ago or if he remembers their… first stop of the night. It has been gruesome. 

Bren knows he must do it too, for the good of the Empire, but part of him wants to ask Eadwulf if it was difficult to watch his own flesh and blood die at his own hands. But he decides against it: there’s a trace of confusion and grief and anger in Eadwulf’s eyes, but when he notices Bren staring, it’s gone. 

“You ready?” 

Bren nods. “Yeah.”

His hand is shaking as he makes the flame appear. He closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out. 

He is quick but methodical. First, the pile of firewood by the east wall. Second, the roof, covered in hay to make it burn quickly. Third, the windows and doors to block the exits.

The smoke starts to billow. Bren steps back, looking at his work. 

A strong hand squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. Another, more delicate, alights on his hip. 

“You made the right choice,”  Astrid says. 

“For the Empire,”  Eadwulf states. 

“For the Empire,”  he echoes. 

The flames are self-feeding now. It’s only a matter of time until—

-----

The roof is bright with flames and he hears more than he sees the first beam yield: the crack is covered by the muted roar of the flames, but the spurt of embers and burning hay it sends flying, rising towards the night sky like thousands and thousands of fireflies, captures his eyes and imagination. 

A vertigo. 

The day has been long helping his father with the crops, and every single muscle hurt, even those he didn’t realize he had. They’re a little short this month, and even though he would very much like to read a book, he knows they have to be frugal with the candles and they can’t read into the night anymore. Which explains Bren’s presence on the front step a few hours after sundown. It’s summer, fireflies’ season. A lazy and lovely and bored evening, looking up at the clear sky splashed with stars.

His mother joins him, sits beside him, and pats her laps. As the almost teenager he is, Bren hesitates, but lies down. She tangles a hand in his hair as they watch the sky in silence.  

“You see that one?”  she says pointing up. 

“The fireflies?” 

“No, silly! Farther away.” 

“The stars?” 

“That’s a planet, that one.” 

“Another place?” 

“Yeah,” she smiles. 

He hums, contemplates the possibilities. 

“And this,”  she adds mischievously, “this is the constellation of the Big Spoon.” 

“Don’t lie to me, mom. I’m too old for this…” 

“ And right next to it is the little spoon!” 

“MOM!” 

“ Not too old for that one, are you?”  she snickers before starting to hum a Zemnian lullaby, her voice, lilting but slightly off-key, drifting him to sleep. He takes her hand, presses a kiss on the back of it and closes his eyes. 

“We should move,” Astrid says. Bren blinks off the vertigo.

There’s shuffling inside the house by now. Panicked barks and yells as his parents realize the situation. Bren frowns. The hand on his shoulder squeezes. A delicate hand slips in his, and tugs. He follows without resistance. 

He looks at the house, at his own quarters upstairs now engulfed in flames. He can picture the door frame where, once a year, his father noted his growth with a small mark and where he himself once tried to do so with an already-adult and annoyed Frumpkin. That door frame must already be crushed by the beam by now. 

 There is a cat at the window, staring at him disapprovingly, calm as ever. 

Bren blinks. The cat is gone. 

Bren blinks a few more times. Was there a cat? He feels like there shouldn’t be a cat in there. He can’t remember why. 

He stops. 

He can’t remember why. 

Him. 

The screams start to pierce through his skull.

“Bren?”

Something in his mind starts to fissure.

-----

“ You asked to see me, Master Ikithon?” 

“Yes, yes I did, Bren. So, how did your little trip to Blumenthal go? Did you see your parents?”

“It went well, Master. They ah… They’re very thankful that I was offered the opportunity to serve the Empire. But ah… they seem worried about me that is.”

“You seem... troubled.”

“Do I?”

“You do. Does your family cause you worry?”

“Well, I miss my family and they miss me in kind. I haven’t been with them for Harvest Close for the third year in a row.”

“Not everyone understands what it means to offer their life for their country. But is that all that bothers you?”

He thinks about telling Trent that he had just learnt about the death of his childhood cat, but decides against it: it is not something worthy of Master Ikithon’s time.

“One night, as they thought I was asleep, I overheard them talking about me. Father thought [REDACTED] and… and Mother, she said she… she [REDACTED].”

“Those sound like very dangerous and very unpatriotic thoughts.”

“And then, they [REDACTED].”

Master Ikithon stays quiet, his gaze so severe and intense Bren had to look down. His jaundiced hands are almost immobile on the table. The silence is almost deafening against his inner turmoil, but Ikithon seems to not even notice the heaviness of the air. Bren has to break it.

“I don’t understand I—They know the Empire is keeping us safe… How could they?”

That… that doesn’t seem like something his parents could think, could say, could do…

“Often, the enemy is closer than we think,” Ikithon says. “Traitors and revolutionaries often live inside the Empire they mooch off like leeches.”

“How could I be so blind? All my life I…”

“It is dreadful news, you must feel quite ashamed.” Ikithon leans over the table towards him, ever so slightly. “What do you plan to do about this?”

Bren feels the anger flare up.

“I will do what it takes to keep the Empire safe.”

Ikithon says nothing, but the beginning of a smirk makes its way to his lips. He leans back, calm as ever. 

“You seem tired. Sleep on it. Bring me Astrid as you get out.”

“Bren?” Astrid says. “ Are you alright?” 

He looks up.

Two silhouettes pounding on the window. 

-----

“A kitten!” 

“I found him hidden in the chicken pen,” his father says. “ His mother doesn’t seem to be around.” 

“Leofric, is it really—” 

“Can we keep him?”  Bren asks.

There’s a smug look on Leofric’s face as he turns to his wife. 

“You always worry Bren will grow up lonely without a brother or a sister. I think we can afford a cat, Una.” 

“Dad, you’re the best!” 

“I love you too, little bear.” 

“They’re inside…”  he mumbles.

“Yeah. That’s the point. Remember?”

-----

The muscles locked in place. 

The high-pitch whistle in the ears, overwhelming everything else. 

The cold, the void, the suffocation.

His parents’ screams. 

It starts as a whimper, a groan. It then bellows into a howl. 

A scream he can feel passing through in his own body.

A scream that will never leave him, that he will always hear when he closes his eyes.

He opens his mouth in a yowl without hearing himself.

“Pull yourself together!”  Eadwulf orders. “ Shit! You’re gonna wake up the whole Zemni Fields!”

“If Master Ikithon learns you got cold feet…” Astrid tries to hush him.

“We can’t let them burn! They’re… I…”

“Bren!”

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Bren! Stay!”

“Mom! Dad!”

“Bren, what are you doing!”

“Wulf, catch him! He’s gonna burn if he gets there!”

“Damn shit!” 

His mother’s very unsubtle ways of asking if anyone from the capital had caught his eye yet. The red of his ears when he tried, and failed, to convince her to drop it.

“Geh mir aus dem Weg, Wulf! Ich muss—!”

His parents laughing and kissing on the front porch after they thought Bren had gone to sleep, leaving their initials in the dust like teenagers.

“Verräter sind Verräter. Werd nicht weich.” 

“Bren, sei vernünftig—” 

“Ich sagte ‘fass mich nicht an! ’” 

The fear of the blade the first time he shaved. The steady hand of his father showing him the ropes. His mother’s peck on his cheek afterward.

“Ahh!”

“Astrid! Das war’s, du gehst nirgendwo hin, Kumpel.” 

A tall and dark shadow framed by reddish light. Fixed dark blue eyes, shining cold against the flames. Almost inhuman.

The fearful smile of his mother when his father managed to scare off a bear threatening to ravage their apple tree. 

Another loud thud. The house ablaze, looming, breathing out a splash of fireflies.

The joyful tear of his stoic father when Bren was accepted at the Soltryce Academy. 

The cracking sound of Wulf’s fists and shoulders.

“ Hide this necklace, don’t tell your mother,” Father says with a giddy smile, handing him a wooden beads and tiny quartz necklace he clearly made himself for her.

Astrid’s hissing behind him. The smell of burnt flesh.

The field and the work, the sweat on his weak back. The apple tart at the end of the day. 

The pounding on the door stops.

Magic tingling at the tip of his fingers. 

“Geh mir aus dem Weg! Ich muss—!” 

“Versuch es erst gar nicht, Bren.”

The world upside down. 

The taste of cold dirt smeared on his face. 

A human warmth and weight on his back. 

Wulf’s scars itching his neck.

The dark and thick smell of rose petals mingling with the smoke.

His eyelids grow heavy.

Nothingness.

Silence. 

The end of his life as he knew it. 

[lichtecht]

this is a continuation of my thoughts from this post about justus & den nichtraucher + „married for 30 years“

i did write it at 1am and it is a whole garbled mix of english and german, but that’s how my brain works and i don’t think it conveys the same point if i try to translate it. sorry :(

something something ALMOST.

they were ALMOST something and then it was ripped away from them and they were torn apart and they lost each other.

they still wear the rings they exchanged, 30 years later.

when people notice it and ask if they’re married or ask about their wife or something like that, they always play it off and say it’s a sentimental thing, ein geschenk von einem alten bekannten. sowas in der art 

they still wear the rings they exchanged, when they were so young, so much younger than they are now, and maybe it’s too late? maybe all those years DIDN'T go by without trace, maybe everything is different now, maybe everything has changed and he doesn’t feel the same as he felt all those years ago?

but he’s still wearing the ring. 

both of them are still wearing the ring.

(something something THE LOVE IS STILL THERE SYMBOLIZED BY THE RINGS THEY GAVE EACH OTHER AS A PROMISE WHEN THAT WAS ALL THEY COULD DO, THERE WAS SO MUCH UNSAID BUT THEY GAVE EACH OTHER A SILENT PROMISE-

wait. something something johnny/martin, nachdem sie den justus und den nichtraucher zusammenbringen, am zaun - wo sie sich die hand geben und ein stummes versprechen, dass sich mit worten gar nicht ausdrücken lässt.

OH MEIN GOTT WHAT IF THE PARALLELS

something something justus/nichtraucher & johnny/martin parallels 

i never really noticed that before someone pointed out that was apparently what they were going for in the 2003 film??

but oh my god what if parallels…

i need to think about this some more.

wenn martin wie der justus ist, dann ist johnny wie der nichtraucher 

martin / justus parallels ist klar, martin hat sich den justus als vorbild genommen

und something something „der justus is everyone’s dad but especially martins and the nichtraucher is everyone’s dad but especially johnnys“ (von @is-this-taken-too-questionmark)

where was i going

right

but just imagine

der justus und der nichtraucher meet again and it’s like in the book because the book is superior which i also like because it’s so open ended. it’s so intimate. they reunite and martin and johnny immediately know to give them their space.

i also like that it was just a martin/johnny thing to plan that. in all the adaptations i’ve watched they take the whole gang with them and everyone watches.

meanwhile in the book it’s so private and intimate (like i said)

i’m just saying when you consider every adaptation the version where it made the most sense for them to kiss would be the book. because they were alone. no one else around. and we leave so anything could have happened really 

i imagine it like 

they spent quite some time catching up. crying probably. maybe not talking about feelings yet cause. you know. they just found each other again after decades. don’t wanna ruin that. 

but both of them notice the ring is still on the others hand. and they don’t bring it up because „well, ich will nichts überstürzen. das muss ja gar nichts bedeuten. i’d better not get my hopes up.“ but they both steal little glances at it while they sit in the eisenbahnwaggon and talk and drink tea.

and then they go out?

i don’t fully remember how it went, i really need to reread.

but they go out. just to the lokal the nichtraucher plays at. just as friends, of course. just as friends. even if there was something more it’d be way too dangerous in 1930s germany.

(ohh unrelated aber an dieser stelle fällt mir die szene aus dem 1954 film ein, wo die beiden auf dem nachhauseweg eine schneeballschlacht machen… unterhalten die sich im buch auch über den briefkasten, der da immer noch steht? ist das canon oder hab ich mir das ausgedacht?)

jedenfalls!! 

die ringe symbolisieren das stumme versprechen. parallels to the silent promise between johnny and martin.

dass sie die ringe nach all den jahren noch tragen ist das symbol dafür, dass sie immer noch nacheinander suchen/aufeinander warten/sich nacheinander sehnen/einander nicht vergessen können etc. -> dass sie sich immer noch lieben!!

ich denk aber grad auch, so ein ring wär vielleicht sogar ein gutes cover für einen queeren menschen zu dieser zeit? ein ehering, den er nie abnimmt und über dessen geschichte er nicht reden will? oh, der ärmste hat seine frau verloren… (hat der nichtraucher ja auch)

(da muss ich auch überlegen. der nichtraucher war ja verheiratet. die frau ist bei der geburt gestorben, wenn ich mich recht erinnere. und danach war der nichtraucher so am boden zerstört, dass er verschwunden ist. (wohin eigentlich? ich muss rereaden…)

der justus war ebenfalls am boden zerstört. 

fragt sich nur, wie mein „married for 30 years“ da reinpassen würde.

wahrscheinlich gar nicht so wirklich.

der nichtraucher war verheiratet. er liebte seine frau. (bi king.) da war schon irgendwie was mit johann, aber darüber hat er lieber nicht nachgedacht. johann was a little bit heartbroken deep inside. but he loved his friend more than he cared about his own heartache (bc i’m a sucker for this painful yearning/pining shit >:3)

years and decades later. robert returns to the town, not knowing that johann was right there. 

(did they seriously just live in the same town for years probably and never notice??)

maybe robert returned because he felt the ache too. he missed johann. and so, maybe subconsciously, maybe intentionally, he returns to the town they both went to school together. 

and he’s happy in his little eisenbahnwaggon. he befriends the kids from the internat (man, now i wanna write about how the boys and the nichtraucher became friends…). this is basically all in the book.

johann stayed in this town. (is that book accurate. check!!)

on one hand, because of his job as a teacher. you know the story. you know why that was important to him. but maybe (just maybe) he also stayed for robert? maybe he hoped they would both find their way back here after all those years?

(and they did!!)

ok thinking about people’s reactions to the ring again….

der justus ist unverheiratet. (er ist schwul)

und der nichtraucher ist zu isoliert, als dass leute oft nach dem ring fragen würden. die jungs fragen einmal, als sie zu besuch sind. und der nichtraucher erzählt, das sei ein andenken an einen alten freund, den er verloren habe. oder vielleicht sagt er sogar, er ist von einer verlorenen liebe?! keeping it genderneutral and ambiguous.

[„ach. diesen ring habe ich vor langer zeit von einer verlorenen liebe bekommen. ich kann mich einfach nicht davon trennen.“]

don’t know what the justus would say. vielleicht fragt ihn einer der jungs irgendwann: „sagen sie mal, dr bökh. ich wollte sie bloß fragen - warum tragen sie eigentlich einen ring, wenn sie nicht verheiratet sind?“

keine ahnung, wie der justus darauf antwortet. er reagiert mit einem milden lächeln und sagt etwas ähnliches wie der nichtraucher. vielleicht etwas wie „dieser ring ist ein versprechen, dass ich vor langer zeit gegeben habe.“

(side note: potential shipname; justraucher (lmao))

vielleicht figuren martin und johnny es heraus, weil sie wieder bemerken, wie die teile zusammenpassen

okay!! back on point!!

maybe it makes more sense in a 2003 movie way?

young 17-year old bob und johann in the 60s.

they give each other a promise, although they never quite kiss. and that promise is kept, even when bob runs away and leaves johann with everything in his wake.

und manchmal ist johann wirklich sauer auf robert. wie er ihn sitzen gelassen hat. und er überlegt, den ring abzunehmen- aber dann tut er es nicht. 

er ist ja auch nicht wirklich wütend auf robert. er versteht, warum er tat, was er tat. dafür kennen sie sich viel zu gut. und am meisten vermisst er ihn eigentlich. besonders wenn er den ring anguckt. aber trotzdem -oder deshalb- bleibt der ring. das ist schließlich alles, was er noch so wirklich übrig hat von bob. 

auch, wenn sein herz gebrochen wurde- dieses versprechen hat er noch. er hat es noch. an seinem finger. tag und nacht.

der punkt ist, ihm wurde das herz gebrochen. deshalb rastet er so aus, als die kinder mit dem „fliegenden klassenzimmer“ ankommen - das reißt alte wunden auf. aber vielleicht ist das ja etwas gutes…?

„ich wüsste übrigens auch gern, was los ist.“, sagt kathrin sanft, als die kinder in seinem büro stehen.

und während er erzählt, die ganze geschichte - na gut, die halbe. einige dinge kann er einfach nicht teilen - da huscht kathrins blick zu dem ring an seiner hand und verständnis spült über ihr gesicht.

(dem ring, der der grund ist, warum er keinen ehering für kathrin an die hand nehmen wollte. 

wait, what if johann/nichtraucher/kathrin und johann hat nicht nur zwei hände sondern auch zwei ringe)

und als sie sich dann wieder treffen und johann sieht, dass auch robert nach all den jahren den ring noch trägt-

da ist das ein zweites versprechen. ein versprechen, dass das erste niemals gebrochen wird.

(and yes of course they kiss. and no, the kids aren’t there, because these men deserve some privacy goddamn)

ok i think i’m done for now

how many words were that 

NOPE ANOTHER!!

»something between exes and old friends and former lovers and „married for 30 years“«

meaning:

exes : there was something back then. like there actually *was* something, not an almost. or maybe an almost? there are a lot of almosts. that’s why i’m saying „something between“

old friends : think canon. book canon. old friend.

former lovers : kinda like exes but the implications are less bitterness and more heartache because they were torn apart instead of willfully leaving.

married for 30 years : that dynamic, like they’ve known each other for a lifetime. it feels so natural, despite having been apart for 30 years.

(imagine; (not necessarily justus/nichtraucher, maybe reddie, but i’m talking about justraucher hier.

when they can finally get married at like 50 or 60; „well technically you have to add the years we were apart! we gave each other a promise, we even have rings.“ (oh my god what if they used the VERY SAME RINGS if they got married) (i’m not too much of a marriage fic fan but i could make an exception if this is good))

[wordacrosstime]

Menschen im Hotel [Grand Hotel]

[Edition reviewed: Menschen im Hotel. Vicki Baum. 2007. Kiepenheuer & Witsch ISBN 9783462037982 // First editions: // Menschen im Hotel. Vicki Baum. First published 1929. // English language title: Grand Hotel. Vicki Baum. First published 1931, Doubleday Doran & Co. New York]

A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO my esteemed friend and editor of Words Across Time, John Park, asked me if I could read and then review the original German-language version of this novel. Some of you may know that this book, originally published in 1929, was eventually made into an Academy-Award-winning film a few years later, as Grand Hotel. John told me that the English translation he read seemed a bit ‘flat’, and wondered if the original German novel (or roman, as it’s known in German) had a bit more spice to it. Since I am able to read German literature (not easily, but with perseverance and industry), I accepted the challenge. Fast-forward to today: I have finished the novel, and will give a brief summary of my impressions. Again, please note that I am referring to the original German version of this novel, and not a translation.

Menschen im Hotel literally translates to People in the Hotel. The name of the hotel is, in fact, the Grand Hotel, and is situated in this novel in the heart of post-Weimar Berlin. The first impression the reader feels when starting this novel is that appositeness of the title – while the novel does indeed deal with a number of loosely intersecting personal dramas and scenarios, the hotel is at the heart of it all. It might have just as easily been entitled Das Hotel mit Menschen – Hotel with People. Because just as all roads led to Rome in ancient times, in this story, all personal trajectories intersect with or impinge upon the Grand Hotel. There is the desperate industrialist whose latest deal is failing. There is the aging prima ballerina who believes that her time for true love has come and gone. There is the terminally-ill patron who nevertheless takes a broad observational view of what’s going on around him in the Hotel with a certain amusement and even wonder. And the list goes on.

It’s a fun and fascinating glimpse at the worldviews that pervaded Germany in the years following World War I, when the economy was collapsed and an entire society was at odds with itself and the rest of the world. And yet life must go on, as indeed it does in the Grand Hotel.

On the whole, I would say that this novel, while perhaps falling short of what we might call serious fiction in the modern sense (think authors like Kingsley Amis or Donna Tartt), is by no means a pulp fiction work. It falls solidly in the spectrum of writing exemplified, for example, by novels like Dr Zhivago by Boris Pasternak, or Stamboul Train by Graham Greene. The German is quite typical of its era, and compares favorably with novels by truly giant contemporaneous writers of fiction such as Thomas Mann or Heinrich Böll, but doesn’t dive nearly as deeply into the recesses of the human experience. Rather, it treats the Hotel as a waystation for life as lived in multiple layers of socio-economic condition, age, gender, fame (or infamy), and experience.

While reading it, I remember stumbling on a passage that I thought truly exemplified the book as a whole. I will present it in the original German, and then provide a modest and approximate translation of my own:

Alles stellt man sich höher vor, bis man's gesehen hat.  Sie kommen da angereist aus ihrem Provinzwinkel mit verdrehten Ideen über das Leben.  Grand Hotel denken Sie.  Teuerstes Hotel, denken Sie.  Gott weiß, was für Wunder Sie erwarten von so einem Hotel.  Sie werden schon merken, was los ist.  Das ganze Hotel ist ein dummes Kaff.  Genau so geht's mit dem ganzen Leben.  Das ganze Leben ist ein dummes Kaff, Herr Kringelein.  Man kommt an,  man bleibt ein bißchen, man reist ab.  Passanten, verstehense.  Zu kurzem Aufenthalt, wissense.  Was tun Sie im grossen Hotel? Essen, schlafen, herumlungern, Geschäfte machen, ein bißchen flirten, ein bißchen tanzen, wie?  Na, und was tun Sie im Leben?  Hundert Türen auf einem Gang, und keiner weiß was von dem Menschen, der nebenan wohnt.  Wennse abreisen, kommt ein andrer an und legt sich in Ihr Bett.  Schluß.  Setzense sich mal so ein paar Stunden in die Halle und sehense genau hin: aber die Leute haben ja kein Gesicht!  Sie sind nur Attrappen alle miteinander.  Sie sind alle tot und wissen's gar nicht.  Schönes Kaff, so ein großes Hotel.  Grand Hotel bella vita, was?  Na, Hauptsache:  man muß seinen Koffer gepackt haben...

“One always imagines, until one has seen (for oneself). You journey here bearing your provincial views, with twisted ideas about life. ‘Grand Hotel,’ you think. ‘Expensive hotel,’ you think. God knows what sort of wonders you await at such a hotel. You will already note what is going on. The entire hotel is a stupid dump. Exactly the way it goes with all of life. The entirety of life is a stupid dump, Mr. Kringelein. One comes here, one remains a bit, one travels on.  Passers-by, you understand. For short stays, you know. What do you do in a big hotel? Eating, sleeping, loitering, shopping, a bit of flirting, a bit of dancing, what? Well, and what do you do in life? A hundred doors in one corridor, and no one knows anything about the people who live beyond them. When you travel on, another comes and lays themselves in your bed. Enough. Sit down like that for a couple of hours in the hall and look: the people truly have no faces! They are merely dummies with each other. They are all dead, and know absolutely nothing. Beautiful dump, such a large hotel. Grand Hotel beautiful life, what? Well, the main thing is this: one must have one’s suitcase packed…”

This novel captures the post-Weimar Republic zeitgeist in microcosm, and is worth reading for that alone, if one is willing to forbear the occasional existential soliloquy as exemplified above.

Photo credits: top: Vossische Zeitung, advertisement, 4 April 1929 / Vossische Zeitung, Anzeige, 4 April 1929 / thank you to Angela M Arnold, Berlin // middle: Portrait of Vicki Baum. Collection: Theatermuseum, Vienna / Porträt Vicki Baum. Sammlung: Theatermuseum, Wien. / Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Bilddatenbank / c 1930 by Max Fenichel  (1885–1942) // bottom; Berlin, memorial plaque for Vicki Baum, Koenigsallee 45, unveiled on October 4th, 1989 / Berlin, Gedenktafel für Vicki Baum, Koenigsallee 45, enthüllt am 04.10.1989 / photograph 15 March 2008 by and thank you to Axel Mauruszat.

Kevin Gillette

Words Across Time

18 December 2020

wordsacrosstime

[gay-dragon]

just some quick thoughts on the skamfr (and druck) original seasons coming up 

i personally have never been a huge fan of skamfr, but as someone who watched skam seasons 3 and 4 live, i’m going to be avidly watching arthur’s season (at first, at least), because they may have disappointed me in the past, but you never know how you might be surprised, and i’ve been dying to get that feeling again of not knowing where the story is going for so long now

skam was known for telling really important and innovative stories, so that feeling of sheer potential, of not knowing what kind of innovative direction they were going to take next, it was amazing! i remember the time after s3 ended when we were desperate to find out who the next main was going to be, and then they dropped sana’s trailer and we lost. our. shit. because my GOD the sheer power that making her the final main had

my point is, i’d like to remind anyone who didn’t watch skam live that watching an original season live in the skam format is an incomparable experience, and remember to savour it! i’ve felt very let down by various seasons of various remakes (and even og) in the past, but right now i don’t really care because with arthur’s trailer dropping, i’m finally getting that feeling again of “holy shit, this could be so good and so important”, so i’m going to be giving it a chance

and with druck, when i was waiting for the skam s4 main announcement i believe i made a post saying “i’ll be happy whoever it is, i just want to know!!” and that’s exactly how i feel about druck s5 now, except i actually don’t mind waiting, i’ve learned to enjoy this feeling of not knowing because it is so full of potential! we know how much the people behind druck care, and how committed they are to doing their research, to telling important stories (might i remind you of “so oder gar nichts”). so the potential there is enormous and personally I cannot wait to see what they are going to come up with

anyways, please excuse my absolute rant, thank you for coming to my TED talk and let’s get hyped for finally getting the exciting feeling of a fresh new stories with loads of potential again (i always thought the remakes should have done original seasons and just kept the format in the first place, but that’s a whole other topic and tbh i love some of the characters and stories from the remakes and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world so i’m thankful)

[multiplefandomfics]

Elevator

Hey guys so this is our first fanfiction to be posted ever so be nice. We appreciate any feedback and hope you enjoy it. This is going to be a blog with smut so 18+ only.

Norman Reedus x Reader

Words: 2646

Warnings: smut, cuteness overload, fluff, claustrophobia, Norman Reedus & Jeffrey Dean Morgan (because they need a warning :D),

It was a sunny day in Berlin, Germany even though it was just April. A friend and I had planned this trip for over a year. We met at the hotel we were gonna stay in. we went all out on that vacation and rented a good one. The town was also nice and the people very helpful and courteous.

One morning we wanted to meet in the lobby because we were staying on different floors. I was a little late cause the evening had been long and I didn’t hear my alarm. I quickly got dressed while writing a message to my friend and storming out the door a second later. Fortunately I had packed my stuff the day before. I stormed the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. Completely out of breath and focused on my phone I didn’t even notice the doors opening at a different level and two men stepping in. “Nice shirt!” one of them commented suddenly with a deep voice. I looked at my The Walking Dead shirt then at the guys and almost passed out. In front of me stood grinning like idiots Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Norman Reedus. I was paralyzed and for a moment I was sure I was still asleep and dreaming. My next thought was (Y/F/N) would be so jealous when I stepped out of the elevator. “You got a name?” Norman asked. “(Y/N)” I stuttered. “Nice one. You from around here?”  I was just about to find my voice and reply that I wouldn’t be living in a hotel if I were citizen of Berlin as the elevator jerked violently and then stood still. “what in hell…?” Jeffrey Dean Morgan said more to himself.”It’s not moving. Why is it not fucking moving?” I panicked. “Keep calm sweetheart. You claustrophobic or something?” Norman asked worriedly. “Or something...” I replied. I was not afraid of tight spaces the two gorgeous man trapped here with me were the problem. “I’m gonna press the help button.” so I did. Suddenly a voice came through the speakers.

“Hallo, Sie haben die Notfallhotline erreicht, wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?“

(Hello you reached the help hot-line what is your emergency?)

„Ja hallo wir stecken hier im Aufzug im Mercury Hotel in Berlin. Er bewegt sich seit ein paar Minuten gar nicht mehr, die Türen gehen auch nicht auf und hat vorher ganz schön gerappelt.“

(yeah hi we are stuck in an elevator in the mercury hotel in Berlin. It hasn’t been moving in few minutes, the door won’t open either and it jerked hardly before it stood still.)

„Ja ich sehe es im System aber ich kann keine Ferndiagnose stellen oder es beheben. Ich werde einen Techniker schicken müssen aber das wird etwas dauern. Leider fehlen uns momentan helfende Hände.“ at least she sounded sorry.

(Yes I can see it in my system but I can’t perform remote diagnosis. I’ll have to send a mechanic but that is gonna take a while. Unfortunately we are short handed at the moment.)

„Alles klar. Wir lange wird es ungefähr dauern?“

(Alright. How long is it gonna take approximately?)

„Vermutlich ein paar Stunden.“

(Maybe a few hours.)

„Okay wir können ja eh nicht viel machen. Danke für Ihre Hilfe.“

(Okay we can’t to much anyways. Thanks for your help.)

„Natürlich. Ich wünsche Ihnen trotzdem einen schönen Tag.“

with those words she hung up.

(Of course have a nice day anyways.)

“What did she say?” Jeff asked.

“Seems like we’re stuck for the next few hours. She’s gonna send a mechanic but that’s gonna take a while.” I answered.

“I would have never guessed that you’re German. Your English is flawless. Sounds almost like a native.” Norman remarked which made me blush. I had always loved English.

“Somebody got an idea what to do?” Jeff sounded already bored and we had only been stuck for 5 minutes. “I think I got everything we need in my purse.” I said hesitantly, opened it and pulled water bottles, snacks and a card game out of it. “Oh but I should call my friend first. She’s waiting in the lobby for me. One second.” I took my phone out of my pocket and hit dial on the video chat. I wanted to scare the living daylights out of her. I swear I was a good friend. After two rings she took the call. “Hey (Y/N) where are you?” “I’m sorry (Y/F/N) I’m stuck in one of the hotel elevators and the lady at the hot-line said it could take a few hours till a mechanic is gonna fix the problem and get us out of here. But I have some great company here. You wanna see?” I was so giddy I couldn’t even wait for a response. I just turned around and took the guys with me into view. “What the…?!” (Y/F/N) almost fell over. “You alright sweetheart?” Jeff asked worriedly as she almost hyperventilated and I laughed my ass off.  It was almost the same reaction I had had when I saw them first. “Why in hell are you guys even in Germany?” she finally spat out. “We are filming Ride here. We’re touring Europe at the moment.” Norman let on. “What a damn coincidence. I am not complaining. (Y/F/N) It seems we are not getting out of here anytime soon. Could you inform the people at the reception if they haven’t already? Then you should maybe go to a cafe or busy yourself otherwise. I won’t be able to stay on the phone the whole time my battery is gonna die then.” I explained to her. “Okay sure thing. Talk to ya later when you get out of that steel trap. Bye sis.” she replied. “Yeah bye. Love ya.” with that I hung up. “So she’s your sister?” Jeff asked. “Soul sister.” I replied happily. “We’d do anything for each other.” We sat down on the floor and I took hold of the UNO cards. “UNO? Seriously?” Norman laughed. “Yeah UNO. I like the game and I can’t play poker.” I admitted a little embarrassed. So there I was sitting on the floor of a stuck elevator with Norman Reedus and Jeffrey Dean Morgan playing UNO and eating snacks. “So you’re here for vacation?” The conversation stayed casual. “Yep we’ve been here for a week now.” We talked like we’ve known each other forever. It started to feel normal after a while. We made photos and laughed while eating and joking. I had no idea how much time had passed by when the double doors f the lift finally opened and revealed hotel staff, (Y/F/N) and a team of mechanics and tech support people. It seemed almost comical the way I was sitting on the ground with two grown ass men playing cards. “Oh hi, thanks for getting us out but couldn’t it have waited a few minutes longer I had a winning hand?” I sighed. “Betcha didn’t!” Norman challenged me. “Oh the bet is on Reedus!” I replied. (Y/F/N) only stared at me as if she couldn’t believe that we had gotten so close in only three hours. In the end I really had the win on my side and he had to surrender. I gathered all my things and we stretched our limbs outside. Felt good to finally walk again on more than six square meters. “So guys that is (Y/F/N) you met her briefly on the phone.” “Yeah hey nice to meet you” she was blushing like hell and that amused me a lot. “So it is too late to film now. You guys wanna hang out and show us parts of the town you have discovered yet? Maybe grab a bite somewhere?” Norman suggested. “Ehm yeah definitely!” I took the opportunity to be with them a little while longer. “Great our bikes are in the garage.” Jeff interjected. We made our way to the garage underneath the hotel. “You wanna ride with me?” Norman asked me shyly. It was adorable. “Sure thing but only if you let me drive for a while as well.” “You drive motorcycles?” he looked stunned but somehow also in awe. “Yes I have a bike at home. Been driving two wheels since I was 15. always loved the feeling of freedom that comes with it. And around my hometown there are alot of cool biker routes.” I raved. “Maybe we can drive a tour together sometime.” he offered. “That would be amazing. I’d love that a lot.” this time it was my turn to be stunned. He gave me his spare helmet as did Jeff to (Y/F/N) and sat up front on the Triumph. I put my foot on the footrest and swung my leg over the seat like I had dozens of times in my life before. I wasn’t sure where to put my hands so I just laid them on my thighs but he noticed and grabbed them to put them around his muscular middle. I wasn’t gonna object. He was a good looking and nice guy. We drove kinda aimlessly through town and when it turned late I heard through the com in my helmet that was connected to the rest of the group: “Hey guys I’m hungry. Let’s find a place to eat.” Jeff’s voice sounded strained. Well I remembered we had only eaten the few snacks at lunch time and in that moment my stomach rumbled too. “Good idea you know a good pizza place or so?” Norman asked and I felt him talk earlier than I heard him. That was kinda sexy. “Yes actually there is a restaurant just drive left there then the next right and you can park in front of Alfredo’s. We found it last Wednesday.” (Y/F/N) sounded through the speaker. Said, done. Five minutes later we stepped of the bikes and into the pizza place. It was rather small and not too crowded also no one seemed to recognize the guys which was a relive. “Thanks for taking us with you today.” (Y/F/N) said with a dopey smile on her face. I knew that she’d always had a crush on JDM. The whole day had been one big coincidence but the odds were in our favor. Sometimes fate seemed to be on our side. “order whatever you want. It’s my treat tonight.” Jeff gave us his signature smile again which made me melt. “Cheers everyone! To new friendships!” Jeff toasted. “Slainté!” I tasted back. We sat in that restaurant till about 10.30 pm that evening. We had so much fun. Even (Y/F/N) loosened up eventually. “By the way guys, if you wanna come to my hometown to go for a ride some when here’s my number. You can call anytime you want.” I winked at them but didn’t expect a number back. Then I got surprised by Norman. “Want mine too? Gimme your phone.” I willingly handed him my phone opening the display lock in the process. What I totally forgot about was my crazy background screen with a photo of him and Jeff. I smiled a little embarrassed but he seemed to think it was cute. Quickly he typed his number in and handed it back to me. I had to really restrain myself from completely fangirling right then. After eating we drove back to the hotel and grabbed a few drinks at the hotel bar. It was quiet at the hotel probably because it was out of season so we had the bar mostly to ourselves. After a few beers and shots the guys found out that I could really hold my liquor. (Y/F/N) was the one who ended it at around 2 am. I was still only slightly buzzed. “Let’s get to bed you guys gotta film tomorrow. Maybe we can watch?” she asked carefully. “Watch? You guys are gonna be part of the episode.” Norman assured us. Together we went to the elevators but took a different one that time. (Y/F/N) was the first to reach her floor. “Good night everyone see ya later.” she slurred and walked away. Jeff was next: “Night darling.” “Night Jeff” with those words the doors closed behind him. The second the doors touched Norman turned toward me and pressed his lips to mine. I was shocked but positively… if that is possible. “You want this?” he asked me breathless. “Oh god yes!” I exclaimed. We arrived at his floor and with a ding the doors opened. Because of the late hour no one was in the hallway as he pulled me further towards his room. He fumbled with the key-card and after some teasingly long seconds the door to his bedroom finally clicked open. We were still kissing like teenagers. He shoved the door shut with his foot and pushed my jacket from my shoulders. I helped him out of his clothes as fast as he undid mine and soon enough we were naked and I was writhing under his touch. I needed him so bad I was already dripping and he hadn’t even touched me yet. “Please Norman. Take me. I need it.” I whispered in is ear and he shuddered at my dirty words. “on the bed hands and knees.” he commanded. He was in charge and I knew and loved that so I did what he demanded and kneeled on the bed my soaking wet pussy on display for him. I heard him groan and shuffle behind me before I felt the bed dip. I was getting so much wetter in anticipation. Without warning he plunged two fingers in my pussy and they directly hit my g-spot. He was a master and when he buried his tongue into my folds I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was impossible to describe. He drew little figure eights on my clit that send electrical shock-waves through me. I was coming undone seconds later. He pulled his fingers out of me and before I could object his cock pushed in to the hilt. He was bigger than anyone I ever had before so the pleasure was combined with a bit of pain as well but I liked that. It was so amazing. I could feel every stroke of his dick so deep inside me he almost pushed through my cervix. “Norman deeper please.” and “oh god yes right there.” was all I could come up with. My brain was like mashed potatoes. I just felt him and nothing more. He grunted and his strokes became erratic “come with me baby.” he panted and that was all the encouragement I needed and I squirted all over the bed sheets. I had never done this before. Completely spent we laid on the bed next to each other breathing heavily. So fucked out. It was pure bliss. “Thanks for that.” I panted out. “For what? I really wanted you since I stepped into the elevator this morning.” he admitted. After some more silent minutes I asked “Norman? What is this between us?” “I honestly don’t know. Let’s just enjoy what we have here for a while. See where in brings us. I definitely want this to continue.” I was so happy about that statement that I just cuddled up to his chest for an answer.

The next morning we sat together at breakfast. Well when Norman and I came downstairs hand in hand we saw Jeff and (Y/F/N) sitting there next to each other looking completely in love. I made a mental note to ask her later what had happened between them. When she saw our intertwined fingers she smiled at us knowingly. I knew I had to tell her everything when we had time. This was the best vacation of my life by far and I was happy to have been stuck in an elevator for the first time ever.

Part 2 is gonna hit later

[awakennovella]

Prologue

SETTING: Inside a house in Coverham, North Yorkshire. Night. Sounds of rain.

(WRITER enters with a laptop. She sits, gets settled. SIR comes to sit beside her. He is happily dunking biscuits into a cup of tea. JAKOB enters and sits in his room. There is a letter on his desk.)

WRITER It is past midnight in the village of Coverham. Jakob is alone in his bedroom, looking out the window at the rain. He sees light from the street lamps reflected in the puddles on the pavement. He decides he has waited long enough.

(JAKOB folds the letter on his desk, puts it in an envelope, seals the envelope, and sticks a stamp on the front. He leaves his bedroom and starts down the hallway, stopping outside another door. He knocks and waits. There is no answer.)

JAKOB (whispering) Sir?

(Still no answer. On tiptoes, JAKOB continues to the main door. Meanwhile, SIR makes his way to the hallway. SIR follows JAKOB silently. JAKOB places his hand on the doorknob and starts to turn it extremely slowly. He makes it about halfway.)

SIR What are you doing, Jakob?

(JAKOB does not move. He keeps a tight hold of the doorknob.)

JAKOB I wrote Henriette a letter. I’m going to the postbox downstairs, so it’ll be collected tomorrow morning.

SIR But didn’t you write to her last week?

JAKOB Yes, sir, but–

(SIR takes the letter.)

SIR So you can write to her again next month. International postage isn’t free.

JAKOB Yeah. Yes. Sir.

SIR It’s late. Aren’t you tired? JAKOB No. SIR Bedtime, all the same. I’m sure that your brain at least is tired. Your mind is so imaginative, so introspective, so … open.            (pause) Sweet dreams, Jakob.

(JAKOB returns to his bedroom and SIR exits. JAKOB goes to bed. FAIRIES enter.)

WRITER It is a regular workday—            (deletes a word on her laptop) —worknight on the dark and inhospitable sleeping plane. Oh—where the fairies live is sort of like another planet, but more like another plane of the same planet, so we call their plane the sleeping plane and the human plane the waking plane. COLLEAGUE THREE Agh! COLLEAGUE FOUR What’s wrong? THREE My dreamer’s cat woke her up two hours early. That’s the third time this week! WRITER The fairies are going about their jobs: designing human nightmares, trying to scare their dreamers justenough and wake them at justthe right moment so the fairies can cross over to the waking plane. As usual, it’s not going too well. (BELLE and COLLEAGUE ONE separate from the other fairies.)             BELLE I think I’m finally going to do it this time. COLLEAGUE ONE You say that almost every night. BELLE I know I’ve always failed before … (BELLE pauses and remembers some failed nightmares that she has attempted. Some are elaborate and well-executed; one simply involves BELLE standing still and saying “boo.”) BELLE … but he watched an epic fantasy film earlier this evening. I designed such a beautiful nightmare based on it, I’m sure it’ll work. ONE Whatever you say. See you tomorrow. (ONE exits. BELLE waves.) BELLE Maybe not … (JAKOB opens his eyes.) WRITER The fairy builds Jakob’s dreamscape. There is a clearing surrounded by trees with a tower in the center. It looks similar to reality but still somehow off. Then the fairy starts to reverse gravity. (BELLE does as WRITER describes. Some leaves float into the air, followed by JAKOB.) JAKOB I’m flying, I’m flying! (BELLE gives a signal and the gravitational pull increases. JAKOB’s laughs change into shrieks.) BELLE And that’s act one. (BELLE signals again and the TREES are animated. JAKOB grabs hold of the branches of one and uses it to climb back to the ground. Gravity returns to normal. JAKOB pats the TREE on its trunk and relaxes. BELLE signals; the TREES immediately turn against JAKOB. They chase him to the tower.) BELLE Act two. (JAKOB enters the tower, panicked, and BELLE follows calmly. At the top JAKOB backs against the wall by the window, panting.) BELLE Good evening. JAKOB Are you … are you going to kill me? BELLE Not really.            (pause, considering) I should clarify. One day, yes, I hope so. But tonight, no, not really.            (another pause) It’s necessary, you know. The end of your life in exchange for the beginning of mine. You understand. JAKOB No, I don’t under— (BELLE shoves JAKOB through the window.) BELLE Act three. (Jakob wakes up. SIR enters, celebrates, and exits. A modern street in Vienna materializes around BELLE. A sign says “Friedhof +” and “Kirche” and has arrows pointing different directions. BELLE rejoices. Then she is jostled by the crowd. She retracts her wings with a suction noise and watches and listens to the human crowd around her.) BELLE German … Germany? Austria? Not England. (NOSY HUMAN approaches BELLE.) NOSY HUMAN Wow, wunderschönes Haar. BELLE Tha - danke. NOSY Interessanter Akzent. Kann ich gar nicht zuordnen. Woher sind Sie? BELLE Weit weg. Ich glaube ich hab mich verlaufen. Ich kenn mich hier nicht aus. NOSY Oh, das kann ich verstehen. Ich bin nach Wien gezogen von einem kleinen Dorf und es ist wie ein Labyrinth hier. Öffentliche Verkehrsmittel sind richtig gut. Wohin must du? BELLE (glancing at the sign again) Zum Friedhof. (NOSY points in the same direction as the sign. BELLE exits.)