#by jove it’s unforgiving though

[springsketches]

A knightess sketch at school while waiting for classes. My laptop died so I decided to sketch :3

[teawaffles]

The Adventures of John: Chapter 4, Part 2

TW // Mention of abuse

Also, a note for language.

Without even an opportunity for Laura to resist, Sherlock pulled his hand out — and revealed a gorgeous necklace. It wasn’t as if John could remember that necklace itself, but from its elegant sparkle, he judged that it’d been one of the items from their flat.

The despair on Laura’s face only deepened. Beside her, the detective spoke.

“This was stolen from my flat. Since the jewellery was in such a mess, you probably thought it wouldn’t look amiss if just one piece went missing — but that was naive of you,” he said. “Because I have a full grasp of everything that was put there.”

When Laura arrived at their flat, Sherlock had made a show of being indifferent to her request, while making sure that she had taken one of the stolen goods.

To have fully comprehended that chaos — John marvelled at the strength of Sherlock’s memory. During the conversation in the flat, he had persisted in looking out the window, away from Laura: that must’ve been to create a deliberate opening, and test if the girl would help herself to the pile.

Laura had stolen a piece of jewellery from their apartment. Moreover, she’d made up the request to find Dolly. Inevitably, from the two points above, it followed that her goal from the start had been to steal the jewellery. Hence, it formed definite proof that she was one of the thieves’ accomplices.

Confronted by that irreversible reality, Laura was stunned. As for the man, his eyes went bloodshot from anger.

“Y-You’ve gotta be kidding me, you good-for-nothing……. I told you to do it without exposing us—”

Hearing that, Sherlock piped up in a cool voice.

“Shall I take that as a confession? Though, there is still the argument that this kid Laura here is just another one of you vagrants, and you guys have nothing to do with the ring of thieves.”

The man spat on the ground.

“Hmph, I’ve no interest flogging that argument anymore. ——Let’s settle this the fast way.”

Saying that, he drew a small revolver from his pocket, and levelled it at Sherlock. Following suit, a few men among the group also whipped out knives and guns. The remaining crowd cried out softly in fear.

“If we dispatch the both of you right here, the truth’ll remain buried, eh?”

At that unsettling line, his armed accomplices also broke into twisted smiles.

But despite being held at gunpoint, Sherlock seemed particularly unmoved. He observed their actions, and narrated his own view.

“From the looks of it, you lot are the ringleaders, while the rest seem to have been threatened into compliance.”

“Yeah: with just a little bit of a beating, they’ll do anything we ask,” the man smirked.

But Sherlock was calm as he replied.

“From that, I gather not all of you are friends. And seeing how you resort to violence to settle things right away: you’re probably a hoodlum accustomed to crime, aren’t ya?”

“Hoodlum? You’re not wrong, but call us a group of clever thieves if you can. After all, I’ve skilfully manipulated these scum and carried out some brilliant thefts.”

Drunk on his own accomplishments, the man threw a glance at Laura. She hadn’t budged from where she stood; protecting her head, she cowered on the ground in sheer terror. From that, one could easily imagine what maltreatment she and the others had suffered at the hands of these thugs.

His heart filled with rage, John glared at the man.

“That means you forced them to commit crimes, didn’t you?”

“Call it making effective use of them, Doctor Watson,” he drawled. “These people all live on a pittance of a daily income. No one would care if they’re gone. I’ve given them a rather fine job until now, but this time, she just had to screw up. ——As I thought, brats are useless after all!”

“……I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

He shouted at Laura, and she repeated that apology over and over as she sobbed.

“You……”

“John, you’re right to be angry, but please calm down.”

At the unforgivable sight before him, the detective’s assistant had balled his hands into fists, but Sherlock persuaded him to keep his cool.

“Ah…… Sorry to get back to the topic, but let me give you some clarity on this case.”

“Huh?”

As before, Sherlock’s demeanour lacked any sort of tension, and his opponent frowned. But the detective paid no heed to that as he continued.

“To sum up the story thus far: the bunch of louts brandishing their weapons here are the ringleaders behind the thefts, and the other vagrants and street merchants were forcibly…… ‘used’, if I were to borrow your words?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You could say that they’re all expendables to be exploited as I please. To have so skilfully manipulated them — I bet my abilities rival those of that rumoured ‘Lord of Crime’ or something.”

“……Well.”

At that name, Sherlock’s eye twitched. But he showed no further reaction than that as he replied.

“In other words, to you guys, their names and faces aren’t even worth remembering?”

“That’s an odd way to put it, but exactly. They’re all disposable — do you really think I can remember all of them? ……That said, how long are you gonna keep prattling on like that? I don’t know if you’re just trying to buy time, but it’s time for you to die.”

Running out of patience, the man broke off their conversation, and moved to pull the trigger: fully intending to shoot the detective and his assistant.

However, Sherlock’s smile remained bold as ever.

“——That’s it then. I’ve gotten your word.”

That instant, John couldn’t believe his eyes.

Among the crowd of vagrants, the ones who were shrouded in hoods — separate from the ringleaders — were now aiming guns at the criminals.

“……Huh?”

“——Don’t move.”

One of the mysterious figures commanded sternly, keeping his gun trained on the lead criminal. Stunned by this sudden development, the man complied; and with his other hand, the figure slowly drew back his hood.

“……Inspector Lestrade?”

Out of sheer astonishment, John murmured the person's name.

The man in the hood, was Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. Facing the lead criminal, he spoke in a determined voice.

“From the conversation earlier, it’s clear that you have threatened the poor and coerced them into crime. I’ll hear the details at the station. Don’t even think about resisting.”

Then, the other figures removed their hoods and revealed their faces. One after the other, they confiscated the weapons from the stunned hoodlums. Though they weren’t wearing uniforms, from their practised actions, it was clear that they were police officers.

“W-What the devil is going on……?”

Tonight had been a night of many surprises for this detective. John was yet unable to wrap his head around the situation, and once again, he asked himself a question he’d thought about countless times today.

“Everything’s exactly as you’ve witnessed, John. When I identified this place, I contacted Lestrade at the same time, then got the officers to disguise themselves as tramps and hide among the crowd.”

“But why?”

“If I’d just called in the Yard as usual, we wouldn’t have been able to identify the ringleaders among this large a crowd.”

Sherlock stated that conclusion in brief, then began to explain.

“As I thought about the thieves’ actions, I judged that there was probably a mastermind separate from the ones committing the actual crimes, who was controlling them from behind the scenes. Hence, there was a need to identify this mastermind; but even if the Yard were to round up the entire group of vagrants, like what that ruffian told me earlier, they could just say that they had no relation to the ring of thieves — and that would be the end of it. Moreover, it still wasn’t clear who the ringleaders were, and the ring members who were being threatened would’ve likely been warned not to blab. So, in order to smoke out the ringleaders and elicit a confession, I added a bit of an act.”

Then, the detective looked at Lestrade, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“——Well, about the disguises: I’d thought about where the police squad could hide themselves, and decided it would be better for them to mingle with the crowd, so they wouldn’t have to sneak about all weirdly.”

“W-Wha— What a stupid……”

Upon hearing the truth, the man’s earlier triumphant attitude had devolved into a disgraceful, incredulous one. This time, Sherlock laughed out loud.

“Sure, you can make people follow you, but you’ll also have to keep tabs on them properly. In the first place, when this location was discovered, didn’t it occur to you that I would call in the Yard? You can pretend to be a mastermind, but with your lack of foresight, even the Lord of Crime would laugh.”

“S……Shite.”

“Oi, watch what you say from here on. It’ll be used as evidence against you in court.”

Lestrade warned the man as he clapped him in irons; accepting his defeat, he hung his head bitterly. For a villain who’d exploited people in poverty, and boasted of rivalling the Lord of Crime: it was a downright dreadful ending.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“I’ll always be in your debt, Holmes. And the same goes for you, Dr Watson.”

As he watched the arrested criminals being taken away, Lestrade thanked the detective duo.

However, in contrast to the inspector’s earnest attitude, Sherlock put a hand over his mouth as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Lestrade. Sorry for saying this when you’re being so serious, but…… you looked surprisingly good as a tramp.”

“H-Hey! That’s rude, Sherlock!”

“By Jove, Sherlock……”

John chided the detective, and Lestrade let out an astonished sigh.

“……Anyway, I’m grateful for your help in resolving this case.”

“Yeah, let me know when you have another interesting mystery next time.”

After that simple exchange, the inspector left to join the other police officers.

Then, Laura — the central figure from today — and an old woman from among the vagrants walked over to them.

“——U-Um, Dr Watson.”

The girl stood right before John. She bit her lip, and sank into a deep bow.

“I’m so sorry for tricking you!”

Laura blurted that out in a loud voice. Then, the old woman also bowed solemnly.

Met with their sincere apologies, John spoke up in a kind voice.

“It’s alright. You had no choice — all of you were being threatened.”

“B-But…… I……”

“Don’t worry about it. In any case, won’t it be tough for you all from here on?”

With a start, Laura realised what he meant, and dropped her gaze. Though they had been coerced into thievery, it was still a fact that they had broken the law. Hence, in order to furnish the details to the Yard, all of them would be taken in for questioning.

The atmosphere turned slightly gloomy, and Sherlock piped up.

“You don’t have to be so serious about it, y’know. Seeing as all of you had been forced into those crimes, the Yard’ll treat you more leniently.”

“Y-You’re right.”

John knew that Sherlock was deliberately being optimistic, in an effort not to worry them both. Hence, though it was a little awkward, John agreed with him.

Perhaps the matter wasn’t as simple as Sherlock had described, but the events from now on would be out of their hands entirely. Hoping that Lestrade would speak well in their defence, John changed the topic somewhat forcibly.

“……By the way, is this lady a relative of yours?”

Hearing that, Laura brightened up, and introduced the old woman.

“Yes, she’s my grandmother; we’ve been making a living together selling food.”

“Truly, please accept my sincere apologies for what happened.”

Hearing the old woman’s husky voice, John finally understood the awkward exchange he had witnessed between them at the park. Seeing as they were family, it was only natural for Laura to be more relaxed around her; moreover, the old woman’s faltering tone had surely been due to her guilt at deceiving him.

John nodded in understanding. Then, Laura took out a small pouch.

“That and this…… Here’s the full amount we’ve taken from you, Dr Watson. Please accept it.”

“Ah, I see. I’d forgotten all about the money. Thank you.”

John was about to reach for the pouch, when all of a sudden, a thought struck him — and he stopped.

“……Um, is something the matter?”

Seeing him freeze up, Laura tilted her head. Then, John withdrew his hand, and instead held up the bag full of items he’d bought from the street merchants.

“‘Taken’? What’re you saying? I bought these of my own accord. I can’t see any issues with them, so I’ve no intention of getting a refund.”

“……Eh?”

“Isn’t that right? I negotiated properly with the merchants in the parks, and bought these items as a customer. There was no trickery at all.”

John asserted that proudly, and beside him, he heard Sherlock chuckle.

Of course, what John said was by no means a show of bravado that he hadn’t been tricked. Laura had been moved by his kindness throughout the day; in an instant, she sensed the emotions imbued in his words. But even so, she knitted her brows, looking troubled.

“Still, I really should return this to you.”

She then offered him the pouch again, but John gently pushed it away.

“Laura, in all honesty, the walnuts your grandmother sold me were delicious. For products that good, it’s only right that I pay a fair price for them.”

His smile was full of warmth as he continued.

“If I happen to see your stall again, I’ll be sure to buy from you.”

“Dr Watson……”

This time, Laura did not press the matter.

She held the pouch as if it were a treasure, and her face brimmed with smiles.

“——Alright. When we see each other again, I’ll be sure to prepare lots of walnuts for you.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

Then, John bade goodbye to Laura and her grandmother; and with his “loot” in hand, he left the scene with Sherlock.

[tartagilicious]

love is a bad word (arthur x reader)

“This city night looks like you: brilliant but a little lonely. Your knotted heart, I’ve followed it downthese strange streets. Tell me how you want it, tell me how you need it. There’s enough time. We dive into that sky and melt into the night.”

title: love is a bad word

pairing: arthur x you

genre: smut

requested: yes, thanks so much for the support, anon :)

song: stay up by baekhyun + beenzino, gymnopédie no. 1, erik satie

edit: the original copy was deleted by accident through me trying to edit this on mobile, so, if text wasn’t appearing for a while, that’s all it was. 

—

Beyond the windows of his bedroom, the street lamps hung brazenly against the star-studded sky and cast warped shadows across your face. Your expression weighed down with dim longing, yet inexplicably, you still somehow remained as ethereal as the stars not so far out.

No longer was there a blindfold over your eyes, and no longer were you inept to the tension that had arisen between the two of you. Just mere months ago, the premonition of even a friendship between you and the author had seemed unlikely, yet still, there you were, living in the very situation you’d deemed as impossible from the start.

Starting out in the mansion, Arthur had done things you thought were unforgivable. His unsolicited touches and damningly flirtatious words putting a mark in your brain that you were sure you’d never forget as long as you lived. But between things like his sincere apologies, the way he regarded you with friendly intent and talked with you as if he’d known you for years — the dynamics had confused you to no end.

By now, you knew him almost as well as you did yourself, and everything about him proved to only add onto the fact that you were irrevocably in love with the writer. Maybe he would never forget the lives that slipped through his fingers. The people he tried so hard to save — and couldn’t. But when the darkness creeps up to tell him he’s a failure or that he’s not worth it, you want to be there to say it’s wrong.

You want to be with him for as long as you could to remind him that he would never be alone. He didn’t need to push himself. You want to shield him so he didn’t have to mask his pain anymore.

You want to stay with him to remind him that he too was deserving of happiness.

You’d jokingly named this feeling love one night, once upon a time. But you’d had no idea then.

He brushed your cheek with the lightest, most tender of touches, keeping an achingly teasing distance even without his gloves on. His actions were slow, but his eyes showed the real depth of his yearning. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

“Arthur,” you mumbled, reaching out to slide beneath the line of his jaw. The simple action made his lips quirk up in a silent motion, and before you realised it, your lips were almost touching. His lips brushed over yours with a tantalising sensuality that made your knees weak and had your heart skipping beats as he whispered,

“Tonight, I’m going to fill your heart to the brim with me.”

You closed your eyes as his paced words reached your awaiting ear, your fingers tangling into where his hairline ended at the nape of his neck.

“You can try,“ you whispered, your voice light. “But I don’t think you can do it much more.”

He hummed, his lips brushing yours with every word he spoke. “My dear ___, victory goes to the swift I’m afraid.”

Arthur took his time kissing you, kissing you deeply as though he ached to. His hand then moved to grip your jaw, forcing your mouth to open as his fangs teased your bottom lip ever so slightly. It only became more obvious with the passing time that Arthur wasn’t messing around, every action going straight to your core.

“Arthur-!”

You cried out as his hand that was once pressedfirmly to your hip now gently twisted and prodded at the sensitive peaks of your chest through your shirt. He did nothing but smile against your lips, though; the sensation driving you mad.

He hummed almost jovially, as if silently approving the sounds that escaped your lips. “It feels so good you can’t help yourself, hm?”

An uncouth whimper left you as you stared up at your partner with wordless yearning.

“My.” Arthur laughed teasingly as he merely sped up his actions for sake of getting more reactions out of you. “That’s a naughty look you’ve got there.”

“It’s your fault- " You pulled Arthur closer by the hand resting near his nape to rest his forehead against yours as you panted, your words cutting off as he began to unbutton your shirt. “It’s always your fault that I’m like this.”

His fingers played attentively with your nipples through the fabric until the clothes that had been covering your upper half were completely discarded, leaving part of you bare for him.

“And, my little bird, I hope it will stay that way.” He smiled so sweetly you almost forgot about the burning sensation between your legs, your chest swelling with endearment.

But he reminded you quickly enough.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as he lifted you into the air, giving you the feeling of weightlessness for a few fleeting moments before dropping you to straddle his lap as he sank to the couch behind him. His lips encased yours again immediately, his mouth warm and insistent as your arms wrapped around his neck tightly.

Arthur wasted no time in moving to your neck now that you had a comfortable position, alternating between licking and sucking on your skin before coming across your jugular veins. They beat hard and fast against your skin, showing just how much of a frenzy the author could throw your heart into.

You moaned as he dragged his fangs down your neck, careful to give you just enough pleasure without breaking the skin just yet. He left the action halfway undone, though, ultimately deciding to save it for a later time. You lost the thought of any protests when he turned his attention back to your since hardened nipples.

He teased you almost unbearably, suckling lightly on the pert nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. You knew that he had been somewhat of a casanova before your arrival to the mansion many months ago, but you still never quite understood what kept women coming back even without the promise of a genuine relationship. His tongue continued to explain all you needed to know, wordlessly answering any sliver of doubt remaining.

Arthur pressed up into you as he nipped at your chest, a moan slipping from his lips in turn as you began to feel just how hard you had made him. So, tightly gripping his hair, you tried your best to entertain him as well as he was you. You pressed back with a sharp inhale, the only thing standing between your goal being your skirt and his pants, respectively.

He gasped under his breath, ceasing his actions for just a moment as his eyes fluttered shut in bliss. But before you could get very far, he put his hands on your hips, and with a gentle yet overwhelming strength only a vampire could possess, stopped your movements all-too easy.

“Not so fast,” he panted, his lips curving up into a mirthful simper. “Didn’t I say tonight is about you? Lay back and close your eyes, ___.”

You spent a long few moments staring at him without a word. But having finally made up your mind, you simply shook your head.

“Did you?”

Just watching Arthur as he quirked a brow, you guided him to lie down across the couch instead. He made little attempt to stop you, and even groaned as you went up to straddle his stomach, his eyes fluttering shut once again. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten again at the very sight, and soon you inevitably began to grind against the man’s taut chest, looking for any stimulation you could.

“Ah, ___-”

The skirt you adorned was hiking farther up with each movement of your hips, letting your arousal drip through your already soaked panties almost virtually unguarded. This, unbeknownst to you in your state, had left a sizable spot on his oxford, the sweet smell driving Arthur more insane with every second that passed.

And while he enjoyed the way your eyebrows bunched together so delicately as you worked, his hard-on was enough to cut the experience short. He hurriedly helped you out of your remaining clothes, leaving you bare on top of him before calling up his strength to help you over his face.

You cried out in pleasure as you sank down onto his tongue, fingers going to grasp anything near you as he face-fucked you mercilessly. He licked long stripes along your pulsing lips, sucking lewdly as your moans filled the otherwise empty room. You were sure that the whole mansion could hear you by then — but that still didn’t faze you. You began to quiver on top of him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you came right onto his tongue.

But he still kept going, even after lapping up everything you’d given already him.

Your pussy throbbed against his tongue that just seemed to go deeper and deeper, leaving no crevice of you out. Moans fell out of your mouth sporadically, but you didn’t pull away. You knew Arthur would let you — yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself to deny the pleasure he was giving you.

“Arthur!” you hissed, small tears forming in your eyes as you leaned over him. This just prompted him to act faster, though, only pushing you back when you came for a second time.

Your breaths were equally heavy, your eyes meeting over the faint haze you both felt.

“Arthur,” You repeated, your hands going out to stable yourself with his shoulders as pulled himself up to sit. You were now straddling his waist, and with his erection poking up directly between the apex of your thighs and your juices coating his chin in a light glaze, you were hard-pressed in finding an excuse not to move on.

He smiled tenderly, though his words came out with a sly huff. “By jove, I could get drunk on your sweetness all night, ___.”

“You’re always even more flirty when I have you like this,” You couldn’t help but smile back, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into kiss him sweetly and uncircumstanciously. In that moment, you might have both been silently wanting the same lustful thing, but you still stopped to enjoy the feeling of simply being together.

The fates had been against you from the start, placing you in a relationship full of misunderstandings and bad first impressions with almost no guarantee of a time above that. But you’d both found your way to each other despite that, overcoming your past mistakes side by side and growing off one another. That, you thought, was what made your bond so strong to begin with.

You broke away slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting you as Arthur said, “How could I possibly resist? With such a beautiful woman staring down at me, it would be exceptionally strange to act normally.”

Smiling into your next kiss, he cupped your face delicately. To this day, it still managed to astonish him that you’d fallen in love with someone like him. He’d frightened you terribly upon your first meeting and had continued to put you off your wits in every meeting, but you had still seen right through everything he’d done. You’d been the first person to tell him that he had a pure heart, and he wanted to hold on to that memory in his heart forever.

Because coming from you, the one person who had him enamoured from the start — it meant the world.

Your hands moved to unbutton his shirt as you consciously slipped your tongue between his lips, the change in demeanour catching him off guard, but still being all-too easy to follow. Your skillful hands slipped off his shirt, throwing it to the side to lie on the floor along with your own clothes.

“You’re fast,” he praised you lightly, his words carrying you into yet another blissful smile.

“I could go on like this all night.”

—

this is the second time i’ve ever written smut and it shows 🗿

[douxreviews]

The Mummy (1999) Review

"You better think of something fast, because, if he turns me into a mummy, you're the first one I'm coming after."

The Mummy, a (very) loose remake of the classic Boris Karloff horror film of the same name, was released 20 years ago today. To mark the occasion I've decided to a look back at this classic adventure film and explain why it remains my favourite blockbuster of 1999. Yes, I actually rate it higher than The Matrix. Look, it's great an' all, but does it have a scene where Neo scares away Agent Smith with a cat?

No, it does not, and that's why The Mummy will always be better.

Despite being savaged by critics upon release (its Rotten Tomatoes score is only 58%), The Mummy was one of the big hits of summer 1999, earning $415m worldwide. It was followed by two sequels, the CGI saturated mess that is The Mummy Returns, and The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, which committed the unforgivable sin of replacing Rachel Weisz so I have boycotted it on principle. There was also a spin-off, The Scorpion King, a fun, but forgettable Conan knock-off which is little more than a stepping stone on the Rock's eventual path to global superstardom. There was also that reboot from a few years back with Tom Cruise, but we're not going to talk about that. The franchise may have crashed and burned, but the original film, well, the original remake of the original film, has endured amazingly and is probably more popular now than when it was first released.

Thousands of years ago, in the Egyptian city of Thebes, the high priest Imhotep is having it off with the Pharaoh’s mistress, Anck-su-Namun. When their affair is discovered by the Pharaoh, the pair murder him. Before they can be captured, Imhotep flees and Anck-su-Namun kills herself, knowing her lover will use that old black magic to resurrect her, which has to be the most extreme version of a trust exercise I have ever seen. Imhotep takes her corpse to Hamunaptra, the city of the dead and one of ancient Egypt’s top three tourist destinations, but is stopped by Pharaoh’s bodyguards before he can complete the resurrection ritual. As punishment for his crimes, Imhotep is mummified alive and cursed so that one day he will rise again as a super-powered zombie and bring about the end of the world. Why is it so many curses make the cursed super powerful? If Imhotep wasn’t evil this could almost be his superhero origin story.

Anyway, skip ahead a few millennia and Hamunaptra is now a ruin being guarded by the decedents of Pharaoh’s bodyguards, who are no doubt cursing their ancestors for their obvious shortsightedness. This might explain why they half-arse guarding the place. Instead of maintaining a full-time garrison to keep away any wannabe treasure hunters, they routinely leave the place wide open so any idiot can just waltz in. So, really, they've got no one but themselves to blame when a curious librarian decided to have a flick through the Book of the Dead and start waking up mummies.

The Mummy is the closest anyone has ever come to recapturing the joy and spirit of Raiders of the Lost Ark. It is by no means that film's equal. Raiders was made by one of cinema's greatest craftsmen, while The Mummy was made by the guy responsible for Van Helsing and G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the action scenes, which are often unremarkable and a little too reliant on sometimes dodgy CGI for their spectacle. Fortunately, though, the film succeeds in spite of this obvious handicap.

What The Mummy might lack in amazing action and effects, it more than makes up for with lots of great humour and some amazing heroes. I really have to give Sommers some credit here; he might not be a great director, but he wrote a fun, breezy script that doesn't takes itself too seriously, but avoids slipping into self-parody. It's also endlessly quotable. The quotes section of this review will probably give War and Peace a run for its money.

But at the end of the day, it's the characters that make this film what it is. They are why I keep coming back to it again and again, why I occasionally bother with the sequel, and they are why I will always prefer this movie to The Matrix. That film might have groundbreaking special effects and some exceptional action sequences, but when it comes to its heroes... well, let's just say that Neo is a character best suited to Keanu's own unique brand of minimalist acting.

The Mummy, though, is blessed with a fantastic central trio in Rick, Evelyn and Jonathan, all brilliantly bought to life by Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weisz, and John Hannah. Sommers really hit the jackpot when he cast those three. There have been many pretenders to Dr. Jones' throne over the years, but Rick O'Connell is the only one that ever seemed like a serious contender. Evelyn is the brains of the entire operation and while the story often places her in the damsel in distress role, she never, ever feels like one. And Jonathan is essentially the anti-Jar Jar, a comic relief who is genuinely funny without having to resort to cheap laughs or silly pratfalls. He may not be as heroic as Rick or as smart as his sister, but when the fighting starts Jonathan is always there to help out and if you need some ancient Egyptian translated in a jiffy, well, he'll try his best.

Notes and Quotes

--The name Ardeth Bay is a tweaking of Ardath Bey, the alias Imhotep used in the original. The character was originally meant to die, but test audiences liked him to he got a reprieve.

--While all the heroes are great, Imhotep himself is a pretty flat villain. He's mostly just an excuse for the FX department to show off.

--Difficult not to think of Scooby Doo when that American loses his glasses.

Beni: "O'Connell! Hey, O'Connell! It looks to me like I've got all the horses!" Rick: "Hey, Beni! Looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the RI-VEEER!"

Rick: "Well if it ain't my little buddy Beni. I think I'll kill you." Beni: "Think of my children." Rick: "You don't have any children." Beni: "Someday I might."

Evelyn: "I know, you're wondering...what is a place like me doing in a girl like this."

Hangman: "Any last requests, pig?" Rick: "Yeah. Loosen the knot and let me go."

Jonathan: "Americans."

Rick: (a spooky wind blows through Hamunaptra) "That happens a lot around here."

Evelyn: "Look, I... I may not be an explorer, or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker, or a gunfighter, Mr. O'Connell, but I am proud of what I am." Rick: "And what is that?" Evelyn: "I... am a librarian."

Jonathan: "Imhotep. Imhotep."

Evelyn: "I will give you one hundred pounds to save this man's life." Hassan: "Madame, I would pay one hundred pounds just to see him hang."

Rick: "I only gamble with my life, never my money."

Evelyn: "Patience is a virtue." Rick: "Not right now, it isn't."

Evelyn: "You swear?" Rick: "Every damn day."

Rick: "Well, you probably won't live through it." Winston: "By Jove, do you really think so?" Jonathan: "Well, everybody else we've bumped into has died. Why not you?"

Evelyn: "Abdul? Mohammed?... Bob?"

Evelyn: "Oh, I've dreamt about this since I was a little girl." Rick: "You dream about dead guys?"

Rick: "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Evelyn: "The only thing that scares me, Mr. O'Connell, are your manners."

Evelyn: "You know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance." Beni: [laughing] "Really? They do?" Evelyn: "Oh, yes. Always."

Beni: (Translating) "Come with me, my princess. It is time to make you mine, forever." Evelyn: "For all eternity, idiot."

Rick: "Mummies!"

Three and a half out of four wrong sides of the RI-VEEER!

Mark Greig has been writing for Doux Reviews since 2011

[poppedmusic]

Sound City 2017

Clarence Docks, Liverpool, 27th-28th May 2017

Words: Gary Lambert

Photos: Gary Coughlan

In Liverpool music terms, the last weekend of May means one thing…. Liverpool Sound City. So there was only one place for Popped Music to head. Obviously. This year Sound City had moved from its previous home of Bramley Moore Dock to the larger surroundings of Clarence Dock. This may seem like a small change, but the difference put a lot more responsibility on the festival itself as they lost the big warehouse which had seen some special events make memories in just two festivals, I’m sure the brickwork must still have a tiny residual shake from the performance by Swans two years ago, let alone the raw punk of Fucked Up last year. In its place came a medium-sized traditional festival tent to accompany the Main Stage which was designed facing the city centre so that the audience were looking out to sea.

  It was also a bit uncoordinated in terms of what Sound City actually was. Was it the traditional style festival lasting two days? Or did it include the nostalgia nights of The Human League and John Cale performing The Velvet Underground? For Popped Music, life is all about new music so the first two nights were cast aside in order to save ourselves for the real Sound City Festival.

  It was obvious that the organizers of Sound City had decided to go for a high energy start to the day with Estrons and Vant taking on smaller slots than you would expect them to play in order to get the main stage going. Unfortunately the crowd did not come through the turnstiles in enough numbers to thrive on the performances on offer at the largest space. But that did not stop the performers. In the tent we saw local band Generation produce a set of such energy that it made complete sense as to why my taxi driver dad text me about them the day before, “a recommendation from a customer”. I’ve seen the band before and love them, but hats off to whoever that passenger was for trying to educate my dad. Bad news, he hasn’t added them to his Kitchen Disco tracks.

  Despite threats of horrific thunderstorms and rain that would get Noah doing some carpentry, the site was bathed in sunshine from much of the early part of the day. Unfortunately the banks of the royal blue Mersey have a constant heavy breeze to minor gale 365 days per year. This meant that the industrial site became reminiscent of a small town in the Sahara desert as wave after wave of sand and dust hit the audience and bands. Fickle Friends were unlucky to perform in probably the worst of it which had Nattie complaining that “it’s been a bad day to wear white jeans” and after she took over keyboard duties during Say No More, “that keyboard felt like it was made of dust”. Hats off to the band though as these were only minor distractions and final track, Swim, felt victorious that they had succeeded.

  The regular sandstorm definitely took its toll on the audience though as The Hunna’s lively, energetic performance brought nothing but hoods up and coughing. It must be tough for bands when faced with such a trying set of conditions. At least when it rains people can put their waterproof jackets on and continue to enjoy themselves. The dust clouds were demoralising at times as grit hit your throat, teeth, and eyes.

  In the corner at Pirate Studios’ stage, there was less chance for the dust to build up momentum, however if it had tried during Bang Bang Romeo’s set then I think the power of Anastasia’s vocals would have sent the particles fleeing in fear for their very existence. By Jove! That girl has one hell of a set of lungs on her. Even if they had not been on my list of bands to watch, I would have had to watch them from the moment I heard her sing. Afterwards, I overheard somebody describing her as having the strength of Adele in her voice, but I would say it was more like watching a brilliant musical theatre performer as due to the range and pressure she put her voice under. I know that this meant that the rest of the band were somewhat overshadowed, but you wouldn’t tell John Squire not to do a guitar solo.

  From the grandiose to the wonderfully simple, as a short trek across the site took me to the Baltic Stage’s tent to catch Irish punk band, Touts. If you have not heard them yet and like The Clash then I would suggest that you get involved ASAP. I loved the energy and aggression in the set which flew by in a matter of seconds. Their finale of Them’s Gloria was glorious, G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S, GLORIOUS!

  After the rough around the edges chaos of Touts, The Kills provided a beautiful contradiction to them without straying too far away. The Kills are a band who definitely divide opinion despite not seeming to be the kind of band who court hero worship or hatred. I can honestly say I would never choose to listen to them at home, but after watching them again I would actively go out of my way to watch them perform. There is an understated theatricality to their performance and sound. Maybe it could do with being even more ambitious, but The Kills make sure that you watch them on stage.

  It was obvious to me who the highlight of Sound City was going to be looking at the bill beforehand, and so it proved. Peaches, Canada’s Queen of Electronica, had the Baltic Stage tent packed to the rafters with people before she filled it even further with beats, lights, costume changes, and huge inflatable genitalia. It felt like everybody at the festival was trying to squeeze themselves into the tent to throw their arms in the air, and unite in love of life and music. The tracks from Rub such as How Do You Like My Cut? become rebel anthems in the warm, darkness of a venue. Peaches makes you feel that you could conquer the world.

  In addition to Sound City Festival, we also had the opportunity to go across the road to Invisible Wind Factory to take in some other acts. To be honest, it was like going back in time to the real Sound City when music would take over the city centre, and it was better as an event than the big stages and fairground on the waterfront. For one, Invisible Wind Factory got people nearer to each other and naturally encouraged more of a festival vibe as it felt impossible not to start making friends with people, or giving people you would have nodded to ten minutes earlier a big hug. Considering most people had been going for about ten hours at that point, you would understand if things become more chilled out, instead we had a shot in the collective arm from some high energy music acts such as Fling, Rongorongo, False Advertising (who had been stood behind me during Peaches and then rushed over to get ready for their set), and a smashing performance by Catholic Action around the corner at North Shore Troubador.

  Thankfully for the Sunday of Sound City, Saturday evening had finished with a bit of a downpour. This meant that the festival site was not going to be plagued with the sandstorms of the previous day, although the site was still pretty unforgiving underfoot.

  The stylish Red Rum Club opened up the Sunday’s party to thankfully a bigger crowd than Saturday. With smart songs and an effortless style when performing they did not drown on the big stage. Far from it.

During the mid-noughties I sort of fell out of love with indie music, which meant the performance of Milburn did not hit any nostalgic notes for me; but they know their way around working an audience and if somebody in a band is confident enough in themselves to announce “We’re Milburn, we were even less famous about ten years ago”. I can understand that though as the older tracks seemed to me to be landfill indie as so many bands were described at the time, but there is a bit more of a swagger to their newer numbers. I can see throughout this summer that Milburn are going to be a crowd pleaser in a Maximo Park kind of way at a number of festivals. I won’t be looking for another stage if I happen to come across them again.

  Headlining the Atlantic Stage and closing the festival was another band from the noughties on a re-birth somewhat, The Kooks. With a new found fan base due to Spotify playlists throwing up their indie classics for a new generation, it was a set people had been excited about all day long. And The Kooks are a band who you can rely on to perform. I don’t like their music, but I still say their gig in the Bombed Out Church at Sound City 2011 was one of the best of my life for watching a band give it their all. Obviously circumstances were different then to now – for one the stage wasn’t made up basically of pallets – so it would not be fair of me to compare that intimacy with a giant industrial yard. But you are never going to be disappointed by a band who can hit you with tracks like Naïve and She Moves In Her Own Way. I might not like them, but they’re still brilliant floor filler indie disco numbers. And as the glitter cannons filled the air, you couldn’t help but be dragged along into the joy of The Kooks.

  It was a hard set for The Kooks too. It’d been a bit of a tough weekend for some of the audience because of the dusty air, but more pertinently prior to The Kooks’ closing the show, Liverpool and Manchester’s Metro Mayors had been out on stage to give a speech of remembrance and resilience against those who create terror which was followed by the playing of Don’t Look Back in Anger after an impeccably observed minute’s silence. If it had been a wilder or more somber band, then it might not have struck such a chord with the audience. Instead The Kooks were perfect in their moment.

  In the slot before the headliner, came one of my favourite bands of the moment White Lies. After watching their gig in Liverpool late last year, I thought that this was the kind of band who could step up to headline festivals shortly. After this performance, I am certain that they are just the kind of band who can do that. For one of the few times of the weekend, I saw a band who managed without cranking up the volume or tempo to sound perfectly suited to a space of that size. Each song is filled with drama, celebration and grandeur. One of their new songs even reminded me of the Whitney Houston classic I Wanna Dance With Somebody and I love that song. In fact, I’m sure that if a member of White Lies had a celebrity girlfriend or was in the gossip pages on a regular basis they would be headlining Glastonbury this year.

  It has been a while since I watched a set by The Jackobins, but given the improvement in the quality of their releases and the changes in band membership, there was no way I was going to miss their moment in the sun at Sound City. I have to say things have got considerably better to my taste. There is more bite to the band now, and it seems that lead members Dominic (singer) and Veso (guitar) have toned down a lot of their on-stage action which previously seemed like a U2 tribute act. Given that their bassist hardly moved, I have a feeling that the forced showmanship of the past was covering for fears in performance. Now the dancing, guitar hero’ing and general performing is entertaining and encouraging for you to join in the party. They’re constantly gigging, so get on down to watch them.

  I know Sound City took place at the end of May, but it might very well be that this summer becomes “The Summer of The Amazons“. With their debut album released on the Friday two days before, I was expecting some added excitement to their set. I did not expect to be faced with a tent that was full to the rafters for the last fifteen minutes of their soundcheck – which saw singalongs happen as each member of the band did their vocal checks with extracts of Junk Food Forever and In My Mind. As soon as the set started the atmosphere was electric, and after about fifteen seconds of audience shyness the moshpits opened up and The Amazons become fully aware that Liverpool Sound City loved them. After a couple of songs I thought it was only fair for me to leave so that someone else who hasn’t seen The Amazons several times over could take a bit of the set in.

  Celebrating the release of their 300th album, Tim Burgess and Mark Collins of The Charlatans performed a stripped back set in Tim Peaks Diner. Rumours had spread all weekend that it was going to be a full band set, but instead the simple settings suited the pairing. The acoustic version of North Country Boy will live with me forever as a beautiful version of one of my all-time favourite songs. Sadly though with a low stage and plenty of people crowding near the front, the setup felt a little bit too fragile for anybody who was beyond halfway of the moderate-sized tent.

  It says something though when Tim Burgess and Mark Collins were not the highlight on Tim’s own tent. For me, there was a choice of two. Firstly Xam Volo who stepped up from just being cool and sounding great, to making people dance, hold hands (it was too early for anything more despite it being proper seduction music), and let his guitarist loose with some impeccable solo work. I’m a big fan of Xam, and you can see more and more of his personality coming out in his shows. Let’s get a bit more funk to the sound and the world will start turning faster. The other standout moment was Tom Mouse Smith. When a little kid can keep a room quiet with only his voice and an acoustic guitar then you’ve got to take your hat off to him. The fact Tom did this without going into the realms of cutesy takes real skill. Whilst a cover of The House of The Rising Sun was a bit awkward for the more analytical members of the audience, Don’t Look Back in Anger brought cheers and a smile of victory from Tom’s dad which will have meant the world to the boy on stage. For the record, if it had gone cutesy and “Sound City’s Got Talent” I would have stormed out of there. Well done kid!

  The best thing about festivals, apart from the free love and hedonistic excess obviously, is the musical mixtape you make in your mind as you go from stage to stage. One of the best 30 minute periods I’ve stumbled across in ages was watching half of Fizzy Blood’s set which was the epitome of small stage hard rock. In fact, it felt almost sacrilegious that such riotous anger came forth from The Cavern Stage, Gerry would need a pacemaker for watching them. I almost needed a new hand as I slapped the barriers at the front of the stage in a completely ridiculous attempt of conveying the joy that was shooting through me.

To save myself from any further damage, I decided to move away from the barrier and to the Pirate Studios stage. In a haze of smoke on stage, I saw a man leave his computer and keyboards to stand at the front of the stage to do a Big Fish, Little Fish dance. That was enough to grab my attention, but then the rest of the set of high quality beats from The Baltic States had me slinking and throwing my arms in the air in a manner entirely befitting of an indie kid who cannot dance in the slightest. The Baltic States play in a way that doesn’t have you looking to close your eyes and chill out, but still doesn’t need your heart to be racing at an artificial level to reach maximum enjoyment.

  You may notice that there is not much mentioned on Sound City as a festival. To me, Sound City this year was not a festival, and had quite a few failings and disappointments. However, I do not think it would be fair to review the bands with that negativity as it might come across as a criticism of some acts who did brilliantly with a bad hand, and some other bands who were just brilliant. Obviously though, I’ll be there again next year. It is Sound City after all.

The hype beforehand may have been all about John Cale’s bananas, but it was Peaches that I’ll always remember.

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Festival Review: Sound City 2017 Sound City 2017 Clarence Docks, Liverpool, 27th-28th May 2017 Words: Gary Lambert Photos: Gary Coughlan In Liverpool music terms, the last weekend of May means one thing….