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kjack89 · 3 years ago

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Hi! I’m really enjoying the fics based on the spotify songs! Can I request your #1 song with Enjoltaire?

Ok, so, what I listened to most on Spotify wasn't a song, it was actually...

1. "Grandfather Clock Ticking (For Deep Sleep)"

Which has a whole story behind why it was what I listened to most, but I figured in lieu of telling it, it'd be so much more fun to turn it into a fic.

E/R, modern AU.

BONG.

Enjolras sat bolt upright, not seeming to notice that he had dislodged Grantaire from where he had been busily working somewhere further south.

BONG.

“What the fuck is that?” Enjolras demanded.

BONG.

Grantaire rocked back on his heels, looking equal parts amused and irritated by the rather dramatic shift in nighttime activities, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

BONG.

“It’s my clock,” he said, like it was obvious.

BONG.

Probably because it was obvious, so much so that Enjolras even looked a little embarrassed for having asked.

BONG.

“Did you steal it from a church steeple?” Enjolras asked stupidly.

BONG.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Does it sound like church bells to you?”

BONG.

“It’s certainly loud enough to be,” Enjolras shot back.

BONG.

Again Grantaire rolled his eyes, though this time with no small amount of affection. “I think you need your hearing examined,” he told Enjolras.

BONG.

The final chime of the clock faded into silence and Grantaire arched an eyebrow at Enjolras. “Now,” he said, leaning in to kiss him, “should I get back to, ah, examining what I was before?”

Enjolras’s eyes darkened. “Yeah,” he murmured before biting down lightly on Grantaire’s bottom lip. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Six hours later, Enjolras lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and severely regretting taking Grantaire up on his sleepy offer to spend the night. He should have insisted on leaving, not because he didn’t want to spend the night with Grantaire – though if he had known how loudly the man snored, he might also have reconsidered it – but because the clock went off every single hour.

Grantaire let out a snuffling noise before snuggling in closer against Enjolras, blinking blearily up at him. “Hey,” he said, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“Hey,” Enjolras returned, grateful for the opportunity to extract his arm from underneath Grantaire without waking him.

Grantaire yawned widely. “What are you doing up?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Though Grantaire nodded, he also gave Enjolras a calculating look. “Here I thought I wore you out pretty good last night.”

He said it casually, but Enjolras knew Grantaire well enough to know when he was fishing for a compliment. “You did,” he informed him dryly. “But your damned clock woke me up every hour.”

Grantaire groaned, flopping back down against his pillow. “Oh, Jesus, are you still on about that?”

Enjolras rolled over onto his side to frown at him. “I’m sorry that it’s the loudest clock in the world,” he said. “How the hell are you able to sleep through it?”

“Talent, I guess,” Grantaire said with another yawn. “I don’t know, I don’t really hear it.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “Maybe you’re the one who needs your hearing checked.”

“Maybe,” Grantaire agreed, skimming a hand up Enjolras’s side. “But I can think of a few better things we could do instead.”

Enjolras grinned as Grantaire pulled him close, and had just tilted his head down to kiss Grantaire when the clock chimed again, and he groaned. “Seriously?” he sighed, pulling away, and Grantaire groaned as well.

“Seriously?” he said, echoing Enjolras’s gripe, and he watched Enjolras stand up with pleading eyes. “You’re really gonna leave me here like this?”

“Mood’s ruined now,” Enjolras informed him, grabbing his underwear from where he had tossed them the night before. “You can take care of that yourself while I go make us coffee.”

But on his way to the kitchen to make coffee, Enjolras was waylaid by the loud ticking from the clock hanging on the wall. The ticking was loud enough that he was almost surprised he hadn’t noticed it the night before, but then again, he had been a little distracted by finally doing with Grantaire all the things they’d spent the better part of the last three years pretending they didn’t want to do to each other.

Speaking of Grantaire, he felt Grantaire’s stubble scratch across his bare shoulder as he rested his chin on his shoulder. “Still with the clock?” he asked, kissing Enjolras’s shoulder before brushing past him to the kitchen.

“What can I say, you didn’t seem like the kind of person who would have a clock in your apartment,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire laughed and shook his head, rummaging in the cabinet before emerging with a bag of coffee. “Just because I’m not known for being punctual doesn’t mean that I can’t own a clock,” he reasoned, measuring coffee into the coffee maker. “Besides, it has sentimental value. It’s a family heirloom.”

Enjolras raised both eyebrows at that, crossing over to take a closer look at the clock.

For as much noise as it made, it was a relatively small thing. Enjolras had been expecting some huge grandfather clock, all carved wood with gold accents. Instead, the wall clock was about a foot and a half long, its clock face and pendulum hidden behind unadorned glass, the word ‘REGULATOR’ printed on it in fading gold paint.

It didn’t look much like a family heirloom to him.

“I’m sure it doesn’t compare to whatever gilded monstrosities you probably inherited from your grandparents,” Grantaire said, shifting uncomfortably as he held a cup of coffee out to Enjolras, “but my grandparents had it for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always loved it.”

“I’m sure it’s a very nice clock,” Enjolras assured him as he took the outstretched mug, though he wasn’t really sure of that. “But, uh, is it always so…” He trailed off, trying to find the polite way of putting it. “Disruptive?”

“Pretty much,” Grantaire told him. “It doesn’t exactly have different settings, it’s either on or off.” Enjolras made a face and Grantaire hesitated before added, deliberately casual, “Of course, you’re probably never going to have to deal with it again, so…”

He trailed off and Enjolras glanced over at him. “Is that your attempt at a segue into the ‘are we going to do this again sometime’ conversation?” he asked.

Grantaire shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. “Depends on your answer.”

Enjolras shrugged as well. “Maybe,” he said, half-smiling before glancing critically at the clock. “But next time, we’re doing this at my place.”

Grantaire grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “Well,” he said, “I think I can handle that.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Six months later, Enjolras all but collapsed on his sofa, Grantaire following shortly after. “How do you have this much shit?” Enjolras asked with a groan.

Grantaire laughed tiredly, resting his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “I think the better question is, where the hell are we going to put all my shit,” he said with a yawn.

“Can we make that a tomorrow problem?” Enjolras asked.

“As if I’ve ever said no to procrastinating.”

Enjolras laughed and kissed the top of Grantaire’s head before standing, groaning as he did. Grantaire groaned as well. “Where are you going?” he demanded, pouting up at him.

Enjolras wove through the boxes stacked in his living room to the kitchen. “To get this,” he told Grantaire, pulling a bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator. “To celebrate moving in together.” He paused. “Of course, if you’re too tired—”

“Did I say that?” Grantaire asked, sitting up. “I am never too tired for champagne.”

“I thought that’s what you’d say,” Enjolras said sweetly, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet before starting to make his way back to Grantaire. “Of course, maybe we should save this until you unpack—”

He tripped over a box and swore. Grantaire yelped and jumped up, rushing to his side. “Are you ok?” he asked, and Enjolras smiled at him before realizing he was talking to the bottle of champagne.

“I’m fine,” he said sourly. “Though whatever I tripped over may not be. What the hell is in this box, anyway? Bricks?”

Grantaire glanced down at the box in question, his expression shifting. “Oh, probably just books,” he said, taking the champagne and glasses from Enjolras. “Nothing to worry about—”

But Enjolras had already bent to open the box, and his scowl deepened when he saw what was inside. “What the hell is this thing doing here?” he asked, glaring up at Grantaire, who had the good grace to at least look slightly ashamed.

“Um, well, see—”

“What was my one condition of you moving in here?” Enjolras interrupted.

Grantaire sighed. “That the clock doesn’t come with me.” Enjolras looked pointedly down at the clock in question, and Grantaire made a face. “Come on, it wasn’t exactly a realistic request. You know I love that clock.”

“More than you love me?” Enjolras asked.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.” Grantaire said evenly, setting the champagne and the glasses down on the coffee table. “Especially since that clock is part of what allows me to love you as much as I do.”

Enjolras’s eye narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re gone. A lot.” Grantaire’s voice was still even, and without accusation, but Enjolras still flinched. “It means that I spend a lot of time by myself. And that’s ok, because I knew what I was getting into when we started this, and I knew what I was agreeing to when I agreed to move in with you. But part of the reason why I can be ok with being by myself so much is because I have things that keep me sane, and keep me grounded, and the clock is one of those things. It stops me from losing my mind completely.”

“I get that,” Enjolras said, sitting down on the couch next to him. “But I really think the sound of it might make me lose my mind completely.”

Grantaire frowned. “And I get that. But we agreed when we decided to move in together that we would both have to compromise.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “This is something that I don’t think I can compromise on,” he told Grantaire. “There’s a reason I never spent the night at your place after that one time.”

“And here I thought it was because my place wasn’t up to your standards. “

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “They’re not my standards, they’re the health department’s standards, and, yes, that’s also true, but the clock didn’t hurt matters.” He made a face. “Or help them, however you want to look at it.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Fair enough. So here’s my proposal for a compromise: clock stays.” Enjolras opened his mouth to argue but Grantaire didn’t let him. “But it only stays on when you’re gone. When you get home, we turn it off, and I get to waste five minutes everyday correcting the time.”

As far as compromises went, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, Enjolras couldn’t help but ask, “And what if you forget? “

“Then I’m sure the first time it chimes when you get home after work, you’ll take a baseball bat to it and solve the problem for us,” Grantaire said dryly.

Enjolras snorted. “Don’t think I’m not tempted.”

Grantaire ignored him. “So what do you say? Compromise?”

“Compromise,” Enjolras agreed. “The clock can stay. For now.”

Grantaire grinned. “Good. Now let’s actually open this champagne.” He grabbed the champagne and opened it deftly so that none of it spilled, and he poured them both a glass before lifting his in a toast. “To compromise.”

“To the first of many compromises, I’m sure,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire laughed. “To understatements.”

Enjolras leaned in to kiss Grantaire. “To us,” he said softly.

Grantaire’s answering grin was enough to make the whole clock situation worth it. “To us.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“Hey,” Grantaire said from where he leaned against the doorjamb. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ostensibly securing permits for Les Amis’ next rally, which is proving more difficult than usual given that City Hall is all remote at the moment, and they’re not sure when the permit office will reopen.” Enjolras sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “I realize most people would enjoy a temporary work from home situation, but this is more or less my nightmare.”

Grantaire nodded slowly as he stepped into the second bedroom of their apartment that was currently functioning as Enjolras’s office. “Well, speaking of working from home…We need to talk.”

Enjolras frowned up at him. “That’s never an auspicious way to start a conversation.”

Grantaire didn’t smile. “Wait until you hear what the topic of the conversation is.”

“What?” Enjolras asked warily.

Grantaire sighed, perching on the edge of Enjolras’s desk. “We need to talk about the clock.”

“No,” Enjolras said immediately. “Absolutely not. We settled that matter two years ago.”

“Yes, but some things have changed,” Grantaire said evenly. “Namely, there’s a global pandemic that’s forced everyone who can, including and especially you, to work from home for the foreseeable future. And while I love having you home during the day and have only wanted to throttle you a few times over the past couple weeks, this is turning out to be more permanent than either of us were expecting.”

“Only because half of this country is determined to kill everyone,” Enjolras muttered. “But what does that have to do with the clock?”

Grantaire gave him a look. “Our compromise doesn’t really work with you working from home.”

Enjolras sighed. “I know, but it’s only for a little longer—”

“Do you honestly believe that?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras made a face. “Not really,” he admitted.

Grantaire nodded, looking only a little self-satisfied. “Which is why we need to revisit the compromise,” he said. “So even though I know the clock drives you nuts, I would like you to at least try. Just for a few days. Because I need the noise or I can’t get any work done.” Enjolras shook his head but Grantaire didn’t let him interrupt. “And before you tell me that your work is more important—”

“I wasn’t going to,” Enjolras said, a little sullenly, even though an argument in that vein had been formulating in his head.

“—I just want to remind you that at the moment, my graphic design work is our only active source of income,” Grantaire said. “And with the hit the market has been taking, your trust fund may have seen better days.”

Enjolras just made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat. “Believe me, my trust fund will be fine,” he said dismissively. “If there’s one area of the economy we can trust the government to actually bail out…”

Grantaire barked a laugh. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He hesitated. “But still. Can we please try? Just for a few days.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Enjolras asked. “If I can’t get used to it?”

Grantaire sighed. “Then we’ll have to figure something else out.”

Enjolras crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You’re asking an awful lot from me.”

He meant it as a joke, but Grantaire’s expression darkened. “Need I remind you that I gave up my office so that you could work out of it? That even though you’re now home just as much as me, I haven’t asked you to take over any of the laundry or cooking or cleaning that I also do while doing my job that remains our only source of active income? Or—”

Enjolras held his hands up defensively. “I’m sorry, it was a joke,” he said quietly. “And clearly not a good one.” He sighed. “Fine, we can try it.”

Grantaire instantly brightened. “Really?”

“Really,” Enjolras said firmly. “Compromise, remember?” He hesitated before adding, “And speaking of, I am more than happy to take over some of the cooking and cleaning and laundry and whatever else you need me to.”

“And you will,” Grantaire assured him, leaning in to kiss him. “But I have to train you first, so let’s not run before we can walk.”

He patted Enjolras’s cheek, and Enjolras scowled. “You need to train me?” he repeated.

“Enjolras, you managed to break the dishwasher the first and only time you ever loaded it,” Grantaire said patiently. “Yeah, you need some training.”

There wasn’t really any argument that Enjolras could make to counter that, so he settled for huffing a sigh and turning back to his desk. “Just go start the damn clock up before I change my mind.”

Grantaire laughed “I love you,” he said, kissing the top of Enjolras’s head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Enjolras grumbled, even though he couldn’t quite stop his smile.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Morning,” Grantaire said, tipping his head back so that Enjolras could kiss him as he walked by the kitchen table. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” Enjolras told him with a yawn. “I didn’t hear you get up.”

Grantaire made a face. “I had a deadline. They wanted my design for New Year’s Eve 2021 even though it’s still a month away—” He broke off when Enjolras stopped in his tracks in the middle of the kitchen. “ What’s wrong?”

“The clock,” Enjolras said blankly, and Grantaire frowned.

“What about the clock?” he asked. “It’s been almost two years, you can’t tell me that the thing’s still driving you nuts.”

Enjolras turned to frown at him. “No, it’s stopped ticking.”

Grantaire listened for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh, shit, you’re right,” he said. “Maybe it needs to be wound.”

Enjolras shook his head, his brow furrowing. “I just wound it yesterday.”

Grantaire’s face fell. “Maybe it needs to be leveled?” he suggested.

“Maybe,” Enjolras said, somewhat doubtfully, though he quickly added when he saw the look on Grantaire’s face, “I’ll play around with it today, see if I can get it ticking again.”

Grantaire tried to smile. “Well look at you, caring about the clock. I knew it would grow on you.”

“Yeah, like cancer,” Enjolras muttered.

“Hilarious,” Grantaire said, standing up. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Ok,” Enjolras said, finally going to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Grantaire lingered for a moment. “In case you were curious, that was an invitation.”

Enjolras took a sip of coffee, a slow smile crossing his face. “Well, no need to twist my arm,” he said, setting his coffee on the counter before following Grantaire to the bathroom.

But while a very satisfied Grantaire took a post-shower nap, Enjolras returned to the clock. Despite his best efforts, despite several DIY YouTube videos and carefully removing the clock’s back to adjust the gears and mechanism, the clock would still only tick for a few minutes and then stop.

When Grantaire emerged for lunch, he gave Enjolras a confused look. “Are you still working on that?” he asked, opening the refrigerator and glancing inside. “I figured you’d be relieved the thing had finally stopped.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be, too, but…” Enjolras shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “Not that it matters, because we’ve hit a wall in what I can do. At least, without me accidentally breaking it.”

“Good thing I’m not into you for how handy you are,” Grantaire teased, kissing the top of Enjolras’s head before sitting down next to him. “But that’s ok. I love this clock, you know that, but it’s old.” He said it bracingly, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Enjolras. “I’ll look up some white noise on YouTube or something. It won’t be the same but it’ll get the job done.”

“Yeah, ok,” Enjolras said vaguely, still absorbed in the article he had pulled up on Google about mechanical clocks.

Grantaire rolled his eyes affectionately and stood. “I’ll let you keep working,” he told him, heading back into the bedroom.

Enjolras waited until he heard the door close before he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he had just Googled. “Hi, my name is Enjolras,” he said. “I’m hoping you can help me with something.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Enjolras felt Grantaire shift against him as he woke up, and he groaned. “Is it morning already?” he asked.

Grantaire laughed softly. “It’s not just morning,” he told him, tilting his head up to kiss him. “It’s Christmas morning.”

Enjolras smiled down at him. “In that case, Merry Christmas, Grantaire.”

“Merry Christmas, Enjolras.”

Grantaire sat up in bed and stretched. “So I know we’re going to Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s for dinner, but I was thinking—”

BONG.

Grantaire’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute, is that—”

He was out of bed like a child that had realized Santa had come, and Enjolras grinned, even as he took his time in following.

“The clock!” Grantaire shouted from the living room.

Enjolras wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s waist from behind and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas,” he repeated, resting his chin on Grantaire’s shoulder as they both looked at the clock, back in its place on the wall but this time with a red gift bow stuck on top.

Grantaire turned around to kiss him properly. “But how—”

“I took it to a clock repairman,” Enjolras told him. “You would not believe how few of those there are these days, but I managed to track one down, this old German man who, thankfully, said it wasn’t broken. Just needed to be cleaned and oiled.”

Grantaire shook his head slowly. “But why?” he asked. “You hate that thing.”

“I used to,” Enjolras said honestly. “But then – I don’t know. I guess I realized that sometimes it’s not about compromise. Sometimes it’s about learning to live with someone exactly as they are, and realizing that they’ve changed your life so much that you can’t live without them.”

Grantaire grinned up at him. “That would be incredibly romantic if you were saying it about me and not the clock.”

Enjolras leaned in to kiss him before saying, his voice low, “Who says it can’t be about both?”

Grantaire returned his kiss, wrapping his arms around Enjolras’s neck. “I love you.” he told him.

“I love you, too,” Enjolras said.

“Are you saying that to me or the clock?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Grantaire,” he sighed.

Grantaire laughed. “Kidding,” he assured him. “Mostly, anyway.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and Grantaire kissed him once more before heading into the kitchen to make coffee. Enjolras glanced at the clock, unable to stop his smile at the familiar sound that he hadn’t even realized he would miss until it was gone.

Then he followed Grantaire into the kitchen for another piece of familiarity with the man he had never expected to have built a life with, but just like the damned clock, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #ask #answered #lenathesingingcat #spotify wrapped meme

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! characters and their fave musicals

pretty much an hc’s for funsies type of thing. which characters are absolute nerds for musicals and which ones couldn’t care less? i know not everyone likes musicals but if this is your thing, feel free to read!

Hinata: he’s one of those people who watched Shrek the Musical unironically and ended up getting really hooked on it but no way is he going to tell anyone

Kageyama: thinks that the Shrek trilogy are counted as movie musicals because ‘the characters sing and everything’. will fall asleep in a theatre so don’t bring him you’ll be disappointed

Tsukishima: loves Avenue Q and The Producers because the humor is right up his alley. also has tASTE and his fave is probs something like Hadestown because it is the best musical. loves to break down the lyrics and listens to an album non-stop when he’s obsessed

Yamaguchi: he tried to watch Grease but ended up throwing popcorn at the tv-screen because of the blatant sexism. yams is not About That. gets his recommendations from Tsukki and has never looked back

Tanaka: likes anything with awesome choreography and really cool special-effects like Hamilton or Be More Chill. when you ask him about the story though he’s like ???

Noya: doesn’t get the concept of musicals. ‘she’s singing about the guy but he’s right there??? doesn’t he hear everything????’ ‘WHY ARE THEY SINGING JUST FIGHT ALREADY’

Ennoshita: also has Taste. watches pretty much anything and loves to keep track of new productions and new casting. if you ask him about his favorite musical he’ll probably specifically mention the cast and where it was performed

Asahi: y’all are gonna hate me y’all are gonna hate me but JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR haha jk. one hundred percent a Dear Evan Hansen kinda guy because he relates to the main guy’s personality. has waving through a window on repeat

Sugawara: LOVES the classics: Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, Miss Saigon. knows every song and movement by heart. sings them everywhere. would not listen to anything else. also Moulin Rouge because he’s one Classy Bitch

Daichi: appreciates any good musical recommended to him but the kind of person who presses ‘shuffle’ when listening to the recording and all the fans around him die inside. does this more than once just for that reaction

Kiyoko: loves anything with awesome female roles, particularly Legally Blonde and Six the Musical. raises an eyebrow at you if you say you like Grease and you land on her list of people she would barely talk to

Yachi: practically raised on disney movie musicals. loves to watch and re-watch videos from Broadway Princess Party a lot. is basically a disney princess herself and loves to put some songs on when she cleans the house.

Kuroo: one of those people who got really into Hamilton back in the day. would sing the vocals, the back-up vocals, the chorus parts, and hum the intros. says he’s a musical fan but that’s the only one he’s watched/listened to.

Kenma: someone recommended Be More Chill to him (probably tsukki) and he ended up actually liking it. once in a while you’ll hear him humming ‘christiiiiIIiine’ under his breath. likes to listen to michael in the bathroom at 2 am

Yaku: hates musicals ever since Nekoma had a movie night and then decided to watch Lion King and lev dead-ass lifted him up over his head like what rafiki did to simba in That Scene.

Lev: another one who likes disney musicals but like, the basic ones (frozen, tangled, beauty and the beast). mostly because they’re his sister’s favorites tho. has more than once did the whole ‘do you want to build a snowman’ thing with alisa and probably his teammates

Oikawa: thinks that liking Heathers makes him edgy it doesn’t. practically paid hanamaki and matsukawa to sing Candy Store with him and using iwa as veronica. absolutely vibes to the Mean Girls musical

Iwaizumi: a hard High School Musical stan, now and forever. thinks that Ryan and Chad are definitely gay. one time oikawa was giving them a pep talk and said ‘what team?’ and iwa yelled ‘WILDCATS’ and then everybody looked at him because they KNEW they KNEW HE NEVER GOT OVER THAT PHASE--

Matsukawa: Cats. The Movie.* wrote a long-ass thread on twitter about why the female cats should be given six boob and tagged Tom Hooper. was blocked.

Hanamaki: *see above. probably had his sexual awakening when he saw Idris Elba as a sexy cat. there’s nothing gendered about a sexy cat

Kyoutani: likes the leather jacket aesthetic in Grease. looked up the lyrics to ‘Greased Lightning’ once and shut off his laptop when he saw the innuendos. may have tried to replicate the choreography at one point but fell off a table

Yahaba: a romantic at heart. has a copy of the West Side Story DvD and loves to sing ‘Maria’ and ‘One Hand, One Heart.’ he and Oikawa love to duet ‘I Feel Pretty.’ also tried to copy the choreography and sUCCEEDED

Ushijima: you’ve taken him to see an array of musicals, from the much-loved classics to the inventive modern musicals. every time, you glance at him hoping for any reaction. he always leaves the theater saying ‘it was good.’ only one musical has managed to make him crack a smile: The Muppets (the movie ver.)

Tendou: another boy with Quality Taste. is a hardcore stan of any musical by Team Starkid (also loves that they’re all on Youtube). makes so many references to them but nobody else understands. will yell ‘TIGERFUCKER TIGERFUCKER’ out of the blue

Shirabu: thinks that La La Land is Peak Taste. got angry when tendou showed him a video of ryan gosling scenes in the movie but it’s all replaced by barry, the bee from Bee Movie. now La La Land is ruined because he keeps on remembering ‘you like jazz?’ in barry’s voice

Semi: tells you that he just doesn’t watch musicals but he secretly had such a Les Miz phase. writes enjolras x reader fanfics and his longest one was 200k words. if he hears anything that vaguely sounds like ‘do you hear the people sing’, a tear will fall out of the corner of his eye

Goshiki: was looking for slime tutorials one and stumbled on ‘not hamilton just a 2 hr slime tutorial’ y’all kno what i’m talking about and watched the whole thing. was disappointed that there weren’t any slimes but is now into hamilton

Akaashi: knows and understands the peak performance quality and biblical philosophy of Jesus Christ Superstar. doesn’t tell anyone about it though because they all assume its all church music. ‘it’s not’, he sobs. ‘it’s more.’

Bokuto: akaashi recommended Jesus Christ Superstar to him and he watched it, thinking that he’d see jesus playing an electric guitar. he was very disappointed and sulked about it for a week. LOVES disney musicals though

Atsumu: was one of those kids who would look up the Harry Potter Puppet Pals videos on youtube and stumbled in to A Very Potter Musical. ever since jk rowling’s snake side came out he began accepting that fan musical as canon. likes to piss rowling off by posting screenshots of the musical and saying its from the movie

Osamu: the Disney fan but with Quality Taste. loves Hunchback of Notre Dame, Princess and the Frog, Prince of Egypt, and Anastasia (the last two aren’t disney but animated musicals). cries at the sound of Phil Collins’ sultry voice.

Kita: is in love with Phantom of the Opera because his grandmother loves listening to it. he’d sing THE ENTIRE SOUNDTRACK pretty much every day until his teammates catch him singing in the locker rooms while they were changing AND NAILING ALL OF CHRISTINE’S HIGH NOTES LIKE ITS NOTHING

Terushima: doesn’t like musicals so his friend recommended that he watch The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals by Team Starkid because of the crackhead humor. watched Robert Manion perform and ending up going on google and searching ‘does watching men move their hips real nice make me bi?’

Koganegawa: y’all are gonna be surprised but this one’s a hardcore Wicked fan. has watched all of the different castings of it. he loves to imitate Elphaba’s iconic ‘FIEEEEROOOOOOO’ line in the showers and records it, just to see if he’s close to how it sounds onstage. has Idina Menzel’s autograph

Futakuchi: bitch does nothing but roast everyone else’s musical tastes. hamilton? ‘wow, mainstream much?’ dear evan hansen? ‘psshh, basic.’ be more chill? ‘think you’re edgy or something?’ the greatest show? ‘what are you? five?’ his favorite musical is actually Cats

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons #hc's for funsies #haikyuu!! characters + their fave musicals #i watch a certain amount of musicals #and i thought this would be fun #don't mind me lowkey dragging some of y'all's musical tastes #feel free to download

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anhed-nia · 4 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/28/2020: HOCUS POCUS (sigh)

I knew that I would not like this movie. I didn't see it as a kid, because we didn't have cable, but it's hard for me to imagine that it would have struck me positively. It's not that I was so sophisticated, but I liked my children's entertainment with a dash of darkness, or at least something challenging--especially if it was supposed to be somehow horror-adjacent. For me, things had to be at least on the level of LABYRINTH, with its various ambivalent creatures and monster sexuality in the person of David Bowie, or LEGEND, with its various ambivalent creatures and actually-monstrous sexuality in the person of Tim Curry, or...whatever other children's fare there is, that expects a little extra substance from its child audience, that's a little sexy and a little scary, and basically, at least kind of cool. And I'm not being a snob; you can say these same things about a lot of classic Disney movies. But in spite of its dual status as both a Disney- and cult classic, HOCUS POCUS is not at all cool. Just because it's such a Halloween thing for people, I figured I would watch it for Blogtober this year, and I have to say...I still don't get it.

I do not often feel my age, as my continued presence on Tumblr attests. There are just a few things that starkly separate me from my near-peers. One of them is Pokemon; when someone who seems like they're more or less my contemporary starts speaking in a personal way about Pokemon, I know that they're on the exact other side of some invisible dividing line in time. Another sign is enthusiasm for a certain stripe of Nickelodeon production, that mainly seems to feature a lot of shrill screaming and strobing lights and baby talk, in shows I didn't grow up with so I'll never understand what's good about them. It appears to me that HOCUS POCUS is part of the trend here: folks slightly younger than me, who saw it every October on the Disney Channel, seem to really get whatever the appeal of this is.

It is somehow telling that nearly every screencap I could find from this movie is just of these three standing in a row and filling the screen. Like it’s basically the entire visual character of the movie.

What "this" is, is a movie about a kid from LA (Omri Katz) who moves to Salem, Mass, just in time to unwittingly light a ceremonial candle on a Halloween full moon (which we are about to have BTW!), which brings the evil Sanderson Sisters back from the dead. These villains (not victims, VILLAINS) of Salem's witch hunt era can't understand really basic shit like whether plastic tubes are "snakes" or whether asphalt is black water or various other things that should be pretty visually obvious even if you're from the 1600s, but the truth is that it doesn't really matter what they think or feel, because they're just here to shriek and mug and jiggle around and do unwelcome musical numbers. At this point, I really have to apologize; I usually harness myself to the task of thoughtfully describing whatever movie I've assigned myself, no matter what I expect from it, but this was just really difficult.

Ew.

I've read that this movie was originally conceived as more of a kid-friendly horror movie, but it eventually morphed into something more satisfying to the Mouse. Various themes emerge and evaporate, expressing nothing. The "cool" LA native is actually a virgin, which is why his lighting the candle resurrects the witches, but instead of this triggering a coming of age narrative, it just becomes a reason to awkwardly repeat the word "virgin" over and over. Nothing in particular is contributed to our understanding of this character, and I had to wonder if some christian parents' group threatened to picket Disney's witch movie unless it harped on a random virtue like virginity. That would actually follow, given that HOCUS POCUS is a movie that casually sides with witch hunters whose religious mania and misogyny caused the deaths of at least 25 people during the era in which the hilariously kooky Sanderson Sisters are meant to have terrorized the town. Meanwhile, in modern times, their goal is to "steal the lives" of children to create an immortality potion. I don't know why they have to keep saying "steal their lives". It makes no sense to me. I get that maybe they can't say that the Sandersons KILL children--I know this isn't WARLOCK. But it's not even THE WITCHES, in either the Roeg or Zemeckis version; you have little idea what they do to the children. You'd think they could say "steal their souls", or something else that we vaguely understand from watching a lot of movies, but no. HOCUS POCUS just asks a lot from me, in terms of my ability to find it interesting that witches are running around and they must be stopped.

The witches’ grimoire, the best part of the movie, doesn’t have nearly enough to do.

The witches, Kathy Najimy, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Bette Midler, really just run around screaming for most of the movie. I would agree that this must be stopped, and I only regret that it took like 96 minutes for this to happen. I don't even blame the ladies for this movie's lack of charisma; it's pretty clear that they're just doing what a movie this loud and tacky requires. And at my most open-minded, I can acknowledge that it's good for little kids to see female characters who are wacky and confident, and not at all sexy or romantic. But I don't find any of this at all fun, personally. I don't care about the LA virgin who is dressed as a "rap singer" for Halloween, even though he looks more like a white separatist in his fatigue green bomber jacket and dad jeans. I don't care about the talking cat, voiced by Disney standby Jason Marsden who is not really up to the task of doing a british accent. I don't care about bland hot chick Vinessa Shaw, or the cool kid's spunky kid sister, even if she is played by Thora Birch. Doug Jones makes an appearance as a friendly zombie, which could have been fun, but...I shouldn't be surprised that it isn't.

Actually, the only thing I found at all provocative about HOCUS POCUS was the bullies. At first, I did not understand that they were supposed to be bullies. Wannabe rapper "Ice" and his buddy Jay, who by all appearances should be looking around for a church to burn, are unlikely friends and even unlikelier neighborhood threats. When I first saw them, I thought maybe they were going to be the hero's new pals--misfits like himself who have nothing in common but their misfit-ness. But then they shake the kid down for money, and ruin Halloween for little trick-or-treaters, and it's like...oh, these are "bad guys"? Why? Who would ever put up with them? I was alive in a small town during the time that this movie is supposed to take place, and I was very aware of scary teenagers then. The guys in this movie would never have been taken seriously, regardless of physical ability, and worse than that, they do not serve any purpose in this purposeless narrative. Anyway, it's pretty obvious that I don't have much to say about HOCUS POCUS, and watching it was basically a mistake. However, I do have one nutritious morsel to leave you with, courtesy iMDB's trivia page. You can all take heart in the fact that even a really dumb, useless movie can sometimes reveal something about life that you never imagined:

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opera-simplified · 4 years ago

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Opera Simplified #3: Benvenuto Cellini

Benvenuto Cellini

Opera Simplified #3

The Basics:

Music: Hector Berlioz

Libretto: Henri Auguste Barbier and Léon de Wailly

Premiere: September 10, 1838; Salle le Peletier, Paris, France

Based on [very loosely]: Vita (Life), Benvenuto Cellini’s autobiography

Setting: Rome, the final days of Carnival, 1532

Characters:

Benvenuto Cellini, a goldsmith and sculptor—tenor

Teresa Balducci, his girlfriend—soprano

Fieramosca, her fiancé and the Pope’s official sculptor—baritone**

Giacomo Balducci, her father and the Pope’s treasurer—bass-baritone

Ascanio, Cellini’s apprentice—mezzo-soprano

Pope Clément VII, duh, the boss of the Roman Catholic Church—bass*

Francesco, one of Cellini’s assistants—tenor

Bernardino, another of Cellini’s assistants—bass

Pompeo, a swordsman and Fieramosca’s friend—baritone**

A Tavern Owner—tenor

A player in Cassandro’s troupe acting as Colombine—spoken

Requested by: @monotonous-minutia (once again, thank you both for enthusiastically reading this over and for making some of the videos featured in this Opera Simplified!)

*The Paris Opéra would not allow the Pope to be portrayed onstage for the premiere, so the character became Cardinal Salvati, although his music and function in the story remained identical. However, as it should be, virtually all available performances and recordings revert to the Pope, so as such (and according to Berlioz’s intentions), I will revert as well.

**Fieramosca and Pompeo were both originally intended to be played by tenors (according to the cast list given in the Bärenreiter critical edition), but they are universally played by baritones.

Additional Notes Before We Go: There are three versions of this opera: the first version (which I will call 1838 Original version) was the version that Berlioz initially presented to the Paris Opéra; the second (which I will call 1838 Premiere version) was the score actually performed in the initial run (which flopped) after cuts and censorship; the third version, which premiered in 1852 in the city of Weimar (thus it being called the Weimar version), had other cuts and more rearranging of sections in Act II.

In an attempt to follow both Berlioz’s intentions and modern performance/recording practice, this Opera Simplified will mostly follow the 1838 Original version, albeit with some elements from other versions. Those elements will be discussed by scene in the notes.

Also: Berlioz did envision the opera with spoken dialogue; recordings are split on the issue, although only one of the five productions I have watched uses spoken dialogue.

Finally, thanks to my university’s Fine Arts Library for having a very diverse collection of opera scores, including a Bärenreiter critical edition vocal-piano score of Benvenuto Cellini, which I consulted while researching and writing this Opera Simplified.

The Opera:

Benvenuto Cellini overture

Roman Carnival Overture (not to be confused with the opera’s actual overture (given above), although this uses two very lovely tunes from Act I of the opera)

Act I:

Scene 1:

Sunset on Shrove Monday, inside the Balducci house. At left is a table with two chairs. There are two doors, one on the left and one at the back. There is also a window at the right, where Teresa is standing and watching the Carnival revellers. Balducci enters, having just gotten dressed.

Balducci: Teresa!

*Crickets.*

Teresa! Where is she?

*Ditto.*

TERESA!

*Ditto.*

TERESA I’M NOT CALLING YOU AGAIN GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW WHERE ARE YOU

*Ditto, but this time he sees her.*

TERESA I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU THAT YOU WEREN’T ALLOWED TO BE BY THE WINDOW ARE YOU DEAF

*Teresa reluctantly leaves the window.*

Fine time for daydreaming; I’ve been calling you for FOREVER! Look, the Pope’s waiting for me, could you be a nice daughter and get me my stuff? My walking stick, my gloves, my dagger, that collection of papers…?

*She hands him each in turn.*

Ugh, I can’t BELIEVE that the Pope is making me come in all the time, especially this late, every morning, every night it’s always “BALDUCCI WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE SCULPTURE COMMISSION WITH CELLINI BLAH BLAH BLAH” and it’s EXHAUSTING. I mean, not to question the Pope or anything because that would be bad and sacrilegious and all, but the Pope has Fieramosca, who is not only a perfectly good sculptor and future son-in-law but also the official papal sculptor anyway, so why is he getting some lazy libertine metalworker from Florence, of all places, to make this sculpture? **

*He leaves, grumbling.*

Teresa: FINALLY HE’S LEAVING

*Balducci immediately returns.*

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

Balducci: Just to make sure that nothing happens while I’m gone, lemme give you a Quick Fatherly Lecture™ because of course that will be effective! Come here and listen closely. ***

WELL, YA GOT TROUBLE, MY CHILD, RIGHT HERE I SAY YA GOT TROUBLE RIGHT HERE IN THE ETERNAL CITY—shoot where was I going with this okay start over

NEVER LOOK AT THE MOON EVER BECAUSE LOOKING AT THE MOON IS THE LITTLE SEEMINGLY INNOCENT STEP THAT LEADS TO LIVES BEING RUINED AND YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO SLEEP AGAIN BECAUSE YOU’LL BE TOO BUSY HAVING CATHOLIC GUILT AND REGRETTING ALL YOUR LIFE CHOICES YOU COQUETTISH GIRLS NEED TO WATCH YOUR HEARTS AND KEEP THEM PURE AND ALL THE OTHER STUFF YOU SHOULD’VE LEARNED AT SUNDAY SCHOOL AND THE WORLD IS A CRAZY, BAD PLACE ALSO YOU SHOULD ALWAYS WEAR A MASK (not just because masks help save lives during pandemics although that’s not the kind of mask I’m talking about at this moment) ALSO MEN ARE HIDEOUS AND APPEARANCES ARE DECEIVING AND UH THERE ARE A LOT OF DEMONS OUT THERE I GUESS SO WATCH OUT

*He leaves again. Teresa watches to make sure he is absolutely gone.*

Teresa: OKAY HE’S LEAVING FOR REAL THIS TIME

First off, that lecture made no sense whatsoever; second off, that was, like, literally torture or martyrdom or something; third off, I’m so relieved! I can breathe and relax and not worry again!

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: *outside, in the street* TRALALALALALA DE PROFUNDIS SOMETHING SOMETHING CARNIVAL WILL BURY SOMEONE TONIGHT TRALALALA ALL YOU FELLOW YOUNG ONES LIVE WELL AND NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE STOP CRYING AND ENJOY LIFE AND DRINK TO LUNDI GRAS AND TO CARNIVAL VIVA CARNIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

*Yet again, Balducci returns.*

Balducci: WHERE’S ALL THIS RACKET COMING FROM

Teresa: uggggggggggggggggggh not again hey Dad aren’t you supposed to be going to a meeting with the Pope

Balducci: I KNOW oh great all this noise is right outside I need to speak to whoever the noise control manager is I’M PRETTY SURE CELLINI AND HIS WILD CROWD IS MAKING ALL THIS NOISE TERESA AVOID ALL OF THEM AT ALL COSTS

*Cellini and his buddies throw what appears to be white confetti up through the window; they are actually white plaster pellets, which leave white dust all over Balducci.*

ARE YOU KIDDING ME I JUST GOT THIS NICE NEW OUTFIT AND THEY HAVE TO GO AND RUIN IT RIGHT BEFORE I’M SUPPOSED TO MEET WITH THE POPE IT’S TOO LATE TO CHANGE NOW SO I GUESS I’LL JUST HAVE TO GO LOOKING LIKE THIS YOU DAMN TUSCAN BOY I’LL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU SOMEDAY

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: LONG LIVE JOY LET’S BE HAPPY BECAUSE GOD GAVE US HAPPINESS AND LIFE SO LET’S NOT CRY AND INSTEAD JUST BE HAPPY

Teresa: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA DAD YOU LOOK LIKE A LEOPARD OR SOMETHING

Balducci: YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY DON’T YOU WELL IT ISN’T AND IN ANY CASE I DO LOOK LIKE A LEOPARD AND I HATE IT

*Teresa approaches the window and is immediately showered with flowers.*

TO THINK THAT OAF COULD EVER BE MY SON-IN-LAW I MEAN SERIOUSLY I WOULD RATHER BE HANGED THAN LET CELLINI MARRY YOU A CURSE ON THIS LAZY LIBERTINE FLORENTINE

Teresa: WELL DAD GET USED TO IT BECAUSE SOMEDAY HE’S GONNA BE YOUR SON-IN-LAW BECAUSE I’M GONNA MARRY HIM BECAUSE I’M COLOMBINE AND HE’S LÉANDRE AND WE’RE IN LOVE AND MEANT TO BE

I mean, me the wife of Cassandro? Could you imagine? A CURSE ON THE GUY YOU WANT ME TO MARRY ****

Cellini, Francesco, Bernardino, and Their Fellow Revellers: TRALALALALALA DE PROFUNDIS SOMETHING SOMETHING CARNIVAL WILL BURY SOMEONE TONIGHT TRALALALA ALL YOU FELLOW YOUNG ONES LIVE WELL AND NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE STOP CRYING AND ENJOY LIFE AND DRINK TO LUNDI GRAS AND TO CARNIVAL VIVA CARNIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

*Balducci leaves again.*

Teresa: Third time’s the charm...third time’s the charm...third time’s the charm…

*Balducci has truly left.*

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, these are all such pretty flowers, I can’t believe they threw all of these up here just for me...

*She sees a bouquet among all the flowers scattered around.*

Ooh, this is a lovely bouquet!

*She picks it up and a note falls out.*

A note? From Cellini! Oh goodness, bold as always like that, but honestly I kinda like it.

*She opens it.*

What?! He’s coming here, tonight, for a date?! My God! Well, my dad isn’t here and he’ll be busy for a while, so this is the perfect time! What to do now…?

When you’re torn between love and duty, you have a lot of problems and angst you just want to complain about to everyone but you can’t because no one will listen to you and everyone will judge you and it really sucks. It especially sucks because you have to fear what you desire and you can’t even hope for anything good in this world. I mean, how are you supposed to pretend that you don’t feel what your heart feels and that you’re not looking at what your eyes see? Life sometimes...well, you know what? I’m not having it!

Dad, I love you, and maybe when I’m as old as you I’ll be smarter and sadder and wiser and all that, but I’m young! I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, just waiting for me to live it to the fullest! It would be such a waste to be dull and unhappy!

Someday I’ll be old, and I don’t know, be a grandma maybe, and then it’ll be fine! Love won’t matter then! But I’m young now, and I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, and I want to live it while it’s still there! *****

*Cellini enters.*

CELLINI!

*She moves a little away.*

Cellini: Teresa, it’s alright! Don’t run away!

Teresa: Cellini, I love you but I’m not sure this is gonna work.

Cellini: You’re killin’ me here!

*Noise from outside.*

Teresa: WHAT WAS THAT

Cellini: It’s fine, I promise—

Teresa: NO I’M DONE FOR AND YOU NEED TO LEAVE BECAUSE MY DAD’S PROBABLY BACK AGAIN

Cellini: No, it’s just my friends celebrating Carnival outside. I promise. It’ll be okay, don’t worry.

Oh, Teresa, you are my happiness and I love you more than life itself! I’ve learned that if I’m far away from you, I lose all hope and happiness!

*Fieramosca, who has somehow gotten into the house unnoticed, tiptoes in while holding an enormous bouquet.*

Fieramosca: You don’t win girls by breaking locks and being all macho and stuff like that; you simply sneak in on tiptoe and that’s how you steal their hearts! I mean, I guess that’s how it works.

Teresa: I love you but this is crazy! Part of me just wants to abandon all of this but a part of me deep down knows we can never see each other again…

Fieramosca: She’s not alone! I thought her dad was leaving but maybe he’s actually here? No, wait, that can’t be him—oh, I can’t believe she’s alone with another guy!

Cellini: NO I SWEAR BY ALL THE SAINTS AND THE VIRGIN THAT LOVE WILL NEVER ABANDON YOU TO FIERAMOSCA

Fieramosca: OH MY GOD IT’S CELLINI I NEED TO HIDE

Cellini: I’M NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU NEVER GONNA MAKE YOU CRY NEVER GONNA SAY GOODBYE NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE AND HURT YOU

Fieramosca: *who is now hiding...somewhere* at least pick a good song, dammit ******

Teresa: MAY MY PATRON SAINT SAVE ME FROM THE DISASTER AND SHAME OF HAVING TO MARRY FIERAMOSCA ALSO IF I HAVE TO MARRY HIM I’LL DIE

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only I could speak aloud or even whisper a word so they could hear me

Cellini: If I have to leave you, my life, my love, I’ll lose all hope…

Teresa: I really don’t know if this’ll work out...I want it to, but I’ll probably never be able to see you again…

Cellini: You marry FIERAMOSCA?! They want you to marry that stupid little such-and-such?!

Teresa: Me?! His WIFE?! I’D RATHER DIE THE CRUELLEST POSSIBLE DEATH A HUNDRED TIMES THAN MARRY HIM

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only I had my sword instead of this stupid bouquet because obviously I didn’t bring both because obviously you can’t bring both

Cellini: CHILL honey don’t go straight to dying seriously why is that every young soprano’s go-to instead let’s plan to find a way to happiness!

Teresa: And your idea is…?

Fieramosca: if only I had my sword

Cellini: ALRIGHT THEN LISTEN UP

Teresa: shhhhhhh speak more softly what if someone hears us

Cellini: well there’s no one else here but I’ll speak more softly for you

Teresa: good point about no one else being here but thanks

Cellini: So tomorrow evening, Mardi Gras celebrations—

Teresa: Tomorrow evening, at Mardi Gras—

Fieramosca: Mardi Gras?

Cellini: Don’t miss the celebration; be there at the Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: what are they saying I can’t hear them well

Teresa: Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhh I think they said Piazza Colonna—

Cellini: where Cassandro—

Teresa: Cassandro—

Fieramosca: Cassandro?

Cellini: Is presenting a new show—

Fieramosca: wait what I didn’t hear about that I didn’t know they were doing a new show

Cellini: While your dad is watching the show, you’ll take the arm of a monk in brown—

Teresa: the arm of a monk in brown—

Fieramosca: I didn’t catch like any of that

Cellini: and one in white—

Teresa: one in white—

Fieramosca: white?

Cellini: One will be your lover—

Teresa: You!

Fieramosca: Him?

Cellini: And the other, my apprentice—

Teresa: Your apprentice—

Fieramosca: His apprentice?

Cellini: I’ll take you away—

Teresa: You’ll take me away—

Fieramosca: wait what

Cellini: to Florence—

Teresa: To Florence!

Fieramosca: Florence?

Cellini and Teresa: We’ll go to Florence together and get married and be happy for the rest of our lives!

Fieramosca: wait WHAT

Teresa: Wait, but what about my dad? I can’t just leave him—and also isn’t this kinda an offense against God?

Cellini: What? Teresa, that’s just your Intense Catholic Guilt™ again. If anyone’s offending God around here, it’s your father because he wants to rob you of all your life and love by putting you in a convent or even worse, marrying you off to Fieramosca!

Teresa: NOT FIERAMOSCA NO I’M NOT MARRYING HIM

Fieramosca: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh if only Balducci were here to see this

Teresa: WHO AM I KIDDING I CAN’T BEAR THE THOUGHT OF MARRYING HIM ALRIGHT I’LL DO THIS TAKE HEART WE’LL BE HAPPY TOMORROW EVENING

Cellini: Should we go over all the details of the plan again?

Teresa: YES!

Cellini: More softly, remember, Teresa, more softly like you said…

*Fieramosca moves closer in order to hear better.*

Tomorrow evening, at the Mardi Gras celebrations—

Teresa: Tomorrow evening, at Mardi Gras—

Cellini: Don’t miss the celebration—

Teresa: I won’t miss it—

Fieramosca: I most certainly won’t miss it—

Cellini: be there at the Piazza Colonna—

Teresa: Piazza Colonna—

Fieramosca: Piazza Colonna—

Cellini: where Cassandro—

Teresa: Cassandro—

Fieramosca: Cassandro—

Cellini: Is presenting a new show—

Teresa: A new show—

Fieramosca: A new show—

Cellini: While your dad is watching the show, you’ll take the arm of a monk in brown—

Teresa: the arm of a monk in brown—

Fieramosca: the arm of a monk in brown—

Cellini: and one in white—

Teresa: one in white—

Fieramosca: and one in white—

Cellini: One will be your lover—

Teresa: You!

Fieramosca: Him?

Teresa: Got it.

Cellini: And the other, my apprentice—

Teresa: Your apprentice—

Fieramosca: His apprentice!

Cellini: I’ll take you away—

Teresa: You’ll take me away—

Fieramosca: He’ll take her away! Well!

Cellini: to Florence—

Teresa: To Florence!

Fieramosca: To Florence!

Cellini and Teresa: We’ll go to Florence together and get married and be happy for the rest of our lives!

Fieramosca: THEY’LL GO TO FLORENCE TOGETHER AND GET MARRIED AND BE HAPPY FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES?!

Cellini: A beautiful promise! Teresa, I adore you! Love, protect her and let her make it tomorrow…

Fieramosca: YOU’RE BETRAYING ME BEWARE

Teresa: Holy Virgin, forgive me and calm my father and his anger!

Cellini and Teresa: WE’RE BOTH YOUNG AND HAPPY AND FULL OF LOVE SO WE SHOULDN’T BE RESORTING TO DEATH TO SOLVE OUR PROBLEMS ESPECIALLY NOT WHEN WE HAVE A HAPPY FUTURE ALREADY WITHIN REACH SO LET’S LEAVE THIS CITY AND FIND HAPPINESS UNDER OTHER SKIES AND HAVE HOPE AND GO TO FLORENCE

Fieramosca: YOU TRAITORS BEWARE BECAUSE I HAVE STANDARD BARITONE HATRED AND RAGE AND I WILL USE IT TO RUIN YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE PLANS SO BEWARE

Cellini, Teresa, and Fieramosca: Tomorrow evening!

Cellini: Piazza Colonna—

Teresa: Shh!

Cellini: Near Cassandro’s theater—

Teresa: Shh!

Cellini: A monk in white—

Teresa: Yes, I’ll be there!

Fieramosca: Well then, I’ll be there too!

Cellini and Teresa: Take heart and have hope!

Cellini, Teresa, and Fieramosca: Tomorrow evening!

*Teresa hears footsteps and looks outside.*

Teresa: OH SHOOT OH SHOOT IT’S MY DAD WE’RE DONE FOR

Cellini: Are you sure?

Teresa: HE’S RIGHT OUTSIDE

Fieramosca: obviously the best solution to this problem is to hide in my fiancée’s bedroom

*Which he does.*

Cellini: Where should I go? Your bedroom?...

Teresa: NO THERE’S NOT ENOUGH TIME FOR YOU TO MAKE IT IN THERE

Cellini: He’s coming...

Teresa: GOD HELP US

*Cellini quickly flattens himself against the wall by the door. Balducci opens the door; he is shocked to see Teresa and forgets to close it, allowing Cellini to hide between the door and the wall.*

Balducci: You’re still up? It’s really late; I thought you would be in bed by now!

Teresa: *trying to improv and pointing to her bedroom* Dad...there’s a man in there…

Balducci: A MAN?!?!

Teresa: Uh, yeah...when I went to go to bed...I heard a strange noise in there...it sounded like a man…

Balducci: A MAN?!?! I’M GONNA GO BEAT THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF WHATEVER HORRIBLE MAN DARES COME HERE AND ENTER MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM

*He runs into Teresa’s bedroom. Cellini comes out from his hiding place.*

Teresa: Go while I’ve bought you some time!

Cellini: Thank you, my love! See you tomorrow evening!

Teresa: See you then!

*Cellini leaves.*

Teresa: Oh, boy, I’m afraid this won’t go well.

Balducci: *from Teresa’s room* YOU BASTARD I’VE FOUND YOU

Teresa: Wait, there’s actually a man in my bedroom? Well, that’s convenient.

*Balducci drags Fieramosca, who is still holding his bouquet, out of the bedroom.*

Balducci: COME WITH ME OR ELSE I’LL KILL YOU

*He recognizes Fieramosca.*

What? You, Fieramosca?

Teresa: BAHAHAHAHA WHAT AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT

Fieramosca: First off, I wasn’t trying to rob you—

Balducci: THIS IS MUCH WORSE THAN THAT ALSO WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM

Teresa: YEAH WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN MY BEDROOM

Fieramosca: Uh, well, it’s very simple, really...I came…

Balducci: YEAH I KNOW THAT

Fieramosca: I...I was coming just to visit.

Balducci: ‘I was coming just to visit!’ A visit, late at night, when I’m not here, HIDING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM YOU HORRIBLE PERSON

Teresa: EXCUSE ME IT COULD HAVE LOOKED SO BAD THAT I WOULD HAVE BEEN EXCOMMUNICATED

Fieramosca: ...I’m pretty sure that that’s not how excommunication works.

Teresa: WHAT AUDACITY

Fieramosca: I swear, it’s not what it looks like—

Balducci: THAT’S WHAT THEY ALL SAY

Fieramosca: But Mr. Balducci, sir, I swear—

Balducci: THE FACTS SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES

Fieramosca: My God, you think I would be the one to do such a thing?

Balducci: Well, who else, you horrible person?

Teresa: (You traitor!)

Fieramosca: IT’S CELLINI

Teresa: CELLINI???

Balducci: CELLINI?!?!

Fieramosca: CELLINI!!!

Balducci: You call yourself Cellini! Have you lost your mind?

Fieramosca: No, no, WAIT!!!

Balducci: ENOUGH OF THIS

*He opens the window and starts yelling. Teresa also sticks her head outside and starts yelling.*

Teresa and Balducci: HEY EVERYONE GAETANA CATARINA FORNARINA PETRONILLA SCHOLASTICA AND EVERY OTHER NAME IN THE BABY BOOK COME HERE

Fieramosca: PLEASE STOP MAKING SUCH A HUGE RACKET

*Teresa runs out the back door to call for help.*

Neighbors: *offstage* UGGGGGGGGH WHY ARE YOU NEIGHBORS FIGHTING AND MAKING SO MUCH NOISE

Balducci: A LIBERTINE IS IN MY HOUSE HE WAS HIDING IN MY DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM HELP US TEACH HIM A LESSON AND GET HIM OUT OF HERE

Neighbors: OH THAT’S A DIFFERENT STORY

Fieramosca: I’M NOT A LIBERTINE I’M A GOOD UPSTANDING PERSON PLEASE LISTEN TO ME THIS IS HIGHLY EMBARRASSING

*Balducci goes away from the window and Teresa returns.*

Teresa and Balducci: Fieramosca, you’re in good hands.

Fieramosca: THIS ISN’T AN ALLSTATE COMMERCIAL AND THIS ISN’T FUNNY

Teresa and Balducci: What’s Allstate? Oh, never mind.

Balducci: ONLY WOMEN CAN SHOW THE RIGHT WAY TO EXTRAVAGANT MEN LIKE YOURSELF

Fieramosca: Left to the mercy of women!...NO THIS IS HORRIBLE I FEEL LIKE I’M ORPHEUS BEING TORN APART BY THE BACCHANATES *******

*He tries to escape in one direction but is blocked by a large crowd of women armed with household objects.*

Neighbors: WE’RE GONNA TEACH YOU LIBERTINE A LESSON BECAUSE YOU’RE MESSING WITH A WOMAN’S HONOR SO YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A VERY UNPLEASANT BATH

*Fieramosca tries to escape in another direction but the same thing happens with a different crowd of women.*

Fieramosca: I just came here to have a good time and I honestly am feeling so attacked right now :(

Neighbors: LET’S TAKE HIM INTO THE GARDEN AND DUNK HIM IN THE HUGE FOUNTAIN YOU COWARD YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A BATH

*The same thing happens with a third crowd.*

YOU WRETCHED HONORLESS COWARD YOU’RE GONNA TAKE A BIG BATH IN THAT FOUNTAIN AND THE POND AND WE’RE GONNA LEAVE YOU THERE UNTIL MORNING YES YOU’RE GONNA BE IN THERE ALL NIGHT AND THERE’S NOTHING THAT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU CRY LIKE THE LITTLE BABY YOU ARE

Teresa and Balducci: YEAH BEAT HIM UP AND DUNK HIM IN THE FOUNTAIN SO HE CAN LEARN A LESSON THAT HE WILL NEVER FORGET

Fieramosca: YOU SHREWS WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME I REALLY DON’T WANT TO BE STRIPPED NAKED AND DUNKED INTO THE WATER AND LEFT THERE ALL NIGHT I REALLY NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS SITUATION

*He starts running around trying to find a means of escape.*

I’M ORPHEUS AND I’M BEING TORN APART BY THE BACCHANTES HOW DARE THEY TREAT ME LIKE I’M A LIBERTINE I SWEAR I’M A MAN OF HONOR AND I REALLY JUST NEED TO RUN AWAY

*Exit, hurriedly, pursued by the neighbors. Not quite as terrifying as a bear, but close. [We later find out that they successfully caught him and dunked him in the fountain anyway.]*

Notes

Scene 2:

Evening, Mardi Gras. A tavern on the corner of the Piazza Colonna and the Via del Corso, with a view of Cassandro’s theater. Cellini is alone.

Cellini: Teresa will be here, at the Piazza Colonna, in only one more hour! Love, on this joyous day of Mardi Gras, let my heart be the happiest of them all! And if you don’t, ah, you are ungrateful!

I used to only care about glory, the kind of crazy noble hope that only artists have, but that’s all changed now and I reject it all; Teresa alone rules my heart! Love, see what I’ve done and how I’ve changed for you: protect her and protect me!

Teresa once lived so peacefully—like a stream flowing by far from the sea, her days and years passed by, one after the other, all the same, as they were supposed to. But she loves me enough that she’s willing to give that security up, and not only that, she wants to take up my life of wandering and misery instead, just because she loves me! Love, see what she does for you: protect her and protect me! **

*Francesco, Bernardino, and a bunch of Cellini’s friends and fellow goldsmiths enter, fully ready to party.*

Everyone: ALRIGHT EVERYONE LET’S GET WASTED (or not but whatevs we just want to drink)

Bernardino: TRALALALALALALALALA I AM AN EXCELLENT SINGER TRALALALALALALA LET’S ALL SING TRALALALALALALALALA

Cellini: Very well, but for the love of everything holy, please don’t sing any of those lowbrow drinking songs or ballads about sweethearts that EVERYONE sings in taverns. Let’s sing about how awesome metalworking is—a toast to our glory!

Everyone: THE EARTH MAY GROW AWESOME STUFF ON THE SURFACE WHEN THE WEATHER IS GOOD BUT PEOPLE CAN GET METAL FROM THE BOWELS OF THE EARTH AT ANY TIME

HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS!!!! WE CAN CREATE TREASURE FROM WHAT’S BENEATH THE EARTH ANYTIME AND ANYWHERE

WHEN THE MASTER METALWORKER WORKS, GOLD SHINES LIKE THE SUN AND RUBIES LIKE FIRE IN THE NIGHT AND EVEN THE DIAMONDS AND TOPAZES SPARKLE AT NIGHT WITH THE STARS

When the world was created, artistic genius was given to four kinds of artists, each with their own tools: the architects have stone, the painters have color, the sculptors have marble, and those are cool and all, BUT WE THE METALWORKERS HAVE GOLD

METALS, THE UNDERGROUND NEVER-FADING FLOWERS, SHINE BRIGHTEST ON THE BROWS OF ALL THE GREATEST PEOPLE—THE KINGS AND QUEENS AND DUKES AND EMPERORS AND EVEN POPES—SO HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS

Bernardino: HEY everyone let’s have a moment of silence

Cellini: For what?

Bernardino: BEFORE WE START SINGING AGAIN LET’S ALL GET SOME MORE DRINKS

Everyone Else: YEAH WE NEED MORE WINE BECAUSE WE ALREADY DRANK WHAT WE GOT HEY TAVERN OWNER COME HERE

*The tavern owner, who is (probably) super-annoyed with everyone and definitely needs a nice vacay, comes in.*

Tavern Owner: uggggggggggggh whaddya want?

Everyone Else: WE WANT WINE

Tavern Owner: WE’RE OUT THANK YOU

Cellini: THIS IS LITERALLY A TAVERN HOW COULD YOU BE OUT OF WINE

Tavern Owner: Well, actually, we’re technically not out of wine but you’ve already had too much and if you want to drink more…

Everyone Else: Then...?

Tavern Owner: ...you need to pay up for the wine you’ve already had.

Everyone Else: Well, what do we owe you?

*The tavern owner gets out an exceedingly long list.*

Tavern Owner: Well, you asked for it, so here’s the whole long list of everything you bought:

First, white wines: Orvieto and Aleatico and Maraschino—that’s thirty.

Everyone Else: Thirty already?

Tavern Owner: Next up, reds: Ischia and Procida and Nisita—that makes sixty.

Everyone Else: wait SIXTY BOTTLES

Tavern Owner: And that’s not the half. There’s also Asti sparkling wine, Lipari wine, Lacryma-Christi (Jesus, you people drink a lot of the dude’s tears)—which brings the total to exactly one hundred and thirty bottles of wine.

Everyone Else: ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY BOTTLES SWEET JESUS WHO THE HELL BOUGHT THAT MANY

Tavern Owner: ...You people did. Not my problem.

Cellini: EVEN THE TRUMPETS OF THE LAST JUDGMENT WOULD BE LESS SCARY THAN THE VOICE AND THE LIST OF THE TAVERN OWNER

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: YEAH THIS IS HORRIBLE

Cellini: Hmm, how do we get out of this sticky situation?

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: LET’S BEAT UP THE TAVERN OWNER

Cellini: Nah. Let’s think about this.

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: awwwwwwww but we wanted to beat him up

*The tavern owner runs off.*

Cellini: Maybe Ascanio will save us!

*Ascanio, who is apparently well-versed in reality shows, comes in at that exact moment with a bag of money.*

Everyone: HURRAY THERE HE IS HE’S COME TO SAVE US LONG LIVE ASCANIO

*Cellini runs over to greet him.*

Cellini: THERE YOU ARE I’M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU LET’S CHAT AND LET ME HAVE THE MONEY IT LOOKS LIKE THE POPE GAVE YOU FOR THE STATUE

Ascanio: Hold on, wait a sec! I’m ready to drink as much as any of you, but first I need to tell you something very important.

This is indeed from the Pope: it’s advance money for the casting of the Perseus statue, which everyone on the Italian peninsula is waiting for with baited breath! There’s one condition attached, though: you must have the statue done tomorrow. I need your oath. ***

Cellini: Tomorrow? Very well, nothing I can’t handle. I swear it.

Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Friends and Workers: AND WE SWEAR IT TOO SINCE WE’RE GONNA HELP CAST IT

Everyone: WE GIVE OUR WORD THAT THE STATUE WILL BE CAST TOMORROW WITHOUT ANY DELAY

Ascanio: Alright, now I can feel good about giving you this money since you’ve all promised. I hear you have to pay off a bill; here you go.

*Cellini empties the bag and examines the contents, visibly disappointed.*

Cellini: That’s IT???

Francesco and Bernardino: That’s practically nothing!

Ascanio: Hey, not my fault that Balducci is an old, grouchy fool.

Cellini: Well, he doesn’t like me anyway, and at least this is definitely enough to pay the bill. Waiter!

*The tavern owner comes back. Cellini mimics his nasal voice.*

Here’s your precious money to pay off your precious bill!

*The tavern owner, trembling, accepts the money.*

Tavern Owner: FINALLY THANK YOU do you want to drink?

Everyone Else: YEAH GET US SOME MORE WINE

*He goes off.*

Cellini: HEY EVERYONE I HAVE THE BEST IDEA TO GET REVENGE ON BALDUCCI FOR PAYING ME SO BADLY so I know that Balducci is coming to see Cassandro’s show at the Carnival celebrations tonight so since we’re buddies with Cassandro and his troupe whaddya say to paying the troupe to make fun of Balducci in the show tonight and even maybe getting in on shaming and humiliating him ourselves???

Everyone Else: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY THAT SOUNDS AWESOME

Cellini: ANATHEMA ON GIACOMO BALDUCCI

Everyone Else: YEAH HE CAN GO SUCK IT MEANWHILE WE’RE GONNA MAKE ALL OF ROME LAUGH AT HIM SO LET’S GO TO CASSANDRO’S

Everyone: GLORY TO US LET’S SING THE SONG ABOUT HOW AWESOME METALWORKERS ARE AGAIN

Cellini: Just the last part—that’s the best verse!

Everyone: METALS, THE UNDERGROUND NEVER-FADING FLOWERS, SHINE BRIGHTEST ON THE BROWS OF ALL THE GREATEST PEOPLE—THE KINGS AND QUEENS AND DUKES AND EMPERORS AND EVEN POPES—SO HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS

*Fieramosca, who has been spying on all this, comes out of his hiding place.*

Fieramosca: IT’S TOO MUCH ALL THIS SHAMELESS PLOTTING AND I WON’T LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THIS ****

*Pompeo casually strolls in.*

Pompeo: Hey, what’s up with you?

Fieramosca: WHAT’S UP WITH ME??? MY LIFE IS FALLING APART AND I’M FILLED WITH RAGE BECAUSE CELLINI—

Pompeo: oh what did he do NOW

*Fieramosca runs over to Pompeo and embraces him.*

Fieramosca: POMPEO MY DEAR FRIEND MY SAVIOR

Pompeo: oh wait I heard what happened to you yesterday.

Fieramosca: You know? I haven’t even told you yet!

Pompeo: Everyone knows. You got beaten up and dunked into a fountain.

Fieramosca: PLEASE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT DEAR POMPEO ANYWAY THE WHOLE SITUATION GETS MUCH WORSE

Pompeo: How so?

Fieramosca: TERESA AND HER DAD ARE GONNA SEE CASSANDRO’S SHOW AT CARNIVAL TONIGHT

Pompeo: ...I fail to see the problem.

Fieramosca: THE PROBLEM IS THAT WHILE THE SHOW’S GOING ON AND BALDUCCI’S DISTRACTED A WHITE FRIAR AND A CAPUCHIN ARE GOING TO CARRY OFF MY FIANCÉE

Pompeo: Bravo!

Fieramosca: YOU’RE MISSING THE POINT THE WHITE FRIAR IS CELLINI AND THE CAPUCHIN IS HIS APPRENTICE ASCANIO

Pompeo: Bravo!

Fieramosca: ...Excuse me?

Pompeo: Long live boldness!

Fieramosca: I don’t care what happens to me but I’m going to tell Mr. Balducci about this plan and we’ll see if he cries ‘Bravo!’

Pompeo: oh my goodness you IDIOT do you not get it

Fieramosca: What?

Pompeo: I love you, but since you’re obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, let me explain it to you in small words so you can understand: since you know his plan, use the plan yourself.

Fieramosca: but HOW

Pompeo: omg this is so frustrating you dress up as a White Friar and I dress up as a Capuchin and we get there before Cellini and Ascanio

Fieramosca: good idea BUT WHAT IF CELLINI SEES ME HE’S GONNA KILL ME

Pompeo: DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT YOU HAVE ME AND I’M A PRO AT THIS

Fieramosca: Very well.

WHO CAN STAND UP TO ME WAS I NOT BORN TO FIGHT WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES CROSS ME AND EVEN MORE WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES MOCK ME BECAUSE I’M AS QUICK TO A SWORD AS TO ANGER HERE’S A QUARTE HERE’S A TIERCE LONG LIVE FENCING WHICH (aside from sculpting and getting humiliated by my fiancée and the guy she likes I guess) IS MY BEST SKILL *****

TERESA MY HEART IS BURNING FOR YOU LIKE MOUNT VESUVIUS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT IF YOU WANTED ME TO I’D MAKE WAR ON HELL AND EVERYONE IN IT AND I’D EVEN FIGHT CELLINI AND NOT EVEN A HUNDRED CELLINIS COULD KNOCK ME DOWN

NO! NO ONE CAN STAND UP TO ME WAS I NOT BORN TO FIGHT WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES CROSS ME AND EVEN MORE WOE TO THE MAN WHO DARES MOCK ME BECAUSE I’M AS QUICK TO A SWORD AS TO ANGER HERE’S A QUARTE HERE’S A TIERCE LONG LIVE FENCING WHICH IS MY BEST SKILL

*He grabs his sword or some other random object and starts mock-swordfighting. Popping random balloons is optional but strongly encouraged.*

ONE TWO THREE ONE TWO THREE THRUST PARRY ONE TWO ONE...DEAD! I MERCILESSLY STAB HIM THROUGH THE HEART AND I AM VICTORIOUS

Pompeo: Bravo! Now let’s go. The party’s almost starting.

Fieramosca: Dear Pompeo, let me embrace you!

*They hug.*

Pompeo: Now let’s get a couple habits from...somewhere. Don’t be afraid. Everything will go just fine.

*They leave together.*

Notes

Scene 3:

The Piazza Colonna a short time later, with Cassandro’s theater and everything decked out for Carnival.

Balducci: I really hope you appreciate that I’m taking you to the theater at your request, even though you know that all I do at the theater is complain about the actors and you know that I don’t like theater anyway. Anyway, let’s see what weird new show all the kids these days are talking about.

*He goes to read the advertisement for the show, leaving Teresa alone.*

Teresa: What should I do? Could I really leave my old father alone and break his heart?

*She goes over to her father. Cellini, dressed in a white habit, and Ascanio, dressed in a brown habit, enter.* **

Cellini and Ascanio: let’s keep our project on the down-low and let the troupers distract Balducci and then work together and get Teresa and then go to the notary!

Teresa: Could I really leave my father behind? Then again, maybe, when we get married, he’ll learn to accept it!

Balducci: I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS BECAUSE I KNOW I WON’T

Cellini and Ascanio: let’s let this plan play out!

*The four of them get lost in the crowd.*

Revellers: HEY EVERYONE CASSANDRO IS PRESENTING A NEW SHOW SO STICK AROUND AND SEE IF IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE IF IT’S NOT WE’LL BOO OUR HEADS OFF

*A group of dancers with tambourines enters, along with Francesco, Bernardino, and the members of Cassandro’s troupe. Teresa and even Balducci get mixed in with the dancers. People mingle in the square and start to join in with the dancing.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE COME HERE COME SEE THIS AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: BRAVO BRAVO

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE COME SEE CASSANDRO AND HIS AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY BRAVO BRAVO

IT’S DARK BUT WE’RE ALL SO HAPPY AND THE CITY IS SO NOISY AND WE’RE ALL IN LOVE AND A LITTLE BIT DRUNK HOW COULD YOU BE SAD

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: C’MON COME SEE THE SHOW

Revellers: HEY MUSICIANS PLAY ON WE LOVE YOUR MOOD

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE WE DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE A DOCTOR OR A JOKER COME SEE OUR AWESOME SHOW

Revellers: LONG LIVE JOY LET’S DROWN IN JOY LET’S DRINK AND SING AND DANCE

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: ALL YOU MASQUERADERS COME SEE THE SHOW TOO

Teresa and Revellers: CARNIVAL IS A HUGE PARTY WHERE EVERYONE IS HAPPY AND THE WORLD TURNS UPSIDE DOWN

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: HEY EVERYONE WE’RE GONNA KEEP SAYING IT COME SEE OUR AWESOME NEW SHOW

Revellers: WHO ELSE IS EXCITED ABOUT THIS NEW SHOW

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: DON’T GO AWAY BECAUSE CARNIVAL AIN’T COMPLETE WITHOUT US AND OUR AWESOME SHOWS

Some of the Revellers: KEEP YELLING AT US IF YOU WANT BUT WE THINK DANCING’S MORE FUN SORRY NOT SORRY

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: WE DON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU STUPID DANCERS THINK EVERYONE COME SEE THE SHOW

Teresa and Revellers: WE LOVE TO DANCE AND ALL THE WORLD IS A BALL SO LET’S DANCE WHILE WE CAN

Francesco, Bernardino, and Troupers: EVERYONE COME SEE OUR NEW SHOW CASSANDRO’S AWESOME AND YOUR DANCING IS STUPID

Revellers: WHAT A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT CARNIVAL IS A HUGE PARTY THAT MAKES THE CITY BURN WITH DELIGHT AND THE WORLD TURN UPSIDE DOWN

*The trumpeters signal the beginning of the show. Most of the people take seats near the stage, including Teresa and Balducci. Cellini and Ascanio grab seats on the left. Fieramosca (dressed in white) and Pompeo (dressed in brown) find seats on the right.*

Men: HEY EVERYONE STOP DANCING THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START

Women: YEAH EVERYONE BE QUIET THE SHOW’S STARTING

*The curtain of the theater rises to reveal four actors onstage: a man dressed like the Pope, a man dressed like Balducci sitting on a throne, and two men dressed like Swiss Guards and holding money and laurels.*

People: LOOK THERE’S THE POPE AND HIS TREASURER BALDUCCI

Balducci: OH SO THIS IS HOW IT IS THEY’RE GONNA MOCK ME ONSTAGE HUH

Teresa: oh no oh no let’s go, Dad!

Balducci: Well, I paid to see this stupid show so I might as well stay here and see the whole thing and see myself get completely and utterly humiliated. After this, though, I'm going to go speak to the Pope about how the people are making fun of us and about the utter blasphemy they’re committing!

People: HEY YOU OVER THERE SHUT UP WE CAN’T HEAR THE SHOW

Cellini: Hey, Ascanio, do you see Teresa?

Ascanio: She’s over there.

Fieramosca: Hey, Pompeo, do you see Teresa?

Pompeo: She’s over there.

Teresa: this is the most embarrassing thing ever

People: HEY EVERYONE SHUT UP

Balducci: BUT I DON’T WANNA SHUT UP

People: CAN IT

*Colombine enters.*

Colombine: HEY EVERYONE OUR SHOW’S STARTING AND WE HAVE A TREAT FOR YOU BECAUSE HARLEQUIN AND PIERROT ARE GONNA COMPETE IN THE ITALIAN PENINSULA’S GOT TALENT TO SEE WHO’S THE BETTER SINGER ***

People: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

*The actors playing Harlequin and Pierrot enter.*

Some People: HARLEQUIN IS BEING PLAYED BY THE BEST TENOR IN ROME

Other People: PIERROT IS BEING PLAYED BY A SINGER FROM TUSCANY BUT IS HE ACTUALLY A MAN OR JUST AN ASS

Women: PLEASE BE QUIET HARLEQUIN IS ABOUT TO SING

Men: YOU BE QUIET

*Harlequin (in pantomime) sings and accompanies himself on the lyre. Some people continue talking; the fake Balducci falls asleep.*

Men: Well done! Bravo! You damn chatterboxes need to shut up!

Women: YOU HAVE TO WATCH HARLEQUIN HE’S BEING PLAYED BY ROME’S FINEST TENOR

Everyone: HE’S SUCH A GOOD SINGER AND HE’S DOING SO WELL EVEN THOUGH TECHNICALLY HE’S NOT ACTUALLY SINGING

*Harlequin’s section comes to an end. Pierrot (again, in pantomime) sings and accompanies himself on the bass drum. The people all listen attentively; the fake Balducci wakes up and, delighted, beats to the time of the music.*

Some People: LOOK HOW MUCH THE OLD TREASURER IS ENJOYING THIS

Balducci: THIS HAS GONE TOO FAR I NEED TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER OF THIS

Some People: STOP BEING SUCH A KAREN

Balducci: WHAT’S A KAREN

Some People: NEVER MIND YOU’RE TOO FOOLISH TO UNDERSTAND

Other People: HAHAHAHAHA THE OLD MAN IS SO HAPPY HAHAHAHAHAHA

*When the song is over, Harlequin and Pierrot both wait, expecting the prize. The fake Balducci gives a small coin to Harlequin, who is visibly disappointed, and then gives the rest of the money to Pierrot.*

People: Well, when the judge has an ass’s ears…

Balducci: SCREW YOU ALL I DEMAND TO SEE THE MANAGER OF THIS OPERATION

Teresa: please be quiet you’re only making them laugh louder

*The fake Balducci gives the laurel wreath to Pierrot. Harlequin then hits both of the other actors with a wooden sword. Colombine unsuccessfully attempts to intervene.*

People: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY BRAVI THIS IS THE BEST SHOW EVER

Balducci: FINE SINCE I CAN’T SPEAK TO THE MANAGER I’M GONNA TAKE THIS INTO MY OWN HANDS

*He jumps up from his seat, runs onstage, and begins attacking the comedians with his cane.*

Teresa: oh my GOD DAD STOP BEING SUCH A KAREN

People: LONG LIVE CARNIVAL BRAVI THE ORIGINAL AND THE ACTOR ARE FACE TO FACE SO NOW WE GET TO SEE WHICH IS UGLIER

*Some of the people stay to watch the fight between Balducci and the comedians, while others go back to dancing and mingling. Several people carrying moccoli (little candles often carried at Carnival) mix with the crowd. People keep blowing out and relighting the moccoli. Several coaches are bearing torches; these are blown out from apartment windows above by people bearing large bellows. Cellini, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Pompeo make their way through the crowd, trying to find Teresa. In general, it’s absolute pandemonium; what else would you expect?* ****

Cellini and Fieramosca: *to their respective assistants* Come on, let’s push our way through this huge crowd and get Teresa!

*Teresa has made her way downstage and is looking for Cellini and Ascanio when she sees, but does not definitively recognize, them.*

Teresa: OH HEY I THINK THAT’S CELLINI WITH ASCANIO

*She sees Fieramosca and Pompeo in their disguises but does not recognize them.*

WAIT WHAT WHY IS THERE ANOTHER WHITE FRIAR AND CAPUCHIN MONK DUO WHAT ON EARTH IS THIS

Fieramosca: HI IT’S ME

Cellini: HI IT’S ME

Teresa: WHICH ONE IS THE ORIGINAL

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Cellini and Fieramosca: IT’S ME COME WITH ME

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Other Revellers: YOU MOCCOLI PEOPLE ARE SO ANNOYING

Revellers: MOCCOLI MOCCOLI IT KINDA RHYMES WITH BROCCOLI MOCCOLI MOCCOLI

Cellini: THERE’S ANOTHER MONK HERE THERE’S SOME TREACHERY AFOOT GOD DAMN IT

Pompeo: C’MON FIERAMOSCA WE CAN DO THIS DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT

Fieramosca: this is the worst plan EVER

Pompeo: KEEP GOING ANYWAY

Ascanio: WE NEED TO AVENGE THIS TREACHERY

Pompeo: SERIOUSLY FIERAMOSCA I LOVE YOU BUT PLEASE STOP WORRYING ABOUT THIS

*Cellini draws his sword.*

Cellini: I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE YOU ASKED FOR IT BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO KIDNAP MY GIRLFRIEND

Fieramosca: POMPEO PLEASE COME OVER HERE AND HELP ME OUT BECAUSE I’M GETTING SCARED

Ascanio: *running after Fieramosca* I WILL GET YOU

*Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Pompeo all draw their swords. Cellini fights Pompeo; Ascanio fights Fieramosca.*

Teresa: FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE SOMEONE STOP THIS

*Some of the revellers unsuccessfully attempt to restrain the four fighters.*

Revellers: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND IT’S CARNIVAL THIS ISN’T A TIME FOR FIGHTING

Cellini: NO I HAVEN’T LOST MY MIND

Teresa: EVERYONE STOP IT

Fieramosca: *running away from Ascanio* SOMEONE HELP ME

Pompeo: KEEP GOING

Cellini: YOU ARE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Fieramosca: SERIOUSLY SOMEONE HELP ME

Cellini: NO YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS NO

*He runs Pompeo through with his sword. Everyone immediately stops what they’re doing and screams.*

Pompeo: I WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE THAT I AM DEAD

*He dies.*

People: OH SHIT A DUDE JUST GOT MURDERED FIRE POLICE AMBULANCE

*Balducci, in a state of disarray from the fight, returns.*

Balducci: GOOD LORD THERE’S A DEAD MAN WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER

*Guards arrive. Fieramosca runs over to Pompeo’s body, checking behind him because he believes that Ascanio is still following him.*

Fieramosca: HELP ME....OH MY GOD POMPEO’S DEAD NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

People: *pointing to Cellini* ARREST THAT FRIAR HE DID IT AND HIS SWORD STILL HAS THAT DUDE’S BLOOD ALL OVER IT

*Cellini is arrested. Everyone gathers around him.*

Cellini: I’M DONE FOR

Fieramosca: I’m saved…

Francesco and Bernardino: THEY CAUGHT OUR MASTER

Ascanio: MY POOR MASTER DOESN’T DESERVE THIS

Fieramosca: WE GOT ‘IM

Teresa: WHY IS FATE SO CRUEL

Teresa, Balducci, Francesco, and the Troupers: THIS IS THE WORST NIGHT EVER

Women: Such a good man killed…

Men: A KNAVE DID THIS

*Cellini’s friends and assistants pretend not to recognize him in order to more effectively set up their plan.*

Fieramosca, Balducci, Francesco, Bernardino, and People: HOW COULD THIS MAN MURDER A CAPUCHIN THAT’S LIKE THE WORST THING EVER HE’S PROBABLY A BANDIT FROM THE COUNTRYSIDE OR A SPURNED LOVER OR SOMETHING KEEP A GOOD GRIP ON HIM

Teresa: HE RUINED HIMSELF FOR MY SAKE I FEEL AWFUL I DIDN’T KNOW THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT I STILL FEEL AWFUL ALSO HOW DARE YOU PEOPLE TREAT HIM LIKE A MONSTER

Cellini: THIS IS THE WORST NIGHT EVER HOW DARE YOU PEOPLE TREAT ME LIKE A MONSTER

Ascanio: MY DEAR MASTER I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE DOING THIS TO YOU AND TREATING YOU LIKE A MONSTER

*Suddenly, the cannon of the Castel di Sant’Angelo booms three times. As presumably per end-of-Carnival tradition, everyone blows out their candles and torches, plunging the square into darkness.* *****

Cellini: MY FRIENDS HELP ME I’VE BEEN CAUGHT

*Francesco, Bernardino, and others create a large commotion. In the general confusion caused by that, the darkness, and the booming of the cannon, Cellini pushes his way through the crowd and escapes.*

People: WE CAN’T SEE ANYTHING

Fieramosca, Balducci, and Chorus: HEY GUARDS DO YOU STILL HAVE HIM

Guards: NO WE DON’T HELP US

People: BUT YOU’RE THE ONES WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE HIM

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: THANK GOODNESS HE ESCAPED

Fieramosca and Balducci: WHAT THE H-E-DOUBLE-HOCKEYSTICKS WE JUST HAD HIM

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: THANK YOU CANNON FOR SOUNDING AT JUST THE RIGHT TIME SO HE COULD ESCAPE

Fieramosca, Balducci, and People: CURSE YOU STUPID CANNON WE JUST HAD HIM WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO OFF NOW

Balducci: TERESA COME HERE

Teresa: DAD—

Ascanio: *grabbing Teresa’s arm* HEY TERESA IT’S ME ASCANIO COME WITH ME

*The two of them make their way through the crowd, trying to avoid Fieramosca and Balducci.*

People: OH GOD THE MURDERER ESCAPED WE JUST HAD HIM AND NOW WE CAN’T SEE A THING AND HE’S GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT

Balducci: TERESA WHERE ARE YOU IT’S SO DARK AND NOISY OUT AND I CAN’T SEE A THING

Fieramosca: CURSE THIS STUPID CANNON WE JUST HAD HIM BUT NOW THERE’S A MURDERER ON THE RUN AND IT’S SO DARK AND NOISY OUT SO I CAN’T SEE A THING

Teresa and Ascanio: IT’S SO NOISY OUT BUT HE’S GOTTEN AWAY SO THAT’S GOOD

People: THIS IS GETTING WAY TOO CRAZY AND IT’S JUST PLAIN CHAOS

*In the midst of the chaos, Balducci bumps into Fieramosca.*

Balducci: IT’S HIM IT’S THE MONK IN WHITE

Fieramosca: wait WHAT

Balducci: I GOT HIM

Fieramosca: EXCUSE ME WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

Guards: WE’RE COMING

*They arrest Fieramosca.*

Balducci: KEEP A GOOD GRIP ON HIM

People: THEY GOT HIM

Balducci: TERESA WHERE ARE YOU

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Cellini’s Other Friends and Workers: HAHAHAHA THEY GOT FIERAMOSCA THAT’S EXCELLENT

Fieramosca: BUT I’M NOT—

People: TAKE HIM AWAY

Fieramosca: YOU’RE MISTAKING ME FOR SOMEONE ELSE

Guards and People: LET’S TAKE CARE OF THIS MURDERER

Fieramosca: BUT MY NAME IS FIERAMOSCA

Guards: LET’S GO OFF TO PRISON

Balducci: SERIOUSLY TERESA WHERE ARE YOU

Several People, One At A Time, Around the Square: THEY CAUGHT HIM

Fieramosca: I SWEAR TO GOD I’M FIERAMOSCA

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, and Some People: YOU MURDERER WE’LL HAVE YOU HANGED RIGHT AWAY YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Balducci, Bernardino, and Other People: WHY WOULD YOU MURDER A CAPUCHIN ON THE EVE OF ASH WEDNESDAY WE’LL HAVE YOU HANGED RIGHT AWAY YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Fieramosca: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ALL WANT TO THROW ME IN PRISON AND HANG ME LISTEN TO ME I DIDN’T MURDER ANYONE I AM A GOOD CITIZEN OF ROME AND MY NAME IS FIERAMOSCA

Everyone: OH GOD I’M SUFFOCATING GIVE ME SOME ROOM LET ME OUT OF HERE WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT OUT OF HERE

Balducci: I CAN’T FIND MY DAUGHTER TERESA

Teresa and Ascanio: C’MON LET’S GO WE NEED TO STICK TOGETHER

Fieramosca: OH GOD I’M SUFFOCATING DON’T STRANGLE ME

Everyone: OH GOD YOU’RE CRUSHING ME THIS IS A LIVING HELL ON EARTH AND ALSO COMPLETE AND UTTER CHAOS AND WE’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO GET OUT

*Teresa and Ascanio run off. Fieramosca is led off by the guards. In a panic, everyone else tries to push their way out of the square.*

Notes

Also, a collection of several artistic portrayals of the Piazza Colonna and Carnival in Rome!

Act II:

Scene 1:

Early morning, Ash Wednesday. Cellini’s workshop. Various creations of Cellini’s are scattered around. On the right is a plaster model of the Perseus statue. At the back is a door, with one window on each side. The windows look out onto the street.

*Teresa and Ascanio run in. Teresa starts looking out one of the windows while Ascanio closes the door.*

Teresa: Oh God, what’s happened to Cellini? Where could he be?

Ascanio: He’ll be here soon, Teresa. Don’t worry about it.

Teresa: NO I SWEAR HE’S BEEN CAUGHT OR HE’S DEAD

Ascanio: No, he’s alright, listen to me; he’s not the kind of guy who could get caught by the Pope’s men or the law.

Teresa: But why hasn’t he made it here yet?

*A group of White Friars (a Carmelite order of monks) starts to pass by.*

White Friars: Vas spirituale, Maria, sancta mater, ora pro nobis…

*For the sake of concision, the White Friars continue chanting intermittently in much the same vein for the next few minutes.* **

Ascanio: Listen!

*He runs over to a window and looks out.*

Teresa: Is it him?

*Ascanio comes back.*

Ascanio: Unfortunately, no. That song is just a group of monks passing by and chanting prayers as they go off to their holy works.

Teresa: This hurts too much!

Ascanio: Take heart.

Teresa: We must pray!

Teresa and Ascanio: Alright, then.

*They kneel.*

Holy Virgin, star of the morning, smile and shed some light on us...

*The White Friars pass by the door at this point; their voices gradually fade as they move away.*

Holy Virgin, star of the morning, have mercy and bring Cellini safely back to us!

*Cellini, still dressed in his white habit (which is now covered in blood) runs in.*

Cellini: HEY I’M HERE

Teresa and Ascanio: CELLINI THANK GOODNESS YOU’RE HERE

*They run over to him.*

Teresa: You aren’t wounded, are you?

Cellini: No, thank God, but I did get a bit frazzled along the way.

Ascanio: You? Frazzled?

Cellini: It took all my luck to get out of all that craziness and certain arrest.

Teresa and Ascanio: What happened?

Cellini: Okay, here goes, I bet you’ve never heard anything like this:

SO it was really dark and I had my dagger and I was running through this huge crowd and I got out and I kept running because there was this huge mob chasing after me and yelling for my blood because yeah of course they were and I was still wearing this habit—

Ascanio: Couldn’t you have just taken it off?

Cellini: DON’T INTERRUPT MY STORY anyway just in the nick of time I saw a building with the door open and I hid behind the door and they still kept running because they didn’t see me so I closed the door and then I thought about Teresa and blessed my patron saint and then I felt really weak and the ground started shaking under me and then I fainted

Teresa: OOH WHAT HAPPENED NEXT I’M REALLY SCARED BUT ALSO VERY INTRIGUED

Ascanio: ...I’m not buying it also how come SHE gets to interrupt your story

Cellini: Ascanio, I think very highly of you but you’re not my girlfriend ANYWAY I woke up a while later and it was dawn and the rooftops were covered in beautiful light and the roosters were crowing and people were walking around everywhere and I had no idea how I was going to get home but a bunch of friars dressed like me happened to pass by so I slipped in and they happened to pass by here so I slipped out AND NOW I’M HERE AND SO ARE YOU ***

Teresa: And may God never separate us again!

Ascanio: Uh, guys, I hate to break it to you but one of you is still wanted for murder and the other’s dad is probably looking for us as we speak so we’re not out of danger yet.

Cellini: You’re right. We have to go NOW.

Teresa: We have to go? We should just try hiding out—

Cellini: No, we have to go NOW.

Ascanio: BUT YOU STILL HAVE A STATUE TO FINISH

Cellini: TO HELL WITH MY STATUE AND THE POPE AND THE LAW WE JUST NEED TO RUN AWAY TO FLORENCE ASCANIO GO GET US A HORSE

Ascanio: Very well. You can count on me and I’ll be back here as soon as I can.

*He leaves.*

Teresa: My love, God is on our side! After everything, we’re here together, which is the proof that God has blessed us...

Cellini: Yes! Let’s enjoy this moment, our love, the brief moment of peace we have now before we have to flee…

Teresa: YESTERDAY WAS PLAIN AWFUL

Cellini: You can say that again.

Teresa: YESTERDAY WAS PLAIN AWFUL

Cellini: BUT THAT’S NOT NOW THAT’S THEN

Teresa: You’re right; it’s a new day that’ll dry our tears…

Cellini: Even though the future may be dark…

Teresa: ...we have peace and love and happiness!

Cellini: Let’s live and let death come when it will!

Teresa: But first take off the habit. You can’t be seen in it.

*Cellini takes off his habit and puts it on a chair.*

Cellini: There we go. Time is running out, but first...how about a mock swordfight?

Teresa: I AM SO DOWN CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON

*They start mock-swordfighting.*

Cellini: Ah, brava! What bravery, my squire!

Teresa: Put on your breastplate!

*The fight comes to an end.*

Cellini and Teresa: GOD HAS BLESSED US SO WE’LL BE OKAY NO MATTER WHAT BECAUSE HE HAS BLESSED ALL OUR WISHES ****

You know, when eagles in the mountains hear their friends being captured, what do they do? They stick together and help each other out and yell their war cries and help each other escape! And they fly far away despite everything, even being shot at! LET’S DO THE SAME THING AND RUN AWAY TO FLORENCE WE’LL BRAVE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE EVEN THE VATICAN LET’S GO

*Ascanio runs in, in a state of panic.*

Ascanio: HEY SIR DEAR SIR WE HAVE A BIT OF A PROBLEM

Cellini: What is it?

Ascanio: BALDUCCI AND FIERAMOSCA ARE HERE I JUST SAW THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW

Teresa: OH SHOOT IT’S MY DAD

Cellini: Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of this.

*He helps Teresa hide behind the model of Perseus.*

Ascanio: THERE THEY ARE

*Balducci and Fieramosca enter. Fieramosca sees Cellini and immediately starts backing towards the door, but Balducci goes to confront Cellini with his cane.*

Balducci: AT LAST I HAVE FOUND YOU, YOU MURDERER AND SEDUCER AND BRIGAND AND AT THIS POINT I’M JUST GOING TO CALL YOU EVERY NOT-NICE THING IN THE BOOK BECAUSE I’M JUST FED UP WITH AND SEVERELY PO’D AT YOU

Cellini: Oh excuse me, Mr. Giacomo, I didn’t realize that you could just show up at my house and start making such a ruckus. What’s gotten into you?

Balducci: YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS ABOUT GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER I KNOW SHE’S HERE SO GIVE HER BACK OR ELSE I WILL BEAT YOU UP WITH THI—

Cellini: DON’T EVEN THI—

*Teresa runs out and falls on her knees before her father.*

Teresa: DAD I’M SORRY NOW I’M KNEELING BEFORE YOU

Balducci: ahhhhhhhhhhh THERE you are so let me get this straight: you honor your beloved mother by running away from me and planning to escape with, of all things, A KNOWN MURDERER wow who would’ve thought that you, of all people, could be such a horrible person?

Teresa: DAD JUST LISTEN TO ME

Cellini: Your daughter would NEVER—

Teresa: YEAH DAD I WOULD NEVER

Cellini: I’ll say it: I’m the only guilty party here.

Balducci: That’s a load of BS coming from you; I know what I know about you…

Cellini: Which is…?

Balducci: uh...NEVER MIND ANYWAY TERESA GO HOME

*Cellini steps in between Balducci and Teresa.*

Cellini: STOP I LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER

Balducci: WHAT DOES THAT MATTER

Cellini: AND SHE LOVES ME

Balducci: WELL TOO BAD SO SAD

Cellini: THIS IS THE FASTEST WAY TO RUIN YOUR FAMILY’S HONOR

Balducci: THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE ALSO YOU TWO ARE BREAKING UP EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

Cellini: THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS

Teresa: DAD STOP IT

Balducci: TERESA WE ARE LEAVING

Teresa: CELLINI HELP ME OUT HERE

Cellini: DON’T WORRY TERESA I GOT YOU

Balducci: Fieramosca, come claim your wife!

Everyone Else [yes, including Fieramosca]: wait WHAT

*Fieramosca timidly goes over to Teresa.*

Fieramosca: uhhhhh so I guess this is a thing now so uhhhhhh let’s leave

Cellini: You thief, if you so much as TOUCH HER I WILL

Balducci: FIERAMOSCA TAKE HER OUT OF HERE

Fieramosca: *backing away* Me? But I don’t want to cause even more of a scene…

Cellini: IF YOU SO MUCH AS MOVE TOWARDS HER FIERAMOSCA I WILL SEND YOU TO HELL

Balducci: FIERAMOSCA DO SOMETHING

Fieramosca: BUT I DON’T WANNA CAUSE A SCENE

Ascanio: Some son-in-law!

Teresa: OH MY GOD CAN EVERYONE CALM DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS

*A disturbance from outside causes everyone to stop arguing and look up, only to see an unexpected development.*

Everyone: OH SHOOT IT’S THE POPE hey everyone we need to stop fighting and shut up and show some respect omg the Pope is here

*They all promptly shut up and kneel as Pope Clément VII (who will hereafter be referred to as ‘The Pope’ on the understanding that he is not the current Pope in The Real World™), dressed in traveling costume, enters with his retinue.*

The Pope: My children, full indulgence for all your sins! Rise; I don’t want to feel so aloof because I feel like you are all my children, and mercy is the dearest value to our hearts! Rise, my children! A full indulgence for all your sins! Rise!

Balducci and Fieramosca: Uh, Your Holiness, we very humbly give you our request: avenge us!

The Pope: Avenge you? For what? Oh, and for crying out loud, I’ve already asked you like...six times to rise and you’re still down there on the floor.

*Everyone gets up.*

Balducci: A GUY ABDUCTED MY DAUGHTER AND DISHONORED MY GOOD NAME

Fieramosca: AND THE SAME GUY KILLED MY SIDEKICK BUDDY WITH WHOM I DEFINITELY DID NOT HAVE A HOMOEROTIC RELATIONSHIP

The Pope: Who did all this?

Balducci and Fieramosca: CELLINI

Balducci: *gesturing to Teresa* THERE’S MY DAUGHTER

Fieramosca: *holding Cellini’s discarded bloodstained habit* AND THERE’S THE BLOOD HE SHED

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: NO CELLINI ISN’T GUILTY

Balducci: Cellini, one, you literally said you were the only guilty one here like five minutes ago; two, I absolutely hate it when people refer to themselves in the third person.

Cellini: THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE NO FUN BALDUCCI

The Pope: A murder and an abduction? Cellini, you did all that? Really? Are you kidding me right now? Are you always going to play the little devil?

Cellini: No. Please, just hear me out for a moment.

The Pope: First, how’s the statue coming?

Cellini: Oh, right. The statue. The statue for you. The statue especially made for you. Your statue. That statue?

The Pope: YES, that statue.

Cellini: Uh...I don’t got you covered. *****

The Pope: What?

Cellini: ...It’s not done yet.

The Pope: Wait a sec...after all this time I’ve given you, and after your promise to have it done today, IT’S STILL NOT FINISHED?!

Everyone: It still hasn’t been cast!

The Pope: So you used my advance money to break a father’s heart and murder a man in the middle of Carnival and then spent the rest drinking? Seriously?

Balducci and Fieramosca: YEAH HE DID

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: NO HE DIDN’T

Balducci and Fieramosca: SHUT UP

Cellini, Teresa, and Ascanio: YOU SHUT UP

The Pope: EVERYONE SHUT UP

Very well, then, you leave me no choice: another will cast the statue.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: ANOTHER?!

Cellini: Another cast my statue? EXCUSE ME WHAT DID YOU SAY OH WAIT I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID AND IT IS NOT HAPPENING ON MY WATCH

I WOULD SOONER DESTROY MY OWN MODEL THAN ALLOW SOMEONE ELSE TO—

Everyone Else: What is he DOING?!?!

Fieramosca and Balducci: HOW DARE YOU?!?! ARE YOU NOT IN THE PRESENCE OF THE POPE?!?!?!?!

Cellini: Yes! May the Virgin forgive me, and the Pope, and my patron saint, but NO ONE ELSE, NOT EVEN MICHELANGELO HIMSELF WILL CAST THIS STATUE BECAUSE I’D RATHER DIE THAN THAT HAPPEN

The Pope: Fine, let’s test that out. Guards! Arrest Cellini immediately.

*The guards come forward but at the same time, Cellini picks up a large hammer and runs over to the model of the statue.*

Cellini: I will whack this model into tiny, unrecognizable bits before a single one of your guards lays a hand on me.

*He raises the hammer to smash the model, but everyone screams.*

The Pope: STOP oh for holy God’s sake

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: He defied the Pope to his face! What has he done?

The Pope: FINE you demon, what do you need to calm down? Honestly, at this point, I mostly just want to see my future display piece not get hacked to bits.

*Cellini moves in front of the model, lowering his hammer but still holding it.*

Cellini: Full forgiveness for all my sins.

The Pope: Very well; you will have it without confession.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Without even confession!

The Pope: I have said it; it will be done.

Cellini: That’s not all. I want Teresa’s hand in marriage.

The Pope: Let me get this straight: you want forgiveness and Teresa?

Fieramosca and Balducci: HOLY FATHER STOP RIGHT THERE

Cellini: Oh, and one more thing: I want the time to cast my statue.

The Pope: You want forgiveness, Teresa, and the time to cast the statue? Please tell me there’s nothing else.

Cellini: That is all.

Everyone Else: That’s all!

The Pope: ah DANG IT the devil knows how much I love art and he’s laughing at me but next thing you know I’ll be laughing at him

Balducci and Fieramosca: he knows how much the Pope loves art but it’ll be our turn to laugh

Teresa: Dear God, have mercy on him!

Ascanio: HAHAHA THIS IS THE BEST TRICK EVER

Cellini: I’VE GOT HIM IN A CORNER BECAUSE I KNOW HIS LOVE FOR ART

The Pope: How much time do you need to cast the statue?

Cellini: The rest of the day, God willing.

The Pope: ...Are you sure that’ll be enough time?

Cellini: I think so: the furnace has been heating up the metal for a while now.

The Pope: *signaling to the guards to move away* Very well, I agree to your conditions.

*Cellini puts down the hammer and goes over to the Pope.*

But listen to me very carefully, you rogue: I myself will be at the workshop tonight to see if you are able to complete the statue. If not, by God, I will hand you over to the legal authorities and you will be hanged tonight.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Hanged!

The Pope: I think I’ve made myself clear.

Balducci: But...but Holy Father, he can finish the statue by the end of the day, and Teresa—

The Pope: To Hell with you and Teresa! He’ll be hanged if he doesn’t finish.

Fieramosca: But...but Holy Father, he can finish the statue by the end of the day, and Pompeo—

The Pope: ugh you people to Hell with you and Pompeo! He’ll be hanged if he doesn’t finish. Cellini, I trust I’ve made myself clear?

Cellini: ...Crystal.

Teresa, Ascanio, Fieramosca, and Balducci: Hanged! If he doesn’t finish today, he’ll be hanged!

Cellini: *ironically* Ah, Holy Father, how kind to offer such an indulgence for my sins—the threat of hanging!

The Pope: Yes, you will hang!

Now he’ll feel less proud because I myself will punish him because no saint or angel in all of Heaven will help him; he has sealed his own fate!

Cellini: GOD WILL HELP ME AND I WILL SUCCEED BECAUSE I FEEL THE POWER AND SOMEONE ONCE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT FORTUNE FAVORING THE BOLD WELL IT’S NOT JUST FORTUNE IT’S ALSO GOD SO NO ONE’S PETTY VENGEANCE CAN STOP ME

Teresa: NOOOOOOOOOOO HE’S GONNA DIE BECAUSE EVERYONE’S WORKING AGAINST HIM EVEN GOD AND THERE’S NO HOPE AND I FEEL LIKE MY ONLY OPTION IS DEATH

Ascanio: LET THEM INSULT HIM WHAT DOES HE CARE GOD WILL HELP HIM BECAUSE HE IS BOLD SO I HAVE HOPE AND NO ONE’S PETTY VENGEANCE CAN STOP HIM

Fieramosca and Balducci: AT LAST HE IS COMING TO HIS DESERVED RUIN AND WE WILL HAVE OUR VENGEANCE

*The Pope’s retinue moves towards the Pope as if to protect him, but he signals them to stop.*

The Pope’s Retinue: WHAT AN INDULGENCE HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN PUNISHED ALREADY AND HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS CHANCE

*Everyone leaves.*

Notes

Scene 2: **

Cellini’s foundry. The furnace is at the back; there is one door each at right and left. Some of Cellini’s other works are there. A clock strikes 4 PM.

*Ascanio runs in.*

Ascanio: Tralalalalalalalalalala…

What’s the matter with me? I just feel so overwhelmed and weary with all this drama right now but TOO BAD because when I feel sad I just laugh and sing tralalala and then suddenly I feel dizzy and happy again!

So our bronze baby is getting its baptism of fire tonight: the Colosseum will be the church, the Pope will be the godfather, and all the people of Rome will be the witnesses! Tralalala honestly thinking about that overwhelms me even more but you know what? It’s okay; I’ll just laugh and sing tralalalala…

*Quick note: during this next part, Ascanio imitates both Cellini and the Pope.*

HAHAHA THAT WHOLE THING WITH CELLINI AND THE POPE WAS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER BECAUSE THE POPE WAS LIKE ‘Take the man away!’ and Cellini was like ‘NOT SO FAST I’LL DESTROY THIS MODEL FIRST’ and the Pope was like ‘fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine I give in because I guess I’m a total pushover’ and Cellini was like ‘I want forgiveness for all my sins’ and the Pope was like ‘sure whatever’ and then Cellini was like ‘I ALSO want Teresa’ and the Pope was like ‘yeah cool okay’ and THEN Cellini was like ‘and I want the rest of the day to cast the statue!’ and the Pope was like ‘sounds good’ and THEN SUDDENLY THE POPE GRABBED MY MASTER’S HEAD and he said he would HANG HIM if he didn’t finish the statue by the end of the day! Is that all? Oh, you’ll hang! You understand? Ah, Holy Father, what an indulgence!

great THAT overwhelmed me too and I feel sad again but I’ll just do what I always do and just laugh and sing tralalalala and everything will be okay! ***

*Cellini enters and signals Ascanio to leave, which he does.*

Cellini: Alone, just me, my courage, and my audacity, about to have the fight of my life—and all Rome is watching! Very well, then; let the winds bring the storm, let them rile up all the waves, and let me sail straight into it! This is the story of my life...what a life!

Why could I not be a simple shepherd, leading my sheep and wandering through the wildness of the mountains? Free, alone, at peace, with no need to do any useless work for anyone else...I would wander far from all these busy cities and I would sing to my heart’s content...and at night I would sleep on the ground in a little hut, but I would sleep so peacefully, it would be like sleeping in my mother’s arms as a baby! Ah, what a dream! What a life!

Metalworkers: *singing outside* How happy the sailors, those children of the waves, are…

Cellini: ugggggggggggggggh not that song AGAIN

Metalworkers: ...they happily follow the wind wherever it blows…

Cellini: something bad ALWAYS happens whenever they sing that stupid song

Metalworkers: ...and when the boat sinks, the ocean is their tomb…

*Ascanio comes back.*

Ascanio: That sad song is bad luck!

Cellini: If they lose heart, we’ll fail!

*calling out to the workers* We are sailors who sail on metal! To rule the waves is easy; the real triumph is to rule over fire as we do!

Cellini and Ascanio: TAKE HEART AND HAVE COURAGE IF WE CAN JUST HOLD ON FOR ONE MORE DAY WE’LL ALL CELEBRATE TOMORROW

Chorus: *even more sadly than before* How happy the sailors, those children of the waves, are…

Cellini: *putting on an apron* Alright, let’s go to work, no more dilly-dallying!

*Loud knocking on the door.*

WHO IS IT

*Ascanio runs to the door and opens it, then hurries back.*

Ascanio: IT’S FIERAMOSCA

*Fieramosca enters with two swordsmen.*

Cellini: uggggggggggh not him hi, what do you want?

Fieramosca: Cellini, I have come to send you to Hell.

Cellini: ‘nyah nyah nyah Cellini I have come to send you to Hell nyah nyah nyah’ what do you MEAN you BUFFOON

Fieramosca: okay fine, I’ll say it differently so your tiny little brain will understand: I demand satisfaction for your insults.

Cellini: You’re joking, right?

Fieramosca: Uh, no.

Ascanio: Oh, really?

Fieramosca: NO I’M NOT JOKING I DEMAND SATISFACTION NOW

Cellini: BUT I CAN’T LEAVE

Fieramosca: So you do not accept the challenge, you coward?

Cellini: Pot calling kettle black, I see.

Fieramosca: You don’t accept?

Cellini: FINE WE FIGHT HERE

Fieramosca: No! If I kill you in your house, even if we are legitimately dueling, I’m an assassin. That’s the law. We fight elsewhere.

Cellini: OH I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO NOT BE ABLE TO FINISH but, God willing, I’ll teach you a fine lesson about messing with the wrong guy, which you SHOULD HAVE LEARNED last night but I guess you did not. Your desired location?

Fieramosca: I will be waiting for you behind St. Andrew’s cloister.

Cellini: Very well. I will be there.

Fieramosca: And I’ll send you to Hell.

*He leaves with his swordsmen.*

Cellini: This couldn’t have been timed worse. Ascanio, go get my sword.

*He does so, and the door opens again.*

godDAMMIT Fieramosca why are you alrea—

*He realizes that the person who has come in is not Fieramosca but Teresa.*

Teresa! Good God! TERESA!!!

Teresa: MY DAD HAS BETRAYED US

Cellini: what NOW

Teresa: So you know how the Pope said that no one from either Tuscany or Rome could marry me until the end of the day? ****

Cellini: ...I somehow did not hear about that?

Teresa: well that’s a thing ANYWAY even though the Pope himself made that order, my dad was like ‘screw this’ and was packing to take me away from Rome, but I slipped out and ran here as fast as I could to see you!

*Ascanio returns and gives Cellini his sword.*

What are you doing with that?

Cellini: Honey, I’ll be back soon.

Teresa: NO STAY HERE YOU’RE GONNA GET INTO A FIGHT

Cellini: ...that’s kinda the point?

Teresa: I’M NOT LETTING YOU GO

Cellini: TERESA IT’S OKAY I’M GONNA SEND YOUR FIANCÉ TO HELL

Teresa: wait WHAT

Cellini: Fieramosca came here and insulted me and challenged me to a duel.

Teresa: IT’LL BE A TRAP (knowing him and also because this is how every duel in the history of French opera turns out)

Cellini: Calm down, it’ll be fine.

Teresa: NO IT WON’T

Cellini: Look: your fiancé isn’t anything near a Hercules; he’s a buffoon with an extremely inflated ego and I’m gonna teach him a lesson he will never forget.

*He leaves with Ascanio.*

Teresa: seriously NO ONE listens to me around here and now I’m here all alone

Metalworkers: *offstage* CELLINI WHERE ARE YOU WHY DID YOU LEAVE

Teresa: What’s going on?

Metalworkers: LET’S GO

Teresa: If he doesn’t come back, I’m done for…

*Francesco, Bernardino, and the other metalworkers leave their work behind and come onstage.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: LET’S GO WE’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS

Teresa: What is happening???

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: EVEN THOUGH WE AIN’T GOT HATS OR BADGES WE’RE A UNION JUST BY SAYING SO AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW

Teresa: WHAT ARE YOU DOING

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE’RE ALL LEAVING

Teresa: BUT WHAT ABOUT CELLINI

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: HE MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON’T OWN US WE’VE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG AND WE’VE PAID OUR DUES

Teresa: Look, he’ll be back soon—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE BEEN KEEPING SCORE EITHER HE GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES HIM A WAR

Teresa: Please, go back to work, he’ll pay you tomorrow—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: SO HE GAVE HIS WORD? WELL IT AIN’T WORTH BEANS NOW HE’S GONNA SEE WHAT ‘STOP THE FURNACES’ REALLY MEANS

Teresa: He’ll pay you very well—

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: BUT WE NEED MONEY TO LIVE

Teresa: (Holy Virgin, don’t abandon us now!) I’M NOT LEAVING YOU

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: LET’S LEAVE

Teresa: PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU

*Fieramosca enters and Teresa sees him.*

OH GOD CELLINI’S DEAD

*She faints. Francesco and Bernardino help her up and support her.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: wait WHAT

Fieramosca: What...what is the meaning of this?!

Teresa: *reviving and pointing to Fieramosca* Good workers...that man has killed your master...avenge him!

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: he WHAT OH HE KILLED CELLINI HE WILL PAY FOR THIS LET’S KILL HIM

*They start attacking Fieramosca.*

Fieramosca: NO NO STOP IT I AM YOUR FRIEND

*Gold coins fall out of his pockets; the workers see them.*

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: Dude, why do you have so much money on you? Not that we care, but you could get robbed.

Fieramosca: I was just coming to give you a better salary than you get here…

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: A BETTER SALARY WOULD BE NICE BUT NOT FROM YOU BECAUSE YOU KILLED CELLINI SO WHAT SHOULD WE DO ABOUT THIS OH WE KNOW LET’S THROW YOU INTO THE FURNACE

Fieramosca: WAIT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I’M YOUR FRIEND

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: THROW HIM INTO THE FURNACE

*Chaos ensues. Suddenly, from nearby:*

Cellini: HEY WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE

*Cellini and Ascanio enter.*

Teresa, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: OMG YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE

Cellini: Indeed I am! Why wouldn’t I be?

*Teresa rushes over to Cellini and embraces him.*

Teresa: THANK GOD YOU’RE OKAY

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: WE ALL THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD AND THAT FIERAMOSCA KILLED YOU

Cellini: Well then, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

*He goes over to Fieramosca, who is sweating and panting like an ox.*

What were you doing here while I was waiting for you behind St. Andrew’s cloister?

Fieramosca: I was coming...I’m coming…

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: YEAH HE WAS COMING ALRIGHT HE WAS COMING TO TRY TO HIRE ALL OF US

Cellini: Let me get this straight: you were trying to bribe my entire workshop?

Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: YEAH HE WAS

Cellini: watch out because I’m about to get VERY ANGRY IF YOU DIDN’T ALREADY GET THE HINT

Fieramosca: I was coming...I’m coming…

Cellini: You’ve come—to work!

Everyone Else: wait WHAT

Cellini: YES HE WILL WORK GET AN APRON ON HIM AND MAKE SURE HE TAKES HIS PLACE IN THE WORKSHOP AND DOESN’T TRY TO SABOTAGE ANYTHING OR BY GOD—

Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: THIS IS THE BEST IDEA EVER C’MON FIERAMOSCA GET TO WORK OR CELLINI WILL MAKE YOU TAKE A VERY UNPLEASANT BATH IN A BUNCH OF MELTED BRONZE

Fieramosca: ugh not this AGAIN very well I’ll go to work

*He puts on an apron.*

Cellini, Teresa, Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and Metalworkers: Alright, everyone, it’s time to go back to work and finish everything up!

Fieramosca: I’ve already taken one very unpleasant bath this week and I don’t want another so let’s go to work

Ascanio: THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER

*Everyone goes to work except Teresa and Ascanio.*

*****Teresa: I feel much better about this now, but the sky is getting dark…

Ascanio: Have courage! Before long, we’ll be through the storm and into a safe port and everything will be okay.

*He goes to join Cellini and the others. The Pope enters with his retinue and Balducci.*

Balducci: TERESA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

The Pope: Be quiet!

*Teresa kneels before the Pope.*

Teresa: Holy Father, forgive me!

The Pope: Rise, my child. Tell me: how did you get here?

Balducci: EXCUSE ME—

The Pope: IN THE NAME OF GOD SHUT UP

Teresa: Well, my father wanted to take me away from Rome so I couldn’t marry Cellini, but I thought you would be forgiving, so I came here and joined Cellini in order to wait for you and the casting and hopefully my marriage to Cellini!

The Pope: oh Dio mio you really should honor your father, BUT your father failed entirely and very much dropped the ball in actively trying to go against my orders, so I forgive you.

Now, tell me, where is the man of the hour?

Teresa: There he is now!*****

*Cellini enters and acknowledges the Pope.*

The Pope: Well, have you finished?

Cellini: Not quite yet, Your Holiness, but everything is on track to be done soon, thank God; the metal is heating up right now and all that needs to happen is that the metal melt and flow into the mold, the very bowels of the earth, and become holy at your signal!

Balducci: The braggart!

The Pope: He’s faking his cheerfulness and honestly, it really annoys me, but we must wait and see how this goes. Very well: begin.

*Cellini signals the workers to begin. They work for a while to some of the slappiest orchestral music ever written in opera, until Fieramosca leaves his work and runs up to Cellini.* ******

Fieramosca: WE NEED MORE METAL OR ELSE WE’LL STOP WORKING

Cellini: What are you saying?

Fieramosca: WE NEED MORE METAL OR ELSE WE’LL STOP WORKING

Cellini: Let me check this out myself. If you’re lying, you’re in big trouble. If you’re telling the truth, I’m in big trouble…

*He runs to check on the work, leaving a very embarrassed Fieramosca behind.*

Balducci: Fieramosca?! Is that you?!

Fieramosca: ...Yeah.

Balducci: What are you wearing that for?

Fieramosca: Well, uh, it’s a long story…

Balducci: And your face is covered in soot! Really, I don’t understand you at all sometimes.

Fieramosca: Uh, well...shouldn’t even rival artists help one another every now and then?

*Cellini returns.*

Cellini: WE’RE DOING FINE FIERAMOSCA GET BACK TO WORK

*He gestures threateningly at Fieramosca, who immediately backs down and returns to the furnace, followed by Cellini.*

Teresa and Ascanio: He looks so pale! Dear God, don’t abandon him now!

Balducci and the Pope: He looks so pale! He’s getting nervous; he might be in trouble!

*Cellini returns, flustered.*

Cellini: Excuse me, but I really need to be back there supervising the casting. We’re getting pretty close now; we just added more metal to the furnace. Everything is being melted and it is all going very well.

*He goes back to supervise. Exactly fourteen seconds later, Francesco and Bernardino get his attention with a very unwelcome twist.*

Francesco and Bernardino: CELLINI THE METAL IS CONGEALING *******

Everyone Else: wait WHAT

Francesco and Bernardino: WE DON’T KNOW HOW IT’S HAPPENING BUT THE METAL IS CONGEALING

Everyone Else: THAT’S ACTUALLY REALLY BAD

Francesco and Bernardino: WE NEED MORE METAL

Cellini: But there should be more back there. Has it all been used?

Francesco and Bernardino: WE DON’T HAVE ANY MORE METAL WE NEED METAL NOW

Cellini: BUT I DON’T HAVE ANY MORE METAL

Everyone Else: you don’t have WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

Cellini: I’M DONE FOR

Everyone Else: HE’S DONE FOR

The Pope: Well, that’s the one thing that can make him dumbfounded.

Balducci: FINALLY HE’LL BE HANGED

Everyone: oh sh—oh shoot he’s done for

Balducci: *ironically* Oh, you, such a genius as you are, are tortured by just a simple little nothing? You know everything, your skill is infinite! Turn that little frown upside-down!

Cellini: you’re not helping and I would say some choice words to you but we’re both in the presence of the Pope and that is the only thing restraining me at the moment

Francesco, Bernardino, and The Workers: WE NEED METAL NOW

Francesco: WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME THE FIRE’S GOING OUT

Cellini: Wait! What...what should I do?

Francesco, Bernardino, and The Workers: WE JUST NEED METAL MORE METAL MORE METAL

Cellini: DEAR GOD YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE LEFT SO PLEASE HELP ME OUT HERE BECAUSE I’M SO CLOSE TO GIVING IN TO DESPAIR AND I’M REALLY TRYING MY BEST DOWN HERE

Balducci: Um, not to spoil the mood or anything, but perhaps you should wait to chat with God until after we find out what happens with this statue?

Cellini: that doesn’t even make sense

Balducci: I mean you can give thanks then on the extreme off-chance that you actually pull this off.

Cellini: I’M SAVED GOD IS HELPING ME BECAUSE I JUST GOT AN IDEA

WORKERS GRAB EVERYTHING METAL YOU CAN FIND TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THE WORKSHOP AND THROW IT IN THE FURNACE

Francesco and Bernardino: WHAT YOU WANT US TO GET YOUR OTHER ARTWORKS AND THROW THEM IN THERE?!?!?!?!

Cellini: I DON’T CARE JUST GRAB ANYTHING METAL YOU CAN FIND INCLUDING MY ARTWORKS AND THROW IT IN NO MATTER WHAT METAL IT’S MADE OF IF IT’S METAL GRAB IT

*Ascanio grabs a candelabra and throws it in. Cellini does the same with every metal object he can find. Ascanio, Francesco, Bernardino, and some of the other workers start bringing in some of Cellini’s metal sculptures and passing them to other workers so they can be thrown into the furnace.*

Teresa: IT’S ALMOST TOO MUCH TO BEAR I HOPE HE MAKES IT IN THE END

The Pope: HE HAS SUCH BOLDNESS WILL HE MAKE IT IN THE END

Balducci: HE’S GOING MAD AND HE’S RUINING HIMSELF FOR A HOPELESS CAUSE

*The metal collection continues. The workers keep melting the objects and sculptures in the furnace. Suddenly there is a large explosion and the lid of the crucible mold is blown off.*

Teresa, Balducci, and the Pope: WHAT WAS THAT NOISE WHAT’S GOING ON DID IT HAPPEN OR NO

*Cellini, not daring to look, runs to the front.*

Cellini: IT EXPLODED I’M DONE FOR

Workers: LONG LIVE CELLINI VIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*Everyone turns to see the molten metal pour into the mold. The casting is successful.*

Everyone: VICTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*Fieramosca pushes through the crowd to find Cellini.*

Fieramosca: HEY LEMME THROUGH I WANT TO FIND MY DEAR FRIEND CELLINI AND EMBRACE HIM

Balducci: I KNEW HE COULD DO IT ALL ALONG SO TERESA HERE’S YOUR FUTURE

Cellini: well well well which of these two is the more cowardly suck-up???

Holy Father, I have completed the casting.

The Pope: Well, since God has blessed both your work and your boldness, I will hold up my end of the deal: I officially pardon you, Benvenuto Cellini.

Cellini: Teresa!

Teresa: Cellini!

Francesco, Bernardino, Workers, and Spectators: VIVA CELLINI

Teresa, Fieramosca, and Ascanio: IMMORTAL GLORY TO CELLINI

The Workers: Gold shines like the sun and rubies like fire in the night…

Teresa, Fieramosca, Balducci, Ascanio, Francesco, and Bernardino: GLORY TO HIM

Cellini: ONE LAST ROUND OF OUR SONG

Ascanio, Francesco, and Bernardino: LIKE YOU SAID JUST THE LAST VERSE BECAUSE IT’S THE BEST

TRA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA—

HONOR TO THE MASTER METALWORKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*General celebration.*

Notes

THE END

Up Next: Così fan tutte

#opera #opera tag #Benvenuto Cellini #Berlioz #Hector Berlioz #Henri Auguste Barbier #Léon de Wailly #Opera Simplified

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wolfhuntsmoon · 5 years ago

Text

Sarah Rogers and how Steve inherited ‘stubborn little shit’ from the womb

Okay, so I was noodling on Sarah after reading her Marvel wiki and some extraordinarily good posts about how EG Steve should have gone back to see his mum instead of Peggy etc and the timings of Steve’s early story struck me as... interesting.

Steve is born on 4th July 1918, before the end of WWI, meaning he would have been conceived in September or October of 1917 - that is, if he was born on time or only a few weeks premature. Which, given the tech and prognosis for preemies in the early 20th century, must have been the case because things were grim enough even if you weren’t born prematurely, for both baby and mother. If you were giving birth, you had a 6% chance of dying in Ireland in this period - roughly comparable with the rest of Europe but shockingly high by our standards. The odds were better if you were rich, but not by that much. Childbirth remained the leading cause of death for women worldwide until the late 1940s, remember. And kids fared no better. One in five children born in Dublin in this period died before their 5th birthday. Again, the figures would be better or worse depending on how well off you were, but even the richest still suffered appalling infant mortality rates.

Anyway, depressing history of women’s health aside, this means that Joseph Rogers, American solider, and her, must have been doing the do about then, and probably seeing each other on the regular before that, because believe you me, casual sex in the early 20th century was a big no no. Not to say it didn’t happen, but usually only via prostitution ESPECIALLY in Ireland, because the Catholic Church ruled supreme there even more than the British did and contact between the sexes was very restricted and frowned upon. Sex ed was nonexistent, and women knew that even a whiff of scandal about them was enough to ruin them, their entire family, and the rest of their life. It’s a hackneyed joke because it’s true: Ireland is small and everyone knows everyone. You would get found out and then suffer the consequences - sent to a mother and baby home if you were lucky, and those places were worse than prisons sometimes. That cultural context would carry over even if Sarah wasn’t actually in Ireland at the time.

So, likely they were married by then, because again: social ruin. The Marvel wiki says they were married, but not when. (I know nothing about the comics, I’m sorry) Soldiers and their sweethearts often married very quickly, and there are actually quite a few accounts of nurses falling in love and marrying the soldiers they tended. (More on this later) However, if she was widowed and could have the child respectably, why not return to Ireland? With, presumably, a support network that makes emigrating to America a worse, not better, prospect? This is the crux of my theory: Sarah Rogers was seen as an unmarried mother, and treated as such, because she married Joseph abroad, probably without permission, and when he died, had no social proof of the marriage. And in those days, unmarried mothers either: aborted in secret, had the baby concealed by the church where they were then taken and given up for adoption, or were cast out with nothing and ostracised if they decided to keep the baby. Sarah ending up in America strikes me as her taking the third option, and indeed the only option she could, to keep her baby.

But first: Joseph and Sarah need to meet in order to get down and dirty. How? He’s an American soldier who would never have set foot in Ireland in WWI - the British government kept their troops there, obviously, but the Americans were all put straight onto the continent or mainland Britain once they crossed the Atlantic from 1917 onwards (remember the US only joined in WWI in April 1917). In fact, the US wasn’t able to send significant numbers of troops to Europe until the following spring of 1918, because their army was so small and outmoded for trench warfare they basically had to send a lot of stuff over until they had enough trained bodies, which took about a year to organise. Based on this, if Joseph and Sarah were making baby Steve in September 1917, Joseph must have been in the regular US army before it entered the war, and likely in for quite a long time and experienced, to be sent over so soon. That experience would have been invaluable, meaning he never would have been assigned to stay in Ireland even if the US did send troops there. He would have been deployed straight onto the battlefield.

In which case, if Joseph never sets foot in Ireland, then how does he meet Sarah? Well, we’re told she’s a qualified nurse, and that was a solidly middle class job back then. You needed to have a good education, beyond primary level (which was all that was free for kids back then - you had to pay for secondary or tertiary level) and speak English well. In addition to that, your training to be a nurse took three years, and you weren’t paid or funded at all for those. So I don’t buy the theories that she emigrated to America only speaking Irish and totally penniless. Sarah most likely came from quite a well off family to become a nurse, although it’s not impossible she rose from much humbler circumstances as there were a number of scholarships and the like for the deserving poor set up by rich upper class ladies bored out of their minds drinking endless teas in salons who liked to do things like Help the Poor but only if they’re Pure and Mannerly. Qualified nurses were paid about £40/year in WWI by the British government, when your average domestic maid would have been earning about £20/year - quite a big difference.

Either way, Sarah, as a nurse, was exactly the kind of woman the British government was desperate to recruit by 1915-1916 when the true scale of modern attritional warfare became clear, and no longer pussyfooted around keeping women and their delicate sensibilities away from the battlefield. The Battle of the Somme between July-Nov 1916, for example, claimed the lives of over 20,000 British soldiers ON THE FIRST DAY. The British alone sustained over a million casualties (dead, missing or wounded) across the whole battle. They couldn’t afford to stay prudish. There were just too many casualties to deal with. They even opened up medical degrees to women without restrictions because they were so desperate! Which was a big part of the reason why Britiain introduced conscription for the first time in 1916, including in Ireland (which led to the Easter Rising and Irish War of Independence, hoo boy was that a mistake). Droves and droves of young women were recruited to fill all sorts of jobs while the men were away, but a large number also went overseas to the battlefields of Belgium and France. Sarah must have been one of them. If she was qualified beforehand, she would most likely have been sent to work in a field hospital abroad, because the voluntary members were mostly kept working as assistants on the British mainland. Lots of women joined these Voluntary Aid Detachments (VADs) at the start of the war to nurse wounded soldiers, but the military hated the idea of using them until they couldn’t cope in 1915. Even then, volunteers were only used for the more menial tasks. Professionals like Sarah were what was needed the most.

Now, I’ve said that she likely came from a middle class family, so money probably wasn’t a worry until after she got to America, later on. Why go, given the pay wasn’t significantly more than you’d earn as a nurse at home? Well, the rigid social hierarchy of the time broke down in some pretty major ways out there, and it was likely the only chance an unmarried woman would ever get to travel that wouldn’t immediately ruin her reputation. And if you accept more the idea she became a nurse via scholarship and was poor, the increase in pay working abroad would have been sorely appreciated. And we can also consider patriotism might play a role - not all Irish were rabidly anti-British before 1916. Indeed, many ordinary and middle class Irish only became ardently nationalist in the wake of the brutal repression following the 1916 Easter Rising. And more than that, many Irish, even if they disliked the British, disliked the idea of the Germans and Austrians-Hungarians winning the war even more. Personally, I think Sarah was an adventurer who seized her chance to escape the restrictive social confines of Ireland and didn’t once look back, even if her family disapproved.

I couldn’t find a birthdate for Sarah, or a maiden name to tell me where she might have hailed from (thanks, Marvel. Not.) But let’s say she was part of that first initial wave of volunteers who signed up in 1914 - because it was HUGE. It’s really difficult for us, so jaded now, to get into the mindset of people then, but they did sign up in huge numbers. Partly due to patriotism, partly because they thought the war would be over by Christmas, partly fear of being shamed for not ‘doing their bit’ - there were lots of reasons. But it’s very telling that the British government didn’t feel the need to introduce conscription for men until two years after the war broke out, and they never introduced a civilian equivalent. So Sarah would have been very familiar with the horrors of the battlefield and the war by the time fresh faced Joseph Rogers arrives on the scene in 1917.

How did they meet? Sarah would have most likely been working in a field hospital, overseeing a team of volunteers. Field hospitals were behind the front lines, but only by a few miles, and nurses were killed by enemy shelling and gas attacks. They were the first real point of medical care most soldiers would encounter after having bandages slapped on them at a dressing station in the trenches, before being carted off to the field hospital (if they survived the journey) by stretcher bearers, horses, or increasingly as the war continued, motorised ambulances. So Sarah and her ilk were lasses made of steel, honest to god. They were in the thick of the worst of it, men screaming and dying, and often afraid for their lives while they tried to care for them. A lot of those nurses developed PTSD (then called shell-shock) as a result. Jospeh is most likely to have met her if he was a wounded patient of hers brought in from the battlefield. But only lightly wounded - if he had been badly wounded he would have been shipped straight back to mainland Britain to convalesce as soon as he was stabilised, thwarting any budding romance.

We’re also told that Jospeh dies in a mustard gas attack. So this hospital trip must have been for something different - a broken bone perhaps, or a minor shrapnel wound that would see him off duty for a while but still stationed in the area and therefore able to court Sarah. Young people (Sarah must have been less than 28 because that was the cut off age for nurses to be recruited in 1915-1916) being young people, I imagine they fell in love, fell in to bed, and biology did its magic. The timescale on this is open to interpretation, because the ABSOLUTE earliest they could have met is May 1917 (travel time by ship from America to Europe took weeks during the war), and Steve must have been conceived by October, latest. Which is a pretty whirlwind romance, but not unusual for the time. The Germans first used mustard gas from July of 1917, but Joseph must survive up until September/October.

So, that cause of death as mustard gas? This is strange given how mustard gas was well known at the time to be the ‘best’ gas to have inflicted on you. It produced horrific blisters and burns, particularly on the inside of your throat and airways, but rarely killed. Chlorine and phosgene were MUCH deadlier. So Marvel saying this is more poor research, but let’s go with it - gas affecting you would make it that much more likely you’d be caught by machine gun or shellfire or any of the other myriad ways to die on a WWI battlefield. Here’s where things start to align quite nicely (well, badly for Sarah, but good for fic writers) as mustard gas was deployed by the Germans on a large scale between October 9th-12th to defend the Passchadaele Ridge from a joint British and French assault on the German defences. This was part of the second biggest battle of WWI, the Battle of Passchendaele, notorious for the seas of mud men had to slog through up to their waists, and one of the battles which, like the Somme, gave WWI generals such bad reputations. In three months the British lost 350,000 men and advanced just a few kilometres. They abandoned the battle on November 10th.

So, Joseph Rogers? Must have died between October 9-12th, well before Sarah realised she was pregnant even if Steve was conceived at the start of September. Likely he was caught in a mustard attack, started choking because he couldn’t get his gas mask on/hadn’t got it fitted properly, and then was killed by gun or shellfire after his initial injury. Mustard gas took time to affect the skin and membranes of the body, so if he fell while the gas was still around, it would have looked much worse by the time his body was identified and retrieved from the battlefield. The date, however, means Joseph died never knowing he was going to be a father (sad!), and Sarah, newly widowed, likely didn’t see any reason not to continue working as a distraction until she encountered the first signs of preganancy. The stiff upper lip thing was a real coping mechanism back then. She would have been kicked out as soon as anyone could tell, or she told them and got kicked out, because that was legal and expected then. Pregnant women were fired for being pregnant in any job, and the idea of a pregnant woman working in a theatre of war, as you can imagine, would have outraged everyone.

So, Sarah gets kicked out, has no job. She’s widowed and pregnant. But, the marriage would probably have taken place without her family’s permission (letters were pretty slow and heavily censored on the front lines, the timeframe likely wouldn’t allow for anything except a note telling them she married) and although she would have had a marriage certificate, turning up at home without a husband but with a baby from a military camp? Would have been a deep, deep scandal at the time. Particularly if Sarah came from a middle class family who would have been extremely conscious of their social position and the danger she and her baby posed to it. Catholic mores plus unsanctioned marriage plus Irish social structures equals daughter returning in disgrace to besmirch the family name in a way that is literally unthinkable at the time. Family therefore issues an ultimatum - come back and get rid of the baby and the marriage cert so you can be respectable, or don’t come back at all. I really cannot stress this enough - families would, and did, prefer to say the woman had died and never have any contact with them again, rather than accept an unmarried mother back into their house.

Sarah, being Sarah though, grits her teeth, spits in God’s eye, and packs her bags for the first steamship to New York. She was a lot better equipped than most to make the journey, with some savings from her salary and a profession she could rely on once she arrived. But it was still a recklessly brave thing to do because at this point in time the ENTIRE Atlantic was infested with German U-Boats who were doing their level best to sink any Allied or Allied associated ship they could get in their periscope sights. And they were terrifyingly effective in 1917, although by the end of the year when Sarah would have beeen sailing, countermeasures like the convoy system had greatly reduced this. But still scary as fuck, because by that point the German U-Boats were even sinking hospital ships - until then left alone by both sides.

She probably arrived in the US in January or February of 1918 - it would have taken time to arrange her travel and the journey itself took 3-4 weeks. Little Steven G Rogers came into the world on July 4th, 1918, without a clue as to the sacrifices his mother made to keep him and bring him to America, or the heartache she endured in the previous years. And that, my fellow nerds, is why Sarah Rogers is AWESOME and a sorely underused character and development point for Steve in the MCU. Because to do what she did, and to make it through took more than guts, it took sheer bloody-minded spite and stubbornness, and hey - who does that remind us of? Steve doesn’t grow up and get angry and fighty - no, he’s got that shit in his GENES from Sarah from the beginning.

EDIT: Part 2 is up! Consisting of Sarah’s journey and entry to America, plus how Very Not Good it was to be Irish whilst trying to do so.

#Sarah Rogers #IS AWESOME I WILL HEAR NO DISSENT IN THE RANKS #no seriously #the facts bear it out #fandom meta #captain america #backstory #character development #mcu #she was criminally underused #because you KNOW steve and bucky WORSHIPPED her #steve rogers #bucky barnes #joseph rogers #wwi #ireland #emigration

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things2mustdo · 4 years ago

Link

Recently there’s been a lot of talk about whether or not the media has our best interests at heart, and with more and more men awakening from the feminist matrix, it seems that the mainstream media is going the way of the dinosaur.

Donald Trump has been urging the public not to trust the mainstream media, but I’m sure that if you’re a reader of Return Of Kings, you don’t need him to tell you that. The modern mainstream media is basically the same thing as the Church was in the 1200’s—they control the flow of information, and they don’t like it when people disagree with them. In fact, if someone who disagrees with them gets popular enough, they often times resort to smear campaigns (see: smearing Roosh as a manipulative pickup artist, and Milo as a pedophile apologist).

Now, I know what you’re thinking—“I know the media doesn’t report on things, Jon, but fake news? That’s, like, intentionally lying and manipulating information, isn’t it?” Yes, sir, it is—and this is what the mainstream media, particularly CNN, has been doing ever since television became popular.

Here’s 5 examples of how CNN is, in fact, “fake news”:

1. Kicking Bernie Sanders Off-Air

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWQcxUIYUcQ

Bernie Sanders, the unofficial leader of the socialist movement in America, recently called CNN “fake news,” before being kicked off the air. CNN tried to play this off as a “connection issue,” but anyone with a grain of common sense knows better.

Bernie: “…who is the head of Russia, and now we’re learning that there may have been discussions between Flynn and the Russians, about sanctions, before this administration took power. So this is very, very troubling, and I think the president is going to have to tell us what he’s gonna do about it.”

CNN Anchor: “So far he hasn’t said much…he was asked about Flynn on his flight to Mar-a-Lago late today…here’s how he responded:

[plays clip of Donald Trump denying obvious lie directed towards him]

CNN Anchor: “He says he hasn’t seen any of these reports. Is that a problem?”

Bernie: “Well, I don’t know, maybe he was watching CNN Fake News, what do you think?”

Bernie: [sees her offended look] “It was a joke.”

CNN Anchor: “You don’t buy what he said, obviously?”

Bernie: “Erin?”

Bernie: “Kevin, I’m not—are we on?”

CNN Anchor: “Umm, it looks like we’ve lost connection with Senator Sanders…”

Right, of course. You just happened to “lose connection,” with Senator Sanders conveniently right after he called you fake news.

2. “Racism” Is Why Adele Won Grammy

After Adele won the song of the year, record of the year, and best solo pop performance awards, it wasn’t long before CNN charged in to proclaim that “racism,” was the cause. CNN “reports”:

…”but with its racial themes and imagery, some are questioning if the project was “just too black” for Grammy voters. Kevin Powell, author of the memoir “The Education of Kevin Powell” and a forthcoming biography on rapper Tupac Shakur, thinks so. He told CNN “Beyonce’s ‘Lemonade’ made a lot of people uncomfortable, because it is so political, so spiritual, so unapologetically black, and so brutally honest about love, self-love, trust, betrayal.”

Right, because apparently Beyonce, despite being nominated for 62 Grammy awards, and winning a whopping 22 Grammy awards, is being discriminated against. In the Leftist’s delusional reality, any time a white person succeeds, it’s due to “racism,” yet any time a black person succeeds, it’s due to “overcoming insurmountable odds.”

Give me a break. Adele won the Grammy, because the panel thought her songs were better, period. This has nothing to do with racism, but apparently CNN still thinks it’s a good idea to race-bait the hell out of current events in 2017. I don’t see this changing anytime soon, either.

3. Venezuela Bans CNN For Lies

According to Fox News World, the president of Venezuela actually asked CNN to leave:

“CNN, do not get into the affairs of Venezuelans. I want CNN well away from here—outside of Venezuela. Do not put your nose in Venezuela.” -Nicolas Maduro

…and can you blame him? CNN has repeatedly shown how ridiculously biased they are, and they’ve shown how willing to lie they are, for the past year after running a gigantic smear campaign against Donald Trump.

Didn’t CNN claim that The Donald had a 3% chance of being elected president? What did they do, just poll the gender studies department at UC Berkeley? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, because nobody in their right mind would ever accidentally come to the conclusion that our current president had a 3% chance of winning.

In fact, other independent journalists such as Mike Cernovich actually predicted that Donald would win months before the election day in November—how? Because they saw the trends. They saw that men were tired of being emasculated and having their lives ruined, they saw that we’re tired of being shamed for our whiteness, and they saw that the people of America were starting to wake up from their NWO conditioning.

4. “Our Job Is To Control Exactly What People Think.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoXGV4Vw-VA

Yeah, yeah—I know this one isn’t CNN, but they’re all the same to me. MSNBC, NBC, CBS, ABC, CNN, and even Fox News to an extent…they’re all just different heads on the same globalist-controlled hydra. Buckle in though, boys, because this one’s pretty bad…and it just happened days ago.

Mika Brzezinski, whose name should automatically create suspicion in the wary citizen, recently stated on MSNBC that it’s “our job,” to “control exactly what people think.” I honestly couldn’t even make this stuff up, but if you don’t believe me, you can watch it in the video above.

Mika Brzezinski: “Well, I think the dangerous edges here are that he’s trying to undermine the media, trying to make up his own facts, and it could be that while unemployment and the economy worsens, he could have undermined the messaging so much that he could control exactly what people think…and that is our job.”

No, Mika, that isn’t your job. Your job is to report the facts and let THE PEOPLE decide what to think, but if you can’t get that through your thick skull I guess we’ll just stop watching your crappy network.

5. Donald Trump Calls CNN “Fake News”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZI0Q3LQZmo

Ah, I saved the best for last—I do love me some Donald burns. After a CNN “news reporter” tried to aggressively ask Donald a question for some odd 20 seconds, repeatedly interrupting him and interjecting his way into the conversation, Donald lost it and called him “fake news.”

And who could blame him? They spent the last 8 months doing absolutely everything within their power to completely ruin Donald Trump’s chances at winning…and yet, by the grace of God, and by the memes of Pepe, lord of Keks, the Trump train smashed its way through the entire god damn establishment…and won.

Trump: [to other reporter] “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “MR. PRESIDENT SINCE YOU’RE ATTACKING US CAN YOU GIVE US A QUESTION!”

Trump: [to CNN] “No.”

Trump: [to other reporter]: “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “MR. PRESIDENT ELECT! MR. PRESIDENT ELECT! SINCE YOU ARE ATTACKING OUR NEWS ORGANIZATION,”

Trump: [to CNN] “No, not you.”

Trump: [to other reporter] “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “CAN YOU GIVE US A QUESTION,”

Trump: [to CNN] “Not you.”

CNN Fake News: “GIVE US A CHANCE! MR PRESIDENT”

Trump: [to CNN] “Your organization’s terrible.”

CNN Fake News: “CAN YOU GIVE US A CHANCE, JUST LET US ASK…”

Trump: [to CNN] “Your organization’s terrible.”

CNN Fake News: “LET US ASK A QUESTION, SIR! SIR!”

Trump: [to CNN] “Quiet.”

This goes on for literally 25 seconds, before Trump finally becomes visibly angry and proclaims:

Trump: [to CNN] “You are fake news.”

If the President of the United States of America thinks that CNN is fake news, I think they’re probably fake news.

Summary

In conclusion, if you still watch the mainstream media, don’t. Get your news from real news sites, like Return Of Kings, Info Wars, Gateway Pundit, Drudge Report, and Cernovich. The MSM has shown us multiple times in the past that they’re globalist whores, selling out the American public to fatten their own pockets.

I recently bought an Info Wars shirt to start wearing around in public, and the results have restored my faith in America. Everywhere I wear it, I’ve gotten complements—it’s not that often, but you’d be surprised how many men are awake, but just don’t broadcast it.

The MSM would have you believe that 99% of the American public hates Trump, but it’s really only something like 10% who hate him, and maybe 25% more who dislike him.

I usually wear Info Wars, Breitbart, and Trump apparel to the gym, because most guys who have a shredded six pack from lifting heavy ass weights are strong and masculine, and are therefore not subject to stupid social pressures that the media uses to influence you.

Do your part in spreading the good gospel of the manosphere, the alt-news, and the resurgence of America, and we’ll reclaim our country for sure. Let’s all make America great again.

https://www.returnofkings.com/165920/how-journalists-became-whores

Journalists are supposed to follow a set of rules and values called deontology. These rules say journalists should strive to be impartial, objective, and to inform their readers. We know well this is not the true nature of their activity.

Most MSM journalists today if not all are spinsters. They cherry-pick their facts and craft narratives around to steer people towards an untold yet ever-present agenda. They make up stereotypes while attacking other stereotypes, they make up ideas while attacking other ideas, as it suits the editorial line of their employer.

In the name of information, journalists create and fulfill an artificially constructed consciousness. They are paid to do so. They believe what they’re doing is normal or cool, just like the Ministry of Truth in Orwell’s 1984, where officers burn archives then forget they just destroyed records (soon to be rewritten); your average leftist journalist spins all the time, follows all the time, yet doesn’t even know he spins and follows.

A little bit of history

If you lend an ear to leftist historians, up to perhaps to age of discoveries, the West didn’t know much. Everybody were locked into their own towns and fields. Well, this is not true. Europeans had known about the Silk Road from time immemorial. Kings and the clergy had their messengers, their events, their gatherings. Individuals like Saint Bernard or Saint Thomas of Aquino were quite familiar with communicating at a distance.

It was just much slower than today—and quite of a luxury as well. Common folk had to rely on minstrels, travelers, and on their own travels. Most communication was done orally. Academics today love to point out how unreliable the bush telegraph is, but at least this communication is done naturally between common people rather than top-down from a shadowy agenda.

Also, as slow as this word-to-mouth communication was, people then did not need more: they could make a living on their own, with the insurance that they could consume it themselves or sell it. Markets tended to be stable, and whether you were a field-tiller or a craftsman, you didn’t need to know about the latest fad not to be left behind. People were also much less bored and in need of diversions. Didn’t have newspapers, didn’t need them.

Then came the printing press. What had been done by scribes secluded in monasteries became partly automatized and multiplied. Bibles were printed. Then pamphlets. By the time, Protestantism had well developed, clever princes tried to use it to their advantage, and the Catholic church counter-attacked by launching one of the most manipulative orders ever created.

More power to independent people meant chaos. Printing outside of the rigid hierarchy of the Church meant a never-ending contest of ideas, systems, tastes, experiences, and egos. The hypocritical journalists of now who chide “trolls” while sniffing their own written farts should remember that trolling appeared as a side-effect of the printing press, as it became possible to say anything remotely instead of being necessarily confrontable. Plus, trolling helps to think of things to talk about with a girl.

Nevertheless, printing what you wanted was not that simple. First, literacy was still the hallmark of a comfortable upbringing, and second, you had to be able to print. You had to know a printer, had to make a deal with him and pay him. Not to mention the dissemination of your lovely printed book. It was always possible to print in a country with virtually no censorship, then smuggle books, but who was to receive them and share them?

No matter what you had to say, you always needed to address a noble-bourgeois audience, which meant catering to fashionable topics or debates. Otherwise, your material would be simply ignored. Authors who weren’t too well-known had to rely on booksellers who conspired to arrange a discrete monopoly on over-the-counter books. Yep, the world of “culture” has always been murky, and its members believe this is a sign of their superior intelligence.

As “culture” developed, with its train of noise, untold rivalries and social parasitism, periodic journals were printed at an ever-faster pace. Eighteenth century bi-annuals were replaced by daily or weekly newspapers. Which meant a great need, not for amateur gentlemen, but for people who could write constantly. Such people would be called journalists.

The modern journalist plant

If you believe journalism is about informing the public, forget it immediately. There is no such thing as an automatic progress which just makes happen what seems desirable. If an unbiased, all-objective information seems desirable, that does not mean someone will pay for it or even manage to get it. Even the CIA Factbook was made in the first place because objective information would benefit the CIA itself, not “enlighten the masses” or whatever a leftist salesman would say.

A journalist is basically someone who is paid to write on particular issues, in a well-defined format, as his boss sees fit. A journal belongs to someone—no matter if the owner is public or private—who usually has its own aims. Whether the newspaper has to simply sell or shape the opinion, it always aims at something else than merely informing.

(Even ROK has an agenda, and I’m fine with it, because I believe it is sound and fair, but I’d never pretend I write for the sole love of truth or as if I was a disembodied soul with no consciousness of its own. Any writer having such pretenses is a hypocrite or a liar.)

Back to the nineteenth century. Newspapers were just like factories. As plant workers had to churn tangible products, journalists had to churn out impressions. They were like paid artists for the ephemeral, creating appearances that would sell, or satisfy, or infuriate—anything as long as it suited the editorial line of their employer. Journalists did not become whores. They were paid employees, to put it politely, from day one. But at least the blue collar workers had to pretense to say the truth or illuminate or whatever BS that sells.

Let’s say you were born with a high verbal IQ, a knack for writing, and some ideas. What could you do? You may consider writing books, become an intellectual, but book writing takes time and often doesn’t pay. If you can’t live like an annuitant, you must be an employee.

If you choose the written words, you have to conform to a preexisting editorial line, to a particular milieu that already existed before you did, in hope of being granted a job. Creating a journal demanded not only experience but capital as well. Can you pay a printer? Would a banker trust you if you asked him for a loan so you can start a journal?

As the nineteenth century was an epoch of exceptional growth, some people had this capital or trust, and many independent journals were formed. Many, though, were bought off, or chased away, or censored. The elite does not want you to become an influencer, unless, of course, you remain a perpetual servant of their agenda.

This is why mild conservatives are accepted as a stooge opposition, along with the alt lite, whereas those who really want to save civilization and its creators are reviled. The elites want to destroy civilization, so, their journalists, who all depend on them socially and financially, foster their agenda while lying to themselves on the nature of what they do.

So-called investigators are paid by Darth Soros to “investigate” on convenient targets while turning a blind eye on other things, like mass immigration, or upholding a mandatory narrative which rests not on truth but on pure social conformism—muh minorities r always good, muh white males r always wrong.

Perhaps the “fake news” offensive has been crafted, not only to maintain the masses into the blue pill matrix, but also to reassure the frail employees that they are serving truth and progress. Which is already dubious, as worshiping an arbitrary strand of “progress” has nothing to do with objectivity, just as the contemporary humanities are rather a Hollywood for nerds than a place of real knowledge, but you can’t ask vapid girls to get to this level.

No one writes for the sake of truth alone. Independent writers or journalists also speak of what they think relevant. They will mention XYZ facts because these are important, or, at least, ensure a modicum of success. Just like men tend to read Miyamoto Musashi quotes, not merely because he existed, but because he’s interesting.

Mainstream journalists are courtiers. They are paid by global elites to do their bidding. They work in cities just like filmmakers work in grand obscure studios—because their activity lies in creating perceptions, in shaping fashions, ideas, mottos, norms. The difference between a marketer, a journalist and a filmmaker is only of scale and means. The aim, and the bottom, is the same.

We are different, because we are bottom-up. When mainstream journalists sold their souls, we are upholding ours. The problem with this is that we’re ill-paid. The globalists and the boomers tend to concentrate all the money, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to witness that the non-mainstream outlets tend to all lack money. Such is the price of independence.

We ought to have our own money elsewhere, and have a lot of independent journalists around, so that autonomous individuals from our side can work or investigate and help masculine men to shape their own consciousness.

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gaymingbinosaur · 5 years ago

Note

F, R, I, E, N, and D. And X

@sexyshoelessgodofwar

F-longest fandom

I guess Avatar, I always liked the show as a kid and I looked up fanart. First time I started reading fic was dragon age

R- Any pairings or ships that you don’t think anybody else ships. Well I know one or two people ship it. @swiftieanimecat is the only one I talk too but Isabella/Jubilee. Like

Like I wrote all of them, I should write more so it looks less sad.

I- Has tumblr caused you to stop like any fandoms, if so, which and why?

This might be more salty then someone writing friend for an x game wants, but the dragon age fandom. I’m back in the fandom now, though I haven’t touched the game series again. Like I don’t want them to ruin my favorite game but it’s almost tainted, I feel guilt at doing absolutely nothing but starting the game. Like Cullen is the character I relate most to to in any media, even if I act more like Alistair and oh my god, people really think hating him is a virtue. There is so many characters that if you even have an opinion on your a bad person. Like doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad. And fuck you if you dare mention the fandom being toxic might be because people care too much about moral purity could be a part of it. Then your implying that bigotry in the fandom is okay, your ex using it you bastard!!! Oh so I can’t criticize anything your okay with this racist caricature. Like I live in conservative America, Christian Conservative America. And guilt tripping about not being pure enough is a major thing here, it’s a favorite pastime and the Dragon age fandom is worse with the purity. Like they aren’t even on the same level, not even fucking close. And love of God I’m bisexual and not cis, and had to listen to say that I am a sin, and somehow this fandom is worse. I don’t know how but they did it. Like at least with church they tell me Jesus loves me no matter what and that he died for me. I don’t get that comfort. And I’m going to stop. Or I will keep going and never stop with this rant. GAH!

E- Have you added anything cracky/hiliarious to your fandom and if so what?

Maybe this, I’m rewriting the first chapter and picking it up again. That actually might be one of the first fanfics I’ve written that wasn’t five year old me writting neopets. So it’s probably bad and it’s elder scrolls.

N- Name three things you wish you saw more in your fandom? I’m supposed to pick one but since I wrote for three fandoms one of each.

1) more arospec or aspec headcanons for Serana. I don’t know why but I don’t think she’s allo. Like maybe demi aro like me, maybe asexual. I don’t know but she doesn’t give off alloallo vibes. - Elder Scrolls

2) Galavant, more content creators. Like I know some more people giving some content with that show and I think the fanbase grew or became more active after I started that blog but for a while most content I could find was mine. And while I’m happy there is more content creators and that it was funny to scroll down recent posts in the Galavant tag and have it all be mine. There is less weird ships, or even non cannon ships, or a weirdly fleshed out side character. Like less writers, less we can branch out. Like the closest thing we have to a Rylen and I wrote all the fics of her on ao3. Like the Galavant one is hard for me, like the fan base is pretty much everything I ever wanted.

3) I saw some neat Fallout/Dragon age crossover ideas. It sounded awesome. Like one idea was Danse instead of being a synth brotherhood knight, is a templar with a spirit of valor inside of him. Like who ever wrote that head cannon write that shit. Oh and I’m slowly rewatching castle, but Cassvarric castle au. Not on ao3, Cascket is modern au Cassvarric. Change my mind. So, I guess more crossovers, maybe.

Also Bonus: BARRUS! PUT HIM EVERYWHERE! I DON”T CARE IF HE WOULD NEVER BE INVOLVED IN THE DARK BROTHERHOOD! HIM BEING IN YOUR FIC IMPROVES IT TEN FOLD! simple math!

D- A pairing I want to like but can’t

Ugh, most Cullen ships that aren’t an inquisitor. Just that ship helps me deal with shit, so none of them pack the same emotional punch as a ship I used to cope with tramau. If I had to pick a specific one Dorian x Cullen. Because by god they act like me and my sister and I can’t get that thought out of my head. So the ships are fine, it’s just me and my brain.

X-top ten characters who are precious babies and you will die defending them. I’ll leave Cullen off the list, mainly everyone knows I love him and I don’t go BABY with him, also Faraks, he not baby to me. I love him but he isn’t a baby, to some maybe but swings a great sword and has muscles the size of my head. I love him but I can’t protect him or pretend to. Not in any order

1) Alistair

2) King Richard

3) Sid

4) Martin Septim

5) Barrus

6) Cole

7) Roberta

8) Isabella

9) Preston- yeah he has an annoying quest but he seems decent. Haven’t took him out much but the little I did before I make a new oc and he seems like a decent person.

10) Veronica Santiago

Also Chef I can’t fit him but I love him.

#sexyshoelessgodofwar

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headoverjojo · 5 years ago

Text

Here we are here we are! Halloween special!! Firs of all, an immense thank you to @estellea who has been my beta-reader and whose support, advices and suggestions made this all possible! I mean, in general without her support I would have given up like months ago and more or less half of what I write and draw is basically out thanks to her constant support even when I’m horrendously down to the point that everyone would just be disgusted. She’s more a sister than a friend and really I’d never be thankful enough for everything she did and still does. Now let’s post it, I’m getting emotional-

You can read it also on AO3!

Of course, feedbacks are always appreciated 💖

The Secret Life of Vampire in Neapolis’ Suburbs

There was one thing that Abbacchio detested more than Giorno and sunlight. Abbacchio hated with all his heart when things changed, especially when they changed for the bad. And that change was really, really bad.

As every evening, Fugo came to wake him up, after checking if the sun was already disappeared. He had always been the first one to wake up, since that crazy month when Giorno, damn half-vampire Giorno, had vampirized them all. Well, almost everyone; Mista managed to come out alive and without the two small dots on his neck which all the others had. And he managed to because he was already a night creature, a werewolf, to be precise. He was now living a chill life with his pack, but he still came to see them every day; they were his best friends, after all!

After knocking at Abbacchio’s bedroom door, Fugo went to check if Narancia was already awake, jumping with a screech when the boy hopped from the side, howling sharply like a banshee. Narancia’s loud laughters echoed in the old house, while Fugo was grasping at the ceiling as his life -or, better, non-life- depended by it. As soon as Fugo recollected himself, he jumped back on the floor, roaring and running behind Narancia, who was already running and flying at very fast speed, still laughing. Bruno just sighed, when the two flashed in front of him, and went straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Breakfast was a quick affair, now that they all could eat just one type of food, but this didn’t mean that it should have been always the same boring thing. There were original ways to prepare blood-based dishes, you know. By now, Bruno was specialized in preparing blood gelee, blood puddings, blood marmalade… he had found out to be very creative, in the kitchen. A good thing, as he was stuck with a group of teenagers difficult to satisfy.

He sighed, when Abbacchio’s roaring scoldings joined Narancia’s loud laughs and Fugo’s screams. The same thing, every single evening…

“You all, drop the crap and come to have breakfast, immediately!” his voice, unnaturally loud, boomed in the house -one the benefits from being a vampire, he supposed- and, in few seconds, Narancia and Fugo flew down, in their bat shape, still bickering and crying. Bruno sighed again, while Abbacchio, livid as always, and Giorno, still with his curlers on, came down as well.

“Narancia, Fugo, just human shape when we’re having meals.” Bruno reminded and, with a pop, the two transformed back to their original form, Fugo still grumbling and Narancia still chuckling. Bruno frowned, however, noticing that one of the seats was empty.

“Where’s Trish?” he asked, looking around. Everyone lifted their heads, sniffing at the air, but there wasn’t any trace of Trish, even of her smell. They all, immediately, grew worried: she hadn’t been out during daytime, had she?!

“Narancia, Fugo, you check the north area; Giorno, go at Mista’s and search in the east and south area with him and his pack; Abbacchio, we’ll check the ovest area. Let’s go!” with a loud poof, they all changed their shape and with a vigorous flap of wings, five big bats flew outside, searching for the lost member of their clan.

After hours of researches, they found nothing. Trish was nowhere to be found; even Mista and his buddies didn’t find any trace of her. Wasn’t she…? No, it couldn’t be. Trish loved to live, even if it was a peculiar life. Right…?

Just when sunrise was approaching the group headed home, defeated. Where was she…?

“Ah, finally you’re here! Where the hell have you been?! And what about your phones? C’mon guys, I get you’re gangsters and yadda yadda, but you’re modern gangsters!” Trish’s limpid voice reached their ears the right moment they entered in the house and the boys flew -literally- to her, scaring the hell out of her.

“What the-”

“Trish! Trish, you’re fine! Thank goodness, we thought you were dust, by now!” Narancia hugged her tightly, sniffling, to Trish’s utter surprise. What…?

“Guys, are you alright? Are you drunk? Why should I have turned into dust? And what the hell is wrong with this house, there’s so much chaos! Didn’t we have a housekeeper? Where is she?” she fired a bunch of questions, putting her fists on her hips, imposing. Everyone looked at each other, before looking back at her.

“Well, we had a housekeeper, if you remember, until someone decided that she was a good snack.” everyone eyed at Narancia, who just scoffed. “And since then, we never had one. You know… to avoid unwanted attentions.” Fugo explained, crossing his arms. Trish was as pale as a ghost and, at the same time, completely taken aback. Again, what?

“A snack?” she hoped to have heard or interpreted in the wrong way. Since when Narancia was a cannibal? And still, what about that dust thing?

“Yeah, He sucked her dry, poor Concetta.” Giorno sighed, closing his eyes. Trish’s empty gaze said everything about how much she was understanding about that situation. Now, that was weird. Why was Trish acting so weirdly? It almost seemed like she didn’t even remember that she was a vampire!

“Anyway, Trish, why are you asking? I mean, you know it. It happened little after, uh, Christmas 2004.” Narancia observer, shrugging. At Trish’s astonished silence, the group began to grow really worried. What was wrong with her?

“Trish… Trish, dear, do you remember it, right? About our housekeeper, about Mista’s pack, the explosive 2010 new year’s Eve, when Giorno woke up, at the end of 2001, and bit us all turning us into vampires?” Bruno asked, softly. Trish took a seat and that was her only answer.

“But how could it happen?” Abbacchio pondered, swirling a burgundy red liquid in a crystal glass. Fugo sighed, taking a sip from his own mug -a customized cup with “Edward Cullen’s a bottom” printed on-, pensive.

“Insolation.” he declared, claiming everyone’s attention. Giorno frowned, perplexed, and, so, Fugo proceeded to explain.

“Giorno, you’re just half-vampire, so you don’t count. We all know that sun can kill us, right? But yesterday it wasn’t sunny. It was cloudy. What if the daylight was enough to damage her, to, like, provoke an amnesia, but not enough to kill her? This would explain why she doesn’t remember anything about being a vampire but why she still knows where we live.” he gulped down the blood in his mug like a shot of coffee, sighing.

“We have to remind her about the whole vampire thing. We have to show her how we usually live and just hope it unlocks her memories.” he concluded, with a nod. Bruno passed a hand through his hair, leaning on the back of the seat.

“This is going to be a mess.” he muttered, already tired.

And, oh, he was right.

Trish had troubles to believe to the whole “we’re vampires and we’re in 2019!” story. First of all, weren’t vampires killed by sun, garlic, ash sticks and crosses? How could vampires live in Italy, that was full of all of them? Hell, Neapolis was the city of the sun, there were crosses and churches everywhere and don’t make her start with garlic!

“It’s actually pretty inaccurate. A vampire would die of garlic just if they’re already allergic to it, but it’s the same as peanuts or strawberries; crosses don’t hurt us, it was a bullshit invented to fight the fear; same as ash sticks. Our heart is already dead, stabbing it wouldn’t damage us at all. See.” Giorno explained, turning to his right side, the right moment when Narancia, launching himself from upstairs, screaming a loud “Leroyyyyyy Jenkiiiiinssss!” with an ash stick in his hand, landed on Abbacchio, playfully stabbing him in his heart. Before Trish could scream in horror, however, Abbacchio turned to the boy still on his back, completely ignoring the stick in his chest.

“It’s the third fucking coat you ruin, brat!” he roared, trying to shrug him off his back, while Narancia was laughing loudly.

“The Wednesday Ambush.” Giorno murmured, quietly watching Narancia transforming into a bat and flying away, immediately followed by a bigger and angry bat. On the floor, just a small puddle of blood and the stick signaled that something had happened.

“Why?” Trish exhaled, perplexed. Giorno shrugged, going to pick a cloth and bleach.

“‘Cause that’s how our life is. There’s not so much to do at night, even if we’re still in Passione, somehow. After years we came to a sort of routine.” the young man explained, while washing the blood away.

“Even social networks become boring, after a while.” Fugo added, while walking from the kitchen to the living room with a glittered mug filled with blood in his hands. The sight, the smell of it, were enough to make Trish’s throat hoarse and arid, as blood was the only thing that could alleviate that dryness. Giorno’s sharp eyes noticed how Trish cupped, for a second, her throat, and, after putting away the stained cloth and the bleach, he invited Trish to follow him to the living room, where Fugo was browsing on his phone while sipping his warm blood.

“Mind if we join you, Fugo?” Giorno asked, polite. Fugo too immediately noticed how Trish was acting and nodded, making place for them on the sofa.

“I swear, if Bruno sends another video of kittens in the group chat I’m going to screech.” Fugo grumbled, deleting the umpteenth video of kittens. Giorno huffed a small laugh, eyeing how Trish was staring at the cup.

“You would screech anyway.” he said, taking the cup from Fugo’s hand and taking a sip, before putting it back. Fugo hummed a “Fair point”, scrolling down the chat, before turning to Trish.

“Do you want a sip?” he offered her the cup, with a small smile. Trish gulped, feeling her throat pulsing. She wanted it…

“But… how do you drink it? You just… swallow it down?” the boys brightened at her question. She was finally getting accustomed again!

“Not exactly. You have to pull your fangs out.” Fugo started, showing her how to do it. He curled back his upper lip and, by doing so, his canines elongated to the point to be good fangs. Trish stared at it, shocked. Woah…

“And then you drink like this.” Fugo proceeded to show her how to drink and Trish could see that, even if it seemed that he was drinking normally, he was, in fact, sucking the blood through his fangs.

“All clear? Do you want to try?”he offered her his cup, that Trish took a bit hesitantly. This was so absurd…

However, when she bared her teeth like Fugo did, she felt her fangs emerging and she immediately sank them in the cup, sloppily sucking the blood up, feeling an immediate relief. Sweet nice…

Fugo and Giorno looked at her drinking, feeling relief washing over them. She was acting right…

Their Trish was coming back!

“Uh? Are we going out tonight? Where?” Trish crunched her bloody lollipop, making Bruno smile. She had always loved to crunch it… it was funny, she always said. And, also, it was the proof that her memories were, slowly but steadily, coming back.

“Yes. We’re going to meet with Mista in front of Castel dell’Ovo.” he confirmed, fixing the pins on the top of his head. His and the others’ style hadn’t changed much from those wild first months of 2001; it was a bit excessive, at the time, but now? Now they would have been the stars of the Milan Fashion Week.

“Sounds fun.” Trish threw the stick, perfectly aiming at the trash bin at the other side of the room, exulting, with Narancia, Fugo and Giorno, when she centered it. Bruno huffed a laugh, hearing Abbacchio’s muttered “Brats”; even if Leone always acted as a grumpy and gloomy old man, Bruno knew that he was really fond of the boys. He was just like this! And it also suited pretty well his vampire nature.

“Alright, kids, let’s go.” Abbacchio exhorted, getting up and putting on his dark coat stuffed and decorated with synthetic fur. Trish couldn’t help but to hide a grin, while putting on her own coat, black with pink decorations; Abbacchio was really suited to be a fashion vampire.

Trish never had so much fun, or, at least, for what she remembered. The sidewalk was a perfect catwalk and, oh, they were so at ease on it. By now, they had learned to ignore people’s gazes on them, on their clothes, flawless style; having so much time meant to have the chance to refine things like style even to the smallest detail and it showed. Noticing that Trish wasn’t really at ease, however, they squared protectively around her, chatting with her to distract her. It was way better…

“Ah, here you are! I was starting to worry, y’annow!” Mista exclaimed, exiting from a bakery with a small package in his hands. Trish couldn’t help but to smile: Mista too was always the same, always wearing that ridiculous bean hat and with his belly exposed even in the middle of the winter. Maybe his werewolf nature helped him to be always warm?

“Trish, dear!! It’s such a relief to see you!” he went straight to hug her, making her wheeze. Just Mista could make a creature who didn’t need to breath wheeze! She laughed a little, patting his back, content, huffing when he released her.

“So, Mista? Plans for the night?” Mista chuckled, showing the small bag he was holding. Trish sniffed something sweet, maybe whipped cream? And strawberries too…

“I have to feed the puppies, I’m in charge tonight. I’m about to throw a little party at my house, y’all are invited! C’mon!” he exhorted, gesturing to follow him, walking backside for a little, before turning to the right direction and taking Giorno under his arm, grinning. Giorno let him do what he wanted, rolling his eyes, but with a smile. He was his best friend, after all!

It didn’t take long to come to Mista’s house. The inside was dimly lighted by few appliques and Trish immediately sniffed a strong fur scent. That was the unmistakable house of a werecreature.

“Yo, Formaggio! Guess what I got?” Mista called, taking off his bean hat, freeing his unruly brown curls. Trish had always wondered how could so many curls stay hidden inside such a hat.

“What, blood-suckers?” the assassin appeared from the living room, waving at the group. Trish immediately tensed, ready to fight; why was a member of the Squadra Esecuzioni at Mista’s house?! And why no one was worried about it?!

Mista, noticing her worry and discomfort, smiled, reassuring.

“Trish, relax. He’s my cousin! More or less. We’re like… third grade cousins from mom’s side, yeah, Formaggio? Oh, also, I’ve got cake!” he laughed at Formaggio’s “Wohoo!” and passed him the cake. “Anyway, my family is big. I’m related to half Naples, in a way or another! And Formaggio happened to inherit the weregenes too, but he’s a werecat, not a werewolf. It’s the same as being werewolf, but, instead of howling to the moon, he spits fur balls.” Mista headed to the living room, where Formaggio was unwrapping a beautiful strawberry and whipped cream cake, Mista’s favourite. Trish looked around, curious, seeing that the whole room was decorated as for a party. There were balloons, garlands, food and blood for them… he really was about to throw a party!

“Are they here?! Can we eat now?!” a pack of kids of various ages, from five to fourteen, ran into the room with a loud rumble, immediately going to Mista and Formaggio. The younger man huffed, immediately picking up the cake and lifting it above his head, out of the kids’ reach.

“Not everyone’s here, we still miss uncle, so keep down those dirty paws!” he replied, while the puppies immediately pouted at his words. Seeing the sheer magnitude of disbelief on Trish’s face, Formaggio hurried to explain that mess.

“Those are our little cousins from the countryside. It’s easier to host them here, so they can go to school here in Naples.” he said, putting in line the kids, from the tallest to the smallest.

“Michelangelo, Vittorina, Ciro, Domenico, Agata and Carlo. Puppies, say hello to the blood-suckers.” Formaggio grinned when the kids chanted obediently a “Good evening, blood-suckers”, making Mista and the whole vampiric clan roll their eyes in sync.

“Who’s the last guest, Mista?” Bruno asked, curious. He started to feel cold shivers running down his spine when he saw Mista’s grin.

It was the grin that anticipated troubles.

“Oh, someone you already know.” he said, right before the doll bell rang. Mista trotted to open the door, leaving the group full of doubts and of an unspoken dread that was transformed into reality when they heard the voice that boomed from the doorsteps.

“Mista, you invited the vampires too? What a pleasure! We hadn’t seen for years! Since 2010 New Year’s Eve, right? What a party!” A tall man made his entrance in the room, laughing when the puppies sprinted to go dangling from his arms and neck, chewing at everything they could reach. Trish observed with stupor the man, his medium-long blonde hair, his cowboy hat… no, well, his entire cowboy attire. He seemed popped straight up from a western.

“Uncle Hol, do you remember Trish? She lost her memory, so I was thinking that maybe we could throw a little party like that year, yeah? It’d help her!” Mista explained, lively, while the others’ faces dropped in a second. Oh, no, no, he couldn’t be serious…

“Mista, you want to replay the 2010 explosive New Year’s Eve? The Big Kaboom?” Fugo exhaled, shocked. Mista’s grin was the only answer they needed.

“Oh, you can bet it, Fugo.” by the others’ faces, Trish got that the Big Kaboom hadn’t been something so good. Maybe she should have been scared?

“If this time things go beyond control, I don’t want to get involved.” Bruno muttered, with a big breath, ready, more or less, to face the Big Kaboom 2.0.

If it would have been useful to help Trish to completely regain her memories, then let the house explode, he thought.

#jjba #post vento aureo #kinda #alternative vento aureo #vampire!gang #werewolf!mista #bruno's gang #halloween #halloween special #spooky season #spooky shenaningans #spooky special #original piece #not a request

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mimicofmodes · 5 years ago

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Sanditon, episode 2 part i

At the beginning of the second episode, we’re basically fully departed from the novel fragment Jane Austen wrote.

Sidney, looking nice in a triple-collared greatcoat, fully pretends to be looking at something over his shoulder so that he doesn’t have to obviously ignore Charlotte. Even though she’s wearing a knitted spencer that laces up the front (???) and her hair is wet from a swim and down, it’s rude!

We go off to church, and Miss Denham is for once not in black! Her hat is technically kind of like the late eighteenth century “spa hat” or “Devonshire hat” that was briefly in fashion, a tricorn made of black straw, usually decorated with colored plumes. The way she’s wearing it forward and to one side is very 1930s, which reminds me of the way Tuppence Middleton as Helene in the recentish War and Peace was costumed very 1930s. Maybe it signifies more modern sexual mores? Maybe it just looks saucy. Sir Edward’s plaid waistcoat is not so modern, more 1830s.

In church, the priest gives a creepily sensual sermon based on how pretty all the girls are, “blooms” that will soon be “plucked”. Arthur Parker, however, wishes that people would allow him to be a lily of the field. Honestly, he may be my favorite character in this? Everyone else is just so serious and dramatic.

I REALLY like Miss Denham’s (Esther’s) white dress here. Regency productions are often unwilling to put characters that are meant to be attractive in the high-necked morning dress they should be wearing before dinner, but they are not doing that here and I approve.

The vibe in the room at Denham Park is “Crimson Peak”.

And again, NICE gothic-influenced gown and frill on Clara. Lady Denham is dressed like it’s 1785 while planning her pineapple-and-Miss-Lambe luncheon and she opens up the next scene by complaining about Sir Edward’s behavior (wasting his time on “conquests” rather than getting married) while dressed like the dowager countess of Grantham again. Ah well.

Okay, this is some very modern hair on Esther - it looks like Rita Hayworth’s or Veronica Lake’s in the 1940s - but let’s give them credit, she is shown en négligé, undressed, which is the only situation in which a woman’s hair should be down in a Regency show. Charlotte, take note! This kind of gown, very loose and low-waisted, was just worn to cover up the underwear and would not be taken outside.

(They ruin it a couple of scenes later where she tells the servant to allow Lord Babington to come in and see her like this, but ... she’s also telling him that her brother brushes her hair, so there’s A Lot going on.)

After Charlotte has a nice scene with Mr. Parker where she shares his interest in building New Sanditon (take that, Sidney; she’s not looking down her nose at him), he takes her out to see the actual building. She also meets young Mr. Stringer (left), the cheerful cutie who’s the son of the foreman, who’s immediately sweet to her. I love him! Sidney comes along, looking gloomy (in that black greatcoat, making quite a contrast with his colorful brother) and smoking with a long ivory holder, and she rushes to apologize to him. He of course throws the apology back in her face, so she throws his rudeness back in his. Nice.

Sidney is called from a boxing match where he’s fighting a shirtless opponent (gritty! sexy! Andrew Davies is showing us the REAL REGENCY!) to come to Georgiana Lambe, who won’t leave her room or, I think, get dressed. She’s rightfully not happy about this party of Lady Denham’s, which is about showing off the exotic pineapple and the exotic visitor together. (I can’t help but think, as Georgiana rails against Sidney for taking her away from her home - a mystery that I am intrigued by; what exactly is his connection to her family? It’s a Davies addition - about the West Indian servant standing in the corner. How much of a choice did she have to come to England, and what does she think about it?)

As the party starts, we get nice looks at the outfits:

This is a bad shot of Lady Denham, but honestly, I’m so tired of the shtick of costuming her like it’s the 1780s ... she’s even wearing a fancy whitework apron. Tired! Clara is of course actually up-to-date, and her waistline is nicely high - a lot of Regency productions have the waists just a couple of inches too low, while this one is snugged up as high as possible. The neckline does have some issues, though: it should be much shallower and nobody would have been wearing a filmy, skimpy fichu that’s open over the cleavage.

Georgiana comes in and stands out immediately in the brightest and most expensive-looking gown in the room, especially dominating Mrs. Griffiths’s demure and plain purple one. (Mrs. Griffiths has the slightly-too-low waistline I was complaining about; Georgiana’s is just right.)

The Beaufort sisters, who I will probably never screencap again, look appropriately insipid and pale next to her as well.

Clara and Esther are once again also dressed in an opposing way. Instead of the ambiguous grey this time, though, Clara’s outfit is mostly white with some dark decoration as she clears up Esther’s misunderstanding and admits to being an innocent victim of sexual abuse; Esther, undaunted and motivated by jealousy over her brother, is still in sexy red.

In the dining hall, Georgiana busts out some creole to make Lady Denham feel awkward, which is excellent. Sidney is a pain in the ass about it, which is hypocritical of him given his blatant rudeness at other times. Arthur loves it, which is why he’s awesome. Sir Edward then goes on to flirt extremely badly with her.

Sidney entreats Charlotte - whose sleeves are divinely puffed and gathered, by the way, although she is also afflicted with the dreaded Flimsy Fichu - to give him her opinions on the company, and she rightly rebuffs him as she knows he’s just going to tell her she’s awful for having critical thoughts.

Lady Denham then basically starts taunting Georgiana for being black and having a mother who was a slave, and then tries to play Charlotte and Georgiana off each other only for Charlotte to sympathize with G instead. She’s completely losing her head because Georgiana’s not playing along with the scheme to marry Sir Edward. When Georgiana fires back with a “we ain’t suited” about him, everyone is clearly on her side. A gleeful Arthur goes to cut her a piece of pineapple as a reward, and we find ...

Lady Denham is so upset about the whole thing (despite it being entirely her fault) that she threatens to pull her investment from Sanditon, which would ruin Tom. Poor man.

(cont’d)

#sanditon #austen #jane austen #regency #19th century #1810s

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calleo-bricriu · 5 years ago

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Why do I keep doing this?

It’s nearly over, there are fewer than 100 pages left in the horrid thing after this one.

((Oh also, these few chapter contain a hell of a lot of really casual racism mostly against Native Americans and whatever “half-breeds” are, because that’s not specified.))

Okay, chapter 18 starts with finding out that the stroke didn't kill Mother it did, of course, exactly what Mizpra wanted: Left her a mostly paralysed invalid.

Despite that, she's written as still being pretty mentally lucid, just not physically capable of doing much but being propped up in a chair facing a window. Now somehow she's being called "The mother of Leigh" instead of Mrs. Newcomber.

Anyway, she's staring out the window, occasionally being annoyed by the fact that her nurse is a "strange and harsh woman" and how she's a toy of Mizpra's now somehow.

It's also somehow "perverted" of Mizpra to let her mother reminisce about when she was younger but okay.

Watching birds is supposed to make one cry; I'm guessing mabye I watch birds incorrectly because, while interesting, I've never really felt any sort of urge to cry over them.

Mizpra evidently thinks, "partially paralysed from a stroke" means "also deaf" and is now always written shouting right into her mother's ear. Also, she was sick of her mother watching birds because "the mist will soon commence to fall" whatever that means.

Back to insulting Mizpra again, "With her energy, moral palsy, masculine effrontery, and unbridled control of a large fortune, she moved the men and women around her." He's writing that like it's a bad thing.

I mean, it'd be a lot easier to dislike her if he focused on the things she's done rather than the fact that the author just thinks she's a little too "masculine" because, really, by this point we know she stripped down a teenage girl in front of her class to berate her about wearing corsets, married a guy just because he knew how to use a typewriter, and planned her mother's stroke and had the thought of, "It'd be super inconvenient if she dies but whatever, I'll make it work if that happens." You know, legitimate reasons to dislike someone.

"There was not enough of sex instinct in her to enjoy being flattered as a woman," well, who the hell could blame her? Flatter her based on the abilities she's shown, none of which are remotely terrible (by modern standards at any rate).

The author doesn't seem to think highly of women as doctors either because the first one described is, "one of the big-footed, short-haired kind" you know, manly.

Oh, but, "a mild sort of fellow-feeling--not womanly--brought about business arrangements between Mizpra and the female physician."

This is such an exhausting book to read; no wonder so few copies still exist, even in reprint. Normally, I can’t get enough of getting my hands on and reading rare books that only have one or two copies still left anywhere but this? This one is a harsh reminder that some books may actually be better off eventually fading completely from anyone’s memory.

"The older inhabitants of the surrounding country had become interested in Mizpra. The Spaniards, Mexicans, half-breeds, and Indians, all bigoted and ignorant, were now singing her praises." I'm--pretty sure the only bigoted and ignorant one here is the author.

MOVING ON.

Oh look, someone brought her one of her Genius Brother's books: "Insanity in the Adolescent Caused by Religious Rites and Mysticism in the Catholic Church," by Leigh Newcomber, M.D.

There's also a typo in the book that the editor apparently missed, "It had been a distressing day for Mizpra, and she was ugly in mood, and agitated in feeelings."

Feeelings.

""I saw a pretty Indian girl to-day. I'll have as many as--" at this moment the blood rushed to her heavy cheeks and her hands and feet began to feel cold. She grasped the back of a chair to steady herself for a moment, then strode to the bed to throw herself down upon it."

Well, that came out of nowhere. Pun intended.

So now she's going to pretend she's Catholic and devote her time and money to teaching "the Indian and half-breed girls". I'm just going to assume she's moved beyond stabbing sleeping men with scarf pins and is moving on to--that.

Ordinarily, that wouldn't be all that off-putting sounding if not for the use of the term "half-breed" and girls. Girls--that often indicates that they're not adults.

Anyway, she gets a telegram presumably from Rev. Bald indicating he's ruined Leigh's life but, since I've read the previous chapters and the author is about as predictable as the tides, I'm going to assume Leigh sent the telegram and is planning a surprise visit.

Oh look, more casual racism: "An Indian lad, a protege of Father Francisco, arrived at the house with a note from that priest. He was a fine specimen of his race; lithe, bright-eyed, and cunning." He also doesn't like Mizpra, probably because she keeps calling people half-breeds and savages.

Wonderful! He even talks in a perfectly stereotypical racist manner, "Big bone squaw. Too much talk. Want chief."

So, she asks when "the woman" arrived at the priest's house, he answers, "Yes, bad squaw come."

Which makes her angry because he apparently said it in a defiant tone so she grabbed him and demands he explain why she's bad and if he doesn't she'll have him flogged.

I can't exactly parse the racist as hell way he's writing this kid but it seems something to do with an Indian who converts to Catholicism gets salvation?

So Mizpra slaps him because that's a rational reaction but then he keeps talking and I have no idea what the hell is going on, "Indian boy understand. He white squaw no Christ squaw; Indian boy no white papoose. He squaw, look out."

He leaves, no further explanation, time skp three days later from "Rev. Bald" who basically details what Bald had intended to do but ended up getting tag teamed by Leigh and a prostitute. So, definitely Leigh writing that letter. I mean it also said that Mops was poisoned (diphtheria, for the last. fucking. time. infects you; the bacteria can produce toxins, which are what can cause the range of symptoms, some of which can be fatal, so unless you're just injecting the produced C. diphtheriae toxins right into someone, you are not poisoning anyone by exposing them to diphtheria, you are infecting them and I know that seems like semantics but the author is a doctor and should know better than to think infect and poison are the same thing) and died.

Anyway, Mizpra believes the letter is from Rev. Bald, so I'm sure that'll end well for her.

"Mizpra had but one thought, one passion now; that was, to wallow in her perverted pleasures to the saturating point of satiety." All right.

Chapter 19 begins with "The reader has probably already surmised from the letter received by Mizpra that Bald had recovered."

In the sense that he wasn't dead, yeah, I guess.

Leigh told the hospital Bald was hit by a trolley car and Bald is just, "Well, since I can't remember what happened, that must be correct!"

So Leigh shows up the next day because Rev. Bald is his patient and the first thing the author does is write something creepy in the narrative, "Leigh now noticed a distinct refinement in Bald's features. he was pale, and the whilom sensuous lips had lost some of their grossness."

Who--thinks like that? So he sits there watching Bald sleep for awhile then leaves after leaving some magazines and "a basket of luscious fruit".

Weirdo.

Nurse starts in with some story about how Leigh lost his wealth or something, then Leigh shows up again and Bald immediately goes turncoat on Mizpra.

So Leigh decides that Mizpra is "undoubtedly mentally ill" and "he would see her placed where she could no longer do injury to herself o rothers."

And they’re headed to California; of course, Leigh had Bald write the telegram and letter to tell Mizpra her plan went off flawlessly.

Predictable writing.

Leigh insists the issue is that Mizpra is insane, not a criminal, and that she's "not responsible for her actions". I mean, mentally ill or not, she's still responsible for her own actions unless someone else is forcing her hand, which they are not. That's been made clear.

Only about 100 pages left, thank everything.

Now they're talking about one of the other sisters, the older one who married a lawyer. That turned into a rambling story about how the lawyer "misappropriated" funds and somehow that landed them under having to get an allowance from Mizpra.

Chapter 20 appears to be Leigh is Stressed and Wants a Drink.

Manages to get home without doing that and apparently Obera's only method of showing support is to just fling herself around and cry.

"Leigh went to work instantly to eliminate the poison which his faulty nervous system had allowed to accumulate in his body and thus produce a self-intoxication." ...what?

He calls Dr. Bell to come and write something to Bald and Leigh has to be whiny about it, "Well, I don't believe you or any other man can understand what I suffer."

Please stop being 13 at some point, Leigh, you are an adult.

Now he's relating his life to Poe's stories and needs to stop--but I guess this book is where the whole "psychic incubus" thing came from because he's talking about one now.

And that sort of drifted in to him rambling incessantly about Edgar Allen Poe and how Leigh is just like that, only with more friends and less good writing, I guess.

I might have added the last two things.

Dr. Bell insists on heading out to California with Bald and Leigh and that's the end of that chapter.

It was 85% Leigh rambling on about Edgar Allen Poe while saying very little about him and just sort of quoting random bits of his work.

No surprise the author of the book had a weird obsession with the same thing.

#books #hp rp #casual racism #old books #this is still the worst thing I've ever read #and not because it's shocking #because it's just so disjointed and poorly written #and the author is an idiot #it has a typo #it has a legitimate typo #I found a typo in a book from 1901 #and it immediately jumped out AS a typo because #feelings #is not ever spelled feeelings #typos

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sadheartsongs · 6 years ago

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the 1975 • a brief inquiry into online relationships

• the 1975: step into your skin, i’d rather jump in your bones. // it’s a lovely tradition that they start every one of their records with a self-titled song. which also happens to be the intro of their live shows. a few seconds that always (kinda) sum up the whole record.

• give yourself a try: like friends don’t lie and it all tastes the same in the dark. when your vinyl and coffee collection is a sign of the times. // the first song of that record that came out. the typical the 1975 sound, which feels like coming home but it sounds new and unknown as well. the lyrics are pretty personal pretty dark. i think we all have a lot we’d love to tell out 16-year olds... but we never told ourselves back then that it’s actually worth giving it a try, right? ‘and what would you say to your younger self? growing a beart’s quite hard and whiskey never starts to taste nice....’

• tootimetootimetootime: i swear that i only called her one time, maybe it was two times? i don’t think it was three times, can’t be more than four times. // there are so many things about this song, ohmygod. first of all the fact that they incuded ‘me too’ in the title. and have you even lived if you didn’t catch yourself at 3am in the morning singing the lyrics? the third release of this record and probably the most catchy one. i don’t even need to listen to this song to have an earworm again, haha. and i love how matty said in an interview that this song 'is not necessarily all autobiographical..’ good! and later he said he doesn’t care if tis song is gonna be a hit he only wants us fans to listen. well i guess both things are happening.

• how to draw / petrichor: love yourself like someone you love. don’t take one of my advice // ugh ‘love yourself like someone you love’ is one of the best advices i ever heard but what do i know. at the first listen i didn’t like the song that much, i don’t know. maybe it have to grow on me. but my electro-clubbing-loving heart instantly fell for the beat of this song. this is something i’d like to dance under neon lights with a drink in my hand and not caring about anything at all. oh, and ‘don’t let the internet ruin all of your time’ is another very good advice. surround yourself with good vibes only, online, too.

• love it if we made it: oh fuck your feelings, truth is only hearsay. we’re just left to decay. modernity has failed us. // this is my favorite the 1975 song ever. EVER. okay i said this with ‘somebody else’ from the last record and ‘chocolate’ from the first one buuuut whatever. i just love everything about this song. the beat the lyrics the whole vibe. how it sounds like an old song from the ninetees or something and still so new at the same time. this is the kind of song you need to turn up as loud as possible and it’s still not loud enough. there are references to lil peep and kanye. and i love the ‘modernity has failed us’ line so so much. i think if i’d have to describe this record, the whole band in just one song i’d choose this. sure there are a lot which also would be perfect for this cause but you know. fuck i’m dying to hear this live. announce european tour dates, pretty please. ugh.

matty said about this one at beats one radio: ‘it’s quite outward and it’s me kind of looking out. it’s an interesting one because there’s not a lot of context in a lot of the things that I say in that it’s direct quotes of people or their headlines I’ve read (...) it’s very objective though, this song. i think that’s one of the things i suppose i get to hide behind. a lot of the stuff that you could be upset about in the song, I never said in the first place. ‘

• be my mistake: i shouldn’t have called cause we shouldn’t speak. you do make me hard but she makes me weak // this is supposed to be about guilt and being with someone else to get over / forget the one you actually want i guess. maybe it’s about addiction. the mistake you make over and over again even though you know it’s so wrong. but sometimes you need to make mistakes to realize what you really want and need. this has kinda a therapeutic thing. i love the acoustic vibe of the song. it doesn’t need much to glow.

• sincerity is scary: why can’t we be friends if we are lovers? cause it always ends with us hating each other. // the fourth song that came out of this, the slowest one and a very deep one, again. i admit it had to grow on me, too. don’t know, the slow songs always take some time on me. ‘if i believe you’ from the last record still does. anyway. i’d love to listen to this at church. you know, the acoustic. that would sound breathtaking. ‘and irony is okay, i suppose, culture is to blame. you try and mask your pain in the most postmodern way.’ this is the most accurate description of the way everyone just put a facade on them which makes others feel like they’re okay nowadays ever. no one would survive without irony but why is everyone so scared of eing real for once?

• i like america & america likes me: i’m scared of dying. no gun required. my skin is desire, so fired. // maybe you wouldn’t expect a political song about gun usuage in america between all those songs and maybe that’s exact what we need at this point. matty said that this song is an hommage on the soundcloud rap - which is pretty big in america i guess - and he first wanted to release it (without or) just mumble lyrics but combining this with lyrics about the biggest problem america have - perfect. i guess this is one of the things that makes this band so special. every song has a deeper meaning, there’s not a single one which only fills a void. i‘m not a big fan of the soundcloud rap stuff and i’m still not friends with that song but it fits in the whole pretty good.

• the man who married a robot: you can tell me anything. i’m your best friend. anything you say to me will stay strictly between you and the internet // the whole song - which isn’t particulary a song - is spoken by the male version of siri. a monologue about a lonely man whose only friend is the internet. he lives in a lonely house. in a lonely world. it sounds so sad but this is actually more real than we can imagine i guess. there are a lot of lonely people in the world who sit alone at home daily with no one to talk. i’m pretty sure it won’t take long until the first human actually marries a robot, haha. this sounds so weird but you know the world we live in is so weird and nothing is impossible anymore... matty said he likes the idea of the next decade being about robots. sounds interesting, count me in.

• inside your mind: maybe you are dreaming that you’re in love with me. the only option left is look and see. // ‘it’s just the idea of sometimes wanting to know what your partner is thinking so much that you want to smash their head open to look.’ this song is inspired by the movie ‘gone girl’ (i love that movie! if you’ve seen it it makes sense i think) and this whole thing, the thought, the metaphor of this... is kinda morbid but i like that kind of stuff so... the slow beat of this song makes the whole thing even more intense. like you can almost feel the voice, the whole song crawling into you. wow. just wow.

• it’s not living (if it’s not with you): all i do is sit and drink without you. if i choose than i lose. distract my brain from the terrible news. it’s not living if it’s not without you. // what sounds like a love thing at first - you know, the whole ‘oh my god i can’t live without you’- thing... - is actually about mattys heroine addiction. drug addictions are maybe the even biggerl ove than a person ever could be, sadly. the vibe of the song is so happy and positive like you want to listen to it on a sunny day and sing along and if you listen to the lyrics it’s the complete opposite. he was in rehab for severe weeks and seems to be clean ever since. thank god.

i love how he tries to put the whole thing into songs - like he did on every record - and being open about it. everyone of us has their own truth and sooner or later we need to talk about it i guess.. it helps to see people as they really are. which is important. ‘the problem I have now is that this is my truth, and I feel like I can’t negotiate properly with the world if I can’t tell the truth.’

• surrounded by heads and bodies: she wears it like a dress, a post-traumatic mess // another one about his time in rehab. or better, about a girl he met there and instantly had a connection with. the title is inspired by a book and i guess that’s pretty much how you feel while being in rehab. but i have to admit when i read the title i kinda expected more from this song. shame on me, i know.

• mine: when people said it was raining all the time i see sunshine ‘cause i know that you are mine // god this line is one of the most beautiful love confessions ever, i’d cry if someone said something like this to me. the song has a pretty jazz vibe. this is something different. a song you’d like to hear in a old jazz bar in downtown new york with a huge glass of wine in one hand and the hand of your loved one in the other. (and i want to see matty in a suit performing this, haha.) nothing you can hear on repeat, but if you listen to it it gets you completely. completely smiling. and a bit sad.

• i couldn’t be more in love: maybe i’ll rely on all the things that made it right because i’d give you all the years of my life // another big song. with a slow and deep vibe which could be played in the movies. though it’s not a love song, according to matty. ‘it’s about what happens when people don’t care anymore.’ he sang the vocals the day before he went to rehab. it would’ve came out better after but this is what makes this song so special. it’s not perfect, the voice sounds so vunerable. hurt. hopeless. a song that physically hurts you when you listen to it but you just can’t stop.

• i always wanna die (sometimes): your memories are sceneries for things you said but never really meant // fuck, fuuuuuuuuck. this song always gets me no matter how many times i already listened to this it always feels like the first time. it also sounds like a song which exists since a a long time, like a song you’ve always known. another big one. a cinematic vibe. it’s a summary of the daily online life. the perfect last song for this album.

i’m following them since such a long time, i guess it was when ‘chocolate’ came out. wish it was earlier. and it makes me so happy to see how far they’ve come and how this whole thing grew bigger and bigger with each album. how many memories are made with the songs over the years. saw them live a few times - always mindblowing. you know i see a lot of concerts of famous bands and small indie ones and this and that but they have that kind of live show which leaves you kinda speechless, so many colors and lighs and beautiful effects and the songs and damn, this wasn’t what i wanted to say when i started the sentence haha. what i actually wanted to say was, that this album, even if you’re not listen to them that much (if someone is doing this) will make you feel like coming home after a long day when you sit down on your couch and pour the wine in the glass. they have their own kind of sound. probably nothing that hasn’t existed before but if you hear the songs you instantly know it’s a 1975 song. this album will make you smile and cry an sing along an think about your life and buy concert tickets because you NEED to see this live for at least once in your lifetie, i promise you. if you’re searching for a good soundtrack for your life, try the 1975.

#the 1975 #a brief inquiry into online relationships #review #alum #music #blog #personal #thoughts #matty healy #a lot of text #blabla #sadheartsongs

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10/04/2019 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 2:31-4:18, Colossians 1:1-17, Psalms 76:1-12, Proverbs 24:21-22

Today is the 4th day of October. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It is great to be here with you today as we continue our journey through the Scriptures this year. And as we transition into this new month, we've been doing a little bit of transition as we close and open new books, so we concluded the book of Isaiah and began the book of Jeremiah yesterday while at the same time concluding Paul's letter to the Philippians yesterday. So, we’ll continue our journey in Jeremiah but when we get to the New Testament portion of our reading, we’ll begin a new letter, Paul's letter to the Colossians, but first we're reading from the Christian Standard Bible. Jeremiah chapter 2 verse 31 through 4 verse 18 today.

Introduction to the book of Colossians:

Okay. So, as we just mentioned a little bit ago we’re entering another of Paul's letters today. This is the 12th book, although not all of the writings in the New Testaments are books per se. This is the 12th distinct different writing that we’re encountering in the New Testament and it’s written by the apostle Paul to the Colossians. So, this city, Colossae wasn't unfamiliar Paul. It was a city maybe a hundred miles from Ephesus. And Ephesus is a place that Paul spent a lot of time, several years. And archaeologists have found the ruins of ancient Colossae in the western part of what is now modern-day Turkey. But even though they’ve been identified, and this is true in lots of places in Israel as well, even though they’ve been…you know…there's been like some preliminary digging and research there hasn't been…like Colossae is not a ruin that you can go and get an interpreted visit to, but during Paul's life Colossae wasn't an abandoned ruin. It was a cultural stew, a lot of mingling of philosophical and religious ideas. And, so, a lot of that had kind of made its way as a part of the conversation into the Colossian church. And, so, Paul's letter was written as a response. And just like Ephesians and Philippians, the letters that we’ve just recently concluded, Colossians for the most part is considered to be another of Paul's letters that were written from prison in Rome while he was waiting…awaiting an audience…a trial before the Emperor. And this letter to the Colossians kind of…kind of breaks down into two sections. The first part of the letter is his doctrinal in nature. So, there are people who that come into the church who were teaching a form of angelic worship and other rituals. And Paul addressed this by basically reiterating that Jesus is supreme over everything, over all of creation. I mean, He wrote that the universe itself was created by and through Jesus and is sustained and continues to exist through His Lordship. So, he’s been pretty clear that worshiping lesser things, right? I mean, same story. Like we've been through the story so many times in the Bible and yet don't we find ourselves turning to so many other things for life. So, it’s still a problem that we deal with today. But then Paul also addressed the circumcised versus uncircumcised controversy that…well…it seems to show up in most of the letters to different…to differing degrees. And this issue would find its way to Colossae and as usual, Paul shared his views about the matter. So, we have the benefit…like we’re reading these letters in succession…we have the benefit of a collection of Paul's letters, so it allows us to see the different challenges and for that matter the different victories and encouragements of the early church because Paul's…well because the issues are common and Paul's writing individual letters to a lot of people where a lot of the same territory is covered. The thing is, even though we can see this being common in the early church, these challenges are still with us in one form or another. So, as we read Paul's letters, we can also experience growth and correction in our own lives, provided that we kinda understand the context of what's going on. So, understanding the Colossians was written by a man awaiting a life or death judgment, like the other prison letters, allow them to carry some weight, some gravity. Colossians is a magnificent testimony to the Lordship of Jesus in our lives and…and because of that Lordship the implications, the overwhelming reality of what that Lordship offers to humanity, to all who believe. And, so, we begin. Colossians chapter 1 verses 1 through 17 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and we thank You for bringing us into the conclusion of another week and we thank You for transitioning us this week into new territory, from Isaiah to Jeremiah, from Philippians to Colossians. Holy Spirit as we continue this territory through books of prophecy and these letters of the apostle Paul we ask that You would continue to be a lamp for our feet, a light to our path, that You would lead us on the narrow path that leads to life, that You would lead us into all truth as You promised. And, so plant these words that we’ve read deep into our lives today and may our hearts be fertile soil so that the fruit of the Spirit can grow freely. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, its the website, its where you find out what’s going on around here.

And one of the biggest things that we have ever offered, ever had to offer, one of the greatest resources that represents the Daily Audio Bible, probably the greatest resource that represents the Daily Audio Bible that I can even think of is what's going on around here...and it's got a name - The One Year Adventure with the God of Your Story. And I’ve talked about it for a couple of days. This is a…basically a written version of the kinds of things that we talk about every day here on the Daily Audio Bible as we reflect on what it is that we have read. And, so, I mean this was a desire probably showing up on my radar a decade ago, but not like a burning desire like this has gotta be done now, but it became that way and I talked all about that in the fireside chat a couple days ago. And once I started writing I thought, you know, this would be fairly…it’s gonna be time-consuming, but it's gonna be a breeze, but it wasn't a breeze. It was…it was hard-fought every single day because…just because you can say something doesn't mean you can write it and trying to go back and work through, you know, 13 years of what you’ve said for every single given day and find a path and then rework that so that it reads instead of something that you would listen to became very, very long project, 600 days of writing. And I don’t mean like 600 days like over the course of, you know, 10 years. I mean 600 days over the course of two years. So, pretty much writing every day for two years on this…on this project and I gave it my all. I mean, this is something that represents us, this is something that came from us, this is what we do here as a community every day. And, so, I gave it my best. And I mean, I can truly say, yes, what we do on a the Daily Audio Bible, I don't know why…I don't know why that the Lord has allowed us to be here doing this but I'm very, very grateful and I’ve been at this for like 5000 days now. So, I’ve seen that what God is doing through it is very very fruitful and I believe that that will be true of the God of Your Story as well because reading it in written form as well as hearing it with your ear…like this is very strong stuff for the person who's wanting to go through the Bible in a year, which is…which is what we do here at the Daily Audio Bible. So, as I’ve mentioned over the last couple of days it is a memorial to all that God has done in and through all of us as we’ve been a part of this community over the years. It represents us to the world and it is my prayer, my earnest prayer that everyone in this community will have it and that's a tedious little thing to say because it can very…be easily construed like I want everybody to have it because it's going to do something for me but it’ not. I have given myself to this project and I have given everything that we would sell through the Daily Audio Bible shop, everything is being given back to this community. Like, I am in this all the way because I am so grateful to even be here. So, the God of Your Story I think is a treasure, at least in terms of the Daily Audio Bible and the Daily Audio Bible community but is also a resource that is directly supporting the efforts of keeping this going every single day. And, so, it's my prayer that everyone who’s listening to me can have a copy of this. It’s available at dailyaudiobible.com in the Daily Audio Bible shop. You can go to godofyourstory.com and it will take you there. As I mentioned yesterday, my other latest two books, Reframe and Sneezing Jesus, those are available for five dollars each, as many of them as you want while supplies last when you get the God of Your Story. And this is…this is as inexpensive as we’ll ever be able to make these resources. This is what it costs. I pray you will take advantage of that.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that dailyaudiobible.com as well. There's a link on the homepage or there’s a button in the app in the upper right-hand corner and it just says, “Give” or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

As always, we’re a community, we’re just talking about this, we’re a community and yes we go through the Scriptures together every day, it’s the rhythm of our lives and we talk about it but we also pray for one another and it's…it’s another one of those things where you look at it and go, “how did this happen?” And yet brothers and sisters who are all over the world who may never, ever, ever share space like in the same room in this life reach out in Spirit and pray for one another and actually care about the stories. And, so, if you’re shouldering burdens that you shouldn’t be carrying by yourself, then reach out. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can reach out as easily as just pushing the Hotline button, the little red button up at the top. Start talking. Or if you prefer to call the…I was gonna say the mailing address…the phone number is 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good evening family this is Michaela from Gloucester in the UK and it is Monday the 30th of September and I want to say a big thank you to Larry because…because you were lifting up and the lady from the UK who is going through a work issue and because I’m a lady in the UK going through a work issue. I kind of took that prayer for myself. But thank you for your prayers for Abby in London. And then thank you so much for your prayers about Christians in Europe and also for Brexit in the UK because I’ve been praying my hair out, scratching my head not knowing what to do with the whole situation and the only thing I have been able to do is pray and we do value your prayers so much. And…and yeah…Abby from London, if I’ve got your name wrong, I apologize but because I’ve been going through my own work issue I’ve…all…many of us if not all of us have been lifting you up in prayer and you are not alone and God is with you and He will get you through this. And I have a praise report myself. I had a big meeting this morning. So, that’s why Larry, your…your prayers really hit the spot because I needed that encouragement this morning and it went well, best possible outcome really. I still have a job and there’s still a lot of things I need to be working on, but I’ve got that opportunity. And, yes, and also another praise report. You guys prayed for a Bible study I was leading quite a few years ago now and one of the girls has been…she’s grown-up now…I think about 18, 19 now, but she’s been coming along to church regularly on a Sunday. So, thank you so much for your prayers for her. I hope you have a good day. Bye.

Hi this is Rachel. I wanted to pray for Carl. Dear God, please help Carl to feel Your love and to feel like he is important and that his life has value. Please help him to find his place and to be able to turn his life around and become, you know, more stable and on his feet. Please bless him financially, you know, let him know that You hear his prayers and that You are a true living God and not an empty, you know, an empty idol or something, that You do love him and You do care about him and You do answer prayer. So, please I want to lift Carl up. Please get rid of his depression, you know, just take it away completely and give him new life and a new Spirit and…and turn things around for him. And Carl I just want to let you know that there are, you know, listeners from the Daily Audio Bible that…that do pray, we do here your prayers. Sometimes they’re not aired after the…the readings and they’re aired in the community prayer, but we are still here and we’re listening and we’re praying for you.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family this is B calling from Dublin. I’m a two-year listener I think on my third year now actually. I’ve never really called in as often as I would’ve loved to. And, so, this is maybe my third time of calling in. I just felt the need to first of all give a shout out and prayers to the people who call in so regularly and pray for us all, people like Biola from Maryland, Blind Tony, Victoria Soldier, Slave of Jesus, Pastor Gene. You know, I love you and I thank you for all the prayers that you pray for the community for individuals. I just want to encourage you that your labor of love has not gone unnoticed by God and I just feel in my Spirit this morning and this is why I’m calling, to pray over your lives an anointing of the ease, that you have an anointing of the ease over many projects and things and tasks that you may have to accomplish in the next couple of days, that you will receive peace from God and peace of God wherever you go and indeed in your lives nothing shall be missing, nothing shall be broken. Also, overall, Brian and Jill, I pray the same for you. You are the orchestrator of all of us coming together at this Global Campfire as you like to call it. So, thank you so much for answering the call of God, for obeying to put up the Daily Audio Bible. And thank you for allowing us to follow you as you follow Christ. Finally, I just wanted to say to everyone else, if I’ve not mentioned you it’s not because your less important, I just, you know, don’t…don’t remember all the names. But if you do have a connection to this family and you’ve fed from this family I believe you should give to this family…

Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Prophetic Intercessor from North Carolina. I haven’t called in such a long time, but I’m determined to finish out the year strong with DAB. I was calling specifically to lift up caregivers. I was talking to an aunt of mine caring for her sister, which is another aunt and she was so weary and so tired and so downtrodden. And then this morning when I listened to the prayer…prayers on October 1st there was another lady who was talking about taking care of her 94-year-old mother. So, I just want to lift up caregivers this morning. Father in the name of Jesus I come before you to lift up every caregiver in the Daily Audio Bible community. I bring them before you now God and I ask that you would endow them with supernatural strength and comfort on today. God, I ask that the angels would be dispatched into their homes God, to breath a fresh wind of air through that home Lord that would bring encouragement, that would bring peace. God, in the name of Jesus I break off every spirit of heaviness of weariness of depression and oppression. And God, I pray that you would exchange that for your peace, exchange it for your strength, exchange it for your comfort. And where they’ve been failing in the hearts oh God, I pray that you would renew them Lord for you said in your word that they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall walk and not grow weary, they shall run and not faint. And God and I pull down eagles wings this morning to attach to their backside God. Send angels into their room God to breathe healing upon them, not only upon their loved ones but upon them God. I come against every manner of sickness and disease and I apply the stripes of Jesus Christ and I pray that the healing balm of Gilead would touch you today and touch your loved one from the crown of their heads to the soles of their feet. Be encouraged. Know that God is the lifter of her head and the strength of your days and He is your dwelling place in all generations. May the…

Hi guys this is Gerta calling from Germany again. I wanted to share a way way beautiful story with you. Today I went to the __. I took my bike and __ station and I fixed it there with a chain that it holds and nobody can take. And on the other side as I waited for the __ I saw a little man going down and doing something on a screw and I went over and asked him what he’s doing there. And he said, “I’ve seen it a few times.” And he’s all by himself. He really really really must be fixing it for me. And I thought that’s so lovely. And the issue was I knew the holder for the protection of the chain over the bike was one screw was lose and I thought, where do I get this screw and how it can affect said. And, so, I want to say thank you Jesus. God is taking care little little small things in unexpected moments where you don’t really think on it and I don’t really believe that somebody’s interested and still know how to fix it or because I didn’t want to buy 30 of 50 screw only to fix one. And, so, thinking about where do I get i? God takes care of little things. Trust Him in moments we don’t expect Him. So, okay thanks again for the program. I enjoyed it with the poems from Blind Tony and stay blessed. So, thank you. Have a wonderful time speak to you soon. Bye. Thanks, Brian for everything

Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Megan from California just wanted to call and to thank you all for your prayers for my marriage. I’ve been just so blown away. I’m blessed. It’s still just an ongoing battle and struggle but I really feel the presence of the Lord and I just so appreciate you all lifting me up. I wanted to share an incredible story of the Lord’s love despite a very difficult destructive marriage. On the 27th of September my husband called me while I was listening to the Daily Audio Bible and as you know if you’re listening on the app it interrupts the DAB. And I took the call and it was really damaging conversation and really destructive. And, so, when the call ended it picked right back up. And September 27th, you know, we were reading through the passage in Ephesians of wives submitting to their husbands and husbands loving their wives and Brian’s commentary, I felt like he was speaking to me and it was just so encouraging when he says, you know why wives, we talked about husband’s being Jesus to their wives and then he says wives, you know, let’s think about sacrifice. I wrote it down. His commentary was so good. That’s what Jesus did for you. Not every woman in this world but you…you His desire and love compelled Him forward. He loved you that much. That’s how much you are loved and that’s how you are to submit to your husbands as you would to the Lord which does not mean you are supposed to be abused. That’s not how Jesus treats you. That’s not how you’re supposed to be treated. That’s not God’s intention for you. What’s being revealed here is that if your husband is loving you as Christ loved the church then you have a have to respond to that respectfully as you would to Jesus. And I just am so thankful for Brian’s commentary, for this app, and how does just this community’s love…

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