#claudia deserves to deck of all of them

[clestialintent]

louis being apathetic to armand patronising and chastising claudia AND THEN not believing her when she said armand threatened her. louis i love you but you deserve hell for that! picked another one over her!!

[scarlet-feast]

okay so i can't stop thinking about this post that i made about iwtv/titanic, so here's more brainrot (and polyamory)~

loumand (or loustat, but yknow my blog) traveling and posing as business partners since it's 1912, hanging out in the first class parlors all day and out on the decks at night. they have money but don't necessarily like schmoozing with the rest of the wealthy. lestat (or armand if we're vice versa) is there too and there's past tension between them (but they deserve some polyamory so do with that what you will). i'm not sure where claudia would fit but she's included because she's my daughter

daniel takes on jack's role and he's the handsome and charming third class lad who immediately catches loumand's eye. shenanigans ensue. let your imagination run wild. when the ship sinks and daniel's dying in the freezing cold water, armand turns him to save him. walk with me-

[murfpersonalblog]

Weaker/smaller people can operate on sheer adrenaline/fear/righteous indignation/anger/protective instincts to try defending themselves and their loved ones. Protecting your "built-like-a-bird" daughter from almost having her neck snapped by her MUCH stronger father is not being abusive, mutually or otherwise--it's being a PARENT.

I bet the show won't pull back at all, not if Lestat's monologue during the Trial is anything to go by; or Loustat's reunion, or what Rolin & Sam have repeatedly said about Claudia's memory haunting Les in S3. Les outright admitted that he tried to kill Louis. Lou already knew that, and still took him back in Ep6--when Les wasn't even (sincerely) apologetic!--and caught hell for it from Claudia & Daniel.

There's PLENTY of abuse victims who go back to their spouses--not just cuz they CAN'T leave, but cuz they don't WANT to leave. Cuz they DO love them, and they DO forgive them--regardless if that forgiveness is earned or not. I already mentioned Ray Rice cauight on camera knocking his wife TF out, and how she was talking big up in his face, just like Lou talked big to Les--right before he DECKED her with EASE and dragged out that elevator; just like Louis when Les dragged him across the courtyard by his effing jawbone & dropped him 1000 miles in the air. And guess what? Ray Rice's wife STILL married him afterwards, and AFAIK they're still married, and his wife keeps telling ppl to mind their effing business cuz she doesn't have to explain/justify her choice.

YES. 😂 Les realized that he'd grossly underestimated Claudia's intelligence, and the lengths Lou'd go to for Claudia--their daughter. Even so far as slitting Les' throat. He's PROUD of Claudia ("I see the best of my vampiric self in her"; "evil of my evil"), and he already said Lou was justified & and that he didn't deserve him (hence: letting Armand take his man).

AMC is developing Les's character--that's the whole point of TVC: watching his progression & redemption from the P.O.S. he was in IWTV, to becoming AR's hero & messianic savior in Blood Communion. We need to see him put in the work--coming to terms with how much of a trash husband he was to Lou, and how much of a deadbeat dad he was to Claudia. His backstory in TVL will show Les' misogyny towards his mother Gabrielle; and his insensitivity towards Nicki--Les taking accountability for everyone he loved but still FAILED. Les can be sympathetic and STILL be a crappy son, boyfriend, husband & father. "To have a think.... Why I do what I do."

Ray Rices got all kinds of therapy & talked thru his issues; and his relationship w/ his wife is apparently STRONGER & BETTER for it.

Eff them being vampires; that was Santiago's cop-out.

AMC is conveying a REAL MESSAGE about REAL LIFE. I've said a billion times that the whole point of GOTHIC HORROR is to hold a mirror to HUMANS so we can see the monster/beast WITHIN US.

Cuz this ish is REAL--people REALLY go through these things--and have to either OVERCOME their past trauma, or SUCCUMB to it and repeat the same vicious cycles of violence & abuse in the future. Loustat is endgame cuz Louis and Lestat OVERCOME. They learn how to be BETTER people--not necessarily "good" people, ofc, but they learn how to treat each other; and by realizing how bad the effed over Claudia (X X X), they try to do right by their next kids, Viktor and especially Rose.

Lestat tried to KILL Claudia, then threatened LOUIS with murder.

Les literally says that if Lou tries to fight him, "it will end in Louis' death"--LESTAT will murder Louis. As I've said 1000 times about Lestat as the Matador (meaning KILLER).

LOUIS' life is the one being threatened here. And he's in VERY serious danger, since Lestat has a century of advanced powers over Louis, plus Louis had been starving himself for the past 7 years. Lestat knew that once he got serious, he'd BREAK Louis for good.

Why on earth would Louis STOP fighting? Lestat was tryna kill their daughter AND him--out of petty spiteful jealousy and domineering Stockholm on steroids wife-in-the-freezer BS: if I can't have him, no one can--till DEATH do us part!

And why is it Lou's responsibility to lay down & take Les's behavior?

Just like I said--Lou's expected to just sit back and take being abused, insulted, harassed, ridiculed, demeaned & gaslit; but the second he stands up for himself (or for his daughter)? Omfg this wild animal's out of control; "disreputable, cold, violent!" He could've (read: should've) stopped at some point! Why didn't he walk away!?

Do y'all honestly believe that Lou "walking away" would've solved ANYTHING that night? Les asked over & over & over if Lou was gonna LEAVE him. Les was tryna keep Lou in that house--and he succeeded, crippling him & shattering every bone in his effing body. He BROKE Louis, cuz he was convinced that he'd already LOST Louis--to Claudia. Hence: Lestat tryna kill her! Hence: the fight! LES started it, and best believe HE ended it! 💀

I'm a Lestat fan, too. I've been reading TVC since the 90s, and AMC's only made me love these books & characters more & more. The whole point of personal journeys and character growth is that it's a PROCESS. Lestat IS a vampiric monster, yes--and he's also an abusive husband & father. He FINALLY apologized during the Trial & reunion; but how will he do BETTER going forward; to become a vampire WORTHY of Louis' love & forgiveness--unworthy in NOLA, unworthy in Paris; disregard!

I treat AMC's adaptation of these characters the way Gothic Horror as a genre treats monsters: as a WARNING; recognizing that they ARE human, reflecting the ugliness within all of US, IRL. In so doing, hopefully we can then do better by ourselves and each other; rather than pretending that things aren't a problem and ignoring/handwaving aside all the things that make us uncomfortable--or ruin the fantasy of the dreamy romantic fun hot guy we're in love with. Cuz he might just be a monster in disguise out to kill you, your kids, or anyone around you.

Seven years of compromise. Denial. It all gave way.

[cosmicjoke]

You know, it always stayed with me, when I first read “The Vampire Lestat”, the end, when Lestat reveals what happened to him in Paris with Armand, and reading it once again, I’m reminded of why it never left me.  It’s maybe the most heartbreaking thing in the whole book, and that’s saying a lot, considering all the tragedies of Lestat’s life up to that point.  Armand’s cruelty to Lestat here is breathtaking, the way he manipulates him, and then imprisons and starves him in order to place him in a desperate enough state to give testimony against Claudia and Louis, when already Lestat was in such horrifyingly dire straits.  Making it all the more heartbreaking is the way Lestat holds no ill will or grudge towards either Claudia or Louis for what was done, how he even feels he deserved what they did to him, and the way he had no intention of revenge, or even knowledge of their presence in Paris, but how Armand uses him to exact his own revenge for Lestat’s rejection, a thing Lestat never even conceived, and a thing even if he had understood, he couldn’t have given to Armand anyway.  It’s just so awful, and sad beyond words, the final blow being when Armand pushes Lestat from the roof of the tower.  God, it’s brutal.

And the sadness of it is really driven home all the more when so many years later, Armand finds Lestat again, and Lestat is rotting away, cut off so completely from life and the world and humanity, with no real will to live, and we see the tragedy doubled in Armand’s own loneliness and despair, the way he’s wrought his own ruin too, deserted by Louis, his duplicity and manipulation and assault of before rendering any kind of genuine reconciliation with Lestat impossible.  The way he tries one last time to win Lestat’s love and companionship, only he uses the same methods of deceit as always, conjuring illusions to win the love he craves.  And it’s far too late, too much bad history between them, too many mistakes made, and Lestat is too far gone at that point for it to have ever worked.

I think what really drives these scenes home in their tragedy too is the kind of juxtaposition of Lestat and Armand, the way their roles have in a way reversed, with Armand decked out in the modern finery of the 20th century, moving among the modern world, while Lestat lies in ruin beneath the foundations of a rotted out relic of a house from the 18th century, clothed in rags and lost in despair and physical degradation.  But both of them are totally alone still, cut off and outcast in their own ways.  Armand’s strange obsession with Lestat, continuing to hang about near to him, and Lestat’s consuming despair at last driving him under the earth.  It’s just such a powerful and poignant and heartbreaking study of loss and aloneness and what it means to be truly outcast.  I felt so deeply for both of them while reading this, even with the horror I felt at Armand’s cruelty. 

I think the paragraph that got me the hardest was this:

“The earth was holding me.  Living things slithered through its thick and moist clods against my dried flesh.  And I thought if I ever do rise again, if I ever see even one small patch of the night sky full of stars, I will never never do terrible things.  I will never slay innocents.  Even when I hunted the weak, it was the hopeless and the dying I took, I swear it was.  I will never never work the Dark Trick again.  I will just... you know, be the “continual awareness” for no purpose, no purpose at all.”

It speaks so hauntingly and with such sadness to Lestat’s true tragedy.  That he feels so lost in the world as this being with no purpose, no use, no point. 

His one and only consolation in life was this idea that he could give his life meaning through doing good in the world, and he’s left now an immortal who can give his eternal life no meaning at all.

Ah, I weep.

How can one not feel for Lestat?  How can one ever accuse him of being a shallow or frivolous person?  I’ll never know.  He’s anything but.

[laurent--stpierre]

THIS WILL END IN TEARS [2 / 4]

All right, so this is the start of a series of self paras that all tie into each other. They’re not being posted in chronological order, so make sure to take note of the dates they happened. The information in this self para will spread through the Organization quickly. Enjoy being able to react to it, and be a little bit smug to Johnathan. 

Date: August 6th, 2019. Warnings: Typical mob fare. It’s really long tho, so apologies.

“I’m going to level with you, I was looking to make this a bit more dramatic…”

The piece of shit hunched over in front of him didn’t respond.

“It’s not that I don’t care enough about you to put the effort in. It just turns out we picked the one sprawling estate without a fucking basement. Can you believe it?”

As the Frenchman took an exaggerated drag on his cigarette, he glanced around the room for a minute. It really was a world away from the basement he’d been forced to endure; decked out from floor to ceiling in palatial gold that could’ve only been by request of Aurélie. This prick must have thought himself so lucky to have ended up here. It didn’t matter to Laurent, though. Whilst this place mightn’t have had the same looming reputation the Russian torture chamber did, the former Commandant was more than content to make up for its shortcomings with his own hands.

When the man he addressed still didn’t respond, he could feel himself losing patience.

It was no fun if they didn’t play along.

“Come on, now. Did nobody ever tell you it’s rude to ignore your host?” Laurent asked, finally resorting to kicking at the leg of his captive’s chair as he blew smoke in his direction. “If you’re pretending to be unconscious so you don’t have to talk to me, I’m going to be offended.”

“You French cunts really do love the sound of your own voices, don’t you?”

As the man sighed, he appeared to deflate along with it.

“That’s more like it,” Laurent greeted, loudly enough that it visibly startled the Brit. As the Frenchman clapped his hands together in mock jubilation, the man finally looked up at his tormentor through his swollen eyes with a glare so evil, if looks could kill, Laurent would’ve been dead on the floor in a heartbeat. “I personally love the sound of my own voice, but don’t you go stereotyping us all, now. That’s racist.”

“What the fuck do you want, Laurent?”

It seemed an odd question to ask, under the circumstances. Did he even want to know?

“I just want a nice, friendly, productive conversation. How does that sound?”

Plucking this man off the streets had taken more planning than he cared to admit, but the boss had been adamant that this time, the biggest thorn in their side would pay the price for his sins. What happened with Théo had hit them all hard; they were, after all, an organization so used to absolute power that to be limited in this new city was a difficult situation for them to stomach. Whilst they hadn’t been able to intervene when it came to influencing the Met Police, however, they still had just enough eyes inside to know that a certain somebody had paid Théo a visit.

Laurent was sure that he hadn’t seen fire like that in her eyes since Versailles.

It was no secret that Westminster’s Commandant and Aurélie were close. Laurent reasoned that it was the only reason he’d gotten as far as he had in the first place. But for this to be the reason she finally snapped? For Johnathan’s unannounced visit whilst her friend was unattended to be the thing that pushed her over the edge? Unless there was something she wasn’t sharing—and as his short time as head of London, he’d already learned it was better not to ask—he was baffled by the escalation.

That didn’t mean they weren’t all happy to be finally making some moves, however.

Aurélie had been vague but absolute in her orders: Johnathan Parsons was to be reminded that despite what his ego might’ve told him, his actions did have consequences.

Johnathan Parsons was to suffer for all the times he had not suffered before.

The easiest way to get to the brute of a man would’ve been his child, and anybody who’d said the thought hadn’t immediately crossed their mind was a liar. No, they weren’t the Russians, and they tried to keep family off limits as best they could, but this was Parsons. Extreme measures were necessary. Of course, given that she was just about to bring a third into the world, and despite the fact she didn’t doubt they would stoop as low when it came to her, Aurélie had vehemently prohibited any violence against his daughter.

It’d taken slightly more grovelling on his part to spare Jessica Reyes what would’ve no doubt been a painful end. Aurélie hadn’t seemed pleased about that—she’d followed it up with a comment that made him wonder just how closely she was keeping an eye on him—but he had been insistent enough that eventually she’d got bored of arguing. Laurent didn’t regret it; partly because she reminded him of Claudia, but mostly because Johnathan reminded him of himself. The situation was not her fault, and she didn’t deserve to suffer for it.

Eventually, they had settled on the closest person that remained.

“And what exactly do you want to talk about?”

Laurent snorted. Where should they begin?

“I want to talk about everything, Jai. I want to talk about your boss. I want to talk about why one of my people was attacked by the Russians. I want to talk about Théodore Chaussard being behind bars. I want to talk about your business in Tower Hamlets. I want to talk about you slipping me Lara Rutherford’s number to make this go a little easier for you.”

It was his turn to scoff this time.

“No.”

For someone who was such a raging piece of shit, it was almost hard to believe that Johnathan could have any real friends at all. When it had become apparent back in Porto Velho that Jai Dalal was not only his right hand man, but also his most trusted confidant, however, the target on his back grew exponentially with every antagonistic move his best friend made. Jessica and Sarah might not have been ideal candidates, but a man who had committed just as many himself—or been passive to those his boss had in the meantime—was just as deserving of the pain as Parsons was.

“To which part? Don’t say Lara…”

“What the fuck was St. Clair thinking when she sent you here, huh? Her way of saying London is just a joke to the French, by any chance? How does someone like you make it to head of the city?”

If Laurent hadn’t already spent months asking himself those same questions to the point of absolute insensitivity, he might’ve taken the comment to heart. Instead:

“Fucked my way to the top.”

“I—” Jai started, but instead ejected yet another hefty sigh.

“Let me guess, you did the same thing? Johnny boy looks like the type…”

“So you don’t do basements. What, you and your dumb fucking comments like Chinese water torture are the new way of trying to break people?”

“I can send Varden back in, if you’d prefer?”

There was real beauty in seeing fear flash behind eyes that were trying so hard to hide it.

Jai said nothing.

“How about we bring someone else into the mix, instead? Maybe if there’s another person here for you to converse with, I won’t annoy you so much.”

It didn’t take long to tap out a message to his friends in the adjoining room.

“See, you’re the headliner, Jai, but we managed to pick ourselves up a little bonus prize whilst we were out scouting tonight.”

A few silent moments passed in which Laurent contemplated lightning another cigarette, before his action was interrupted by the sound of the dining room door swinging open. Two of his men flanked the hooded figure of a woman; it seemed an excessive entourage, given that she appeared far too injured to even think about fighting back. There was no struggle as they dragged her over, and dumped her square at Laurent’s feet.

It only took a quick once over to realise that the arm she was cradling had been so badly broken, it was visible through the skin. The silent weeping became more obvious as Sylvain and Jean walked away again, as did the realisation that they hadn’t restrained her because they didn’t need to.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t anybody you know,” Laurent assured, like he gave a solitary fuck, leaning forward to take a careful handful of the hood. “This is Ivanna.”

Laurent didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected her to look worse than Jai did.

He was wrong.

It was a shame it’d come to this, really, because he’d seen her just before Varden and Daniel had been let loose. The woman had beautiful brown eyes, and features so feminine and delicate that it seemed impossible she was a fucking Russian. If she’d been walking down the street, with those same killer legs that were now twisted beneath her in an uncomfortable heap, she would’ve turned his head in a heartbeat. But now? Laurent didn’t doubt that it would take extensive amounts of surgery to give her back any semblance of…well, anything human in definition.

There was so much blood.

Aviv Kasyanenko sure could pick them.

The corner of his mouth turned upward slightly as he glanced down at her hands. The left ring finger was missing as a special fuck you from Daniel, no doubt.

“It’s okay,” Laurent said in a hushed whisper, as though comforting a child, reaching forward slightly to brush against her hair. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

It didn’t surprise him that nothing more than a strangled sob followed.

“You’re here because I want to talk to you, okay? Nothing else. The more you can help me out here, the less likely it is I send you back to them. I really don’t want to do that, Ivanna, but I’m going to need your help.” Sighing out through his nose, Laurent looked down at the dumb fucking bitch. It was a sight so pathetic he was finding it remarkably difficult not to visually cringe. Might’ve made that feigned sympathy a little less convincing, though… “How about we get you up off that floor and into a chair, huh? You can sit in my seat.”

Luckily enough, Jai had either slipped back into unconsciousness, or had just learned how to behave, because the idiot didn’t speak a word as the Frenchman slowly hoisted the pretzel into the chair. It seemed impossible, but she almost looked more uncomfortable now she was seated. Maybe he’d find a second to feel bad about it later. Until then, and now that he was without his own chair, he slowly crouched so that he was face to face with her.

“Is that better?”

Even though he knew it wasn’t, it seemed as though she’d nodded because she was scared not to.

“Thank you…”

“Did you hear that, Jai?” Laurent gasped, turning his head quickly to glance at the Indian. “That’s what it sounds like to have manners. You could learn a lot from the Russian, here.”

Silence.

Prick.

“Unfortunately, he’s not too chatty, Ivanna, but he’s going to help us with this conversation we’re going to have, is that all right?”

The brunette nodded stiffly, and his warm smile seemed to have comforted her somewhat, because for the first time since she’d entered the room, she finally looked up at him. Laurent immediately wished she hadn’t. They were as badly damaged as the rest of her. As his own gaze travelled down to the hands she cradled in her lap, he slowly took a hold of the one which wasn’t missing a finger or attached to a compound fracture. It felt like ice. As he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, he couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he still had that bottle of hand sanitizer tucked away in his jacket pocket…

“The first thing I need to ask you is when did you get here? When did you come to London?”

The interrogation proved to be an arduous process. Most of her answers were quiet, stuttered, or forced through the sound of what could’ve easily been her choking on her own blood. Jai seemed to have no understanding as to why he was present, and that amused Laurent even more than the bitch before him who genuinely believed that he was going to help her if she was honest. The Frenchman alternated between holding her hand and gently stroking her hair as she answered the basic questions about the Russians, where they were set up, whether she’d come with Aviv, and who else had followed her out to the city.

Ivanna bared all because she was scared.

Because she was not a mobster, and because she just wanted the pain to stop.

Laurent didn’t feel bad for her when she started to cry. All he could think about was how much Claudia must’ve been hurting when the Russians had done the same thing to her.

It wasn’t until he finally got to the most important question of all that Jai would learn why the Frenchman hadn’t conducted this discussion in another room.

“Why did the Russians come to London, Ivanna? Did Aviv tell you?”

When her eyebrows pulled into a confused frown, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the Russians could’ve headed to any city they liked. Why pick London?”

There were other things he’d wanted to ask; perhaps, he could’ve even phrased that more subtly. Unfortunately, it seemed as though her strength was fading by the minute, and as her head lolled back uncomfortably—like a child trying to fight sleep—he quickly moved his hand up to help her. The tears had started to well again. It was almost as though she knew that her answer would condemn her family, even though he was sure she didn’t realise quite how much.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, bringing her head to rest against his shoulder. Blood on his Hugo motherfucking Boss. Unreal. “This is the last thing I need to know, and then you can go, all right?”

“It was what they agreed.”

“What who agreed?”

Laurent spared a glance at Jai.

The man was a professional. There was no way on God’s green Earth the French would’ve been able to get the answers out of him, no matter how long he was left alone with Laurent. What seemed unlikely, however, was that he would be able to stop himself from reacting to somebody weaker spilling everything right in front of him. Ivanna might not have been the most reliable source in the world, but if he could get the back up of a reaction from Jai, then her words would surely hold more weight than that of a woman trying to save her own life.

Not that she seemed intelligent enough to lie.

“I don’t kn—” It sounded as though she was really struggling, now. If she didn’t hurry the fuck up, he might miss out on the confirmation all together. “I don’t know everything. Aviv doesn’t tell me.”

“Who agreed on what, Ivanna?”

“The Rutherfords, when they asked for help in Porto…”

In a split second, it felt like all of the air had been sucked from the room.

Of all the cancerous things he was expecting might leave her mouth, that was not one of them.

Porto? They were in fucking Porto?

“What do you mean? What help did the Rutherfords ask for in Porto Velho?”

“They needed help. Help. The hotel. If we helped with the hotel, they said we could come here…”

If he hadn’t been so stunned by the words that had just left her dumb fucking mouth, he might’ve made a solid attempt at ripping her head from her shoulders. The Russians had been in Porto Velho this whole fucking time, and it had gone unnoticed? Unpunished? Was the hotel she was referring to Versailles? It seemed pretty fucking unlikely they’d enlist Russian help to work on PR for the Chelsea fucking Royal… Laurent could feel every ounce of anger he’d felt about that whole cluster fuck—even if his pain had come at the hands of someone else—flood back in an instant. Aurélie had been stabbed. Alessia was dead.

“You stupid fucking cunt.”

The outburst was a solid reminder that Jai was still in the room, because for a minute there, lost in an absolute flood of wrath, Laurent had forgotten he’d existed.

Whilst he was fully expecting this to go his way—to get solid confirmation that it had, indeed, been the Rutherfords who had invited the Russians to London—he had not expected their desperate collusion to go back so far. For it to have been the Russians who had orchestrated the attack on their hotel, and not the British family they had been blaming for years. Fuck, they should’ve known… They might’ve had the money and the influence, but to attack the heads of two powerful crime families so boldly? It was out there. Too fucking out there.

The fucking Russians.

“Do you mean Versailles?”

It was impossible to keep himself from shaking. Laurent had long ago given up the gentle hand against her head for fear of crushing her skull before she could finish.

“She means Empire. The Russians helped us with funding for Empire.”

That particular bluff might’ve landed better if Aurélie didn’t have Amir, the actual fucking investor, wrapped around her little finger.

“The Russians help at Versailles, and the Rutherfords let some of us move to Haringey. It was the deal. I just wanted a fresh start. We just wanted to be anywhere but Launceston…”

“You people will literally say anything to drag us down,” Jai scoffed.

Even though he was gearing up to shout again, Laurent’s hand had already found its way to the cool metal of his gun. It did nothing physically to soothe the fact he felt like he was on fire, but the deafening sound of the point-blank shot—the sight of Jai slumping back as soon as the bullet smashed through his skull—was satisfying in ways he could only hope to relive with Johnathan. Laurent stared at the carcass as though he expected it to speak up again. Get fucking cocky now, you prick. Ivanna was now in fits of sobs so loud he could hardly hear himself think. Still, his hand held firmly onto his weapon, and he wondered whether he should turn around and shove the thing into her noisy fucking mouth.

“Wasn’t he helpful, Ivanna?”

“You said you weren’t going to hurt me…”

The sound of the door opening, Sylvain and Dan bursting through the door to see what was happening a second later, did little to distract him from the woman in front of him.

“I never break a promise.”

Her pathetic relief was the cherry on the top of the dead Jai sundae.

“But that man over there?” Laurent said quietly, lifting a hand to gesture toward the men with a smile. “This is Daniel. Did Aviv ever mention somebody named Daniel to you? Maybe Noa?”

The way that she seemed to freeze in an instant suggested yes. It hadn’t taken a bullet to drain the life from her; just a boyfriend who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and the couple of brain cells it took to add two and two together.

“Aviv took some things that belonged to Noa. Wedding and engagement rings. He almost took their baby’s life, too, did you know that?”

Laurent had thought her face couldn’t possibly look even worse than it had done post-beating, but as it contorted into the ugliest fucking crying face he’d seen since Sofia Kurylenko, he realised that he’d been wrong. This was definitely worse. Dan could have dibs on the physical suffering, but Laurent was glad to be the one to make her suffer without having to life a fucking finger.

He would enjoy thinking about it for weeks to come.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ivanna,” he said, standing up straight and slipping his gun back into the holster. “But Dan? I think Dan is probably going to hurt you a lot.”

[behindthescenepress]

Punk In Drublic at PNE Amphitheater in Vancouver

by Claudia Wyler

It’s been just over a year since my last music festival, and I was literally counting down the days in anticipation for PUNK IN DRUBLIC.  The two headliners Bad Religion and NOFX were bands that I not only grew up listening to, but that still make regular appearances on my playlists. Anti-Flag has been another favourite of mine for a few years, and a band that I have seen before and love to photograph. The Real Mckenzies are a Vancouver favourite and always put on a great show, as does Chixdiggit, but my most anticipated show of the day was the opening act- The Last Gang.   

While everyone was standing in the epically long beer lines attempting to sample one of the 40 different types of locally crafted beer on the other side of the PNE Amphitheatre, I gathered up as many friends as I could find to drag them over to the stage.  I did not want to miss catching this amazing female-led Punk band out of Los Angelas. This trio has a ton of catchy songs that many in the crowd were singing along to.  My favourites and ones to definitely check out if you haven’t heard this band before are ‘Identity,’ ‘Secret Sounds’ and ‘Believe in the Poet.’ Despite having only discovered this band a few weeks back when looking to see who the opening acts were for Punk in Drublic, The Last Gang has solidified a place in my go-to car playlist.  They definitely deserved to have a way larger turn out for their set, but it was HOT and well … craft beer.  

So, let’s talk Craft Beer… and lines. The festival sold tickets with tokens that you could then redeem in your sample size Punk in Drublic cup. However, the Craft Beer Festival was only open for 3 hours for general admission and for 4 hours with a VIP pass. It seems like plenty of time to, but I do not believe the organizers expected the turn out they got. I stood in line for 40 minutes before giving up, and I ended up not using any of my tickets.   

I did end up missing the beginning Chixdiggit’s performance due to beer chaos but managed to capture the last part of their set.  I had never heard of this Calgary based band, and I was pleasantly surprised.  They seem to have a large local following as the crowds doubled from what they were for the opening act.  

Anti-Flag has always been known for their politically charged lyrics and activism.  What has always struck a chord for me is that they don’t just talk about it, they are actually involved in making a difference.  With their ever-growing fan base, maybe they are making a difference. If anything, they are bringing issues to light, which is vital in our current political climate.   Anti-Flag shows are always high energy and full speed from start to finish.  The mosh pit is not always the safest place to be, especially loaded with camera gear, but a girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do to get the shot- especially when Chris closes out the show by singing from within the middle of the Mosh Pit! 

As the sun continued to beat down on the crowds, I noticed a few things, one being the vibe. It’s not often Vancouver sees a festival dedicated to Punk and everyone there was so happy to be there with their ‘tribes.’  Large friend groups could be seen throughout the day enjoying music, beer, and friendships- new and old.   Conversations were had in the long beer lines with total strangers, and the sense of comradery amongst everyone was seen all day long.  It was hot. There were no water fountains, and the lines to get drinks were ridiculous the whole day, but no one seemed frustrated or really seemed to care.  It was a day filled with strangers throwing out compliments, high fives, and hugs when needed.  It was an all-hands-on-deck day with no one going down if a Punk Rocker could help it.  The mantra of Punk never dies was loud and true.  

The Real McKenzies are a Vancouver based Celtic punk band that belts out traditional Scottish songs with a punk-influenced sound. The crowd was intense, the circle pit even more intense, yet everyone always had a smile on their face. With magnificent bagpipes and high kicks in a kilt, nothing was left on stage by The Real Mckenzies during their latest Vancouver performance.

As the sun began to set, the gorgeous mountain backdrop lit up behind the stage as Bad Religion prepared to get the beer-fueled crowd into a frenzy. Forty years and this band is still a powerhouse on stage with frontman Greg’s vocals not missing a single beat.

Highly anticipated crowd favourites NOFX took the stage shortly after 7pm.   Frontman Fat Mike pranced onto the stage wearing a short burgundy dress while Richard O’brien’s ‘Time Warp’ played and proceeded to dance around with his bandmates while making witty banter back and forth. It’s been 16 years since I’ve seen NOFX live and nothing has changed.  Ongoing pranks, witty alcohol-fueled banter and some confusion as the night progressed as to what song they were actually playing, none of it mattered, it’s a NOFX show and precisely what all their fans have come to love and expect from their shows.   

NOFX

Bad Religion

The Real McKenzies

Anti-Flag

Chixdiggit

The Last Gang

Crowd Shots

[thetwelvecaesars]

What would your tarot card deck be like?

YES! YES!!! Anon, you have MADE MY DAY!!! Okay, give me a minute to stop spazzing out enough to tell you what I would want. *Takes a deep breath and digs into the masses of papers to find the tarot deck idea* 

Okay! I got it! I found it! 

Now, let’s start with the major arcana:

The Fool - Emperor Claudius

The Magician - Augustus 

The High Priestess - Livia Drusilla

The Empress - One of Julius Caesar’s wives. I honestly don’t know enough about them to select one off the top of my head. I will be back to this.

The Emperor - Julius Caesar. Duh.

The Hierophant - The God, Jupiter. 

The Lovers - Julia Flavia and Titus Flavius Sabinus III - I was going to put Emperor Titus here in an older draft, but I think those two fit better. One has to note duality in the imagery of the tarot after all.

The Chariot - Germanicus  - Behind him are his loyal legions.

Strength - Agrippina the Elder - This card fits her SO well, it’s crazy. And she deserves this card. I picture her caring for the young Gaius Caesar in his little uniform she made him.

The Hermit - Seneca - Because the hermit is a wise old man.

Wheel of Fortune - Caligula (Gaius Caesar) - Because he really was such a wild card. No one knew what he was going to do next and that’s why this card fits him.

Justice - Drusus and Nero Germanicus - I know this card has one person, usually, but these two deserve divine justice.

The Hanged Man - Sejanus

Death - Nero - Because he’s not completely bad, but people see him as this. But he also brought about change. He was the last of the Julio-Claudians.

Temperance - Vespasian - Even though he was a penny-pincher, he did wait patiently for the right moment during the civil war.

The Devil - Domitian and Julia Flavia - Yes, she appears twice in this deck, but the Lovers and the Devil are inverts of each other.

The Tower - Tiberius - But this time it would be people being thrown off a cliff.

The Star - Julia Livllia

The Moon - Agrippina the Younger

The Sun - Britannicus - Because he’s the happiest person I could think of for this card. (Geez, Rome is TRAGIC man.)

Judgement - Galba - Because he knew it was his duty to oppose Nero.

The World - The Personification of Rome

Now, for the Minor Arcana made of the Pentacles, Wands, Cups and Swords.

I won’t go through every card- even though I want to. But each set tells a different story about Rome. Or whatever. 

Pentacles: Tells the story of Augustus. His rise to power, the peace he created and maintained. 

Page: Gaius and Lucius (Agrippa’s sons)

Knight: Agrippa

Queen: Livia

King: Augustus (or Octavian)

(I KNOW they appear more than once in a deck, but this is a story, damn it!)

Swords: Tells the story of Caligula and the house of Germanicus. It’s such a tragic story- really. (And I have a few specific cards to note.)

4 of Swords - Death of Drusus Germanicus

6 - Gaius leaving Capri for Rome

8 - Julia Livila in exile

9 - Agrippina the Younger

10 - Death of Gaius Caesar

Page: Germellus (Tiberius’ son.)

Knight: Cassius (The wrong one, of course.)

Queen: Caesonia (I was thinking Julia Drusilla fits here, but she really doesn’t my mind.)

King: Caligula

Wands: The conquest of Vespasian in the Civil War and his family. 

10 of wands: Vespasian sweeping the streets of Rome.

Page: Vespasian’s daughter, Domitilla (I think that’s how you spell her name)

Knight: Titus - Because he really is.

Queen: I am tempted to say, bag of money, but… it should be Caenis, his wife.

King: Vespasian

Cups: This is the story of Nero and his golden house. Because it seems so full of life and yet…is a problem at the same time. 

8 of Cups - The Burning of Rome and Nero walking away.

Page: Claudia Augusta (Nero’s daughter)

Knight: Tengellius

Queen: Poppaea Sabina

King: Nero

I could write out all of the minor Arcana cards in detail, but this is already a long list. I might do that next though. But this is what’s in my head as an idea for a tarot deck! Note, some of this WILL change, but this the rough idea. Also, the suits will stay the same kind of item. It just fits better and it’s confusing when people change them. I want this to be an easy to read, but deep deck. Because each card has a piece of history attached to it. I know that Julia Drusilla hasn’t made the deck yet, but I am sure I fit her in there somewhere. I think she would be in many of the sword cards, though.

Anyhow, this is my idea of a deck and if any artist wants a hand at it, please let me know first!

Thanks!

[jackieisgran]

April -May

April and First half of May

 April was two Easters and Bud working three weeks in a row.  SK and I took a short trip to visit her Great Grandmother Corinna. 

 There was a lot of pollen and algae growth to clean up on porches, decks, pool, and stairs.  I decided I needed to change my decor on the porch and the decks.  The idea I had for the porch did not eventually work but I was able to remove the cabinet holding the TV since the 13 year old TV that lived outdoors on the screened porch finally bit the dust.   We did remove some pool area furniture and mess. Gabriel came and took a load to the dump.    We installed the flat screen TV from our bedroom on the  porch. I recycled a tablecloth and pillows that I removed from the living room last fall so it has a new look. The shelving I intended to use did not look as good as the ones i had previously used.  So they went away and the old ones came back. The plants finally were able to come to live on the porch and replaced the cabinet space with a wall of green. 

 I purchased a new rug for the deck and new cushions for the chairs.  The first set did not work so I exchanged them for a better match. I also got some new lounge chair cushions for the pool.  I did not get this area done until May because the April weather was so wet the tree cutters could not get in to cut the trees around the pool. So many leaves last fall so maybe it will be easier this fall with some of the trees gone and others trimmed.   

Bud worked the first week of May.  With the renters gone and an appointment set with the  storm shutter guys.  I had been working since January to get an appointment with someone to check the shutter that stopped working in January so I  left on Wednesday the second at 4AM to drive down.  I had planed to leave on the first at a more reasonable time but because of the April rainy season, SK’s Fine Art Festival performance was postponed until the first.  It was a nice evening, but meant an earlier leaving time for Wednesday. I made great time.  The area rugs were showing some traffic so I scheduled a rug  and carpet cleaning for after I left. I shopped for new chairs and umbrellas and the basics to stock the kitchen for the summer.  

The meeting with the shutter people went well.  They declared that my 25 year old shutter was probably dead. The  cost of repair and replace the motor.was $1000.  A new one  was $3000.  I was opting for the new one.  But the bad news was that it would not be installed until October which is the later part of hurricane season.   So at the last minute, I asked how much they charged an hour and decided I wanted them to check to see if it was possible to get it to work temporarily , and to the surprise of all of us,  they were able to make it work.  I still decided I did not want to trust the 25 year old motor to continue to work for the whole hurricane season.  Therefore, they are installing a new one in October or November.

Bud flew in on Saturday morning and we stayed until Monday around 10 AM to head home.    We had Tuesday and Wednesday at home to pack and get the house ready to be gone another two weeks. We even managed to have a birthday dinner for SK on those two days.  

On Thursday, we should have left at 4AM but decided to go on the tail end of the rush hour. We stopped in Greenville to take a break and eat lunch. So far things had gone well.   We left Greenville and stopped again in Gaffney for strawberries, and gas.  This is where things went bad.   There was a major wreck that had the traffic backed up.  When that cleared we had to fight the traffic through the longest stretch of construction ever. We  were several  hours late getting to Mothers.  

We are here two weeks while The Sister goes on a well deserved vacation to the beach.  We had three days that we stayed 24/7 and gave the caregivers a small break.  Monday we were ready to get out awhile  when Miss Earlene arrived . We took a quick trip to Raleigh, we had not been there for awhile.  We had lunch and headed home.

Tuesday was adventure day.We went south to Siler City and Pittsboro.  to see the country and had lunch at The Belted Goat in Fearrington Village. Interesting place. We described it as a Serenbee with a Peachtree City Bubble. The food was great and the conversations we overheard gave us a lot to giggle about on the way back.

 Tuesday, I got the email with the contract for the shutter that had to be signed and the permit application that had to be signed and notarizes. This made Wednesday the date to get all the paper work done and sent off so we would be sure to get into the line to be an October installation.  The first bank stop did not work out since the lady who did the notarizing was off that day.  Victoria  called another branch and the notarized was out to lunch and would be back at 2;30. So we rushed back to make some copies of the check. Then Bud stayed with Mother while I went to Graham to get the paper work notarized and mailed.. Elizabeth and Claudia were great to work with and even noted that our business account had not been upgraded like our personal account and took care of the upgrade when I was there.  She also called later to check on some things with me. 

For the next two days we will be the full time caregivers as Miss Earlene is going to the beach too.  We will have the weekend days off as Miss Crystal will come to stay with mother during the day.  Then we will be in charge 24/7 for Monday and Tuesday. .  Bud is staying with Mother while I have lunch with my best friend of middle school days.  Then Miss Earlene comes back on Wednesday Then on Wednesday Bud and I will have lunch with Faye and Darrell Holt.   Thursday we will be trying to find all our stuff and get it all together for going home Friday afternoon. We are working on a plan for  a different route for getting to Gaffney and hope we won’t be sitting in traffic.