#dominique the amazonian

[roxsannel]

Christmas Kisses: A Zodiac Shifters Anthology by Amy Lee Burgess, Dominique Eastwick, Jennifer Hilt, Rosalie Redd, Bethany Shaw and Melissa Snark.

This is a collection of short stories where romance in the holiday season is the name of the game, but nothing is ever smooth sailing in the shifter communities and these stories show you all about how christmas time and love can conquer all, with something for everyone within.

Under The Mistletoe by Amy Lee Burgess is alll about the christmas party that the dragon shifters of Zodiac Mountain throw each year, it is always the same, nobody talks to anyone if they are not in the same clan, they separate themselves off and just ignore everyone else, but this year will be different because a witch named Marley has a plan to get them talking, all it needs is some mistletoe, but will it work, or will everyone come to blows at her audacity, especially her friend Emily and her forbidden love Orlando?

Through The Blizzard by Dominique Eastwick is centered around Oakley, a snow leopard shifter who was exiled from his pack, even by his mate, but he has built up his life how he wants it, despite all of that, by helping those from all the Zodiac packs in their time of need, up in the mountains of Wyoming. Meanwhile, his mate Nova has spent her life in aa naive haze, but when her mate is framed for a crime, she believes in his guilt, that is until she finds out what really happened when a new Prime of the pack asks her to go bring him home, but will she be able to brave the storm which is brewing in the mountains and bring her mate home, or will he turn his back on her, like she did to him?

What A Scottish Shifter Wants by Jennifer Hilt is set in Icy Cap, Alaska where Angus McGowan, a commitment phobic wolf shifter is travelling, but when he meets Bree, an Amazonian biologist, they indulge in a no strings attached fling, however, he isn't happy about her not using contraception and being willing to raise a child if one is produced, so when he leaves, she gives him a protection amulet. As he continues his travels, he encounters a witch who lets her jealously loose, cursing Angus and causing him to lose his memory and amulet, but will be ever find Bree again, or will he be lost to the curse forever?

All I Want For Christmas by Bethany Shaw is all about Santiago Ferdinand, a phoenix shifter PI and his employee Cassidy Clark, he hired her for her skills, but kept her on because of his attraction, even forgiving her when she is a little late for work, but she is also attracted to him, but when they let their feelings air, Cassidy realises that she might be a little in over her head when a group of Lycanthropes he has been investigating attack her, he knows she need to know the truth, but can she handle it, or will she run from him?

A Very Foxy Christmas by Melissa Snark is about two theives and a heist which goes wrong, but it also goes a little right with plenty of humour and plenty of steamy action, this is a saucy holiday romance.

[heleneplays]

Dominique taking care of Sick!Helene

I haven't expressed how much I love this brush like. HONESTLY. I love texture :) BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, I LOVE THEM BEING GAY AND DOING CRIMES <3

---

The Fic: [Part 1] [Part 2]

Other ROs: [Abdul] [Cleo] [Dominique] [Esme] [María] [Rémy] [Zhu]

[jamesshawgames]

Character Profile: Dominique

I’ve been thinking a lot about Dominique lately, partly because I’ve been writing them (a nice little hint there for people curious about what’s coming up at the start of Book 3!) I decided that it was time for them to get a character profile - but this one is going to have to be a little different to the previous profiles. So much of Dominique’s life story is still mysterious, and for now I want to keep it that way, although you will be learning a lot more about them by the end of the trilogy of course! So below is a limited profile of Dominique, only including info that’s already out there in the first and second books. There are a lot of gaps in that bio. I hope you’ll enjoy seeing some of those gaps get filled in in the new book!

Character Profile: “Dominique”

Name: “Dominique”, aka “The Amazonian”

Date of Birth: ?

Place of Birth: ?

Appearance:

Bio:

Europe’s most notorious museum thief, the so-called Amazonian takes their name from their preferred method of dealing with museum security: they carry a blow-pipe, of the type favored by some of the indigenous peoples of the Amazon basin, from which they fire darts coated in strong sedative drugs. Wanted in almost every country in Europe, the Amazonian has, since 1931, been embarrassing Europe’s leading museums by robbing them of their treasures, apparently on order from rich clients. They only hit the most prestigious of museums, the ones that are supposedly unbreakable, and they commit their heists with such style and flair that it’s clear that they enjoy showing off. Institutions that they have hit include the British Museum and the National Gallery in London, the Louvre in Paris, the Pergamon Museum in Berlin, the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, the Vatican Museums in Rome and the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. Police are still unsure exactly how clients contact the Amazonian to arrange the thefts. As for their real identity, they have no solid leads. Only one real clue exists. Once, on the night of a break-in at the National Gallery in London, when a Titian painting of the Adoration of the Magi was stolen by the Amazonian, a vagrant in Trafalgar Square thought that he saw a “female figure” darting across the rooftops. After a London tabloid gleefully broke this exclusive, the paper’s editor, on getting home one night, found that somebody had broken into his bedroom and left him a note, patiently explaining that the Amazonian was not, as his paper had reported, a “lady”, and thanking him to please use “they” pronouns in future.

In 1936, the Amazonian was almost caught when the American adventurer-archaeologist Dr. Spillane interrupted them mid-heist at the British Museum and chased them through the Underground network. However, they managed to slip away. Two years later, the Amazonian found themselves working alongside their almost-captor Spillane, on a heist at the Doge’s Palace in Venice. It was then that they told Spillane to call them “Dominique”, although it’s pretty clear that this isn’t their real name.

When WW2 breaks out, they seem to stop robbing museums and disappear. Where have they gone? What are they doing? Who are they really, and where did they come from?

Nobody knows. Yet…

[maximoffscarletsimp]

I love everything about this post. Especially that fan

x

[itsblosseybitch]

Well Dunne by Fred Schruers (from Rolling Stone magazine, November 7th, 1985)

The star of ‘After Hours’ knows how to produce a lot of laughs

The day Warner Bros. previewed After Hours at its Burbank, California, studio for a randomly selected public - “People who may have been coming out of Wendy’s on La Cinega” is how Griffin Dunne puts it - leading man Dunne and his co-producer, Amy Robinson, joined a line of cars stop-and-going through the gates to the studio. As he tells about it now, a month later, he mimes the part of a power-buzzed security man clutching a walkie-talkie: “Get these people out of there...Can’t let the audience see you, sir...We’re at Building C, walking the producer and the star over now...” 

They hid Griffin in the projection booth till the lights went down. Then he sneaked in and listened. Very happily. “They laughed. Went crazy. You couldn’t hear the dialogue.”

A lot of his best lines got lost in the hubbub then, no? Dunne lets his swivel chair rock down from a perilous two-legged tilt and gives the serious, almost beady-eyed take meant to remind you what an alarmingly hostile world we live in: “Let that be the most serious of my problems.”

In fact, Dunne has hardly any problems just now that stand much chance of knocking him from the embrace of the bitch goddess Success. Costing roughly $4 million and described by director Martin Scorsese as “an experimental, psychological farce,” After Hours took only one September weekend to show it would clamber out of cult status and be recognized as something the studio could platform into a nice little hit. 

As a producer, then, the thirty-year-old Dunne is at speed. The grudging credit the industry gave him for co-producing Chilly Scenes of Winter, at age twenty-three, and added to with 1982′s Baby, It’s You (OP NOTE: This is an error. Should be 1983), must now give way to admiration. As an actor, he’s got many people besides the studio guards referring to him as an arriving star. He’s onscreen in virtually every frame in After Hours, and his highly expressive face, which seems to be hastily if handsomely thrown together, accented with dark eyebrows and riveting brown eyes, is undeniably crucial to our comic appreciation of the very odd goings-on during the protagonist’s interminable night among the sexually flawed denizens of artsy SoHo. Whether recoiling from the kinky come-ons of Rosanna Arquette’s Marcy and Linda Fiorentino’s Kiki, feeling mousetrapped by Teri Garr’s Julie, marked for slaughter by Catherine O’Hara’s Gail or imprisoned by Verna Bloom’s June, he’s a catalog of nearly nuanced lab-rat reflexes. 

The key to Dunne’s performance is clearly reaction, as Amy Robinson points out: “It was imperative in this movie that the character be very likable. Otherwise, why would you want to spend this hour and a half going through such trials and tribulations?”

Adam Brooks, who directed him in this year’s unkindly received Almost You, judges Griffin to be just the right everyman for this opening up in Scorsese’s work. “He’s alone, like other Scorsese heroes, but not obsessed. He’s more like us - a child of computers and television. Lonely, but not driven.”

“A lot of people say Griffin looks like Dudley Moore, but I think he’s a lot more like Jack Benny - his comedy works when he’s surrounded by a lot of crazy people, crazy events. He’s charming, endearing. What’s great about After Hours is that the charm gets defeated at every point and ends up being a kind of vanity - so you’ve got this nicely mounting hysteria.”

The Joseph Minion script for After Hours - dispatched to Griffin after being handed to Amy Robinson by Minion’s film-school professor, director Dusan Makavejec - caught the actor’s fancy on page 2. He could sink right into the role of Paul Hackett, a lonely and bored word processor who meets an enticing girl at a coffee shop. “I understood the speech patterns, the other characters and the tension. And the situation of a horrible date. Of being with somebody, trapped in a situation. I’m looking around the room, going ‘How do I get out of here? And how the hell did I get in here?’ Which is a pretty funny basis for a movie.”

“My only criterion for directing Griffin,” says Scorsese, “was ‘I don’t believe you. For all you know, you’re pleading for your life. If I don’t believe you, I’m not gonna print this take, and we’ll just continue till I believe you.’ He had to get in touch with something in here, he had to plead for his life. And that was - fun.”

Thomas Griffin Dunne was born June 8th, 1955, in New York City, the first of three children of Dominick and Ellen (known as Lenny). His father was a Connecticut-bred, Williams-educated stage manager en route to producer status; his mother was an actress and model raised in Nogales, Arizona, by her Mexican mother and her cattle-rancher father, Thomas Griffin. Dominick worked on everything from Howdy Doody to Playhouse 90, and when colleague Martin Manulis moved to Los Angeles in 1956, Dominick took his work and family went as well. 

They settled in then quaint Beverly Hills (”Not the Iranian gun boutiques they’ve got now,” grumbles Griffin), where Griffin hung out with other showbiz whelps, like Carrie Fisher, until heading east to a prestigious old prep school. One unfortunately whimsical day, under the influence of a notorious Moby Grape album cover, he extended his middle finger toward the camera in the football-team photo. By chance, two years later, the headmaster glanced at the photo; the punishment was five swats. 

(OP NOTE: I actually contacted Fay School about this photo, and they claimed they didn’t have it. In hindsight, I should have tried a different approach because, to quote Mandy-Rice Davies, “Well they would, wouldn’t they?”)

Next stop was a less stodgy boys school in Colorado, where he won a plum role in The Zoo Story as a sophomore and became “Joe Theater” on campus. By senior year, he was preparing for his greatest performance, as Iago in Othello. The evening before the big day, Griffin and a friend were in a dorm room contentedly smoking dope when the door swung open. They smothered the joint just in time to look up at the school’s “one badass” faculty member, who asked, “What’s that smell?” “There was the longest pause,” recalls Griffin. “Finally, I said ‘What smell?’ “ The smoke, he says, “just poured right out - mocked me.”

Griffin, sent packing, hitchhiked home quite certain that his proper trade was acting. He got a bit part in Medical Story as an intern hooking up an I.V. line amid much medical palaver, but they changed the diagnosis on him at the last minute. Frantically trying to memorize the new bit during a five-minute break, he burned his lip trying to light a cigarette and went before the camera lisping, sweating, shaking, and bereft of words. Actress Linda Purl took pity and wrote his lines on her forearm, where the I.V. was to go. “It was such a classy move,” he says.

Still, deciding he’d better learn the trade from scratch, Griffin migrated to New York and joined the legion of struggling actors. He was catastrophically nervous at auditions: when he went before the stern Uta Hagen to apply for her acting class, he “went up” - completely forgot the text he’d prepared from The Catcher In The Rye. So he improvised, giving the story that morning’s trip downtown as Holden Caulfield might tell it. She was alternately rapt and chuckling, and signed him on. But he was soon shown to be the dunce of a class full of working actors. Finally, one day after he set a prop door up backward for a solo exercise, then frenziedly tried to shove it the wrong way through the jamb, she took him aside and told him he was simply not ready for her class. But he begged her one more chance, and the next day he skipped forward several exercises to do an imaginary phone call. He wowed Hagen and the class and went on from there.

As he built off-Broadway credits, Dunne lived in various shabby apartments and worked odd jobs, notably, selling candy and popcorn at Radio City Music Hall, where he was stung by the indifference of the Amazonian Rockettes: “They certainly had no time for a guy in a polyester zip-up baby-blue jacket with a cadet hat and shoes two sizes too big that had belonged to an usher who died of old age.”

He met Amy Robinson, who had gone from Scorsese’s Mean Streets to searching for work, at a party. With a third actor, Mark Metcalf, they became upstart movie producers by optioning Ann Beattie’s Chilly Scenes of Winter. Joan Micklin Silver came in as screenwriter and director, and they got studio financing to make a cult prestige item. It marked the beginning of a time of happy overwork for Griffin. He came back from shooting a TV film called The Wall in Poland (opposite Rosanna Arquette) to do the play Coming Attractions, which he then left to do John Landis’ film An American Werewolf in London.

He had come back to work full-time on producing Baby, It’s You when horrible news came: his sister, Dominique, a promising young actress, was strangled to death at the age of twenty-two by her boyfriend, a chef at Ma Maison. 

“It brought all of us who were left together for every moment for a year between what happened and the verdict,” says Dominick Dunne. “It’s never for a moment not a part of you. The point is, you have to go on, you have to cope, to live your life. He threw himself into his work.”

Baby, It’s You was completed that year and dedicated to his sister. Then, even as he helped with script revisions to After Hours, Griffin was before the cameras in Adam Brooks’ Almost You. It’s about a couple suffering from the young man’s restlessness, and though Dunne and Brooke Adams agreed to do it while they were very much a couple, by the time it got financing, they were just friends. “I guess you could say they had a lot to work with,” says Brooks. “but that never interfered with the production.”

Griffin’s been seeing New York actress Ellen Barkin lately; she was on his arm for the New York premiere of the film and afterward was a proud but not proprietary presence as he accepted congratulations well into the night from a buzzing crowd of friends at a downtown restaurant. He was due to head cross-country for promotional chores, but he’s got further plans for his unusually hyphenated career. He and Amy Robinson have optioned the hit play The Foreigner, written by the late Larry Shue. And after the rigors of making After Hours on a nocturnal schedule, Griffin is very happy to have the phone plugged back in and the shades up. 

(OP NOTE: As I mentioned in the transcript for the American Film article, The Foreigner never materialized as a feature film, though Robin Williams was attached at one point. That’s all the information I have about that at the moment.)

“I noticed that Griffin is the kind of guy who gets around a lot, parties a lot,” says Scorsese, “and I knew the hardest part of his job was sustaining the anxiety for eight weeks of shooting.” The director pauses for a grin that demands to be called devilish. “So I told him, ‘No sex for eight weeks. We’ve got careers on the line here. I don’t want you up at night talking, wasting your time and your precious bodily fluids.’

“Really, the idea was to contain him and keep him in this night world for eight weeks, ‘cause his performance depended on anxiety, and if he was satisfied, he would never be able to get that.”

Dunne, reminded later of the challenge, tips back his chair and grins to himself. “Aw, that was easy to live up to,” he says, then waits a beat to settle into the deadpan expression that is such a comic weapon for him. “Did you ever try to get a date a six-thirty in the morning?”

[sondraakakitty]

This makeup look was inspired by a YouTube video from Kelechi Mgbemena using oroducts from all of my February #beautysubscriptionboxes; IPSY, IPSY Plus, Birchbox, Allure Beauty Box and PlaybySephora. YouTube video will be up in a couple days. Today's makeup look. Products listed below Primer: MILK Makeup Hydro Grip Foundation: Juvia's Place Velvet Matte Aruba + Ibiza Powder Contour - BH Cosmetics 6 Color Blush + Contour Palette Bronzer - Too Faced Chocolate Soleil Concealer - Kevyn Aucoin Sensual Skin Enhancer SX11 + NARS Radiant Creamy in Praline Powders - KatVonD LockIt setting powder in translucent + Laura Mercier medium/deep powder & Sascha Buttercup Brows - KatVonD Super brow pomade in medium brown + brow Struck Dimension Powder in dark brown Brows - Benefit Precisely My Brow in 3.5 Eye primer - Laura Mercier in Wheat Blush - Too Faced Peach My Cheeks melting powder in "Ginger Peach" & Tarte Amazonian Clay 12-hr blush in "Party Dress" Bronzer - YCCollection Matte Bronzer in Caramello Eyes - Chella Hello Beautiful quad & Dominique Cosmetics Palette Liners - Inglot gel liner in black Mascara - Lancome CILS Booster XL & Marcelle Xtension Plus Curl Lips - MAC Cork liner & Pat McGrath astral vinyl gloss in Bronze Highlighter - Wander Beauty Wandress Glow in After Hours Setting Spray - Glow Recipe Watermelon Glow Ultra Fine Mist + MAC Fix+ in White Tea Refresh Spray - Glow Recipe Watermelon Glow Ultra Fine Mist Lashes - LillyLashes in Miami #fiercesociety, #ballinonabudget, #eyeshadowpalette, #browgame, #wakeup2slay, #inssta_makeup, #igstorygems, #beautytips, #makeuplover, #KittySpeaks, #woc, #browngirlfriendly, #slayed, #lifeofanartist, #bloggerlife, #ontheblog, #mua, #makeuphoarder, #motd, #fotd #melaninmakeup #lillylashes Melaninmakeupdaily https://www.instagram.com/p/B9AsXjKpScJ/?igshid=dv25pjbakap7

[wartremovaltips0]

Beauty Tips For Women

Wedding Makeup Tutorial | PatrickStarrr

Happy Wedding!! If you are getting married…congratulations! This is a classic glam wedding makeup tutorial on my friend Christen Dominique! Subscribe to see more tutorials like this!

xoxo PatrickStarrr

Hair by https://www.instagram.com/princeangelll/?hl=en Robes by https://www.instagram.com/arikasato/?hl=en Flowers By http://www.hiddengardenflowers.com/

Director https://www.instagram.com/heyitspeterrr_/?hl=en Producer https://www.instagram.com/fabianzvon/?hl=en

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Bridal Inspired Makeup Tutorial ♡ Feat. Jess Bauer ♡ Jasmine Hand

♡ Subscribe! ♡ Watch in HD! ♡ IG: @makeupby_jaz _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

hiiiiii guys!!! sooo excited to be doing this beautiful girls wedding makeup! so i thought why not film her trial!! She was after full coverage and soft eyes and i love how it looks on her! Not too little and not too much! Well in my opinion anyway haha! Please give this video a thumbs up if you enjoy my client vids! Love you and ill see ya in my next vid xxx

Jess’ Instagram: @jessbauer _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

♡ Products Used ♡ REN Moisterizer Too Faced Hangover Primer Tarte Amazonian Clay Foundation (Tan Sand) & Mac Studio Fix in NC35 Maybelline Fit Me Conealer (Light) Laura Mercier Translucent Powder Mac Mineralize Skin Finish (Medium Plus) MAC Nutcracker Face Highlighter (Limited Edition) Anastasia Beverly Hills Brow Palette (Soft Brown) Makeup Geek Cosmetics Creme Brûlée Eyeshaddow- http://bit.ly/2cOa0Yc Makeup Geek Cosmetics Frappe Eyeshaddow- Makeup Geek Cosmetics Shimma Shimma Eyeshaddow- Anastasia Beverly Hills Makeup by Mario Palette (Violetta) Gerard Cosmetics Nude Lip Liner – http://bit.ly/1sAfUU2 (Use code Jaz25 for $ off) MAC Faux Lipstick

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from http://www.cosmetics4beauty.com/oil-serum/beauty-tips-for-women-2/ from https://wartremoval01.tumblr.com/post/165700602363

[wartremoval01]

Beauty Tips For Women

Wedding Makeup Tutorial | PatrickStarrr

Happy Wedding!! If you are getting married…congratulations! This is a classic glam wedding makeup tutorial on my friend Christen Dominique! Subscribe to see more tutorials like this!

xoxo PatrickStarrr

Hair by https://www.instagram.com/princeangelll/?hl=en Robes by https://www.instagram.com/arikasato/?hl=en Flowers By http://www.hiddengardenflowers.com/

Director https://www.instagram.com/heyitspeterrr_/?hl=en Producer https://www.instagram.com/fabianzvon/?hl=en

——Products Mentioned——

——FACE—— Charlotte’s Magic Cream Treat & Transform Moisturizer http://bit.ly/2nBNsU1 Tatcha Luminous Deep Hydration Firming Eye Serum http://bit.ly/2nBS2BJ Make Up For Ever Ultra HD Invisible Cover Foundation http://bit.ly/2pqMC98 Hourglass Vanish Seamless Finish Foundation Stick http://bit.ly/2nBRV9D Beautyblender http://bit.ly/2pqN7Aa Smashbox Iconic Photo Finish Foundation Primer http://bit.ly/2nBOgIx Smashbox Photo Finish Hydration Foundation Primer http://bit.ly/2nBMyqQ Tarte Double Duty Beauty Shape Tape Contour Concealer http://bit.ly/2pqM57e DERMABLEND Loose Setting Powder Translucent http://bit.ly/2nBHD9f MAC Peaches Powder Blush http://bit.ly/2pr5btZ Becca Bronzed Amber http://bit.ly/2nBZFZc Becca Opal http://bit.ly/2nC1epV MAC Fix Plus http://bit.ly/2pqNn2c Scandinavia Makeup Finishing Spray http://bit.ly/2nC0AsC

——EYES—— Too Faced Shadow Insurance http://bit.ly/2pr1kwZ Benefit Cosmetics Precisely My Brow Pencil http://bit.ly/2pr3ZHa Urban Decay Naked Ultimate Basics Palette http://bit.ly/2pqYubn Anastasia Beverly Hills Modern Renaissance Eye Palette http://bit.ly/2nBUqIX Urban Decay Naked 24/7 Glide-On Double-Ended Eye Pencil http://bit.ly/2pqPh2C Make Up For Ever Star Lit Powder http://bit.ly/2nC0z7U Duo Eyelash Adhesive http://bit.ly/2nBXIvu Rimmel London Scandalizes Mascara http://bit.ly/2nBVdtp Marc Jacobs Beauty O!Mega Bronzer http://bit.ly/2pr75L2

——LIPS—— MAC Lip Pencil Spice http://bit.ly/2pqO4bV Maybelline Beige Babe http://bit.ly/2nC6ARU

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hiiiiii guys!!! sooo excited to be doing this beautiful girls wedding makeup! so i thought why not film her trial!! She was after full coverage and soft eyes and i love how it looks on her! Not too little and not too much! Well in my opinion anyway haha! Please give this video a thumbs up if you enjoy my client vids! Love you and ill see ya in my next vid xxx

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[amiducabaret]

#GrandCabaret Sam 08/04

 @PatSebastien  @PSebastien_Fan  @France2Tv  @OrchestreColl

Rendez-vous à 21h00

18e saison pour Le Plus grand cabaret de Patrick Sébastien ! Une émission chargée de magie, d'humour et de visuels plus spectaculaires les uns que les autres. Antoine Duléry est le parrain de ce troisième numéro de 2017. Les invités du soir : Isabelle Mergault, Vincent Niclo, Alicia Aylies (Miss France 2017), Régis Mailhot, Reem Kherici, Max Guazzini, Olivier Minne, Karl Zéro, Dominique Besnehard et Christophe Barratier.

Retrouvez sur scène : Legion : troupe balançoire Nestor Hato : magie Kerol : clown Acrobatic Quartet : quatuor acrobates Bernard Bilis : close-up Human's : troupe hip-hop Hakan Berg : magie burlesque Chi-han : diabolos Quiddlers : YMCA Teslenko : quatuor jonglage Amazonian duo : guo main à main Craig & Elizabeth : grande illusion Sky Angels : numéro aérien Dani Lary : le Gloup

[heleneplays]

PLEASE its been months since i requested this and like. you sending it then almost immediately and me keeping it in here. as a treat.

BUT RN IM JUST LIKE. INCREDIBLY WEEPY ABT IT,,,, so posting it as part of ur TUMBLR REBIRTH <3

so!!! @jamesshawgames thank u once again for indulging me and sending this 🥺✨ literally so awesome and sweet of you and i count myself lucky lmao <3333

ANYWAYS the thing under read more :)

You asked for ROs looking after a sick MC. So here's the first three!

---

Sick MC scenarios, Part 1!

***

"Here, drink this. It always cheers me up when I'm feeling poorly."

Rémy bustles over to the bed with something clutched in his right hand. He thrusts it under your nose.

"Wine? I feel like death and you're going to make me drink wine?"

"Non. I am not giving you mere wine. I am giving you a 1921 Chateau la Gaffeliere. If this doesn't cure you, nothing will!"

The smell of the alcohol makes you gag. Rémy immediately snatches his hand away.

"Helene, I love you, and I am not a violent man. But I am warning you, if you throw up on this jacket I will suffocate you with a pillow."

***

"Are you feeling better yet?"

You sigh. "No, Dominique. It's only ten minutes since you last asked."

They kick their feet restlessly. "You know what will make you feel better? Activity! Lying in that bed all day is no good for you. How about--hear me out--how about we nip outside and just do some really, really easy and relaxing robbery?"

"What are you talking about? I can barely stand up!"

"You know that pawnbroker's on the corner? Well, I was having a look at the lock on their back door the other day, and it's really easy. We could just slip in the back and we'll be home before you know it. It'll be great fun. You'd get some fresh air. You wouldn't even have to climb up the wall or anything."

"Please! I feel like I'm dying here!"

They sigh. "You've been dying for two whole days now. I'm bored!"

"Do you want to go and rob something?" you ask, a little frustrated. "You do, don't you? Why don't you go and do that? I'll be OK for a little while. Go ahead, have some fun."

They spring to their feet, beaming widely, and kiss you on the forehead.

"Thanks Helene! You're the best! I'll be sure to shoplift you some paracetamol on the way home!"

***

"Here you go, Helene," chirps Esme, approaching the bed with a glass in her hand. "This is my old governess Mrs. Strickland's miracle cure. She always used to give me this as a child. It always made me feel better."

You peer skeptically into the glass. "Is that a raw egg in there?"

"Yes! She always put a raw egg in. I think, anyway. Honestly, I can't quite remember the exact recipe, so there's been a little bit of improvisation. Raw egg, sugar, chilli powder, honey and just a tiny little splash of whisky."

You turn up your nose as she brings it up to your mouth.

"A splash of whisky? It smells more like there's half a bottle in there!"

"Yes, there is," chirps Esme brightly. "It was a splash of whisky when I was a child. But you're a grown-up, so I compensated. Now come on, drink up!"

"Are you sure this is safe to drink? You've made it before?"

She purses her lips and shakes her head. "Not exactly. I didn't actually have to make it when I was a child. We had servants to do that. But I watched them make it sometimes. I'm pretty sure I got it right." She thinks for a second. "Oh no, wait, I did make it once! When Harriet got sick on her eleventh birthday!"

"And did it cure her?"

"Um, not exactly. We had to take her to the hospital, as I recall."

You look at her for a few seconds. Silently, she moves the glass away from your mouth.

"Yes. Perhaps not."

***

More to follow!

[heleneplays]

MCR-SocMed AU pt. 1

or in which Helene is experiencing the worst day today :)

[heleneplays]

You'll remain here (You'll remain dear inside)

LITERALLY FUCK ME I GUESS. SPENT THIS WHOLE DAY DOING NOTHING BUT WRITE FOR THE BLORBOS AND YOU KNOW WHAT. IDC. IT'S WORTH IT. THEY'RE WORTH IT.

anyways this are parts of the besties' pov, because I have unresolved feelings and half baked personifications of them screaming at me to write!!! them!!! down!!! so i am blaming my own issues but also James bc SIR. augh. my love for your goddamn blorbos is terminal and i succumb gladly :(

ok but honestly i was originally just going to write a meta fic of Helene actually becoming a self-aware character, that her choices were all predetermined, that it was a game etc etc on the second part but HEY things happen and next thing i know i wrote like 10k words instead of her choosing to fuck the narrative that good things have a price, and love is always enough in this three (?) part series of the endgame that never is, was, and hopefully never will be!!!!!!

ANYWAYS

forgot to say but stream GODSENT by BEN&BEN LIKE AUGH PLEASE.

again, María x Helene, but arching POVs from Sam, Cleo, Esme, Rémy, Zhu, and Dominique in the start of it all <3

---

Helene died, cradled in María's arms. They saw her breathe her last, focused on nothing but the woman who held her.

Sam almost wants to be bitter at that moment, because she'd gone and left, and her eyes never strayed. She didn't notice anyone else, had no other words to say except for María, and then they remember.

("It's always been her, Sam." She whispers, smiling brokenly as she stares straight ahead.)

So instead, they turn that bitterness into one part grief, nine parts wonder because throughout their adventures, the woman they consider their idol-turned-mentor-turned-friend was still as true to their heart, even in the face of broken dreams of the future, in the face of death.

---

"It feels like i'm playing God, when I hold these things in my hand." She whispers.

Sam remembers the island. Of how the Carxite podium held her, gripped her. The way inhuman rage looked at her, and how she ordered the island's defenses to activate.

Sam remembers the ozone smell, like fresh struck thunder; of vision of half-melted bodies of her enemies, of all the Nazis who set their boots into the shore.

Sam remembers calling out for her, and her cruel reply; remembers the light in her eyes gone, replaced with a dead-eyed imposter in her place sneering with cold contempt.

Of her breaking out of it, as they approached her, and as María, even then, stared at the woman with no ounce of fear.

Then Sam thinks about the silver-eyed goddess who stood in that place just moments ago, radiant with power, untouchable, but alive in the way the first one forgot; of how they snapped their fingers, and used the stone's powers like a familiar extension of their limb—not to kill everyone like she did then—but to delibitate and injure her enemies enough to stop them from interfering.

(Of how María, themselves, Belby, and in extension, the rest of their team shot Heidi Hahn in cold blood as Helene turned her wiles against the slippery snake beforehand.)

And of how they decisively struck down, with no measure of mercy, the other woman who made this endgame happen.

(Because if Sabine Schneider never found about the Archive, never subscribed to the Aryan ideals, never descended into a madness so familiar, then this clash of titans would have perhaps never borne fruit.)

(Atleast, Sam would like to think so.)

---

"Of all the people you included for this deathride of a mission, I didn't think you'd be the one to die, Helene."

---

Cleo looks at the woman she just helped lay down the couch, then towards Esme who was looking at Helene with a curious gaze. She looks as heartbreak settles in the woman's eyes, but not grief. She's seen enough people in the entirety of this war mourn and break into grief, but Esme seems to just breeze past that and go straight to acceptance.

Cleo feels discombobulated.

"It doesn't feel right, no?" The blonde's crisp tone shakes her out of stupor. The woman would be embarassed at being caught staring, but she's kind of past that.

"I don't—I mean, She is—" Cleo starts, trying to give words to her thoughts. Esme understands though.

"The first time I met her, I knew she was a star. She burned so fierce and brightly that day that she and my..." Esme shakes her head, voice pained but a broken smile painting her lips. "the day she and I met. Did you know we met during her dig in Jerusalem in '34? We crossed paths outside the Colony, and I felt something was about to happen after a brief moment our gazes met. Not even 10 minutes later, she was running out the Grand Salon, Nazis on her heels after she pissed them off— Next thing I knew, I was out there with the shattered remains of a pot, saving her from certain death by gunshot after she got herself cornered by one."

"I knew Spillane was a bit of a disaster, but to hear that she's just like that since then—"

"Oh no, don't get me wrong, Helene's a great big daredevil, but I was kind of a foolhardy self-proclaimed adventurer then, dragging Abdul all over the place, then it just clicked, you know? I do so hate bullies, and that day... made things clearer. Somehow."

"I kind of get it. She's a trailblazer, with almost 0 regards to conventional boundaries of society, then she drags you along for the ride."

"I went there willingly, i'll have you know!"

"Oh yeah? Well I was the one dragging her through it first!"

Both women look at each other, and laugh. It's painful, and others would say a touch hysterical, but it's something true, a release.

---

"I did her wrong, kinda a lot. Is it selfish of me to wish she was back, so I can apologize for some of the things I did?"

Esme keeps quiet for a few moments, before she replies.

"Helene got my man killed, you know. In '38, during that quest for that man looking for his ancestor's grave."

Cleo turns to look at her, shocked.

"I'm sorry, that's unkind." Esme sighs, but continues.

"It's just partly her fault. This... cult, they attacked our home because Helene was there, because I missed an adventure and it was a perfect excuse to get to see her. We were down to one floor, trying to survive, and it was a bloodbath, because their members so many, then Sam was clobbered down, and then Helene had to make a choice between me and Abdul."

Cleo wanted to ask so many things, but kept quiet.

"It was a split second, and I saw her looking at Abdul, thinking that my honeybear was going to be the one she saves, because to be quite honest, those two are more alike than I really would like to admit. And I was okay, I was ready for death because I love him, I loved him, I loved Abdul Al-Maliki, and I was alright as long as he lived—"

"But she chose you, instead."

"She did. And I wanted to hate her, because she saved me, instead of him, my light and the reason I loved so freely—And for a while, I did."

A slow smile curls into her face.

"I hated her. For all 10 seconds of it."

Cleo wants to be shocked. But she can't. Helene was, fundamentally, never unlikeable. She may be a clown at times, infuriating and stubborn; but never unlikeable.

(It's like a power of hers, they think. Helene has a great capacity to befriend people, soothe tempers, and charm others.)

(But she also was unflinching, unabashed, and unremorseful, especially against her enemies.)

"Helene has a great capacity for love. I was privelleged to part a small part of her heart, along with Abdul, and it was that part that I think, that gave her the instinct to save me. Love is not quantifiable by any means, but I think, Abdul told her just how far the depths go, and that moment made her choose differently."

Esme clenches her fist.

"I didn't understand then, but looking at how María held her, God, how she broke—She asked for my forgiveness before we left for this, y'know? I said I forgave her then, even if I didn't know why. Because even if his death hurts, he tried, she tried, and that's all I can really ask for."

(Abdul is a kind, good, gentle man. Slow to anger, with an infinite well of love. Helene is a kind, somewhat good, gentle woman. Slow to anger, with an infinite well of love.)

(Demons run when good men go to war.)

(So what would good women make run when they go to war?)

(Everything. Everyone.)

---

"You're right. Helene being dead feels surreal, because she survived far worse things. Most of which were my fault, because I kept omitting parts of the truth."

Cleo says after a while. She closes her eyes, thinking about every adventure she shared with the woman.

New Orleans. Congo. Romita. Kuzco.

All adventures fraught with deep, heavy things. Goddamned Racists, secret Nazis and murderous Natives, a Cannibalist group, and again, even more Nazis, except this time not-so-secret.

"I should be dead, to be honest. All the way back from Congo."

Cleo takes a deep breath.

"Our story starts in New Orleans, like I told you. She invited me to do a guest lecture in her fine, prissy, whites-only college, because she was like that; and we attracted the attention of the local Ku Klux Klan because of it. Things happened, and I dragged her to solve a mystery, we solved it only to get captured; she got lightly tortured for our troubles, almost maimed by a dog and then a croc. Then I invited her to Congo, she accepted, omitted that the jungle locals were growing more agressive, stumbled to a Nazi conspiracy, got captured, AGAIN, almost got branded as slaves, DID work one shift as one, staged a coup, overthrew the local soldier garrison... THEN HAD TO STAGE ANOTHER BATTLE YET AGAIN, but we survived; hell, we lived!"

Her hands shake, imperceptibly.

"We lived because she sent Sam and our guide, Jeff, with me, and she braved the north side alone with her part of the troops until we had to regroup as one, and then she saved me, while I was lying prone on my back, about to get skewered by their bayonets; but there she was, like an avenging little angel, smoking gun being reloaded faster than I could comprehend. And all I did get to say was thanks, because our adventure wasn't done, and after it all she was just—"

Cleo smiles, thinking about the Helene who literally flopped down on a bed and slept 48 hours straight.

"She went straight to sleep, heedless of everything else, didn't she?"

"Yeah."

They both take a second to collect themselves. Then Cleo continues.

"The next time we met was months after that, but she waved me off, getting me a drink 'til we went home drunk, and then I didn't talk to her about it again, and see her in person until Romita. I can't tell you want happened in Kuzco, but God, Romita? That place was a hundred ways more personal and fucked up than the whole back-to-back siege in Congo, because that... the monsters we encountered there? Truly Inhuman."

Cleo twists her fingers, trying not to remember the way her student flinched away from her, scared and emaciated; of the broken body of the girl, Mina–no, Stefania, flying down to the earth, and the crunch that followed after her self-made descent off the ravine.

(She tries to keep the chilling image of Ariadne Stokes smiling at them beforehand out of her mind, and shivers as she tried to think of what monster Helene faced. Because the ravenette was so silent and withdrawn afterwards, and she wouldn't speak of anything that transpired, even prodded.)

"Alone." Cleo says, and Esme searches her face, trying to understand. Then it clicks.

"You left her alone."

A statement, not a question.

"Yes. I'm not proud of it, but I've left her more times than I should have, all these years."

"...I won't ask why, or tell you what you should feel, because that's yours alone." Esme finally says, after a while. "But I'd like to think she's forgiven you anyways. She did that, kind of a lot."

"...Yeah, I know. I want to think that too."

---

"You saved... kinda a lot of asses, Spillane. But nobody's ever been able to save you, when it mattered."

"No, someone did."

And their gaze slides towards María, who's still looking out the window and into the empty night sky, looking for something only she could see.

---

Rémy can count on one hand the times he'd been out of words. As a learned man, he never had a lack of them, loving the way his voice sounds, especially at the throes of passion.

But hearing that his dear friend, the woman who dared him, once upon a time, to fuck one of his paramours in the top of the Eiffel, has been lost. Well, people can forgive him for not gracing them with his presence, right?

("You, you, you fiendish Frenchman!" Helene shakes with indignance, trying to pummel your back with her tiny fists as you carry her on your shoulder.)

(You laugh, real and deep. "Oh yes, I am a fiend, and I am indeed French! Congratulations on your astute observation, chérie." This is one of the many times you've met after a seminar, but the first you've seen the professional woman crack. Who knew all it took was getting her drunk and embarrassed?)

("Augh, damn you. The only person who should be handling me like this is Spanish and she's farrrrrr more cuter than you, Fournier!" She declares, and you almost colide with a post.)

("Well, well, well! Sounds like a juicy tale, Chérie! You should tell me all about it!")

("No." She pouts, and you feel her tense. "Talking about her makes me sad. And I don't like that.")

(You want to press, but it slips your mind, because the next moment, she's out like a light.)

Miles grimaces beside him, bone deep weariness hitting in the moment the news hits.

"—o can you guys come pick everyone here up?"

"Oui, hang on tight. We'll get the island secured."

---

"How does it go again? Ah, yes. Too rich for use, for Earth too dear."

---

Zhu feels numb, as he sits quietly on his perch, just back from staring from the corpse of his friend.

("You are better than this, Jian Zhu, and you better listen to someone who knows and believes that there IS a goodness that exists within you, with all that want to be a better man! It starts that this moment, by acknowledging that this is bigger than you, than Kao, than everything else you've planned for revenge; So please—" Her voice is five parts pleading, five parts command, and oh. There it is. "Please stay, and help me finish this once and for all.")

(It's at this precise moment you knew you'd come to the ends of the earth with her, for her.)

("Okay." You whisper. "Okay." You say again, more full, more forceful. Because you know your need is selfish, is stupid, but Helene understands, and she knows better than anyone else a part of your story now, and all she asks for is this time, to help her save the world.)

(And you couldn't disobey, even if you tried. Because she is part of your absolution, and you will be a supplicant for her earnest devotion, the same way you feel her protégé(?) does as they cling to her.)

(Helene Spillane may physically be the smallest woman in the room, but the magnitude of her presence fills her with unnatural grace and strength that she dons on and off as she pleases, like a cloak.)

---

"...I'm not surprised, because I know how far devotion can run. I... I understand."

---

Dominique has had some of the shittiest days lately. It nearly tops the moment they uncovered the camps, but—

Helene is still, and if they close their eyes, they could swear the woman was just sleeping, the way she was no less than 48 hours ago, deep in the jungle wilds while in Japan.

It looked deep, you thought, with the way she was so still; but the brief rest didn't last, and she handily opened her eyes to stare towards you, unseeing yet, but her hands flying to the throwing knife hidden in her side at a blink of an eye.

Then awareness fills them, and you shake you head, opting to get her to prepare instead.

(So no, denial is a bad look on you.)

It doesn't feel real, the assault on the fortress taking almost instantaneously after their mission, after a brief hour or two to get ready with tools and wait for the team to be assembled. Then the bloodbath, of fighting the ground troops, teaming up in several pairs because manpower, time, and the path to the end is limited, and you all needed to make sure the assault is fast and efficient for the world, the fate of the world hangs in this one mission, and you loathe to think the end of it fails.

You don't want to fail. Death is inevitable, and you are nonetheless proud for being included in this ragtag bunch of people fighting for a better tomorrow. Included in the imposible last defense of this mystical mumbo-jumbo, because of course alien and magical powers are goddamn real.

(Fires blaze in your heart as Helene makes the final rounds for one last time before the endgame starts. Final goodbyes were already said awhile ago, and everyone tenses in anticipation.)

(In a better world, you think, Helene would have made a great motivational speaker.)

(And then you snort. Because Helene actually hates speaking in front of a crowd, and most, if not all her extroverted tendencies were a front. You'd know, because for all the showmanship you've done for the sake of your career, part of it was just for you to show off your skills in a relatively anonymous manner.)

(Show a clown to the circus, and get your bread and gold, and all that jazz.)

You're going to miss her, you think. You look around and spot Sam cringing on the side, trying their best to patch themselves up with one hand.

And you can't help but sigh, because the woman you observed who'd have patted their head and give them a noogie before doing the patch-up themselves is gone.

(And never coming back...)

---

"Our time was brief, but hey, we always had fun, didn't we Helene my dear?"

---

They say death is the end.

---

Helene is dead.

And then she wakes up.

There are many questions to be answered. But looking into her eyes, even though something inside has fundamentally shifted, something added, something lost; it's still her.

So they hold off, and take the gift as it is.

---

The word of her death does not spread far. Everyone else agreed to keep it under wraps, the cost of victory still too raw, too dear to talk about.

They settle on half of a lie, that yes, she was briefly gone; but life-saving maneuvers got her back.

But everyone in that island remembers. Her friends; her chosen family— something will forever be changed, because they knew the finality, had lived it, and mourned it, however briefly; before she went and changed all the rules.

(Helene loves to defy expectations. This happening is no other. Everyone is safe, and it's free real estate.)

And because of it, they will all have the chance to talk, really talk, and a chance for a future. Altogether.

---

Helene sits in a bench under the shade. Silver strands caress her face as the wind shifts, blowing a gentle breeze against her face.

Beside her, María sits, saying nothing aside from quietly slipping her hand into hers, and squeezing it. A stray beam dapples from the trees, making the golden bands on their fingers glint in the fading light.

"Do you have any regrets, Helene?"

"Before? During? or After?"

"In any of them."

Helene is quiet, as she is most days. But María has grown to be patient, because love is kind, and makes better fools of them both.

"No."

Short and succinct, with a finality in her tone.

(María, as most of the years that have passed, had grown to understand her new language.)

"Okay. Me either."

And silence reigns.

It’s a loaded but comfortable silence, their two hearts beating as one, and for that moment, everything is enough.

---

"Hey, María?"

"Yes, Helene?"

"Do you know I love you?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Know that you love me?"

"Yeah, that."

"I don't need to know. I always felt it."

"Even after all I put you through?"

"Even then. Even now. Forever will, and even then."

"How?"

"You're a masterful liar, María, but you can't fool someone like me."

The book snaps shut. And she looks down on her lap, where Helene lies as she wants.

"And what is 'like you', huh?"

Helene looks up at her, eyes bright, and ever so full of love.

"Someone who knows. Someone who sees. Someone who percieves."

She says, quietly, but confidently. Then the brunette shifts, bringing herself up, so different in the time she lied there unmoving, craded in the redhead's arms. And she cups her face in her small, warm hands, and brings herself close, close eneough that they can see the flecks in their irises; of the yellow and gold intersped in María's hazel, and the subtle silver that settled in Helene's dark, grey-brown.

"Most importantly, Someone who loves..." she whispers. "you."

(María kisses her, and it's heady, sweet, and everything Helene ever needs.)

---

"Why did you come back?"

"...Because I wanted to."

"And it's enough?"

You understand that she speaks from a fear, a fear that you'll abandon her for your chase of power. The fear of being left alone, because you already left this mortal coil once, and something hums in you, calling for the void.

You can't explain in words, so you capture her in a kiss. And then try.

"I fought the universe itself to come back here because I believed, María. I believed in humanity, in myself, and the people here I do so love."

"That doesn't answer if it's enough." She answers, her grip tighter at the second.

Am I enough, she what she really asks.

It should hurt, after all these years, this doubt; but instead, it teethers you. And you blink, and everything finally slots into place. So you match her, and hold her close.

You smile.

"I love you, María."

You are enough, is your reply.

[heleneplays]

anyways i offer nothing but my interpretation of the cast as well, based on pre-existing materials & convos 💖:

in order: Sam, Dominique, Esme, Zhu, María, Rémy, Cleo, and Abdul 😳🥺💖

---

[MC heights pt. 1]

[heleneplays]

Who would win, a secure museum patrolled by many security as it undergoes construction, or one very wily yet VERY goofy Amazonian with tranq darts and an offer to one (1) visiting Spillane?

anyways not to be an absolute simp for a super thief but like. DOMINIQUE MY BELOVED,,, @jamesshawgames I cant believe I'm once again filled with love 😳🔪

[heleneplays]

not to be a whole ass lesbian for a character who’s been only described by text but María García Pérez ma’am I am out here simping for you

[heleneplays]

Relics Quick Character Guide

Compilation of details as a handy reference guide for Sam & the ROs taken from the sacred texts, peeking @ the code, and my sleepy thoughts & deductions

these are in no way official (aside from what i already pulled from the pre-existing descriptions) & is v much subject to change since I have blanks left for details i can't find or probably skipped over bc checking the texts are hard and I forgot to grab the other screenshots. Also it's 5 am and i am very very sleepyso I have negative braincells, actually]

Sam Hopkins

eyes: brown

hair: brown, unruly curly

skin: pale/fair (?) [from "red" arms | relics 2 prologue]

build: short & stocky

ethnicity/nationality:

Esme Fairfield

eyes: green

hair: curled, blonde (relics 1) | straight asymmetric bob, blonde (relics 2)

skin: tanned (?) [i think i saw a passage during the chap 5 in book 1 or around. the epilogue??? im not sure]

build: elegant

ethnicity/nationality: European

Abdul

eyes:

hair:

skin:

build: Huge (warm hugs!!!)

ethnicity/nationality: Arab

María García Pérez

eyes: hazel

hair: curls, flame-red (relics 1) | longer & wavier tumbling past her shoulders, deeper red (relics 2)

skin: (fair skinned in my depiction bc i based my drawing on an average spanish woman),

build: average (but ngl i picture her toned), feminine

ethnicity/nationality: Spanish

Jian Zhu

eyes:

hair:

skin:

build: short & slight; well proportioned; handsome

ethnicity/nationality: Asian

Cleopatra Stone

eyes:

hair:

skin:

build: TALL <3

ethnicity/nationality: Black | American

Rémy Fournier

eyes: brown

hair:

skin:

build: lithe; strong

ethnicity/nationality: Parisian

Dominique (Amazonian)

eyes:

hair: auburn

skin:

build: snub nosed, thick lipped;

ethnicity/nationality: European