#double paul alert

[nerolikestowander]

Really weird set of drawings that doesn’t go together at all

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: The Human and the Wolf Chapter Sixteen

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x OC (First person, no use of Y/N)

Description: Bella Swan's twin moved to Forks with her sister. Whilst Bella falls for a vampire, her twin falls for a wolf. The story runs parallel to Bella's story in Twilight. But following her twin and her life with the wolves.

Warnings: Nothing

Chapter Sixteen - I Wanna See Wolf Paul

When I woke up, the sun was shining through the window of Emily and Sam's spare room, I blinked softly, though the sun was out it was still cold, I shivered slightly and nuzzled closer to Paul, his warm body making sure I didn't feel an ounce of cold. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight that streamed through the window. I sighed happily, he was so breathtakingly beautiful, it made my insides feeling a little fuzzy knowing it was me and him forever now. A small pang of guilt washed over me, thinking about Bella. I wish I could wave a magic wand and fix her, make her forget about the Cullens altogether. 

"Good morning, sweetheart" Paul mumbles, his voice deep and hoarse as he speaks, his morning voice might have been one of my favourite things in the entire world. It was deep, sexy and oh, could probably make me do anything for him. Forget my morals and listen to his words forever. 

"Morning" I mumble, I take a deep breath feeling very warm, wolves were weird, I wasn't sure how turning into a wolf meant you were always incredibly hot to the touch. It was a weird, strange world we lived in. 

"Can I ask you something??" I ask, the thought of wolves on my mind now, I hadn't seen him as a wolf since that day on the beach. He raised an eyebrow slightly as I spoke, obviously not expecting a question so soon after waking up. 

"Yeah, of course. You can ask me anything" He mumbles with a lazy smile. I had wanted to forget about the question and move forward to press my lips against his, my eyes trailed down to his lips, they were so soft and pink, and fit perfectly against mine. "Sweetheart..?" I look back up, my eyes meeting his as I blush, having been caught staring. 

"Can we go into the woods today? And maybe you could phase... I wanna see wolf Paul properly" I say confidently. Paul's expression softened at my request, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Of course we can, sweetheart. I'd love to phase for you in the woods. I thought you'd never ask."

I grin excitedly, today was going to be awesome. Hopefully he didn't eat me, well, I'm sure that wouldn't happen, just my mind being overly active. We stayed in the bed, cuddling for a little longer, until his nostrils flared at the smell of food being cooked downstairs. I giggle softly as he very quickly rushes out of bed, almost forgetting to dress, good thing I reminded him. 

The smell of breakfast wafts through the house, Paul had beaten me downstairs by a few minutes as I needed to get dressed. When I do finally get downstairs I find Emily, Sam, Jared and Paul all sitting around the large kitchen table. I say my good mornings and take my usual seat by Paul, the sun was shining through the open double doors, the fresh wood air mixed with the scent of breakfast and it had me smiling, this was my place, my happy place. 

"Looks like Paul had a good birthday last night." Jared said, a knowing grin on his lips. I rolled my eyes playfully, and groaned softly as I saw Paul smile proudly, his chest puffing out slightly. 

"Damn right I did!" He grins, I give his arm a prod. "Shut up" I say, my face flushing red. I quickly ate my breakfast and stood, grabbing Paul's hand, pulling him with me, he was already on his third plate of food, and his mouth was still full, but I was so ready to see his wolf form. He chuckled, a muffled noise as he followed me from the house. 

As we walked through the woods, his hand was tightly in mind, his senses already on high-alert, the woods were quiet and fresh, the morning animals scurried through the trees, and leaves rustled through the breeze. Once we were deep enough into the thick of trees he stopped, with two hands on my shoulders he moved me and sit on a log, we were in a small clearing now, the trees made a circle of sorts around the grassed area. 

"Ready?" He asks, a small grin on his lips. I nodded, my eyes not leaving his as I look up at him. Paul steps away from me, a few feet into the clearing, he starts pulling his clothes off, a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine as I watched him. Once he was naked he threw his clothes to me and I gathered them into my arms, holding them close, smiling as his scent flowed into my nose, I took in a deep breath and smiled as the relaxed feeling that washed over me. 

"Ready, sweetheart?" He asked, I giggled softly as he stood naked in front of me. I nodded once more, my knees bounced up and down as I felt even more excited. Paul nods, giving me one last intense look before his body started shaking, his body shuddered and contorted, and moments later a huge wolf stood in front of me. His fur looked so soft, I wanted to touch it. I slowly stood up and walked to him, reaching my hand out, his eyes were the same, soft and loving as the looked to me. I shivered slightly and moved further, moving my fingers into the space between his ears. 

My fingers disappeared into the dark silver fur, I giggled softly. "You're beautiful Paulie" I whisper. He leans into my touch, a low, contented sound like a growl rumbling in his throat. I move slightly and press my forehead against his snout, I move my hands under his chin, stroking him with my nails as his fur tickles my nose. Paul's tail started to wag slowly as you kept petting him, a deep, low rumble coming from his chest. 

"I love you" I whisper. We stood there for a while, my face resting on his, breathing together, listening to the world go on round us, the birds chirped and the wind made small noises as it soared through the branches. As Paul changed back into his human form, he stood there for a moment, completely naked, and looked at me. A lazy, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes were filled with something between smugness and affection.

"I loved it, you're so pretty as a wolf" I say, I reach for his clothes and pass them over. 

"You think I'm pretty in my wolf form, huh? Even if I'm a big, furry beast" He asks, smirking as he takes a step closer to me. I take a step back, giggling softly. "Put your clothes on!" I squeal. He chuckles and steps closer. 

"Why? Too distracted by my naked body?" He asks, a cocky grin on his lips. 

"Paul, put your clothes on you dork" I say, he lets out a mock-sigh, stepping away from him. "Alright, alright, I'm putting my clothes on" He starts putting his clothes on, and I do feel a little sad, he was so pretty naked, damn wolf genes didn't do that, he was perfect beforehand. I stare at him some more, particularly enjoying how the sun hits his eyes, making them sparkle as he grins down at me. 

"We have the whole day, what shall we do?" I ask. 

"Well, sweetheart, we can do whatever you want. We could stay here, go to mine, hang out at the beach" He suggests as he walks to me, he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tight to him. My mind flickers back to Bella momentarily, but I shook the thought, I'd see her tonight...

"Let's go to yours, I haven't seen your mother in a few days, I miss her" I say cheerfully, Paul's mum was maybe the nicest woman in La Push, and secretly I think she liked me more than Paul. 

"Yeah, sweetheart, we can go to my place, let's go" He takes my hand in his, his grip tight on my hand as he begins leading me out of the woods. 

Taglist:

@jaybbygrl, @strayteez3staner, @8crazy-freak8, @idontliketoread2137, @bonni-98

[storiesfromafan]

Little Bird - Part Two

A/N: Well the first part got a good response, so I've revised part two. And part three has been started.

Hopefully this isn't too bad haha.

This part showcases more of Feyd, as well as his interaction with the reader. Also, things do get interesting...

Tag list: @livyluna22 @psychocitylights

Previously: Part One

Part Two

Sleep had been pleasant, yet dreaming was a curse. You saw your Uncle and Cousin, sharing a tender moment with them on Arrakis. You all talking about the spice and the Freeman. There was a debate between your Uncle and Paul. But there had been no hostility. When the debate was over, you and Paul had taken to walking around the compound. After that you don’t recall much. But at one point you had seen your parents, and shared a hug with your mother before you were being woken by the door opening to your comfortable cell – I mean room.

The three women from yesterday entered, heads bowed and apologising for the intrusion. One slipped into the bathroom to ready the tub for you. The other two waited for you to rise before ushering you into the bathroom. Upon entering you were greeted by the floral smell from the scents and oils added to the water.

“What time is it?” You asked softly, unsure of how to speak to the women.

“It is still morning my lady" one replied kindly.

“And you must eat before meeting with the Na-Baron" another replied.

Ah yes. You now recall Fayd's words, and how he would have made his decision. A chill ran down your spine. Soon you’d know your fate. The two women who spoke to you came over to you to help you undress, while the third left. Almost exactly like last night. Once naked, you walked into the tub and let the warm water sooth you. Yet your mind focused on your meeting to come.

The other two women excused themselves, and you were alone once more. The room was silent, you were silent. You were taking your time, soaking in the calm before the storm. After some time one of the women came in to check on you, and you decided it was time to get out. She called for the other woman, one grabbed the towel and wrapped it around you, while the other emptied the water from the tub.

Walking back into your room, both women followed and proceeded to help you dress for the day. A black full length dress was selected; light and flowy fabric. It was fastened at each shoulder by silver clips, the neckline low and draped to show a bit of cleavage. The bodice was fitted, and the skirt flowing out. It was simple but tasteful. Unlike some of the clothes you had seen from different great families. A pair of black low heels were placed on your feet. Next was your hair, which one of the women combed before putting it up in an intricate bun, held together with a silver clips that had silver vines on it. You wish you hated how they’d dressed you, but you couldn’t deny how well it all looked.

You were then lead from the room, down a maze of halls before stopping at a set of large double doors. You gave them both a confused look, as they bowed, one softly informed you this was were you’d eat. And then the doors opened, slowly you moved into the room before they closed. You turned back to look at the closed doors, feeling alert, something behind you in the room making you uneasy. Slowly you turned around, look into the room you noted the long dinning table, with matching chairs. Cautiously you kept moving forward, finally noting the food laid out. And then you saw it, or rather a him.

The Baron was at the head of the table, his hands moving to grab food and stuff his gullet. The closer you got the more of him you could see, and it was off putting. The way he ate with his hands was nauseating. Finally he looked up once sensing your presence. The way his eyes followed your every movement, yet never stopped feeding himself. Finally you stood by the seat next to his, that was when the Baron finally paused from pushing food into his mouth. Greasy hand gesturing to the seat before you.

“Sit" he said, mouth still housing food before he swallowed.

Hesitantly you took the seat, which had been heavier then you thought. But once you were situated, you were fine. You remained silent, the only noise being the gluttonous creature before you eating. You cast a look to the setting before you, even their plates, cutlery and glasses were bland and metallic. There was no colour or pattern or design. Just bland and sterile.

“Eat" the Baron advised, as you sat there unmoving and unspeaking.

You cast a look over the food on offer, and it too looked bland. Various meats, cheese and bread. No fresh fruits. But you should have figured from the toxic planet that fresh fruit and vegetables would be scares to none. Reluctantly you placed a few pieces of better looking meat, cheese and bread on your plate. It took you a few more minutes before finally eating a few pieces, forcefully swallow it. It wasn’t bad, but its wasn’t great.

All the while the Baron watched you, sizing you up. And after you finally ate some food, he settled back to his own food. The man kept an eye on you though. He was trying to work you out. If you were or would be a threat to him, his planet and – ultimately – his nephew; Feyd. Something told him there was more to Feyd ratting out Rabban. But until he could prove anything, the Baron decided to sit back and observe.

“How do you like the meat and cheese?” The Baron asked, wanting to break the silence. But also to get you talking.

Swallowing the mouthful you were eating, you turned your head to the man next you. You slowly nodded your head, “it is...different. But good, Lord Baron".

He nodded, dark eyes watching you. “Good, good. Eat up!” His voice warm, yet you didn’t believe him to be it.

You know the man did not like your family, yourself included. But here he sat, as if he hadn’t wiped them out. The Baron was acting pleasant and welcoming, breaking bread with someone he was doing business with. Yet there was an underline to his hospitality, one that was scheming and underhanded. Remaining calm and collected, you continued to eat. And even made small talk, which surprised the old man. You had to be wise, playing dumb – to a degree – was the smart move. Let the Baron think you were being trusting, but far from it.

After sometime you had both finished, and the Baron had excused himself. Off to tend to matters of importance. But you knew he got what he wanted. Sitting there by yourself you finally relaxed against your chair. You thought over the exchange. A chill washing over you at what his true motives were. Would he have had you slaughtered on the spot if you hadn’t been so compliant? You believe he would have. The moment you spoke up or raised your voice, calling the grotesque out for the death of your family and so many innocent people. But he wasn’t dumb, on some level the Baron knew you were being tactful, careful how to reply and speak to him.

The doors you entered via opened, and in came one of the women who you consider your ladies in waiting at this point. She entered, walking up to you and bowing upon reaching you. “My lady, the Lord Na-Baron requests your presences” she stated softly. “Please follow me...”

Taking the final sip of your drink, you moved from your seat. She began to head for the doors, but briefly stopped to make sure you were following. And you were, you walked behind her with a good distance between you both. Your heart rate picked up with every step towards where ever she was taking you. This was it. This was when you’d finally know your fate.

She came to a stop before two grand doors, and bowed, informing you this was as far as she was to go. She then took her leave. The guards by the doors moved to open the doors for you. Cautiously you entered into what must be The Great Hall, a room where the Baron would welcome visitors. You could see his elevated seat straight in front of you, and unfortunately there was Feyd also. Standing there watching you, hands held behind his back. Today he wore a semi-formal black jacket and pants, his feet clad in boots. His expression was blank, lips set in a straight line.

You began your walk to him, wariness in every step. Your body wanted to turn and run, but you told yourself to be strong. You presented yourself to Feyd with your head held high, and a strong will. You did not want to show any fear. There was a flash of amusement in his bright blue eyes. He was enjoying the strong front you put on.

“You called for me, my Lord Na-Baron?” You asked politely, well versed in social etiquette.

Feyd nodded, his eyes running down your form and back to your face. “Yes little bird, I did" he said off handily.

You waited for him to go on, yet he didn’t. “And, my Lord?”

A small smirk formed on his lips, eyes full of amusement now. He took a few steps walking around you, admiring you in full. “That dress looks lovely on you little bird, suits you well...”

You remained calm and in place. Yet you wanted to turn around and shoot him a glare. “Thank you, my Lord" you said keeping your voice as unmoved as possible. “I am grateful for your approval, yet you have yet to inform me why I am here, my Lord”.

Yes, you were getting tired of this game, your nerves tired of the unknown of what was to come. You wanted Fayd-Rautha to just put you out of your misery, metaphorically or physically. The later proffered to save you from any torture.

“My, my, my little bird" Feyd began with raspy amusement, as he began to walk back to his initial spot before you. “So in a hurry to hear my decision...do you possibly secretly hope to be my whore?”

Now you did shoot him a glare, which only delighted him further. Yet you remained silent. Unsure if your brain and tongue would work together to not say the wrong words. But the scathing glare said volumes. And still Feyd wanted to keep pushing, see how far he could take it.

“Before I inform you of my decision...” he paused, watching how you never wavered in your glare. “I thought we could talk...”

Now your glare wavered. This did not seem like the Fayd-Rautha you had heard stories of. The ruthless Harkonnen that spilled blood without a second thought, and enjoyed pain in an unhealthy way. Yet here he stood rather serious, tone less tormenting or teasing. It sounded as if he truly wanted to have an honest talk with you. Which made you put up your defences, just in case this was one of his ploys.

You remained silent, awaiting him to continue.

Feyd noted you awaited him to continue, so he nodded. “How much do you know of your parents death, little bird?”

His question surprised you. You blinked. “T-they died on their way back to our home planet. The ship been damaged by debris, which hadn’t been seen in time" you recited, as if the report was in your hands and eyes rolled over every word. That report was burned into your memory.

Feyd had nodded his head slowly to every word you said, before pausing to let the words sink in. “Yes, that is what the official reports say. But what if I tell you that isn’t the truth to their deaths?”

First you were confused, then surprised and finally angry. Your fists balling at your sides, as your eyes drew in on him with a dangerous look. “Y-you lie!”

Feyd's gaze drew in on you, his face serious yet not in a sinister way. “I can assure you I am not. Your parents were killed. And someone or someone’s wanted it to seem an accident, little bird".

You took a step back from the man before you, caution now in full force. “W-why, why tell me this?” You questioned, genuinely wanting an answer. “W-why tell me this when I am either to die or be a subject for your pleasure?”

Feyd remained where he was, knowing you were in a flurry of emotions and thoughts right now. He remained blank, not wanting to frighten you. He may not feel like those that aren’t Harkonnen, but as a child he had. It was why he had ended his mother. Her lack of care for him, the neglect he had faced, had little Feyd questioning everything and himself. And when he took the life of the woman who gave him life, his emotions were like numerous rivers all meeting at once.

“I am informing you of knowledge that I have been privy too, little bird" Feyd replied calmly. “And I am giving you a chance to find out the truth”.

“B-but why...?” You asked softly, voice slightly trembling.

“I am offering you my hand to find out the truth, and to take revenge for you as a...gift" he replied studying you, seeing how you looked at him in confusion.

“Y-you gift those to be tortured prisoners or whores?” You were confused on his words, it did not make sense to you one bit.

Feyd chuckled softly, it raspy and amused. “No, little bird, not prisoners or whores" he paused, waiting to see if you might read between the lines. But from your silence he knew he’d have to spell it out for you. “We gift our intended brides".

You were taken aback. Surely you hadn’t heard him right. Surely he did not say bride!? Taking a few steps back you shook your head, no. You turned from Feyd, ready to run for the door, even if you wouldn’t be allowed to leave, it was instinct. And before you could move, a strong hand grasped your wrist, holding you in place. You tried, moving forward and pulling your arm but it wouldn’t be let go.

“I know this is a shock for you" came Feyd's voice, halting you in your movements but remaining with your back to him. “I can honestly say my Uncle would prefer you to be my whore, or dead...but I did not want that".

“W-why...?” you asked with a soft tone of despair.

Why did he not abide by his Uncles Wishes? Feyd had asked himself that question numerous times.

“Because...I recall a moment years ago, with a young girl who stumbled across a secluded fountain on the Palace grounds. She was crying due to the words hurled at her by children from the great families. And rather then ignoring her or leaving, I took the time to talk with her. From that conversation I saw a part of myself in her...the hate and loathing. We spent the afternoon talking, and I knew one day – given the chance – she would want to put those families in there place...”

You listened to his raspy voice, with words that brought back that memory to you. Yes, you had ran from those children, crying from how they spat insults at you and hate for your parents. You remember how annoyed the boy that had been by the fountain was, but he took the time to ask what had happened, and you told him. Your ten year old self had no filter, or cared, telling him all that brought you to that moment. You thought he would have agreed with them, spitting more insults at you, or just walking away. But he didn’t.

You remember how the twelve year old Feyd, who had finally been rid of his hair, had listened passively, not once interrupting you. When he did speak, his voice had been laced with venom for what he said about the children of the great families. How they did not know what others go through. From there you both spoke of how you would enjoy their fall, once great being reduced to rubble.

“I plan to take down as many as I can...” he had said, confident and with passion. And you had believed him.

You remember him asking if you had the chance, would you destroy them? “Yes" was your simple, yet strong reply. From then on you had worked on being stronger, not letting anyone’s words get under your skin. Being the respected and desired young woman. Which with age, you blossomed into a beautiful woman that had many heads turning. Those words the boys – now young men – of the great families had said, changing into ones to entice and ensnare. Yet you remained vigilant, never paying them any mind. For you did not want a snake for a husband.

“That is why, little bird" Feyd spoke, tone soft. “Now, I offer you the chance to not only find out the truth of your parents death, but also the fall of the great families. Those are two gifts for my bride, for my wife to be...do you accept, little bird?”

Standing with your back still to Feyd, his hand finally releasing its hold on you. There was a part of you that still wanted to head for the doors of the great hall. Still, his words kept you locked in place. This man was offering you a chance to learn truth and get revenge on those that had not only been cruel to you, but to him. You both had been that in which children – to young men and women – spoke ill and crass about. Those people were the ones who made you feel and think badly of yourself at one point. Until young Feyd had been the one to speak to you, showing you a different side to who he was. All of that growing up was what made you strong.

Straightening up, head held high, you slowly turned to face Feyd. When your eyes met, he noted there was a fire in those eyes, small but fierce. You stood before him with your arms by your sides, a sign to show you weren’t closed off. You knew this marriage was not a good idea, yet you wanted the truth, and justice.

Taking a deep breath, you released the taken in air before saying; “I...accept”.

Feyd slowly nodded, a small wicked smile upon his lips. “Very well” he paused, before moving his hand to his pocket and retrieving a dark box. “As a sign of betrothal, I give you one final gift...”

You waited with baited breath as Feyd brought forward the box and opened it. You briefly saw silver, before he removed the item from its housing. Hanging from Feyd's hand was a necklace, it’s chain silver and made of various different links with a black pearl being its main feature. Nothing extravagant, yet still beautiful. Feyd moved behind you, his arms coming around you with the necklace. He laid it against your skin, the cool metal fresh upon your warm flesh. The chains length reached your collar bones, and additional chain – which you didn’t notice – going down to the top of your breasts, the black pearl resting there comfortably.

Stepping around you, Feyd once more stood before you. His bright blue eyes admiring the necklace where it lay. Silently pleased of his choice, and how fitting it was against your skin. How such a simple piece looked ten times more extravagant with your beauty. Yes, over the years he had admired your beauty in the colourful dressed and stylish up-do's currently in trend with court. But standing before him, in silver and black, you looked more beautiful to him. Yet something was missing. His eyes roamed over your attire and face, before finally reaching your hair.

That was it. Without a word Feyd moved a hand to your hair, removing the fastening that kept it up in place. Once freed, your locks spilled down your back and over your shoulders like a waterfall. The way it shone in the low light fascinated Feyd. You were the Atreides prize alright, a beautiful gem that was to be his.

All the while Feyd did this, you remained stock-still and calm. Though your heart was racing from such unusual motions for a Harkonnen, or for Feyd. You studied him. Watching how, though his face remained blank, his eyes looked to you in – dare you say, fascination. You thought it strange. Yet this whole planet and its people were strange.

Feyd's fingers grasping your chin which brought you back to the moment, his eyes looking into yours with a seriousness, that fascination seeming to be gone. What stood before you now looked almost possessive, and demanding. This was the Feyd you had heard of. Without a word Feyd moved in, his cracked lips harshly pressed to your soft ones. You remained as you were, not reacting to his sudden action. He pressed his lips harder, then forced his tongue into your mouth. Still you did not act, just standing there, hands clenched at your side as this man claimed what had never been touched before. You knew he wanted you to fight him, push him away and curse him. But you would not give him the satisfaction.

Finally Feyd pulled back, a pleased smirk on his lips as his face remained close to yours. His breath fanning your face as he slightly panted. “You may not have fought me, little bird" he stated looking you in the eyes. “You hoped by doing so it would upset me...but you not reacting to my kiss, it only makes this game more fun".

With those words he stepped back, finally giving you room to breathe. Without any further words from your husband-to-be, Feyd walked past you to the large doors. You heard them open, his faded steps and then their closing once more. Silence. No more words. No more piercing gaze. No more games. You were alone. Slowly you sunk to the floor, your dress spread out around you.

Your mind recalling all that had been said and done between you both. Along with your morning meal with the Baron. The wheels in your head turning, processing it all. The Baron had been fishing this morning. Wanting to gauge your reaction to him, to his hosting. He knew what Feyd was planning to tell you, and he was hoping you would slip up. And he would be able to lock you up or end you.

Feyd’s change in mood was like whiplash. One minute he was serious, the next teasing, then dark. You couldn’t be sure what to expect. Yet for a moment you saw something that you could believe to be real. When he spoke of younger you, and how you found the fountain and him. How he offered to find you the truth about your parents death, and how he would bring down the great families as wedding gifts. No man had offered you such things. Feyd was barbaric. It showed in how he would speak, his actions and his offerings. And yet, you found it appealing. The first man offering you his sword to take down others, to fight for you.

Add that and his forceful kiss, and you were scared. Not scared of him. But for the spark his words and actions ignited in you. Now you fear it might be a mistake to have accepted his proposal. For you were afraid of what was to come, for yourself and between you and Fayd-Rautha Harkonnen.

TBC...

[novelmonger]

Some highlights from the Director/Writer Commentary of The Return of the King with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh:

As they mentioned in TTT, they were originally going to put the Smeagol vs. Deagol fight as a flashback during the Dead Marshes. Before they decided to use it to open RotK, their placeholder idea for a scene to open RotK was to do a sped-up helicopter shot from the Paths of the Dead, across the plains of Edoras, to the Golden Hall where Aragorn wakes up from a nightmare (and then goes and talks to Eowyn). Very glad they went the direction they did!

In the final shot they used when Smeagol takes the Ring out of Deagol's hand, the actor playing Deagol actually blinked, but they liked Andy Serkis' performance so much, they had Weta go in and freeze Deagol's eyes so they could use the shot XD

You know, I forget sometimes that they didn't even have Saruman in the theatrical cut at all. Boggles the mind.

In the scene where Aragorn comes out of the Golden Hall and goes to stand next to Legolas, who's looking out at the night...Viggo and Orlando weren't in the country at the same time, so they shot them separately and then put them together @_@

You know, I never thought about this before, but when Gandalf touches Pippin's face, they had to make sure his hands looked extra big! So they used an actor called Big Paul, who had the biggest hands they could find, and Ian McKellen directed him for how to move his hands in the shot XD And Big Paul is the Rohan guard who gets shoved aside when Merry and Aragorn rush up to the top of the wall to watch Gandalf and Pippin leave!

THEY SHOT A SCENE OF LEGOLAS TALKING TO TREEBEARD ABOUT THE ELVES LEAVING MIDDLE-EARTH?!?!?!?!?!?! :O Originally, it was going to link the Isengard scenes to the scene of Arwen and the other Rivendell Elves going through the forest, but then because of all the Edoras stuff in between, the connection was lost. They also said something about Legolas reciting a poem! And joked again about putting it into the 25th anniversary edition. THAT TIME IS COMING UP, PETER JACKSON!!!! I WANNA SEE THIS SCENE!!!!!!

a;lkdsjs;kdfljds;fjl NOW THEY'RE JUST TEASING US. They talked about a "library scene" during the whole sequence where Arwen goes back to Rivendell and confronts Elrond about how he saw her son, etc. They wouldn't say what happened in the "library scene," but talked about how they should include that in the 25th anniversary edition too. a;ldkfjs;dkfljsd;kfljdslfk

The people on set who had a crush on Sean Bean were called "Beanstalkers"! XD That's the best; every fan to this day ought to call themselves that!

Similarly to the scene with Legolas and Aragorn, the little bit with Legolas and Gimli as everyone's getting ready to leave Edoras was filmed separately because Orlando and John weren't in the country at the same time. So they filmed Legolas' shots with Brett, John's scale double, then filmed John's shots later, filming both of them against greenscreen. Then they took some unused footage from the Edoras set and put it in the background. It just boggles my mind how many of these cobbled-together scenes there are, because it feels so much like all the characters are together in the real location!

RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! They mentioned Beregond!!!! 8D When talking about why they put in the scene where Pippin and Faramir talk (when Faramir says the uniform Pippin's wearing was made for him when he was a child), in order to forge the connection between them that will ultimately lead to Pippin saving Faramir's life, they talked briefly about Beregond! They describe him taking Pippin under his wing, showing him about the city, and called the relationship between them "quite sweet" :3

Another little connection between Pippin and Faramir I don't think I've ever thought about before, that apparently Billy Boyd thought about when doing these scenes, is that Pippin is the only son of the Thain of the Shire, so there may have been a certain amount of pressure and expectation on him. Obviously, he's so young and probably didn't spend too much time worrying about that while scampering about the Shire, but maybe that's something he thinks about while watching the way Faramir and Denethor interact. Maybe a contrast to the way he would interact with his own father, maybe a reminder of the way he would be scolded? Hard to say, but it's interesting to think about.

Uuuuuuughghghg, so frustrating to listen to them talking about the scene on the steps where Frodo sends Sam away DX No matter how many times and how many different ways they explain why they did it, the explanations never quite make sense to me. "We needed there to be more tension." WHY WAS IT NOT TENSE ENOUGH THAT THEY WERE GOING INTO THE LAIR OF A HUGE EVIL SPIDER?! "There wasn't really anything happening on the steps otherwise." YEAH, BECAUSE YOU PUT THE WHOLE CONVERSATION ABOUT STORIES IN THE PREVIOUS MOVIE! Also, why not just cut from one or two shots of them climbing this awful staircase to a shot of them entering the cave? "There needed to be a payoff for Gollum's scheming." WHY WAS GOLLUM BETRAYING THEM TO SHELOB NOT ENOUGH OF A PAYOFF?! "We knew InStInCtIvElY that Frodo needed to enter the cave alone." WHY? WHY?! I've never understood that. They get separated eventually in the book, so why not just ramp up the tension of that in the movie, instead of making the characters so OOC? "We knew it would shock readers of the book, and if we'd changed that, what else might we have changed?" You know...I really, really love these movies, and I appreciate what these three were able to accomplish so much...but sometimes I kind of hate them too -_-

The horses didn't want to walk down the hill on the cobbled streets of Minas Tirith, because their steel shoes were so slippery on the stones. So they all had to be re-shod with rubber shoes. What were horseshoes made of back in ye olden days, though? Iron? Did people run into the same problems back then?

I never really noticed this before, but Aragorn never wears Anduril on his belt! He straps it to his horse, and every time you see him with it, he's just holding the naked blade. This is because they made Anduril so long it was really hard for him to wear it from his belt or to pull it out of the scabbard in a natural way XD

The aerial shot of all the Rohirrim leaving Dunharrow was originally shot to show Gandalf's cart heading into the Shire, but since they didn't use it for that, they repurposed it for RotK!

To get Elijah Wood to foam at the mouth when he's stung by Shelob, they gave him two Alka-Seltzer tablets to put in his mouth and work up some foam with his saliva. I've always wondered how they do that sort of thing in movies, but no one's bothered to explain until now....

Sean Astin's audition scene was holding Frodo after Shelob ;A; Apparently, they (or at least Philippa Boyens) were a little skeptical that an American actor would be able to do Sam's character right, but actually a lot of the English actors who auditioned for the role had a hard time with the Shelob aftermath scene, but Sean nailed it :')

Other than the close-ups, they used a dummy for Faramir on the pyre most of the time. Now I'm just imagining John Noble crouching on top of the pyre, cradling a dummy XD

The first Orc that Aragorn kills on Pelennor fields is played by his son Henry! XD

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. They actually filmed Sam pushing past the sort of psychic barrier of the Watchers at the gate of Cirith Ungol, but they didn't put it into the extended edition! I love that part. Like...I'm not even sure why, but I've always thought that was such a cool little detail, and I've always been a bit bummed it wasn't in the movie, though I was thrilled to see the actual Watchers at least there as a sort of homage. And all along, they'd actually filmed something for that after all and I never knew! :O

You know, I never thought about it before, but it makes sense that they had to replace the sky digitally in a lot of scenes in Mordor, because of course when they filmed it, the sky wasn't always completely cloudy, but Mordor needs to have a complete cloud cover at all times.

When Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens first saw the footage of Sam carrying Frodo up Mt. Doom, they sent a fax (lolol 1999/2000 technology) to Sean and Elijah. They made the first page look all formal and official, and then on the second page it just said, "You made us cry." :')

Andy Serkis refused to have Gollum stand on two feet until the scene in the Crack of Doom. There were a few times that PJ directed him to lurch onto his feet or something, but Andy wouldn't do it. He wanted to show the difference in Gollum physically when he has the Ring again. What a cool detail!

Originally, the whole part where Frodo's hanging off the ledge and Sam is begging him to reach for him happens after the Ring is destroyed. It's really interesting to consider the slight nuances of how different that would be. The final version makes it almost seem like the Ring is still calling to Frodo, like he wants to fall into the lava and join it, whereas originally it was more like "I've lost the Ring and now I have nothing left to live for."

PJ made a sweet comment in the scene where everyone bows to the four hobbits: "This is a moment where there's always a huge sniffle in the audience when the movie's going, and it's usually me." XD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! They shot scenes of what happens to the other characters when the hobbits return to the Shire! There is footage out there somewhere of what Legolas and Gimli do, what happens with Faramir and Eowyn!!!! ;aldkfjsd;fkldslfkjd 25th anniversary edition LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[slasherslittlesimp]

Paul Lahote- Unwanted Part 2

It's been quite a while since the day you suddenly disappeared. The Cullens have been beyond worried, minus Edward and Alice who both know that you're fine due to Alice's visions. And despite their many reassurances the others still can't help but to worry.

On the wolves side of things, everyone is worried about Paul. He hasn't been the same since the day that he imprinted on you. At first he was extremely hostile towards everyone, his fuse much shorter than usual as he snapped at everyone for everything. After a while he seemed to lose his energy, bags growing beneath his eyes as he failed to sleep knowing that his imprint wasn't near him. No matter how hard the wolf tries to reject the imprint, it doesn't work. He's stuck with you as his imprint, and no matter how much he wants to stay away from you, he knows it'll only get worse for him in the long run.

Part of him regrets rejecting his imprint. He knew absolutely nothing about you, yet he rejected you just because you're a leech. If he's being honest, his chest hurt quite a bit when he saw your reaction to hearing that he didn't want you. And watching you fight- watching you be pinned down to the ground unable to move- it made his chest hurt even worse. He hadn't even realized a warning growl had left him until he saw you suddenly become enraged. Paul knew that you were angry because of him.

And now you've been missing for weeks, and it's the day of the fight. Despite somewhat looking forward to tearing apart a bunch of newborn leeches, Paul couldn't properly focus during the fight. He still tried his best, tearing any newborns in his vicinity apart. Unfortunately, his distraction nearly cost him his life.

Just as a pair of arms wrapped around his ribs they were torn away. Turning in surprise, Paul finds himself staring at you- or well, your double. The wolf in him nearly wants to whine at your appearance, finding you to be looking rather rough as well. It's obvious the rejection has taken its toll on you as well. And despite wanting to approach, Paul turns his attention away to continue fighting with your double by his side.

The real you was elsewhere, watching the fight from afar. You came back simply for the fight, not wanting to abandon everyone. If anyone died while you were gone you knew you would blame yourself for not being there. In your absence, you've worked a lot on your newfound abilities, discovering what all you could do. Asides from making mimics of yourself, you could also use telekinesis. The day that you launched everyone away from you was an example of it.

And despite not wanting to, you couldn't help but to send your mimic to look after Paul. The entire time you were away from him was hell. You tried to stay positive by practicing your ability but it only helped so much. You still felt empty inside without him. Before when you were told about mates and such, you had wanted one desperately. You were amazed at the idea of having someone out there made specifically for you. Someone you would know without a doubt that you were meant to spend eternity with.

And then that mate rejected you.

Now you loathe the idea of soulmates. They were supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. Like the entire universe fell into place the second you saw them. And instead, yours was torn apart. The second those words fell from Edward's lips the idea of soulmates no longer seemed beautiful. They instead seemed like hell. I mean, who would want to forever be bonded to someone who hates them? Who doesn't want them?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you completely fail to notice a newborn creeping up behind you. The second their hand descends onto your shoulder you're screaming out in pain. It feels as if hot burning needles are traveling through your blood stream, your body writhing uncomfortably at the heat.

Your scream echoes across the battlefield alerting everyone to your situation. Paul is the first to react, trying his best to fight through a wall of newborns to reach you. Luckily for him, one of the other pack members manages to break through first, rushing to help you. The second the newborn is torn away from you, you collapse, barely able to move as you can still feel the lingering pain.

You feel completely out of it, unaware of your surroundings as your vision continuously blurs in and out of focus. You barely register someone kneeling in front of you, their hands cupping your cheeks as they beg you to stay awake. You simply groan in pain in response, closing your eyes as you will the uneasy feeling to go away.

By the time you open your eyes again you're back home resting on the couch in your bedroom. You barely manage to sit up before you're wrapped up in a tight hug, the feeling being oddly comforting to you.

"I was so worried." The persons voice sounds raspy as if they'd been crying. When they pull away, you're utterly surprised to find your mate in front of you, looking at you with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

After processing what he said, you lightly push him away, your brows furrowed in annoyance. "You have no right to worry about me."

"I'm sorry." He looks ashamed, looking down as he clasps your cold hands between his warm ones. "I know I have no right to worry about you after essentially rejecting you as my imprint. But, these past few weeks away from you have been hell. Is there any chance that we could start over? Act like we're only just meeting for the first time?"

You stare at him, debating mentally with yourself. Before making a decision, you reach up, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. He stares at you hopefully before his vision blurs. Using your ability, you look through his memories, seeing what he thought and how he felt ever since discovering you were his imprint. The pain. The regret. The blame. You see it all.

Satisfied, you pull away, allowing him to see you once again. Smiling softly, you hold out your hand. "It's nice to meet you. My name is (Y/N), what's yours?"

He practically beams as he takes your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Paul. My name's Paul."

After the introductions, you both spend the next few hours simply chatting, getting to know each other. And as the sun sets in the sky, Paul falls asleep in your lap, lying across the couch as you run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair.

And as you stare down at him peacefully sleeping you can't help but to think that maybe having a soulmate isn't so bad after all.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

re: your last post -- I think Dune is like. it's a tragedy because it was always going to end this way but it didn't necessarily have to come to that end in the way that it did. but it did. and maybe it *would* have anyway. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Yeah yeah yeah I reblogged that post specifically for the uncertainty bit because like. Was it always gonna end this way? We don't know. Yes the characters are trapped by circumstances set in motion thousands of years before they were born, but they also make choices within those circumstances and if they'd made a different choice here or there maybe things would have been different.

I've talked other places about the idea of Dune as a double-edged tragedy, one that Paul is both victim and cause of. I think in the book in particular, it's very easy to take Paul's subjective feeling that he has no choice, that the jihad is coming no matter what he does, and accept that as the objective truth. I think there are some things in the book that reinforce this, particularly the fact that the war just kind of starts without his direct input at the end of the book. And I think people who have read further in the book series tend to look at some of the stuff that comes up later with Leto II and the Golden Path and project that backwards onto Dune and say well Paul really didn't have a choice after all because in 5,000 years you'll see this was the only way to save humanity. But the idea of the Golden Path isn't present in Dune and it's not clear Frank Herbert had even thought of it at that point.

The Villeneuve movies do a lot to emphasize Paul's agency and the idea that it was his conscious choices that led us to where we are at the end of the movie--including the final choice, which is to actively declare war with "lead them to paradise." And I think the possibility that it didn't have to turn out this way is like...intrinsic to that half of the tragedy. That's the half of the tragedy that Paul causes, by choosing to use these people that he was supposed to be in solidarity with to secure his own personal power. For that tragedy to hit, you kind of have to believe that it didn't have to be this way, that another outcome could have been possible.

Like, what would have happened if Paul had gone to the south with everyone else but not drunk the Water of Life and not gone all Lisan al-Gaib at the war council? Who knows! We only see the set of choices that get made. Because part of Paul's motivation is revenge for the murder of his family, he summons the Emperor to Arrakis to hash out his personal beef. Because the Emperor shows up, the Harkonnens alert the other Great Houses who send warships to Arrakis. Because the Great Houses refuse to accept Paul as Emperor and their armies are right fuckin there, Paul has "no choice" but to strike first and start the war he was trying to avoid.

If Paul hadn't been in charge and the Fremen had decided on their own that now was the time to unite and attack Arrakeen and overthrow the Harkonnens, would things have been different? If they won, they would still find themselves in the same geopolitical trap, where they have what every imperialist power wants and now that they have thrown off their current colonial masters all the other Great Houses are eyeing Arrakis like free real estate. Is it possible to navigate this situation without a ""friendly"" imperialist power on your side? This is like, the eternal postcolonial question, and how it could get answered in this fictional universe is only limited by one's political imagination.

So there's that. But at the same time the movies are really good at evoking this sense of doom in that...sometimes you are trapped by historical events so over-determined that there is no way out; you just have to figure out how to survive them. (Which, shall we say, feels relevant!) Sometimes you are a teenager who didn't sign up for any of this shit and you just happen to be living at this massive historical inflection point where literal millennia of Fuck Around turns into Find Out and the entire order of the Known Universe collapses and realigns, and the movies do a good job of capturing just how much that can fucking suck. And they do it in this way that's not excusing or justifying the awful things Paul ends up doing but still has compassion about the shit situation he's in. Something something men make history but not in circumstances of their own choosing and sometimes the circumstances are just gonna Get You. That's the tragedy that Paul is a victim of.

I am super super curious to see how this is all gonna play out in Dune Messiah. Because for a lot of the beginning of Messiah, Paul is very "woe is me there is simply nothing I can do about this galaxy-destroying war that I have unleashed, due to the power of my own myth it is out of my control." And reading the book, the whole time I was like is it though. Is it really Paul?? Those warships don't refuel themselves. Someone is giving the orders. Someone is writing the checks. And especially with Denis saying that Messiah will be about Paul trying to "save his soul," I cannot wait to see how these ideas play out.

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇ ☉ ∇

"Songbird on a Wall" Pt.7

pt.1 here

pt.2 here

pt.3 here

pt.4 here

pt.5 here

pt.6 here

[ tw for descriptions of death, injuries, gore, and canon-typical violence, as well as foul language ]

The incessant sound of assault weapons pattered in the distance, coupled with a resounding mortar blast every few minutes.

Caesar had gotten into contact with a captain hard-pressed under enemy fire, and had sidetracked the Rangers team to go assist. Forty minutes and a firefight later, Cullens was tending to the wounded Marines while Toad made rounds among the bodies of the fallen to ensure that any surviving hostiles were put down. Paul scouted ahead, as usual, and brought Casper along with him.

“Keep your eyes open, Lance Corporal,” Paul warned, his gun at the ready. “We’re near the thick of it. If you let your guard down, you’ll get us both killed.” “Da, sir. I know.” “A bit of a reminder never hurts, aye?” Casper nodded. He had only been with the team for about a year and a half now, and he was still a bit trigger-happy and jumpy on the field. Two habits he would have to be broken of.

Paul saw a flash of movement, and instantly raised a fist to signal a halt for Casper, who raised his gun with quivering hands.

“Sergeant? What is it?” “Quiet, Casper.” “Izvini, sir.” Paul scanned the area. He had fallen into a crouch, and now crept along the edge of one of the war-ravaged buildings. He kept Casper safely behind him, unwilling to put the Lance Corporal anywhere near harm’s way. There was a soft scuffling noise. Paul narrowed in on the sound. There was a bloodsoaked woman in Marine green struggling to limp through the wreckage. Paul whistled sharply. “Sergeant Mander of Strike Team Delta calling for you to identify yourself, Marine.” The Marine swiveled sharply. Her haggard face split into a crooked grin. “Sergeant Dua of Tango Squad Eight. Bloody good to see a friendly face, Ranger.” Paul nodded at the way Dua kept her left arm tucked inwards. “You injured?”

“I’m not a medic. But yeah.” “You don’t need to be a medic; we’ve got one back with my team. Where’s the rest of Tango Squad?” “All dead. Damn renegades wiped us out like a plague.” “Sorry to hear that, Marine. But you’ll live to fight another day. Fall into line.”

Casper offered the crook of his elbow for Dua to lean against as she limped along beside them. Paul led the trio back to where Cullen was stitching up the back of a Marine caught by a piece of shrapnel. The medic glanced up, took note of Dua’s wounded arm, and gave a low grunt of annoyance at how swamped he was. “Priority first. I’ve still got five others to tend to. Keep pressure on it and find a seat.”

Paul left Dua to wait with Casper, going to find Caesar instead. He saluted. “Sir. Casper and I have made sure that the area is secure.”

Caesar patted the Scouser firmly on the back. “Good work, son. Any snags?” “No, sir. No contact made and no sign of the enemy.” “Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. The Marines here are waiting f’ medevac. Those that can still fight will push onwards to clear out the rest of the rebels. Our work here t’ain’t done, not by a long shot.”

“Affirmative, sir. Should I have the team ready to move out?” “Aye, best. Tell Nokia to get her arse over ‘ere. I need to talk to her.” Paul saluted again. “Yes, sir.” “Dismissed.” Paul trotted off, gathering Toad, McKay, and Casper and ordering them to get ready to move at a moment’s notice. On his way, he alerted Nokia that the Captain wished to speak with her, and then he doubled back to Cullens to see if there was anything he could assist with.

Cullens was streaked with blood, his shirt soaked through with sweat as the sun beat down on his makeshift workspace. There was a half-conscious young Marine with a fractured femur and a bullet hole in his side laid out on a relatively even slab of stone. The wounded soldier was whimpering softly in pain.

“Keep him still,” Cullens ordered as he prodded at the bullet wound. The Marine tried to recoil, but Paul held him down tightly. “Easy, mate. You’re alright,” Paul murmured. “First time being shot?” “Y-yeah,” replied the Marine, his voice weak and frightened.

Paul nodded understandingly. “It sucks, I know. But at least you’ll finally have a scar to show off to your mates, aye?” The Marine gave a noise that was half a laugh and half a grimace. “I g-guess so, yeah. Maybe they’ll finally stop calling me a rookie now.” Paul chuckled. “Nah, mate, I doubt it. Good to be optimistic, though. What’s your name, Marine?” “J-Jack. You?” “Paul. Good to meet you. Got a family back home?” “Yeah, mum and dad. Grandparents. Younger sister.” “Lucky man.” Paul nodded appreciatively. “Bet they’ll be pretty surprised when they hear about this.”

Jack’s lips twitched into a grin. “My mum is gonna be mad as hell.” Paul’s eyes flickered with something that might have been grief or maybe even envy. “Lucky man,” he repeated a bit more quietly. Jack didn’t notice, as Cullens began to stitch up his side and the Marine finally fainted from the pain.

“Wuss,” said Cullen.

*  *  *

Sixteen hours later, it was just after dawn. The Rangers were running on fumes, having gotten only brief respites to nod off before they were jerked back to reality with further orders over the radio. They were all flagging, but the sharp bark of commands from Caesar kept them on their toes. When one of them flagged, Nokia acted as a herding dog, forcing them onwards as per the Captain’s demanding pace. They had moved from location to location, providing cover fire for the Marines when they could. The enemy numbers were dwindling, and most of the renegades were being pushed back. There were casualties on the side of the British forces, of course, but so far, the Rangers team had remained unscathed, much to Cullen’s disappointment. The man really was a bit bloodthirsty, but the team supposed that was what they got for naming him after a vampire.

“I’m tired,” McKay whinged as they trudged through the carnage of the latest battlefield. The Private was dragging her feet, despite the rest of the team being just as tired, if not more exhausted than she was. She had done little more than the bare minimum required by her orders.

“And I’m hungry,” Casper added softly. He didn’t often complain, but McKay’s whining was apparently affecting the overall morale. Toad tossed him a package of crackers. “Good thing I brought extras.”

“We don’t have time to eat,” Caesar said gruffly. “Put th’ crackers away, son. We’re heading to a safehouse four klicks from here. Paul, ye en-pointe. Scout ahead.”

“Yes, sir.” Paul immediately took the frontal position, slinging his gun free from his shoulder and loading a fresh clip of ammo in, flipping the safety off. Casper moved to join him, but Paul put a hand out, gesturing for him to remain in his usual place at the center of their travel formation, paired up with Drainpipe.

“McKay, take the rear guard,” Paul ordered. “You need to experience. Keep your eyes open and your nose to the wind, aye?” “Aye, sir,” McKay groused, falling back to the rear of the formation. She was clearly not happy about having to do more than walk.

Caesar gave Paul a gruff nod of approval as he passed by. The Captain had been subtly setting the Scouser up for a promotion and leadership position for years now, and Paul was well on his way to being qualified.

Paul returned the nod. His honed grey eyes scanned over the area as the team marched forward towards the safehouse.

They crept through a scraggly woodland and then into yet another abandoned village that looked like the Middle Eastern version of a Wild West ghost town. Paul wasn’t fond of picking his way through the dilapidated buildings– too many things moved and made noise. There were always rats and sometimes feral dogs roaming in the shadows. Carrion birds followed the team as hungry tagalongs, just waiting for a chance at a meal.

Somehow, Paul couldn’t shake the feeling that this just was not the way they should be going. He dropped back to murmur in Caesar’s ear. “Captain, I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

Caesar eyed the Sergeant. “Gut feeling, son?”

“Aye, sir.” Caesar dipped his head. “We’ll go around, then. I trust ye instincts.”

Paul gave a small nod. The tightness that had been growing in his chest eased. “I’ll head left, then. Scout out the path a bit.”

“Good lad. Get on wi’ it, then.”

Paul trotted forward again, on high alert. He glanced back to ensure that McKay was still loitering at the end of their line of formation. He wanted to go back and switch her out with Toad, who was more reliable, but he was already quite a bit ahead and it would look odd of him to retrace his steps now.

Paul turned the corner of a rundown factory and was nearly to the next cobbled street when he heard the quiet discharge of a rifle with a silencer on. The sound would have been inaudible to just about anyone else but Paul, who had first been suggested for pointman in his rookie days for his keen hearing.

The sound was followed by the thud of a heavy body hitting the ground. Paul’s blood ran cold. None of the Ranger’s rifles had silencers on them.

Approximately three point two five seconds later, Drainpipe screamed “Contact!” and all hell broke loose.

Paul was sprinting before he even processed the rapid thud of gunfire as the Rangers sighted the sniper on the roof and returned fire. The Scouser was halfway back around the side of the long building when the ambush swooped in on the team from the back and fired an 81mm mortar bomb down on them.

The following explosion blew a crater where Nokia and Casper had been standing. Even the tank-like lieutenant could not survive the radial blast of shrapnel and fire that engulfed her, and Casper, hand flying to his crucifix, only had time to make one choked noise before his world became one of flames.

J. M. was thrown backwards and hit the wall with a sickening crunch that broke his back. He crumpled to the ground and did not rise. A chunk of white-hot metal sliced through Cullen’s skull like it was made of putty. Blood sprayed the air.

McKay shrieked as she realized what was happening. She broke into a stumbling run, apparently deciding to flee instead of avenging her fallen teammates. A bullet clipped her in the shoulder and brought her down for one of the masked renegades to pick off at their leisure. She didn’t even attempt to grab her sidearm.

Toad, though, didn’t have a bone of self-preservation in his body. He hollered out a war cry and pumped out devastatingly accurate rounds from his shotgun that riddled two of the hostiles with holes and had another cursing and ducking for cover before Paul finally reached the scene.

Paul tackled Toad to the ground, saving his head from being imploded by a grenade that sailed above the pair, bounced into a ditch, and went off with a harmless boom.

“Let go of me! Let me at ‘em! I’ll send those bastards to the gates of Hell myself!” Toad was thrashing and howling like a man possessed, eyes gone red with the fury of battle. He threw Paul off of him and stood in time to catch three bullets to the gut as the hostile he had wounded with his shotgun recovered enough to enact his vengeance. Paul fired his sidearm in a quick burst and the rebel went down for good.

Toad slumped down against Paul, clutching his bloodied stomach. He was gasping out curses. Paul dragged his friend behind the factory, trying to avoid Toad’s kicking legs. “Texley, stop it!”

The use of his first name seemed to snap Toad out of his blind rage. He looked down at his stomach as if seeing the wounds for the first time.

When he spoke, there was a note of creeping fear in his voice. “Oh, shit, Paul. He shot me.”

Paul was already stripping off his jacket, tying it tightly around Toad’s waist while desperately trying to keep a watch around them, knowing that enemy forces could swarm them at any time out in the open. “Easy, Tex. You’re okay. Deep breaths, in and out. You’ve handled worse than this, yeah? You toughed out post top surgery pain without any OTC meds because you were a stubborn bastard, remember? Come on, we have to get you to cover; we’re sitting ducks out here.” The Scouser slung Toad’s arm over his shoulders and half-helped, half-hauled him up. Together, they hobbled over to the nearest crumbling wall of the factory and ducked inside. Toad groaned softly as Paul eased him down.

Paul clicked on his radio. “This is Jericho Four to Jericho One, do you copy? Permission to request a medevac?”

There was no answer from Caesar. Paul swallowed hard and tried again. “Jericho Four to Jericho One, I repeat, do you copy?”

Static. Toad shook his head, his face screwed up in pain. “Sniper got him.”

Paul’s expression pinched. He viewed the hard-arsed, battle-grizzled captain as a father. “Bloody hell. This was his last mission before retirement.” He shook his head. “I’m going back out there. I have to find him. No way some damn sniper took down our Caesar.”

Toad gripped Paul’s arm. “Paul, you can’t–” “I have a duty, Toad. Stay here. That’s an order.”

Toad almost looked hurt. It was rare that Paul ever pulled rank on him. But the fact remained that the Scouser was, in fact, a Sergeant, while Toad was still a Corporal. Toad gave a curt nod, his pride severely cut. “Aye, then. I’ll watch your six from here.”

“Request medevac. You need attention.” “Will do.”

Paul switched back to his automatic, fed a fresh clip into the gun, and crept back to the opening of the wall. His hands shook, but he could not afford to address the fear that pounded in his chest.

The area looked clear, but he knew very well that appearances could be deceiving. They had just been ambushed on a seemingly abandoned road.

Paul stepped out into the open, tensed, and when the bullets he half-expected did not come, relaxed marginally. He peeked around the corner, saw the carnage, and nearly was sick. Pieces of Nokia and Casper lay strewn across the hard-packed earth. Flies were already finding the chunks of burnt flesh. J.M. was closest, so Paul made a move for him. The Spaniard was bent at an unnatural angle. “Joseph,” Paul whispered hoarsely, dropping to his knees beside him. He gingerly turned the corpse over. Joseph’s face was slackened of its usual deep creases. “Oh, mate… no.”

Paul knew that, rationally, Joseph had felt no pain. He had died instantaneously upon impact. But that was little comfort when one’s friend was dead and would be so permanently, forever.

Paul felt wetness on his cheeks and realized that he was crying. He wiped furiously at his eyes with his gloved hand. The acrid reek of gunpowder hung heavy in the air.

“Prehľadajte okolie! Máme prevziať kontrolu nad týmto mestom a čakať na ďalšie pokyny.”

Paul’s head snapped up, and he immediately dove back for the cover of the wall entrance. Enemy reinforcements had arrived, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where they were coming from. Somewhere to the right, taking the path that the Rangers had before the ambush. Sharp commands were being snapped out, clearly not in English nor in any Middle Eastern language. Having spent the last several years in the Czech Republic, Paul managed to recognize it as Slovak, though he understood only the word “orders.”

Was it possible that these men had been sent after the Ranger not as enemies, but as a rescue team? Paul immediately dismissed the idea— they were there far too soon to have received a distress signal from Toad, who was still fumbling with the radio. And as far as Paul had been informed, there were no Slovak troops on the ground here.

Which meant that these men were threats. And threats were to be eliminated.

[ note: there may be various inaccuracies in this fic surrounding military jargon/slang/terms ( i did my best ) ]

Disclaimer:

The author’s choice of enemy soldier’s nationalities and/or languages is of no way an allusion to real-life conflicts or views about such conflicts, nor a result of any form of prejudice on the author’s part.

[fiftysevenacademics]

The Getty Villa, the museum built by oil tycoon J. Paul Getty and home to thousands of priceless antiquities, activated its emergency operations center in response to the fast-moving Palisades fire at 10:40 a.m. Tuesday. At 11:44 a.m., fire could be seen over the ridge, less than one mile away. By 12:27, flames had reached the property.

Fast-moving, wildly unpredictable and catastrophic in the damage it caused along a vast swath of prime coastline, the Palisades fire ultimately spared the Villa and its more than 44,000 objects, including many Roman, Greek and Etruscan relics dating from 6500 BC to AD 400.

J. Paul Getty Trust President and Chief Executive Katherine E. Fleming described for The Times the scene on the ground and how she and her staff worked from a conference center-turned-war room at the Getty Center in Brentwood, about 10 miles away — all while 16 staff members remained at the Villa to implement emergency protocols.

“We did get lucky in some ways, and people were rushing around,” Fleming said in an interview Wednesday evening after the most immediate danger had passed. “But there were also a lot of people who were really thoughtful about this over a long period of time, and I think that clearly paid off for us.”

Extensive brush-clearing over the last year, Fleming said, had been completed with the knowledge that fire is a way of life in Los Angeles, and that the region’s frequent periods of drought made a massively destructive fire inevitable. The museum had already pruned landscaping that might catch fire and made sure tree canopies were high off the ground. Low-lying brush had been significantly thinned. The grounds were irrigated Tuesday morning.

Fleming offered a riveting play-by-play of the day’s events. The staff members who remained at the Villa worked in emergency response, facilities, security and communications — each highly trained in emergency preparations. When the fire broke out, the biggest concern was protecting the collections from the damaging effects of smoke. The double-walled construction of the galleries provided significant protection, and at 10:45 a.m., the dampers — small valves that regulate airflow in a building’s HVAC system — were turned off, as was the air conditioning. The staff still smelled smoke, so the museum doors were sealed at 11:04 a.m. The smoke became overwhelming by 11:15, and at 11:20 the staff was sent an email alerting them that the Villa was closing.

About 20 minutes later, security swept the grounds to make sure only emergency staff was on site. Heat from the fire caused several cameras to fail to reboot. Ten minutes later, an aerial fire crew dropped water over the Villa’s ranch house, which Fleming said is at the perimeter of the property and most vulnerable to fire. (The ranch house was J. Paul Getty’s original residence and was not built with the same fire-resistant construction as the Villa.)

Fleming noted that communication between the two sites was difficult. Villa employees’ radios stopped transmitting when they were more than 100 feet away from one another. That meant staff in the Getty command center in Brentwood — about 15 people in total, sitting at a large conference table — had to relay pertinent information to each staffer at the Villa.

“We have cameras on pretty much every single conceivable part of the Villa property that you can zoom in with great specificity,” Fleming said. “There were instances where we would know something and have to relay it back to someone at the Villa.”

Over the course of the day and night, Fleming said, “we had all kinds of live video feed coming to us up at the Getty Center from the Villa.” When accumulating ash prevented the water from draining in the parking structure, a staff member was deployed to clear it.

At around 2:40 p.m., Fleming said, the perimeter wall behind the restaurant was in flames. Then, at close to 3:15 p.m., bushes directly above the outdoor classical theater caught fire. This was probably Fleming’s biggest moment of panic during the whole ordeal, she said, adding that it was “a total red herring.”

The fire came from a plant bed filled with rosemary.

“And lo and behold, just like if you sprinkle a bunch of rosemary on a pizza and put it under the broiler and it crackles and sparkles, and then very rapidly goes out,” Fleming said. “That happens ... and for someone like me, who doesn’t know a lot about how fires work, it looked really bright and fiery for a few moments.”

The wall flames died down on their own, but at 3:59 p.m., fire erupted at the museum’s pedestrian gate. Getty security put out the blaze with fire extinguishers in just six minutes. The Palisades fire grew large enough for staff at the Getty Center in Brentwood to see the flames by 5 p.m. At 6 p.m., museum officials made the decision to close that campus to help alleviate traffic in the area.

People on social media and news sites may have seen images of flames whipping next to a structure by the Getty Villa sign on Pacific Coast Highway. That structure was not the museum but rather Villa de Leon, a 35-room Italian Revival mansion that’s not affiliated with the museum.

Villa teams continued to monitor the fire threat throughout the night, and for now the Villa appears to be safe.

“A lot of what there was to burn has burned. The rosemary is gone. The low-level vegetation is gone,” said Fleming, who added that she was too superstitious to say the danger had completely passed.

[michiko-museum]

Inside the dash to save the Getty Villa from the Palisades fire: a timeline

"The Getty Villa, the museum built by oil tycoon J. Paul Getty and home to thousands of priceless antiquities, activated its emergency operations center in response to the fast-moving Palisades fire at 10:40 a.m. Tuesday. At 11:44 a.m., fire could be seen over the ridge, less than one mile away. By 12:27, flames had reached the property.

Fast-moving, wildly unpredictable and catastrophic in the damage it caused along a vast swath of prime coastline, the Palisades fire ultimately spared the Villa and its more than 44,000 objects, including many Roman, Greek and Etruscan relics dating from 6500 BC to AD 400.

J. Paul Getty Trust President and Chief Executive Katherine E. Fleming described for The Times the scene on the ground and how she and her staff worked from a conference center-turned-war room at the Getty Center in Brentwood, about 10 miles away — all while 16 staff members remained at the Villa to implement emergency protocols...

...Fleming offered a riveting play-by-play of the day’s events. The staff members who remained at the Villa worked in emergency response, facilities, security and communications — each highly trained in emergency preparations. When the fire broke out, the biggest concern was protecting the collections from the damaging effects of smoke. The double-walled construction of the galleries provided significant protection, and at 10:45 a.m., the dampers — small valves that regulate airflow in a building’s HVAC system — were turned off, as was the air conditioning. The staff still smelled smoke, so the museum doors were sealed at 11:04 a.m. The smoke became overwhelming by 11:15, and at 11:20 the staff was sent an email alerting them that the Villa was closing..." Keep Reading

[usafphantom2]

“The left afterburner technique” and SR-71 special problems: here’s what made Blackbird air refueling challenging

The KC-135Q tanker

It’s impossible to overemphasise the essential role played by the KC-135Q tanker crews, without whom successful prosecution of the SR-71 Blackbird mission would have been impossible. As told by Paul F Crickmore in his book Lockheed Blackbird: Beyond the Secret Missions (Revised Edition), it became apparent to Strategic Air Command (SAC) that the tanker force dedicated to supporting SR-71 operations would need to be expanded beyond the original 21 Q-model aircraft and in 1967 the decision was made to modify an additional 35 aircraft. Some 20 KC-135As from the 70th AREFS, 43rd BW at Little Rock AFB, Arkansas, and 15 from the 306th AREFS, 306th BW at McCoy AFB, Florida were therefore converted.

SR-71 T-Shirts

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

As told by Col. Richard H. Graham, a former Blackbird pilot, in his book SR-71 The Complete Illustrated History of THE BLACKBIRD The World’s Highest, Fastest Plane, KC-135Q crews and their aircraft were unique from the rest of the Air Force in several ways. Their aircrews in fact were the only one certified in Blackbird’s specific radio-silent rendezvous procedures, and their boom operators were the only ones qualified to refuel the SR-71.

SR-71 Blackbird air refueling

The Q-model tankers had special plumbing between their fuel tanks, allowing them to transfer JP-4 and JP-7 fuel between various tanks. Their engine could burn transfer JP-4 or JP-7 fuel. If the SR-71 landed somewhere JP-7 fuel was not available, the Q-model tankers flew in with the fuel and, through the use of transfer hoses on the ground, were able to refuel the SR-71. One of the best advantages of flying the Q-model tankers is that their crews did not have to be on twenty-four-hour alert status like the rest of the SAC’s tankers’ crew members.

No story on the SR-71 would be complete without an understanding and appreciation of just how valuable the KC-135Q model tankers and their crews were to the successful and safe completion of every mission.

The SR-71, needed to be refueled approximately every hour. Refueling was tricky, but SR-71 pilots were always up to the challenge.

The Unknown Story of the SR-71 Blackbird that was saved by a Tanker after a Double-Engine Flameout over Northern Laos

Usually, refueling was the first thing that they did after takeoff. Under some circumstances, while flying from Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa, they would take off with enough fuel for the entire mission.

Graham recalls;

“No refueling necessary it was called a Yo-Yo. But this was a maintenance nightmare. A few of our missions required the SR-71 to accelerate to Mach 3+ right after takeoff with a 65,000-pound fuel load. The Yo-Yo procedure had the crew chief completely refuel the plane to full tanks of 80,000 pounds of fuel. Then, with the nitrogen pressurization system working, they de-fueled 15,000 pounds of JP-7, ending up with a 65,000-pound fuel load and a plane that was capable of going immediately to Mach 3+.”

SR-71 Blackbird air refueling special problems

As explained by Aloysius G. Casey and Patrick A. Casey in their book Velocity Speed with Direction The Professional Career of Gen Jerome F. O’Malley, refueling presented special problems: visibility was poor due to the triangular forward window, and the helmet associated with the pressure suit caused undesired reflections. The receptacle (which received the fuel) was aft of the cockpit; therefore, the SR-71 had to fly underneath the tanker. Normally, one would take on about 70,000 pounds or 11,000 gallons of JP7 fuel.

SR-71 print

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird 61-7972 “Skunkworks”

Typically, refueling took place at about 25,000 feet. As the weight increased and the air speed had to be held down to accommodate the slower tanker, the aircraft became thrust-limited; that is, drag increased as it approached the stall speed for this unique aircraft (there was no additional thrust available without afterburner). At that point, the pilot had to move one throttle slightly into the afterburner range to hold position.

The left afterburner technique

Using one afterburner required the pilot to counter the asymmetry with rudder or just tolerate some sideways flight. Interestingly, the pilots developed the left afterburner technique so the aircraft would yaw slightly to the right. This way, only the left quarter panel had defogged air, and one could get that benefit if needed. Refueling was an intense effort for the pilot and was required two to four times for each mission.

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter X Page Habubrats SR-71 and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

[machinesonix]

Holy shit folks Leto Atredies was not holding it together by the end there. Shortly before the Harkonnens make their move in the novel the Atredies host a dinner for some of their financial accomplices, and the dude gets sloppy. Like we gotta get a petition together to make Oscar Isaac do a script read here.

So dude's stressed. The writing is on the wall that the Harkonnens are gonna blow up his family and rescuing the crew of that spice crawler like we see in the movie has got him on high alert for saboteurs.  He starts off the shindig by pissing everyone off and giving away the customary party wash basin away to the poor. The water sellers don't like the precedent he's setting and even the serving lady is upset she's not gonna get the chance to sell second hand dirty water after the fact. There's some real tense back-and-forth because a couple of the guests keep flexing their wealth to show their host what they think of his generosity.

So Leto does what any reasonable person would do and dumps his glass out on the ground and insists everyone in attendance do the same. In one action things have gone from ‘double-layered banter’ to ‘its my party and I can force everyone to commit class warfare if I want to.’ Like I guess the subtext here is these guys are bragging about controlling the water and thus the power on Arrakis and Leto is going ‘control deez nuts,’ but for such a philanthropic dude it sure is the sort of gesture that gets the attention of Madame Guillotine. 

So then he dips from the party to go handle some statecraft and leaves Paul to host the dinner. Herbert doesn't say it, but at this point I'm pretty sure the Duke is flipping double middle fingers and making fart sounds with his mouth while making the most aggressive sort of eye contact with the bankers. These are the actions of man who is verbally insisting how not drunk he is. The point of the scene is that shit is getting bad in the Atredies household because of all the paranoia, but like imagine actual people going through these motions. Everybody's sitting awkwardly in this communal shame-puddle and then the guy who made everyone do it is like ‘Welp, that's it for me. Everybody, my fifteen year old son is king of the planet in the meantime.’ Film it. We're a couple movies in, but Dennis Villenueve if you're reading this, you and I both know what has to be done.

[darkmaga-returns]

News alert: Washington Post journalists are panicked that some DOGE employees previously worked at Elon Musk's private-sector companies and "are in their early 20s."

The horror.

Outrage over Musk's whiz kids reveals another progressive double standard: Young activists are praised when they are on the Left and denounced when they join the Right.

The Post, moreover, is blind to the real story. Trump may be the oldest man elected president, but he leads a youth movement that will shape politics for decades to come.

Trump shattered the cliché that Republicans are the party of seniors and Democrats the party of young people. And he's staffing his administration with men and women who will form the next GOP governing class.

The Beltway is only beginning to grasp the implications. Young people not only define the cultural landscape. They carry the political categories they learn in their 20s for the rest of their lives.

Such is the power of youth that even losing candidates who win over young people have lasting influence. The young people who worked on George McGovern's 1972 presidential campaign, such as Bill and Hillary Clinton, were the liberal future.

Ron Paul's collegiate supporters in 2008 and 2012 previewed the anti-Establishment, anti-war GOP. And Bernie Sanders's bros and girls in 2016 and 2020 pointed toward the Democrats' coming lurch to the Left.

[blcssom]

after what feels like YEARS i've finally finished the muse page built into my theme (u can find a less fun/detailed list of my new muses here too) which means it's time for a STARTER CALL : ' )))

below the cut are my new muses and a lil bit abt them !! like this and i'll throw you a few starters with my new/rebranded babies !! note: i'll likely slide in your dms to ask if there's anyone in particular you're interested in <3

abigail hyland || twenty9 - waitress/folk singer // bisexual // margaret qualley

mean trailer park queen trying to bury her white trash roots and fear of abandonment !!!

catherine meyer || forty3 - interior designer // bisexual // jessica chastain

walking cleanliness complex who holds herself and everyone else around her to impossibly high standards

daphne barlowe || thirty3 - art curator // bisexual // meghann fahy

trust fund baby who resents her upbringing but not enough to stop living off of their money altogether O:)

ines morreno || twenty5 - bottle girl (succubus au) // bisexual // camila morrone

literal demon (if u so choose) who goes through men faster than she goes through singles on a busy night at the club

josie tanaka || twenty7 - vet tech // bisexual // fivel stewart

likes animals more than she likes ANY human but is willing to forego judgement until you share a blunt w/ her and she can suss out the vibe

lydia xiao || twenty5 - classical violinist // bisexual // havana rose liu

sheltered princess strikes out on her own !!! as much as you can when you're auditioning to join the met :' )

maeve willis || twenty8 - assistant choreographer // bisexual // taylor russell

people pleaser w/ the memory of a goldfish !!! REALLY wants to do a good job but REALLY can't say no when someone invites her out either so... c'est la vie

rosie burton || thirty2 - florist (royal au) // bisexual // laura harrier

classic oldest child mother to all but lacking a caretaker herself but that's !! fine !! she's fine !!

sylvie bane || twenty4 - social media influencer // bisexual // lily rose depp

party princess desperate to prove she can make it w/ out daddy's money or a rich s/o (spoiler alert: she can't xx)

taylor corbyn || twenty3 - drummer // homosexual // reneé rapp

GAY and way more confident abt it until she actually has to act !! queen of talking a big game and absolutely blowing it after that

beau crawford || twenty7 - phys ed teacher // bisexual // mason gooding

just a big ole puppy witfh too much energy not even a day of back-to-back p.e. classes can burn it off !! good vibes only except when he doesn't get what he wants :o

dominic hyland || thirty - dj/bartender // bisexual // nicholas galitzine

chasing down his abandonment issues with straight gin and pretending it's fine !!! absolutely not running from his own traumatic past why would u ask that

ezra bhatti || thirty8 - tattoo artist // bisexual // rahul kohli

v chill v calm v antisocial and yet always somehow at the center of all the action !! unbearable know it all that's probably why he just HAD to correct someone

hugo danaher || twenty9 - firefighter // bisexual // paul mescal

reckless physically and emotionally always falling in love and always running into burning buildings w/out thinking twice

jace warren || twenty8 - mechanic // bisexual // nick robinson

basically raised seven siblings in a double wide when his parents bailed and he's TIRED now v responsible but also v apathetic deadly combo

jacob park || thirty3 - newspaper editor // bisexual // charles melton

perfectionist who keeps succeeding but the bar is just getting higher and he's !! nervous !! golden child of his family and they're banking on his success no pressure

miguel avila || forty4 - literary agent (vampire au) // bisexual // oscar isaac

functioning alcoholic who soothes whiny writers all day he's doing GREAT !! failed (in his own mind) writer who's helping others live out their dreams yay

oliver kothari || thirty5 - pediatrician // bisexual // dev patel

came across the pond to escape his mother but she just followed him here so... constantly being the perfect boy but v lonely up on his pedastal

reid whittman || thirty4 - fashion photographer // bisexual // callum turner

party boy photographer living his bachelor dream even tho it isn't !! actually his dream but it's what he's good at so .... luvs being the fun uncle his TRUE calling

thomas thorne || forty2 - novelist (pirate au) // bisexual // michiel huisman

dramatic nervous king prone to rambling on about his ideas but then never actually following thru with them :' )

[docrotten]

THE HOUSE OF SEVEN CORPSES (1974) – Episode 228 – Decades of Horror 1970s

“Cut it. Cut it, cut! I said you were supposed to be going into a trance, not an orgasm. Let’s try it again with a little more restraint this time. That’s today’s secret word. Restraint!” Well, you’re no fun anymore. Join your faithful Grue Crew – Doc Rotten, Bill Mulligan, Chad Hunt, and Jeff Mohr – as they try to figure out what is going on in The House of Seven Corpses (1974).

Decades of Horror 1970s Episode 228 – The House of Seven Corpses (1974)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

Decades of Horror 1970s is partnering with the WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL (https://wickedhorrortv.com/) which now includes video episodes of the podcast and is available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, and its online website across all OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop.

Synopsis: A movie is filming on location in a house where seven occult-related murders were committed. The caretaker warns them not to mess with things they don’t understand, but rituals are reenacted anyway, that summon a ghoul from the nearby cemetery. Ghoulish shenanigans ensue.

Directed by: Paul Harrison

Writing Credits: Paul Harrison and Thomas J. Kelly

Selected Cast:

John Ireland as Eric Hartman

Faith Domergue as Gayle Dorian

John Carradine as Edgar Price

Carole Wells as Anne (as Carol Wells)

Charles Macaulay as Christopher Millan

Jerry Strickler as David

Ron Foreman as Ron

Dennis Record as Tommy (as Larry Record)

Marty Hornstein as Danny

Charles Bail as Jonathon Anthony Beal / Theodore Beal

Lucy Doheny as Suzanne Beal

Jo Anne Mower as Allison Beal

Ronald Víctor García as Charles Beal (as Ron Garcia)

Jeff Alexander as Russell Beal

Wells Bond as The Ghoul

Laurie Bartram as Debbie (uncredited)

This episode, John Carradine, John Ireland, and Faith Domergue are making a movie in The House of Seven Corpses (1974). A couple of shambling ghouls – or are they zombies – make an entrance when they receive engraved invitations from the filmmakers. Or rather, rituals from the Tibetan Book of the Dead are performed as part of the movie being filmed. Surprise! Mayhem ensues as the cast and crew start dropping like flies, their demises mimicking those of the original occupants of the titular house. The House of Seven Corpses is not a great movie, or even a good movie, but there are some effective scenes, and the 70s Grue-Crew show some love for Faith and the two Johns.

At the time of this writing, The House of Seven Corpses (1974) is available to stream from Vudu, Tubi, Screambox, and PPV sources. The film is available as physical media on a standard Blu-ray formatted disc from Severin Films.

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror 1970s is part of the Decades of Horror two-week rotation with The Classic Era and the 1980s. In two weeks, the next episode, chosen by Bill, will be Equinox (1970). The 70s Grue Crew covered this film in episode 124, released September 2000. This time, we’ll be joined by special effects artist Jeff Farley, one of the film’s biggest fans. This will definitely be worth the double tap!

We want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: comment on the site or email the Decades of Horror 1970s podcast hosts at feedback@gruesomemagazine.com.

Check out this episode!

[mickf1loverf2too]

The "logical reason" is that often given is that Mercedes prefers only having one junior in every category so they can "focus" on each driver, which seems like a really good idea. (But they never really did anything for Paul Aron in F3 though, if you look at everything they were doing outside of racing with Kimi and Fred). Mercedes has invested so much money and talked up Antonelli so much that if they chose to prioritize Aron over him and send Kimi to F3 instead of F2 they would look really bad if he performed (like he is now) and they didn't give him the F1 seat (I'm convinced they have known that Lewis is leaving for awhile and basically forced him out). Then continuing on this hypothetical, Paul gets the seat preforms extremely well, while Kimi is in F2 and takes the title that I think he would have if given the right development. Then you sack Paul for Kimi so your golden boy doesn't go to waste? Because no other seat is going to take a Merc junior at this point, they all are focused on themselves. They would look really bad doing this. It's basically just Mercedes (Toto) trying not to look bad on the F1 front. Doing it now minimizes the amount of press covering it and fans who know what is happening. I'm convinced Toto almost has a stroke everytime F2 commentators mention he is a former Merc jr. Sorry if that made no sense.

With Ollie, I think he has deserved his FP1s given his performance last year and his debut with Ferrari. Something is slightly fishy in the difference between him and Kimi's performance, but I don't think people want to talk about that. But I think it should also be said that Preme is suffering dominance wise in all categories. They have lost a few really good engineers (some the F1 some to other teams) and other teams have caught up.

As far as other teams not giving Paul a FP1, I think they have invested so much in other drivers (similar to Merc) that don't want to look bad. Alpine has like 20 divers in their academy, Williams needs experience to fix their hot mess. The only places I see potential is Hass, but would they run a risk of a double rookie line up with Bearman (they have also already done their rookie FP1s), or Audi/sauber but they have Theo Pourchair and Zane Maloney who are in line (I will say though, that Theo could get an Indy Seat and he's been out of a Formula car for awhile and Zane looks to have lost form, so maybe hope?)

This is a really long rant, I'm sorry. But it's likely Paul will end up in FormulaE or Indy car (where I think he would do really well personality and driving wise)

I hope in this case he goes to Formula E since he’s driven there alert

[gacmediadaily]

True, we haven’t bought our Halloween candy yet, but as loyal fans of the holiday romance genre, we are prepared to start the most wonderful time of the year today. With Hallmark Channel’s annual Countdown to Christmas and Great American Family’s Great American Christmas now in full swing, and Lifetime and other networks loading their sleighs, we’re here to help you choose between the season’s many offerings. Each Thursday, we’ll spotlight the movie that should be at the top of your weekend list and preview why other debuts will make you merry.

THE ONE TO WATCH

Bringing Christmas Home (Premieres Saturday, Oct. 28 at 8 pm on Great American Family)

The holiday movie genre has made a tradition of honoring veterans for their service, and this film is another worthy salute — with mystery and romance to boot. Jill Wagner stars as army intelligence officer-turned-military history professor Caroline, whom antique shop owner Russell (Paul Greene) enlists to help return a recently-acquired WWII dress uniform jacket to the hero’s family in time for Christmas. A love letter and photo found in a pocket sweeten their mission to uncover who this man was, what happened to him after he was listed MIA, and whether he ever reunited with the gal who wrote him endlessly (juicy twist alert!).

Fans of the Mystery 101 franchise will enjoy seeing Wagner play another smart sleuth. But beyond that, she’s riveting in the scenes where Caroline, who’s trying to adjust to civilian life with help from her army buddy Alton (Simon Arblaster), recounts a Christmas Eve they spent in the desert. As always, Greene’s vibe is as warm and soothing as a cup of cocoa. You believe that Russell would be chill enough to leave his plucky sister Jules (Jess Brown) alone at their store during the holiday rush, and that he’d be patient with Caroline, who’s afraid her past will scare off future happiness. As Caroline points out, not every story has a happy ending; you’ll root for hers to.

Runner-Up: Ms. Christmas Comes to Town

Keep those tissues handy! In our runner-up pick, Ms. Christmas Comes to Town (premiering Thursday, Oct. 26 at 8 pm, repeating Saturday, Oct. 28 at 10 pm on Hallmark Movies & Mysteries), Barbara Niven plays Gale, a beloved host of the Holiday Shopping Channel, who receives a terminal diagnosis and decides to retire — but not before taking her “Ms. Christmas” act on the road for a farewell tour. She wants to train Amanda (Erica Durance), the daughter she never had, to be her on-air successor, Ms. Holiday. And since Gale is hiding her illness, she makes Travis (Brennan Elliott), the nurse traveling with them, pull a double shift as Mr. Winters. It’s great to see Niven, a scene-stealer in the network’s Hannah Swensen movies, take center stage. She and Durance have co-starred before, so their affection for each other feels real, as do their eventual tears. Just know the movie brings tidings of comfort and joy, not sorrow.

The Best of the Rest…

Mystic Christmas (premieres Saturday, Oct. 28 at 8 pm on Hallmark Channel) When globe-trotting marine veterinarian Juniper (Jessy Schram) spends the holidays in Mystic, Connecticut helping her college roommate Candace (Patti Murin) rehab Peppermint the harbor seal, it’s also a chance for Juniper to reignite her spark with Candace’s brother, George Bailey-esque pizza restauranteur Sawyer (Chandler Massey). Schram and Massey have the weekend’s winningest chemistry, and you’ll definitely want to add a boat parade to your yuletide itinerary after this.

Christmas By Design (premieres Friday, Oct. 27 at 8 pm on Hallmark Channel) In need of inspiration for a Christmas Eve fashion show/contest, luxury designer Charlotte (Rebecca Dalton) reluctantly heads home and agrees to attend the town’s “Elfcapades” events with mechanic/mannequin Spencer (Jonathan Keltz). In exchange, the thoughtful, handsome widower gets a buffer between him and the local single ladies whose engines he rightfully revs.

Joyeux Noel (premieres Sunday, Oct. 29 at 8 pm on Hallmark Channel) Two newspaper colleagues, green idealist Lea (Jaicy Elliot) and seasoned Grinch Mark (Brant Daugherty), are sent to France to unearth the untold love story behind a popular painting of a holiday market where, legend says, people meet their soulmates. As they retrace the enigmatic artist’s steps…well, you can guess!

Journey to Christmas (premieres Sunday, Oct. 29 at 8 pm on Great American Family) Kindhearted model Cali (Ash Tsai, charming even when delivering the weekend’s most stilted dialogue) embarks on a cross-country road trip with hired driver Jack (Joey Heyworth), who took the gig to avoid spending the holidays with his family and ex-fiancée. Unfortunately, a storm strands them in Illinois with his relatives. Unsurprisingly, it’s the diversion they both needed.