#even howar

[neonjstr]

the most "innocent" person in better call saul isn't howard actually its chuck *mic drop*

[istherewifiinhell]

watching the second half of The Video now. moved on from the stare bug eyed at phone portion to the gritting teeth looking away portion [<- takes psychic damage from youtuber apology video]

[kadwrites]

office scandal | T.S

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or check out the series masterlist

summary ; polly takes you with her to run an errand.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, bad writing?!! , typos maybe (english isn't my first language)

a/n ; i almost lost my mind writing this. hopefully the accents are better and polly is well portrayed? lmk what you think <3

_

you're still on your bed, your friends are on it too this time. madeline and fiona , are on either side of you, kneeling on your mattress.

"what do ya mean y're gettin' married ?" madeline looks at you with a crooked smile, she thinks you're messing with her.

fiona is just staring at you with her head tilted

"i mean i am to be wed, betrothed, spoken for,"

"okay stop." fiona puts a hand up , "when did ya decide to do that? i thought ya were waitin' to get swept off yer feet"

you sigh, leaning back and letting the back of your head hit the bed frame "it just ... 'appened..."

madeline and fiona look at eachother before looking at you

"what are ya not tellin' us?"

"yeah , what are ya hidin' ?"

you look at them both, you contemplate telling them. you haven't really spoken about this whole ordeal to anyone , not really. and its been a week and a half already

"i um" your eyes drop to your hands "my parents chose 'im for me"

"yer parents?" fiona asks with a raised brow "and how exactly did they convince ya to do that?"

"its a long story" you wave a dismissive hand

"so ya know who he is?" madeline copies fiona, tilting her head too "do we know 'im as well?"

"i think everyone in birmingham knows 'im" you mutter under your breath

"who the fuck are ya marryin'?the king of england?"

you just stare at them, you lick your lips "ya got to keep yer knickers intact."

they both nod,

"its thomas shelby"

"what?" fiona's face drops , her voice does too.

madeline just snorts a laugh and then then goes quiet and just looks at you, "y're jokin' right?"

you take a deep breath "no , i am not jokin' "

"what do ya mean y're marryin' thomas shelby?" madeline gets closer to you "how?"

"i don't know..." just look back at them, your voice soft too.

"do ya want this?" madeline asks again

"it's complicated really..."

"no its not, ya either do or ya don't" fiona's hands grab yours "do ya not want this?"

you lick your lips, you take a moment to think , howare you going to even phrase this "i do,"

"ya do know who he is right?" madeline stares at you with a confused look "he isn't just any man"

"i know who he is..." you sigh

"then how are ya willing to marry 'im?" fiona never spoke so seriously before

"i 'ave my reasons"

"i hope that they're good enough for ya to put yourself through this" madeline chimes in again

you just close your eyes and let yourself plop back against the mattress, fiona and madeline share another look.

" 'ave you seen 'im?" madeline laid next to you

"yeah" you say with a chuckle , your mind flashing images of him on the sofa.

"is he really a dish?"

madeline smacks fiona on her arm and fiona rubs it with a frown "what! ya were thinkin' that too!"

you roll your eyes, but a small smile plays at your lips "he isn't bad lookin' i suppose."

madeline looks at you with a raised brow

"fine, he's a dish, happy?" you mumble , as if it pained you to admit it

"at least one of us will be fuckin' someone attractive"

"i thought ya liked callum" madeline frowns

"i love ya madeline i do, but callum isn't exactly a sight for the sore eyes"

"when's the weddin'?"

you look at madeline "i dont know , we 'ave yet to speak about that"

"i bet it's gonna be grand , ey?" fiona wiggles her brows

"well if i'm marryin' one of the wealthiest man in birmingham i might as well make at an occasion"

"wait , did you 'ave an engagement party already?" madeline asks, with a gasp and a hand on her chest

"if i did, ya would've been there."

"he has a son , ya know" fiona's voice goes back to its soft tone

you hum and nod "he told me about 'im"

"he did?" madeline asks with a smile

"what did he say?"

"that he wants a wife that can take care of 'im,"

"won't be long till you start poppin' out babies too" fiona mumbles

"whats that supposed to mean?" you ask with a chuckle

"with a husband this good lookin'? i give ya three months, and ya'll have a little one in that belly"

"don't speak that into existence!"

"i mean..." madeline says with a smirk "look at celest, she got pregnant with sarah , what? 4 or 5 months after she got married?"

"please don't open this topic of conversation" you beg as you rub your hand over your face "im stressed as it is."

all the of you turn to look at the door when you hear is open and celest's head peaks in "polly gray is here"

madeline and fiona turn to look at eachother then at you

"why?"

"i don't know but she's waitin' for ya" celest shrugs

"i'll be right there" you get off the bed and open the doors to your closet, looking for something to wear

"polly gray ? she's the shelbys aunt isnt she?"

"what does she want with ya?"

you change your clothes in a hurry, mind racing with possibilities "im not sure" you just mumble as you put on your blouse.

they watch you as you fix your hair and then go downstairs.

"mrs gray" you say with a polite smile as you walk into the living room "to what do i owe the pleasure"

she looks at you with a look thats eerily similar to her nephew's,and you try to not turn and walk back up the stairs

"we 'ave some business to attend to"

"we do?" your brows furrow "at this time?" it was 6 in the evening after all.

"yes"

"okay." you try not to snap your own neck at that response.

you get into her car as she drives, you two sitting in awkward silence "where are we goin' ?"

she glances at you before glancing back at the road and you just don't ask again but then you see your destination, shelby company limited and you think you might just not get out of that car but you do. your heels click against the floor when you walk through the dark halls.

there aren't many people there considering the work day has already ended, but you see a woman. she's young, around your age maybe. and she greets polly, completely ignoring you but you chalk it up to maybe the fact that it's polly gray is standing next to you.

"good evenin' , mrs gray" her voice is almost sickly sweet

"do you know who this is?" she asks her, nodding at you.

she looks you up and down and then shakes her head "nah, i can't say i do."

"she's tommy shelby's fiancé."

"i didn't know he was engaged" her lashes flutter and her lips twitch as she tries to maintain her smile.

"ya do now , don't ya?" polly stares that woman down "an' i hope it doesn't escape yer mind"

you just watch as the color drains out of her face as she excuses herself and scurries back to her work.

"what the fuck was that about?" it escapes your mouth before you even think, polly turns to you "that poor girl"

"in a place like this , ya either put yer fucking foot down and let everyone know what yer place is before they decide for themselves." her voice is stern, its firm and it makes you stand straighter "an' that poor girl wants to fuck yer fiancée"

"what?" your voice is squeaky, its high pitched. "how could you possibly know that?"

"anyone with eyes can fuckin' see that."

"i.." your words die when you look at her and you realize, she's helping you. "why are ya doin' this for me?"

"i know ya might not had the control that ya wanted over who yer husband is" her tone doesn't change when she speaks "so i'll give ya one piece of advice, ya can't marry tommy if ya don't 'ave a backbone. it'll be easier for ya to kill yerself than to live with 'im."

you know polly, but not well. she and your father knew eachother as children , your father is part gypsy himself. you remember meeting her a handful of times as a child but you were always too scared to talk to her for very long.

ironically, your mother didn't like the lifestyle her nephews led, she didn't want her children to be involved in it so you didn't get to see polly much throughout your life.

but you do remember one thing vividly and its her telling you to bite your brother back whenever he bothered you "or ya'll just show 'im that he can treat ya like that for the rest of yer life, ya dont want that now do ya?" . and you did do just that when abraham tugged on your braids a mere 10 minutes later, and polly winked at you , as she sipped her tea and you just stood there smiling proudly even though your mother was yelling at you for making your brother cry.

when you hear another pair of steps walking towards you, you both turn to see tommy. he's in his usual getup sans the jacket, a cigarette hanging from his lip and his glasses are on , his hands in his pocket.

"are ya done terrorizin' my secretary?"

polly just looks at him and walks past him "i'll leave ya two to it then."

and you were left there with him, blinking at that interaction.

"terrorizin' ? thats a bit of an exaggeration"

_

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Never thought id be here today, waiting for more Coopee Howars foot fetish content.

Tbh its not even that I want someone sucking my toes, i just love how into it he gets.

As always I speak for the however many of us when I say I love your stuff I cant wait to be fed again<3

Oh, this one's going up on the shelf. Y'all are really turning me into wretched little goblin who enjoys corrupting people, even moreso than I already was! And yes, I feel like not enough people consider the "receiving" side of foot fetishism. Having someone you really like and trust be into your feet (which aren't usually in anyone's favorite physical features on themselves or anything) is so fun and strangely ego-feeding. Go on and get someone hot to rub your feet or pay for a pedicure or something, friends. It could change your life!

"You really don't have to do this, you know." you muse at your narrowly-focused boyfriend as he cracks his neck for the fourth time in the last hour.

Initially, he had offered to rub your feet. After a long day of walking and standing, your ankles are often tight and your feet ache, and he's sweet enough to help you out when you're spending the night together. You'd been very eager to accept; you remember it well. It was only a while ago. How it had turned into all of this was still somewhat of a mystery to you.

You'd offhandedly mentioned, right on the verge of falling asleep in sheer relaxation at his massaging of your lower body, that you'd been intending to take some time to paint your toes for a few days, but you'd been too busy and tired to get around to it. Before you knew what was really going on, he was asking where you kept your polish but insisting you didn't get up, leaving you directing him through your bathroom, under the sink to find what he wanted. When he sunk back onto his end of the couch, the small wire basket, the one that contained all your nail polishes, clippers, emery boards and such, fills his hands. You try your hardest to not squirm at the idea of him digging around in your meager little bathroom.

It's almost surreal to see him dressed so "working class", reclining on your couch in a pair of blue jeans, a braided brown belt, and a white tee shirt. He had been wearing a fairly nice short sleeve button-up when he'd first come over, but the late summer heat inspired him to remove it. Your air conditioning works, but it doesn't work that well, unfortunately, leaving the place just a hair below "muggy". He's polite enough to not complain.

He's always a very gracious guest in your apartment, but you still find that you always feel a little embarrassed at your accommodations. You don't live in a hovel or anything, and you keep your place clean and work hard to make it homey, but knowing how much higher a standard of living he's used to never fails to fill you with mild shame. He wasn't born wealthy, though, and even now his split with Barb has left him somewhat hamstrung financially, so you know that he at least respects how hard you work to have the few nice things you have. It's a level of down-to-earth that you hadn't been expecting when the literal celebrity had initially begun to woo you, and it made you fall for him all the quicker.

The two of you choose the color together from the options, settling on a nice, bright white. He says it compliments the tone of your skin beautifully. Your place is filled with companionable silence as he sets to work, the only real sound the buzz of the multiple fans you have running in each room.

You're rather surprised at how well he seems to paint the nails, at least at first. For one, he has incredibly steady, nimble hands, working the tiny brush with practiced ease, so the little dots and streaks you usually leave along the cuticle and nail bed are nowhere to be seen. You suspect that he may have done this for Barb a time or two, but if he has, he doesn't volunteer it, noticeably quieter than he's been all night. You don't press, often afraid to breach the subject of his ex for fear of ruining the vibe.

Secretly, you also worry, deep inside, that he might think about going back to her sometimes. While he seems relieved by the finalization of the divorce most of the time, there are moments, vulnerable moments, where he openly misses his family. You want to be fair to him, to give him the space to express and process his feelings that he needs, but he and Barb had only been separated about a year when the two of you had begun to date. Head over heels in love with the sweet, sexy, thoughtful older man at this point, you fear ending up a rebound, your dreams sometimes plagued with visions of him leaving you to reconcile with her, or simply deciding that he no longer wants to date anyone, period.

You keep these annoying little dreams to yourself, by and large.

"Alright, they seem dry enough." he says finally, poking at one nail gingerly and distracting you from your rather grim thoughts. You watch him inspecting his work, and it makes you beam, a reaction that only intensifies when you notice his erection. Its presence doesn't necessarily surprise you.

Several times now, he's sort of goaded you into letting him suck your toes when he has you in certain positions, usually when he's got you folded in half like a lawn chair on your back and you basically can't stop him (or properly kick at him, accidentally or otherwise). It's not something you'd seen coming from him, but the way it makes you feel leads to you letting him do so whenever he wants, rather happily. He's very adventurous sexually, and the two of you enjoy trying new things together, so initially you'd taken the experimentation as just that; messing around, testing, teasing. But he seems to really enjoy both the act itself and your reaction to it, slowly adding it to his regular repertoire.

Two can play at that game, though, and you've begun to use his own moves against him.

You let the soft arch of your foot play over the now-straining bulge in his pants, a smile playing coyly at the corners of your mouth as he barely withholds a groan at the feeling. For a few silent moments, you toy with him, examining the white polish that perfectly coats each of your nails, nudging and petting at him as you do.

"Quite a bold little tease." he chuckles, the sound low and licentious. His left hand still dances around your feet as they rest in his lap, but the other dances down and quickly works the mahogany colored belt open, the hiss of his fly coming undone making you shiver.

Wordlessly, he tugs his cock free, staring you down all the while.

"Mmm, I think your initial foot rub offer may have been just a tad self-serving, Mister Howard." you muse, your voice low and rich in your attempt to be seductive, your eyes glued to the hand that's slowly, teasingly stroking himself at you. The head is already flushed a deep red and leaking generously, and you feel drawn to it, pulling yourself up into a sitting position to get a closer look, but you're quickly rebuffed.

"Not done yet." he responds, his hand leaving his erection, which springs up to lay flat against his stomach as he playfully pushes you back into your spot, his palm warm against your exposed skin for a brief moment. Giggling, you humor him despite the heat you feel rapidly consuming you, gnawing away at your lower lip as you watch him closely.

Reaching down into the little metal basket on the floor once more, he produces a bottle of lotion that you often use to finish off your at-home pedicures. His demeanor is all business as he sets to applying the thick cream to your skin, starting at the ankles and working his way down, gently massaging his way as he goes. It feels wonderful, just as his massaging earlier did, but at this point, you're beyond distracted by the very minor view of his cock you have at this angle, pressing your thighs together as best as you can to try and relieve the ache building in your clit.

"Mmm, needs just a little more lotion, don't you think?" he asks, thumb pressing right into the center of your heel and drawing a sigh from you, the sound of the cap popping open snapping through the air. He watches you closely as his grip eases, both hands moving up to warm the glob of the stuff he lets fall into his palm. Watching raptly, you finally slide your own hand into your sleep shorts, grunting quietly at the sparks that shoot through you as you begin to slowly rub at your puffy slit. His eyes are following you, and his already throbbing erection jerks visibly at the sight.

Both of you let out a low groan when one of his well-lotioned hands wraps around his cock, stroking it lightly a handful of times before quickly grabbing your feet once more, applying the extra product mostly to your toes and inner soles, which you watch with a delicious combination of lust and squirming bashfulness.

"God, you have such sexy feet." he murmurs, entirely to himself.

The two of you are often surprisingly in-sync for a couple with a not-insignificant age gap, and sometimes you feel like you can see his thought processes perfectly.

This is one of those times.

You've never given a proper foot job before, but the whole thing isn't really as complicated as it seemed in your mind once you pull yourself close, your lover's eyes glinting with want as you experiment with your body's position, the angle of your legs and ankles, trying to find what's most comfortable for you both. Eventually, you settle for sitting up and facing him, balancing on your hands and ass on the worn cushion as your legs extend forward, resting lightly along his own, spread open along the couch frame.

"You'll tell me if I do something wrong, right?" you ask, and he laughs at first, but when his eyes meet yours again he must see the sincerity there, because his tone is earnest when he responds.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Trying his best to help you, he cups your heels and supports your lower legs as you gently begin to rub against him, starting with your inner arch. He hisses at the contact, watching you very closely as you pet along his shaft with your lubricated toes, tracing the head with care. You can feel his precum cooling on your skin as you tease him more and more, building him up into a groaning, lowing mess, begging you for something he doesn't have words for.

His moans only increase in volume as you press both arches around him, squeezing his shaft as best as you can, raising and lowering yourself intentionally, trying your best to stroke him with your lower appendages alone. Your lover is frozen as he takes in your efforts, quickly becoming more and more coordinated, your skin becoming slicker and slicker as he leaks continuously. As soon as he regains any composure, his only move is to grab onto your ankles and hold on tight.

Spurred on by the wild look in his eyes, you press your feet together as tightly as you can, still balancing on one hand and your rear as your lover slickly fucks the gap between them. It doesn't feel like much to you, save for the slight tickle of the friction of his skin on yours, but watching him writhe with pleasure, his chest heaving hard as he breathes fast and shallow, groaning and bucking as you both glisten with sweat…the sight of it pushes you rapidly towards the edge.

"Fuck, baby, I love you." he growls almost absentmindedly, feverish with lust as his hips snap against them faster and faster, your hand between your legs racing to catch up as you both speed towards your finish. The confession makes you flush and clench hard, and a split second later, you're cumming harder than you have at any time in recent memory, finally losing your balance and spilling backwards, flat and staring up at the ceiling as your body twitches and jerks out of your control. Cooper continues to use your appendages to please himself, and you can hear him muttering incoherent obscenities under his breath as his whole body tenses, tight like a cobra ready to strike.

"Lemme see it, Coop." you breathe.

Still riding your incredibly tense high, you fight to keep your eyes open as you watch him toss his head back, his squared jaw falling slack as a low, deep, guttural bellow spills forth from him, filling the room with sound as the first shot of him hits your skin. Jet after jet of hot, sticky cum paints the tops of your feet, your toes, your inner soles, dripping hotly down onto his covered stomach as the head of his cock rubs against you a final few times.

As you both work to recompose yourselves, he pulls his soiled shirt over his head and uses it to crudely clean up the mess, enough that you won't be dragging it everywhere, at least. It's your turn to admire him, then, drawn in as always by his enticing physique. He has a very nice body, painstakingly crafted and meticulously maintained with hard work, and you know he's very proud of it, so you let your eyes linger rather obviously. It earns a wry smirk from him as he leans back a bit. You want to kiss him breathless.

"Well." you say after a few more silent seconds, a sly remark loaded that dies on your tongue as he pulls himself to his feet rather suddenly.

"Yeah, don't 'well' me, kid." he retorts, tucking his visibly still-hard cock back into his pants, his clothing disheveled, open belt buckle clanking back and forth as he leans down to take your hand, quickly yanking you up onto your own.

"Cooper!" you cackle as he holds you steady, eyes running hungrily up and down your body. His voice is deadly when he responds, his free hand coming down to slap your ass hard as he jerks his head towards the back of the apartment:

"You'd better get your ass in that bedroom, girl."

[operafantomet]

The Romanian / Norwegian / Greek / Middle East + European Tour version is really starting to hit many countries and cities now. Along with some photos of the current cast (from the respective webpages I have linked to underneath), here's a complete overview to where it has played so far, and where it will play in 2024-2025 (*):

JAN 2015: Teatrul National de Opereta, Budapest, ROMANIA. This was the prototype, directed by Stephen Barlow and designed by Andrew Riley. Leading trio was Adrian Nour, Irina Ioana Baiant and Florian Ristei, and it was performed in Romanian.

SEPT 2018 - MARCH 2019: Folketeateret, Oslo, NORWAY. This was a much updated version of the original Romanian production, with new costumes, and revamped sets and effects. Leading trio was Espen Grjotheim, Mira Ormala / Astrid Giske and Carl Lindquist, and it was performed in Norwegian.

JAN - MAR 2020: Thessaloniki Concert Hall and Christmas Theatre in Athens, GREECE. This was pretty much the Oslo production, but with some changes for tourability. From Greece on it has only been performed in English, regardless of the location. The original leading trio in Greece was Ben Forster, Celinde Schoenmaker / Amy Manford and Nadim Naaman. The production closed earlier than announced due to Covid.

FEB - MARCH 2023: Christmas Theatre in Athens and Thessaloniki Concert Hall, GREECE. Back in Greece, still in English, still an international cast, even more set and costume changes. This time the leading trio was Tim Howar, Harriet Jones / Georgia Wilkinson and Nadim Naaman.

OCT - DEC 2023: The Arena, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Continuing most of what was the case in Greece, except Nadim Naaman took over the role of the Phantom from Tim Howar, and Dougie Carter took over as Raoul. Was now dubbed "The Middle East Tour". It was the first time a full-scale production of Phantom of the Opera was done in Saudi Arabia.

FEB - MARCH 2024: Dubai Opera, Dubai. Same cast and overall set-up as Riyadh. This production followed in the footsteps of the World Tour (original version), visiting Dubai in 2019.

APRIL 2024: National Palace of Culture, Sofia, BULGARIA. Same cast and overall set-up as Riyadh and Dubai. This was, I think, the first time a city has housed two different non-replica productions. Not at the same time, mind you, as this version touring has meant the local productions are now allowed to perform for some time. This was at least what was announced from the producers in Bulgaria, Serbia and the Czech Republic. Curious.

AUG - SEPT. 2024: National Palace of Culture, Sofia, BULGARIA. The production has announced its return to Sofia this autumn. This due to the sold-out initial run.

OCT 2024: Sagros Campo Pequeno, Lisbon, PORTUGAL. The production has announced a run there from October 15-27, 2024. A concert version has previously been performed in Portugal, but it will be the first time a full-scale production is done.

NOV - DEC 2024: Musical Theater Basel, Switzerland. The production has announced a run there from Nov. 6 to Dec 22, 2024. The original Swiss production 1995-1997 did a hardcore thing of perfoming in both German and English. It will therefore not be the first time POTO is performed there, nor the first time it is performed in English. But it is the first time this exact version visits, and the 1995-1997 one was the original version.

FEB - MARCH 2025: Stadsschouwburg, Antwerp, Belgium. The production has announced a run there from Feb. 6 to March 7, 2025. The original Belgian production ran from 1999-2000, and was performed in the local language, but it will be the first time it is performed in English. It will as such also be the 10th anniversary for this specific touring version, as it premiered in Romania in January 2015.

MARCH 2025: Kongresove Centrum, Prague, Czech Republic. The production has announced a run there from March 19-27, 2025. This means the local production 'Fantom Opery' at Goja Music Hall has been paused. According to the official website the Phantom will be Nadim Naaman, the role of Christine will be shared between Georgia Wilkinson and Bridget Costello, and Raoul will be Dougie Carter.

(*) More dates will likely follow. Kuwait was announced some time back, but cannot be found anywhere now. Also, the local Serbian production announced a break because another version was visiting, so I won't be surprised if Belgrade is added to the list later on.

[phantomtrader19]

(HALF*) 2024/25 cast REVIEW 31.08.2024

Spent 2 shows yesterday at phantom which I haven’t done in a while! Planned this couple months ago to see the new cast however I had covers for Raoul, Mme Giry & Piangi and all swings on too! There was a lot of people off!

First off it felt so strange to not see some cast members who had been there since 2021!

Ensemble was made up of all 5 swings being on which is a first for me I think?

Overall lovely performances from all, new corps de ballet were gorgeous as always!

For the Principals I’ll start with Millie Lyon as Meg who was brilliant - lovely youthful voice, feisty characterisation and a BLONDE wig! I’ve missed the blonde wig! Fantastic Meg looking forward to seeing her much more.

Martin Ball as Firmin is an absolute triumph! Hilariously pompous and arrogant and such a grumbly kind of voice he was a standout last night, he seemed to play the role like he was tipsy drunk the majority of the time and he was just not interested in all the dramas going on. Great chemistry with Adam which I admittedly thought may have been difficult to achieve after Matt Harrop but I absolutely loved his take on the character!

Hywel Dowsell was on for Piangi, last time I seen him he was second cover and was on for the first time in 18 months! Lovely nuanced performance with little ad-libs and added acting pieces - really enjoyed!

Victoria Ward was on for Mme Giry I’ve seen her once before and I really enjoyed her and even yesterday she was such a standout! Beautiful voice and again such nuanced acting and more motherly to Meg!

Joanna Ampil as Carlotta was very different to what we’ve seen before, less operatic and more ever so slightly belty sometimes her voice got a little lost in the music, still some gorgeous top notes but I just was hoping for a little more oomph from her voice. acting wise was generally great but I did hope for a little more over the top like Carlotta should be, looking forward to seeing how she grows into the role over the next year!

Enjoyed Michael as Raoul - super strong voice and some great acting choices! I’ve now seen him as many times as I’ve seen Joe! (6 times) Joe is admittedly more my cup of tea acting wise but I enjoyed him nonetheless.

Lily was on fire yesterday, gorgeous voice and acting was out of this world, a top tier Christine by miles! My only slight gripe is her last note in think of me I’m not sure if the orchestra is rushing her or something else but it’s very short, her other high notes are held much longer but I just wish she got to hold it slightly longer as it felt super rushed, 8th time seeing her and always finding new things I love about her Portrayal! Her chemistry with Dean was also insane!!!

Now for Dean, I heard the opening night audio and I’ll admit I wasn’t crazy about his voice and didn’t hear too much acting albeit through audio so my expectations were mid however, I was absolutely BLOWN AWAY that was how a Phantom should sound his voice literally vibrated the auditorium and was just ridiculously gorgeous!!! Acting wise he was more gentler with Christine until the final lair when he let loose. I’ll go out on a limb and say from all the Phantoms I’ve seen he may have been my favourite in line with Earl Carpenter - vocally 100% my favourite he reminded me of Colm Wilkinson, Tim Howar & Killian Donnelly in some musical points. a firm favourite!

Really great cast, will be back to catch the full principal cast so I can see Helen Hobson as Mme Giry!

Aiming to see Eve with the new cast too as I last saw her nearly a year ago and must’ve caught an off show as she wasn’t sounding great but after hearing more recent audios she sounded as beautiful as her debut! Would also love to see Zoe on as Carlotta as she has a voice that lifts the ensemble to new heights!

I do have audios from the 2 shows yesterday, please message me to trade but disclaimer that my replies are not great rn as work has been super hectic!

[andiv3r]

andyla hello

HELLLOOOOO HOWARE YOU ON THIS FINE EVENING

[glassprism]

Why is Nadim Naaman’s mask so lumpy?

Are you asking about Nadim Naaman's mask specifically, or are you asking about the masks in all the productions that are based on it, like the ones in Norway, Greece, and the Middle East / European tour? Because Nadim Naaman's is not the first to look like that: here's Espen Grjotheim's mask in Oslo, Ben Forster's in the first Greek tour, and Tim Howar's in the revival.

As for the why, maybe they want it to look as lumpy as his deformity, but another possibility is to give the mask some texture and color. On stage under bright lights, a pure white mask will end up looking like a spot of blinding whiteness, which can be quite distracting. Replica productions tend to use shading to accomplish this, hence why some masks will look gray or even blue-ish offstage. But under stage lights, the mask will look white with the colors giving the illusion of shadows. It's likely the masks used in the Norwegian, Greek, and touring versions are also trying to do that, but are utilizing bumps and irregularities in the surface, rather than coloring, to achieve that. It probably looks a little funny offstage, but ultimately the mask is not meant to be seen offstage; it's what it looks like onstage that matters.

And there might be some in-story reason for why the mask looks that way. Perhaps the Norwegian / Greek / touring Phantom made his own mask out of whatever materials he had available; their Phantom interpretation might very well be that he's more of the scavenger type, living right on the edge of the lake, utilizing any scrap he can find. Perhaps it's meant to invoke a papier-mache structure, which would give a connection to the monkey music box. Something like that.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Heir to Murder she Wrote

Well, @shitty-conspiracies-i-invented , if you insist

It seemed surreal, Grady thought as little Frankie, to Grady he would always be little Frankie no matter that he was in his 30’s now, drove the car through the center of Cabot Cove.  Through the closed window Grady could smell the docks with its combination of salt water and fish. It felt like nothing and everything had changed. 

It had been a decade since Grady last came to Cabot Cove, since Seth Hazelett’s funeral. Though his Aunt Jess came to visit after that, it felt odd to visit the town itself. So much of the energy of the town seemed bound up in his Aunt Jess and her friendship with Seth.  After his death, something felt like it was missing. 

Frank pulled up to the house that had been his Aunt Jess’s for as long as Grady could remember.  Grady got out of the car, but could not take another step, peering up at the house.

Donna settled against him, their hands clasped together. “It will be ok, I promise”

Grady gave a nod that felt shaky, “I know, I know. It’s just…”

“Aunt Jess” Donna finished softly.

“Aunt Jess. I suppose I just thought she would always be…here” he waved his hand to indicate both the house and his own life. 

Donna sighed, “I know”

The sound of a car engine broke the moment. Frank drove off, to stay with his husband and the children until the funeral tomorrow. Frank had driven them up early, both so they could start to go through Aunt Jess’s things and because Frank’s car was not quite big enough for everyone to drive up at once. So Mike, Frank's husband, and their four kids got a hotel in Augusta while Frank drove Grady and Donna to Cabot Cove.  

An inner ear problem that Grady had developed in his fifties caused dizzy spells that were just severe and frequent enough that he could not drive any longer. Donna let her license lapse after they bought a Condo in Manhattan, as there was no need to drive. 

The couple walked up the path. Grady braced himself for the eerie silence of a house that should have been full with a single person. 

But silence is not what he found. Instead there was a low level chatter coming from the kitchen.  

Grady drifted through the living room to the entrance of the kitchen. At the table were several people, chief among them…

“Mort?” Grady asked, taking in the former shariff, now almost twenty years retired. 

The man had grown even frailer than the last time Aunt Jess had shown them pictures of her friends in Cabot cove, which had been pictures of Eve Simpson’s final birthday party in 2018. But his eyes were still bright and his smile still infectious. His tone was still warm when he spoke,  “Grady. Donna”

Mort made no effort to stand to greet them. Aunt Jess had said he had never quite regained the strength in his legs after a bout of COVID early on in the Pandemic that had left him comatose for almost six months. 

Adele, however, nearly jumped to her seat to pull them both into a bone crushing hug. It did not matter that she was pushing ninety, she was still as strong as ever.  “Oh you poor dears, I knew. I just knew we had to be here when you arrived. I hope you don’t mind that we let ourselves in. Victoria said she didn’t but… it was your aunt as well.”

Donna was already patting on Adele’s back. Grady could see the smitten look that Mort sent toward Adele and warmth pushed itself past the grief that Grady had been carrying since he got the news. It was a beautiful thing, to see Mort still so in love with his wife after all these years.  

As Adele let them go, Grady turned to the other woman in the room, “Hi Vicky.”

Victoria was one of Grady's cousins by marriage.  Grady was Frank Fletcher's nephew while Victoria was one of Jessica Fletcher's many nieces. Vicky looked like she had been crying, and also like she had not slept in some time. It was hard to tell how much of that was from Aunt Jess. Grady knew from the few reunions he had gone to that Vicky had never really recovered from her husband Howard’s death in 2011. 

Vicky nodded but didn’t speak, she had grown very quiet after Howard’s death. 

Donna began moving around the kitchen, tidying it in a nervous but familiar habit.

Grady turned back to Adele, “You and Mort are always welcome here,” he considered the words, “Well I suppose if we sell the house, or Frank decides to move in, you should check with owners, of course. Not that we are planning on selling it, or could sell it. We don’t know who Aunt Jess left it to after all. I mean…”

Mort chuckled, “We get what you mean. Thank you.”

Adele looked like she was resisting drawing them close again, “After the funeral tomorrow, we’ll come back and help go through Jessica’s papers. We got a notice saying that the Will will be read at the end of next week?”

Donna nodded even as she finally sat down on the far side of the table with a little huff of air, “Oh, yes. Aunt Jess’s lawyer is coming up from Boston as executor. She was a recommendation from a friend of Jessica’s.”

“Aunt Jess was worried that her death would bring out all kinds of crazies” Grady interjected, not wanting anyone to think Aunt Jess didn’t trust them, “so she wanted someone involved who would be a step removed as the executor”

XXX

The funeral was a sunny affair. More than one neighbor spoke of God celebrating as He welcomed an angel home.  Grady knew many but not all of the faces surrounding Aunt Jess’s coffin, but he had no doubt that each had their lives touched by Aunt Jess; whether they wanted to or not. 

One face stuck out but it took several long minutes for Grady to place why. It was familiar, but from the haze of childhood. In addition the man’s features were sharper  and his eyes a touch colder. 

“Harry Pierce?” Grady asked, voice pitched low so as not to make a scene. 

The man turned to look, giving a wide shark's grin at the sight of Grady. “Grady.” Harry made an aborted movement as if to give Grady a hug, but stopped when Grady jerked back just a bit. “It has been too long, ya hear. Sad that this is the occasion, though.”

“Harry? I thought…Well Aunt Jess said had been…”

Harry shrugged with a short laugh “Sent to jail, yeah. I was released about ten years ago, paroled. It was only a few days ago that I was allowed to come back to Cabot Cove, you see.”

Grady felt his face twist, “So you came for Aunt Jess’s funeral?”

Harry’s face dropped into a glare, “She was my friend.”

Grady’s confusion deepened, “Who sent you to prison.”

Harry waved his hand as if to brush off the words, “I did kill two people and tried to kill Jessica, I can’t blame her for that. I was out of control. It was good to see you again, Grady.”

Grady watched as Harry wandered off into the crowd. 

“Jessica always did know the strangest people.” A voice to Grady’s right made him jump.  The man who spoke was older with a shock of white hair and a British accent. 

Grady was saved from thinking up a reply by Donna stepping next to him and holding her hand out to the man. “I’m Donna, Grady’s wife. And you are?”

The man was staring at the coffin that would shortly be lowered into Aunt Jess’s grave. “Michael is as good a name as any. Certainly what Jessica knew me as.” When Michael looked up at Grady, there was something melancholy in his eyes, something tired. “You’re aunt was one of a kind. I owe her more than a few. You ever need anything, use this information to reach out.” Michael gave Grady a pure white business card with only a phone number and an email. 

XXX

The memorial after the burial was held in the community center. Dixon’s diner offered to cater for free, in memory of Grady’s Aunt Jess. It was set up and run by members of the local congregation, lead by Bonnie Hastings, so that Aunt Jess’s variety of family did not have to think about the guests. 

Grady drifted through the room with Donna at his side. Frank, Mike, and the kids had spread in a different direction. Everywhere he could hear snippets of stories, all about his Aunt Jess. The times where she helped solve a mystery. The times where she stuck her nose in, and somehow fixed everything.  Even a few times where her need to know and impressive memory caused the problems that she would then solve.

Grady heard Debbie Dixon, Bo Dixon’s granddaughter and the current owner of Dixon’s diner, say that she was going to grab more plastic cups. Then mere moments later she screamed loud enough to rattle the windows. 

Grady was close enough that he was one of the first to reach her, in spite of the mild persistent ache to his hips from all those years sitting at a desk.  The door to a walk-in storage closet was halfway open, an older woman toppled into an uncomfortable looking slump half way through the door, her arm caught on the handle of the door. Her face was barely visible, but there was a long scar that wound across her scalp. It was clear from where Grady was standing that the woman was dead. 

Someone from behind Grady gasped and a female voice said “That’s Wanda Andrews.”

The name meant nothing to Grady, but a murmur went through the crowd behind him.  As he stared at the body the only thing that he could say was “Who brought a corpse to my Aunt Jess’s funeral.”

Mort, who had been pushed in his wheelchair through the crowds by Adele, shrugged “Seems sort of appropriate, though.”

XXX

The newest Sheriff of Cabot Cove, third of that title since Mort Metzger retired, was a woman by the name of Marigold Feeney, former deputy to Amos Tupper. The six months she had spent as part of Cabot Cove Sheriff’s department had, if the rumors Aunt Jess had heard, prepared her for every possible scenario in every other police department she had ever worked.  Sheriff Feeney’s return just over a year before had been a homecoming and a welcome one. The citizens of Cabot Cove could get very twitchy if their Sheriff was too much of an ‘outsider’.

It was always obvious who understood Cabot Cove in the way that only a resident could.  Grady could even see it in little Frankie, who had never lived in the town, and his family. Donna got it better than most, had always understood the part of Grady that also belonged to Cabot Cove; but even with her, there had even been a few instances where Donna had not understood, though she had never been judgemental. 

Sheriff Feeney understood Cabot Cove. This was clear in how she stopped carefully to speak to Bonnie Hastings, who then began to direct people toward the deputies with all the efficiency of a general at war, before making her way over to where the body was still slumped over. Grady would bet that the Sheriff would have checked in with Mort as well, had he been anywhere but next to the body, talking to Debbie Dixon.

“Mr. Fletcher” Grady looked up at the Sheriff, “I’m Sheriff Marigold Feeny. My condolences on the death of your aunt.” She shook his hand with a short professional motion. 

“Good afternoon, Sheriff. Thank you”

The niceties complete, the Sheriff stepped up next to Mort to take Debbie’s statement. 

The residents of Cabot Cove fell into the same pattern they always did when another body dropped. Statements were taken with the efficiency that only comes from experience.  Those from out of town, with the exception of extended Fletcher/McGill family, stared between the body and the nonchalant residents with no small amount of horror. 

As Grady waited to give his statement, he found his eyes following one out of towner in particular. A thin woman around his age with dark curly gray hair and dark eyes.  Grady couldn’t figure out why this woman was sticking out to him, she was not behaving oddly for what was going on. 

Grady moved over to her. Determined to figure out what about her had caught his attention, of all the people here.  “That was quite a surprise.”

The woman glanced at him, “It certainly was.” Her voice was high and soft. 

Grady held out his hand to shake, “I’m Grady Fletcher, Jessica’s nephew. Well, one of them.”

The woman clasped his hand for a moment, “I’m Amy Wainright, I moved to Cabot Cove about six years after you moved to New York, but have been away for some time. When I heard that Jessica Fletcher had, well…I couldn’t believe it.”

Grady nodded along, “Yeah, I think most of us thought she would be around forever.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, before Amy was pulled away to give her statement.  It would not be until Grady was getting ready for bed that night that it occurred to him why she drew his attention. Her eyes were too calm; the wrong kind of calm. It was not the nonchalance of the residents of Cabot Cove, there were only so many dead bodies that could drop in a year before they became just a part of the routine and Cabot Cove tended to pass that point in February every year. The high death rate, with an unusually high murder rate actually helped the tourist trade of the town, as morbid as it sounds. Researchers also tended to come in droves to try and figure out Cabot Cove, but almost always left after a few months, defeated; or became a permanent resident and put their research aside. 

Grady always figured they were asking the wrong questions. 

XXX

Four days after the funeral Grady got a call from Beatrice Malloy, Ideal Malloy's great niece, and a desk clerk at the Sheriff station. 

“Sorry for bothering you, Mr. Fletcher. But Harry Pierce asked me to call you.”

Grady, Donna, Mort, and Adele had been going through Aunt Jess’s papers in preparation for the Will reading. “Harry Pierce?”

Beatrice clicked her tongue, sounding apologetic, “Yes, he was arrested early this morning. Charged with Wanda Andrews murder. He called for a lawyer, but asked to talk to you as well.”

Grady bit his lips and thought if he was really up to dealing with whatever this was. Except he was much more like his Aunt Jess than he thought, because he had a burning curiosity to find out what was going on. 

Adele was kind enough to drive him to the Sheriff station while Mort and Donna continued to sort through paperwork and items.  She decided she would remain in the car, as being in the station without Mort was strange to her. 

Beatrice looked up with a smile as he entered, “Mr. Fletcher. Thank you for coming.”

Grady shrugged, “I was curious.”

He let himself be led to the cells that were still mostly used as a drunk tank, no matter the murder statistics and near perfect solve rate, to where Harry Pierce was being held. The man was still all long, thin limbs near knotted together with anxious energy. 

Harry’s head shot up as soon as Grady came through the doors and the look of relief on his face was uncomfortable for Grady to look at, “Grady. Thank goodness.”

“Harry, why did you call for me?” Grady asked.

“I didn’t kill that woman, I swear. You’ve got to help me.” 

Grady found himself shaking his head a bit, “Help you, Harry? How would I…?”

Harry surged toward the bars of the cell, “Please. You’ve got your aunt’s smarts, right? Surely you can solve this.”

“I’d be willing to let you give it a look” a voice from the door rang out. It was Sheriff Feeny. “It just don’t feel right, solving this without a Fletcher present.”

Grady frowned at her, “Are you sure?”

The sheriff shrugged with a good natured smile, “Pierce is right, we all know you picked up your aunt's talent. Folks around here will get mighty antsy if I don't get at least a second opinion from you. And I like to get a jump on things”

“I suppose I could take a look.” Grady said slowly. 

Harry cheered in the background. 

XXX

“It was the notes Aunt Jess kept from her research for ‘The Killer Called Collect’ that reminded me. One of her early revisions cut out fingerprints as a false clue, the killer using someone else's fingerprints to cover up their own.” 

Amy Wainwright was snarling from where she was being read her rights. No one was paying attention since she had admitted to the crime, then promptly realized her mistake. 

Grady shrugged a little bashfully, “After we realized that Harry’s hair had been planted, I remembered I had seen Ms. Wainwright around Harry before the funeral. I just didn’t realize who either of them were.” 

Mort shook his head, “There had to be more than that, there were tons of people around. It could have been any of them.”

Grady smiled as he pulled Donna closer, “Once you remembered the Andrews case and I looked at the reports, it just clicked. Remember the two tone cord around Wanda’s neck? Red and Green, referencing Wanda’s color blindness and the mistake that made the case Aunt Jess’s problem the first time around. Once I had made the connection, suddenly Amy’s behavior once we found the body made sense. It all fits.”

 Mort was looking at him strangely, his eyes shiny. “You have no idea how much you seem like your aunt right now.” He said softly. 

The words stole Grady’s breath.  All at once it did not matter that he was a nephew by marriage.  His connection to the woman who had been a second mother never felt stronger. 

It seemed as if everything would be ok.

[rotm-channel]

Mysterious Times Chapter 2 YETIS

YETI!(This is meant as Edutainment so you can enjoy and learn)

The Yeti is an ape-like creature. They are taller than an average man. It can walk like a man and has long white or brown hairs covering its whole body.

Colors vary between sightings; sometimes they're snowy white to match the camouflage of the Himalayas.And sometimes in different colors: reddish brown, bluish gray, cream, coffee, light gray, white and light brown.

They are found in the Himalayas. Inhabiting Nepal,Tibet and Russia and India, the Yetis according to modern sightings are said to stand from 8 to 10.5 feet tall, have a furry coat of brown, reddish or black hair and to resemble a huge, upright walking ape.Several expeditions have taken place to find the Yetis, however, only footprints, bones, and hair samples have been discovered-

The "Yeti" or "Abominable Snowman" is a variety found high in the Himalayan Mountains(round Shangri-La), commonly depicted with white fur in fiction.

The Yeti was even mentioned in pre-Buddhist cultures, such as the Lecha people, who worshiped a "Glacier Giant." Tibetan and Nepalese monasteries have collected several skulls and bones of the yetis, some of which reside in the Smithsonian Museum today. Although one of their specimens was proven to be a human bone, others stored in the museum are still in question.

In Buddhist mythology, the Yetis were peaceful creatures that were very shy, and lived in dense snow caves on the glaciers which form the Ganges River in India some legends even state that they had their own tribes and chiefs. In modern times, most sightings and evidence are on K2. The name Yeti derives from "Yeh-Tah", meaning "rock thing".

Around the time of the 16th century the number of yeti sightings and alleged meetings significantly decreased,why did this happen?Skeptics say because people stopped making so many fairy tales…however according to legend they were hunted and feared by many locals and so some went into hiding deep into the himalayas whilst another legend states they were taken under the protective wing of a cossack warrior and left to whereabouts unknown….

Tibetan

Michê : translates as "man-berar”

Dzu-teh – 'dzu' translates as "cattle" and the full meaning translates as "cattle bear",

Migoi or Mi-go translates as "wild man".

Nepalian

Bun Manchi – Nepali for "jungle man" that is used outside Sherpa communities where yeti is the common name.

Mirka – Another name for "wild-man". Local legend holds that "anyone who sees one dies or is killed". The latter is taken from a written statement by Frank Smythe's sherpas in 1937.

Kang Admi – "Snow Man".

Jungli Admi – "Wild Man".

Xueren Chinese: 雪人 - "Snow Man"

Fun Fact!

The name Abominable Snowman was coined in 1921, the year Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Howar-Bury led a reconnaissance mission which he chronicled in Mount Everest The Reconnaissance, 1921. In the book, Howard-Bury includes an account of crossing the Lhagpa La at 21,000 ft (6,400 m) where he found footprints that he believed "were probably caused by a large 'loping' grey wolf, which in the soft snow formed double tracks rather like those of a bare-footed man". He adds that his Sherpa guides "at once volunteered that the tracks must be that of 'The Wild Man of the Snows', to which they gave the name 'metoh-kangmi'".. "Metoh" translates as "man-bear" and "kang-mi" translates as "snowman".

--------------------------------------------------

Now i invite you to a journey to a land which boundaries are that of imagination!A story.....that you will not believe! Little does anyone know that a threat IS COMING!!!!

[screampied]

HI VEGAS!! how are you?? i hope ur doing good :3

i looveeee the new theme so much omg, but i NEED to know how big you think nanami is 😼

-🥮

HI IM GOOOOOOD 💓💓💓🙂‍↕️ HOWARE YOU ??

thank youuuuuu sweets <3 ooh nanamin, i picture him kinda like toji where’s he very thick with heavy breeder balls 😞😞😞. nanami has a lot of girth, he’s one of those guys with a big dick and doesn’t know what to do with it

i would saaaaay nanami is a good 7ish inches, maybe even 8

[theburgessobserver]

Mysterious Times(AKA JAMIES BOOK FROM ROTG)CH 2 YETIS!!!

YETI!(This is meant as Edutainment so you can enjoy and learn)

The Yeti is an ape-like creature. They are taller than an average man. It can walk like a man and has long white or brown hairs covering its whole body.

Colors vary between sightings; sometimes they're snowy white to match the camouflage of the Himalayas.And sometimes in different colors: reddish brown, bluish gray, cream, coffee, light gray, white and light brown.

They are found in the Himalayas. Inhabiting Nepal,Tibet and Russia and India, the Yetis according to modern sightings are said to stand from 8 to 10.5 feet tall, have a furry coat of brown, reddish or black hair and to resemble a huge, upright walking ape.Several expeditions have taken place to find the Yetis, however, only footprints, bones, and hair samples have been discovered-

The "Yeti" or "Abominable Snowman" is a variety found high in the Himalayan Mountains(round Shangri-La), commonly depicted with white fur in fiction.

The Yeti was even mentioned in pre-Buddhist cultures, such as the Lecha people, who worshiped a "Glacier Giant." Tibetan and Nepalese monasteries have collected several skulls and bones of the yetis, some of which reside in the Smithsonian Museum today. Although one of their specimens was proven to be a human bone, others stored in the museum are still in question.

In Buddhist mythology, the Yetis were peaceful creatures that were very shy, and lived in dense snow caves on the glaciers which form the Ganges River in India some legends even state that they had their own tribes and chiefs. In modern times, most sightings and evidence are on K2. The name Yeti derives from "Yeh-Tah", meaning "rock thing".

Around the time of the 16th century the number of yeti sightings and alleged meetings significantly decreased,why did this happen?Skeptics say because people stopped making so many fairy tales…however according to legend they were hunted and feared by many locals and so some went into hiding deep into the himalayas whilst another legend states they were taken under the protective wing of a cossack warrior and left to whereabouts unknown….

Tibetan

Michê : translates as "man-berar”

Dzu-teh – 'dzu' translates as "cattle" and the full meaning translates as "cattle bear",

Migoi or Mi-go translates as "wild man".

Nepalian

Bun Manchi – Nepali for "jungle man" that is used outside Sherpa communities where yeti is the common name.

Mirka – Another name for "wild-man". Local legend holds that "anyone who sees one dies or is killed". The latter is taken from a written statement by Frank Smythe's sherpas in 1937.

Kang Admi – "Snow Man".

Jungli Admi – "Wild Man".

Xueren Chinese: 雪人 - "Snow Man"

Fun Fact!

The name Abominable Snowman was coined in 1921, the year Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Howar-Bury led a reconnaissance mission which he chronicled in Mount Everest The Reconnaissance, 1921. In the book, Howard-Bury includes an account of crossing the Lhagpa La at 21,000 ft (6,400 m) where he found footprints that he believed "were probably caused by a large 'loping' grey wolf, which in the soft snow formed double tracks rather like those of a bare-footed man". He adds that his Sherpa guides "at once volunteered that the tracks must be that of 'The Wild Man of the Snows', to which they gave the name 'metoh-kangmi'".. "Metoh" translates as "man-bear" and "kang-mi" translates as "snowman".

--------------------------------------------------

Now i invite you to a journey to a land which boundaries are that of imagination!A story.....that you will not believe! Little does anyone know that a threat IS COMING!!!! Pitch while powerfull and dangerous....this....is far worse! There is far more at stake then just belief! (It was alluded to in certain offical rotg content) And will have some details about the past.

Find out on MARCH 27TH!!! WHO WILL SAVE US????? And what is this giant threat that will imperil everyone?

[psalm22-6]

Source: the Bay Area Reporter, 20 July 2000

There was a time when the future of the musical theater looked like Les Miserables. Now it‘s starting to look like nostalgia. 

This standard bearer for the humorless quasi-operatic epic is back in San Francisco after a seven-year hiatus, like a visit from an old friend who isn’t quite as fascinating as you once thought. The touring production at the Curran Theatre is a perfectly respectable affair, but emotional connections have given way to cordial appreciations.

Victor Hugo’s sprawling novel is recounted in the broadest of strokes, like a phonebook sized issue of the old Classics Illustrated Comics. But watching how the musical manages to coherently communicate such an expanse of storytelling becomes part of the entertainment. 

Originally created as an outdoor spectacle for a Paris sports arena, Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil’s sung-through adaptation of Hugo was massaged into a more traditional theatrical format by directors John Caird and Trevor Nunn. Even if the ubiquitous turntable and the other devices they employed are beginning to seem a little yellowed at the edges, the economy and grace with which the story is told remains an impressive sight. 

The backbone of the show is Schonberg’s music that manages to lace battle hymns, lullabies, and personal anthems with a contemporary edge that doesn’t sound anachronistic. The music sounds important, but possesses a repetitive simplicity that makes it accessible in the moment and less interesting in the long run. The English lyrics that Herbert Kretzmer based on Boublil’s French originals can fall into simplistic rhymes and unexpected phrases like “What’s up?” but they fill the large emotional outlines set by the music. This is not a stripped-down production at the Curran, but a faithful replica of what’s been playing on Broadway for 14 years. The cast is a spirited, talented group that shows few signs of road fatigue. The sound, though, was often out of balance at a performance well into the Curran run. Ivan Rutherford as the noble Jean Valjean, Graham Rowat (subbing for Stephen Bishop) as the obsessed Inspector Javert, Joan Almedilla as the godforsaken Fantine, Aymee Garcia and JP. Dougherty as the comically sinister Thernadiers, and Diana Kaarina as their pitiful daughter Eponine all impressively inhabit their characters. But as the young hero Marius, Tim Howar can get lost in the crowd, and as his beloved Cosette, Regan Thiel comes up short with a lightweight voice and personality. Like all successes, Les Miserables was in sync with its times. But classics are in sync with all times. Victor Hugo’s novel is a classic. Its musical counterpart seems increasingly unlikely to become one as well. Les Miserables will run at the Curran Theatre through Sept. 16. Tickets are $17-$77. Call 512-7770.

[cringelordofchaos]

WHAT

there

THERE SOIGNG ATO BE A MANGA. AN OMORI MANGA>"??

HUAhD?

iaS THIS FAKE ????IM ocnfused

i wish i was more. excited about this but i feel numb

HOW ARE THEY even going to like. idk. there are multiple omori endings, no? howare they going to implement that onto a manga? unless they make it an interactive manga ?? (ive read kids books like taht where you actually sort of have control over the storyline)

like im a bit confused, very curious and if its real i willlread it no question but

huh

[cometomecosette]

Video Review: Les Misérables, 3rd National Tour, 2000, Act II (long)

Here’s the second half of my review of this complete Les Mis performance, which I wrote some time ago but I'm sharing again in honor of Barricade Day.

Main Cast

Jean Valjean: Ivan Rutherford

Javert: Stephen Bishop

Fantine: Joan Almedilla

Thénardier: J.P. Dougherty

Mme. Thénardier: Aymee Garcia

Marius: Tim Howar

Enjolras: Kevin Earley

Éponine: Sutton Foster

Cosette: Regan Thiel

Grantaire/Bamatabois: Trent Blanton

Young Cosette: Stephanie Mieko Cohen

Gavroche: Christopher Carlson

“Upon These Stones,” “On My Own,” “The Barricade,” “Javert at the Barricade,” “Little People”

Sometimes the smallest details can change our impressions of a character. For example, Sutton’s Éponine purposefully gets Marius’s attention by touching his back as she walks past him. Éponines who do this create a different sense of their desires and motives than Éponines who don’t. There’s also a big difference between Éponines who sing “Little you know! Little you care!” alone after Marius leaves and those who, like Sutton here, sing it as an outburst directly to Marius’s face, angrily snatching the letter from his hand. Every Éponine I ever saw in both the 3rd National Tour and the 2006 Broadway revival did the latter. Personally, I think it’s a bit petulant compared to singing the line alone. But if we assume she’s come to the barricade hoping Marius will finally love her for joining the battle – which her purposefully letting him know she’s there might imply – and yet he still doesn’t get it, I suppose an outburst to his face is understandable.

I like that neither Tim’s Marius nor Ivan’s Valjean are too harsh with Éponine. Tim strikes a good balance between stern and caring, while Ivan is nicely gentle instead of automatically treating her like a spy for Javert. His letter-reading is good too, though I wish the camera showed his face instead of focusing on Éponine as she eavesdrops.

I’ve written about Sutton’s “On My Own” before, but I’ll restate my feelings here. I honestly don’t think anyone has ever sung the song more beautifully; her voice is like flame and crystal combined in sound form. And her journey from happy dreams to raw anger and despair is vivid and deeply felt without a trace of sentimentality. I can’t fault it, even though I personally don’t care much for angry renditions of this song.

The barricade boys’ pledge to hold the barricade and defiance of the officer’s warning are gripping as they should be, especially the magnificent high A sung by Ben Davis’s Feuilly on “We’ll be there!” It’s no wonder that he went on to sing operatic roles as well as musical theatre.

Christopher’s Gavroche comes into his own in “Little People.” His Act I might have been slightly bland, but here I can fully believe in his spunk and cheek.

Kevin’s commanding presence as Enjolras and the rich-voiced stolidness of Stephen’s Javert are still outstanding.

The tone of the “Little People” scene definitely changes when the now usually-cut lines before and after “Shoot me now or shoot me later…” are included. Instead of just a few boys clamoring ineffectually in the background to shoot Javert, the barricade erupts into chaos after Javert is outed as a spy, with Courfeyrac, Feuilly and others forming an impromptu firing squad to shoot him in blatant defiance of Enjolras’s orders, and with Enjolras and Combeferre’s cooler heads just barely prevailing in the end. I still wonder why the scene was written this way, when it has no basis in the novel. I can only assume the musical’s authors thought it would be more moving to see the barricade boys come close to falling into bloodlust and anarchy under the stress of adversity, only to ultimately choose idealism, courage and unity, than if they were always disciplined and unified. Maybe on the stage, this is true.

At any rate, I like the detail of Gavroche grabbing a gun to join the impromptu firing squad and a woman trying to wrest the gun from him. It’s a welcome, subtle touch of comic relief and fully in character for the boy.

“A Little Fall of Rain,” Night of Anguish,” “First Attack, “Drink With Me”

Kudos to Sutton for remembering to act wounded even before she collapses, climbing very slowly down the barricade, having to stop and rest midway down, and then clutching Marius for support. Not all other Éponines do that. During the song she never cries out or writhes in pain, but I think it works. The motionless tension of her body makes me assume that her Éponine is hiding her pain from Marius, which fits with the lyrics, and of course lets us focus on the moment’s tender emotions. In the last verse, I like the way she gently fades away, loosening her grip on Marius’s arm and lying completely still except to move her lips as she sings, but then, at the very end, finding the strength to pull herself up and kiss him. It evokes the way Hugo’s Éponine lies so motionless that Marius thinks she’s already dead, only to open her eyes and utter her love confession.

Tim’s concern and tenderness compliment Sutton’s performance perfectly, and though his grief is quiet and understated, it’s still poignant.

The moment when Enjolras comforts Marius is understated yet touching too. Kevin’s Enjolras is clearly pained by Éponine’s death but seems at a loss for what to say or do for Marius. In the end, a silent shared arm-clasp is all that’s needed.

When Valjean arrives, the Amis take a fairly calm, wary yet respectful approach to interrogating him, lowering their guns as soon as they realize he’s not a real National Guardsman. I’m tempted to like this better than versions like the 2012 movie where they’re aggressive and almost ready to shoot him on sight, although the latter is valid too.

During the battle, I see another detail I remember reading about in reviews. When Kevin’s Enjolras kneels down to assist the student who’s been wounded by the sniper, only to be narrowly missed by another bullet from said sniper, he falls backward and sits paralyzed in shock, looking like “a frightened little blond boy” (as I remember one fan writing) until Valjean helps him up. I know that some fans can be touchy about Enjolras showing any weakness, but I personally don’t mind this detail. It’s only a brief moment, and like the above-mentioned moment with Marius, it’s a humanizing image that makes Enjolras believable not only as a staunch leader, but as a young man facing the threat of death for the first time. (Yes, I know Hugo’s Enjolras also fought in 1830, but the musical never mentions this.)

Besides, I love the way Grantaire snaps out of his motionless stupor to reach out to Enjolras when that brush with death occurs.

Stephen and Ivan are both excellent in the releasing scene. Stephen moves believably from rage and disgust at having Valjean as his executioner, to confusion when he’s freed, to smug disdain when he thinks he’s figured out Valjean’s motive, to a slow, speechless, dumbfounded exit, while by contrast Ivan’s Valjean remains staunchly calm, not losing his temper at Javert’s insults, but firmly committed to doing the right thing.

Moving on to “Drink With Me,” Trent’s Grantaire puts an interesting spin on his solo by addressing specific lines to specific individuals, to whom (if we know the Ami’s individual personalities in the novel) each line has the most meaning. “Can it be you fear to die?” he directs to Joly, the hypochondriac. “Will the world remember you when you fall?” is aimed at Feuilly, the orphan who has no family to remember him. And of course “Will your death be one more lie?” he addresses to Enjolras.

Then we have a beautiful Enjolras/Grantaire reconciliation, which unfortunately the cameraperson only shows us in part. Enjolras first stares at Grantaire, then angrily grabs his shoulder, with poor Grantaire shielding his face as if he expects to be hit. But then they gaze at each other, for a long time, and then finally, warmly clasp hands. It’s too bad that the cameraperson chooses to pan around the stage during their long shared gaze instead of showing us their expressions leading up to the hand-clasp. But I suppose the E/R relationship wasn’t quite at the fandom’s forefront in 2000 the way it is now (it was already a popular ship, if I remember correctly from my middle and high school days, but slightly less so than Éponine/Marius or Enjolras/female OCs).

Tim’s soft, sad delivery of Marius’s verse at the end is very touching and I like the consoling pat on the knee Trent’s Grantaire gives him before walking away

The ensemble work is excellent, as always.

“Bring Him Home,” “Dawn of Anguish,” “Second Attack (Death of Gavroche),” “The Final Battle,” “Dog Eats Dog”

Ivan’s “Bring Him Home” is beautiful.

I hope that someday, somehow I see a production of Les Mis that includes the “Drink With Me” reprise. It add so much more emotional weight than there is when the women simply hurry off and the battle commences. By the way, here’s a question for people who were fans before the cuts were made. Did the “Drink With Me” reprise always end with Enjolras and Marius clasping arms at the top of the barricade? Was this a universal part of Nunn and Caird’s staging? It’s a beautiful reinforcement of Enjolras and Marius’s friendship and Marius’s now-unwavering loyalty to his friends, but still, if I were to direct a new production, I’d be tempted to have Grantaire share that moment with Enjolras instead. I think it might be a better moment for their reconciliation than “Drink With Me.”

Christopher’s Gavroche is still less vivid than others I’ve seen, and the moment of his death looks slightly unconvincing (he breaks the fall with his hands a bit too obviously), but he still gives a solid performance overall.

To the very end, Kevin’s Enjolras is fully believable as the staunch, dignified, heroic leader, yet still a human being. His slow descent from the barricade after Gavroche’s death – the only movement onstage while everyone else is frozen in shock and grief – and seeming obliviousness to the offstage officer’s voice as he stands and ponders what’s happened and what’s to come is both poignant and true to the spirit of Hugo’s Enjolras. We can sense his pain, yet he faces it with stoic dignity and undying courage. His “Let others rise…” is powerful, even though he neither shouts nor goes for the high note on “…is free!”

And then there’s the heartbreaking moment after Marius falls, when Enjolras hurries to him, throws poor Grantaire aside, and tries vainly and irrationally to revive his seemingly dead friend before rushing off to his own death. Some might argue that this is out of character for Hugo’s Enjolras, and it’s definitely not realistic for the middle of a battle when, as Hugo repeatedly writes, you can’t stop for anything. But it’s moving, although I would have liked a more meaningful last interaction with Grantaire than just a quick glance.

The fall of the barricade and the tableau of Enjolras’s body on the barricade are epic and heartbreaking, as always. No other staging can surpass the original.

J.P.’s Thénardier definitely feels more alive in his sinister scenes than in the comedy scenes. I’m not quite sure why I always remembered him as being mainly a comic Thénardier. It was probably his looks, I’m sorry to say – it was too easy to mentally pigeonhole him as “the funny fat guy.” At any rate, his “Dog Eats Dog” is deliciously dark and mocking.

“The Sewers,” “Javert’s Suicide,” “Turning,” “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables,” “Every Day”

I remember one thing J.P.’s Thénardier used to do that annoyed fans back in the day was to silently break the fourth wall by visibly waiting for the audience to applaud after “Dog Eats Dog,” then shrug his shoulders when they didn’t. He did this the first time I saw the show. But thankfully he doesn’t do it here.

Kudos to Ivan for actually carrying Marius throughout the sewer sequence. We get none of the standard “Marius tries his best to look unconscious and disguise the fact that he’s actually walking while Valjean supports him” business seen in so many other performances.

Stephen gives a powerful rendition of “Javert’s Suicide,” both in his sumptuous voice and in his vivid rage and torment.

“Turning” is poignant, as it should be. The fact that the pregnant woman is played by a black actress instantly makes me think of the fandom’s widely-accepted headcanon of Musichetta as a woman of color – as far a my imagination is concerned, it’s her, and the unborn baby’s father was either Joly or Bossuet. I’ll also imagine that she’ll eventually meet Marius and Cosette and they’ll help to support her and provide for the baby.

Tim’s “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” is beautiful and moving. His warm, darkly-shaded voice is wonderfully suited to the music, and while his grief is subtly conveyed, it can still be deeply felt. This is a trend throughout this particular performance, I think: the story is told with as little sentimentality as the material allows, and the male characters in particular are all played with a stoicism not seen in other portrayals, but their emotions can still be felt no matter how quiet they are.

The uncut “Every Day” is gently and sweetly performed by Regan, Tim, and Ivan when he joins them. The ending is adorable, with Marius and Cosette holding hands and almost face-to-face when they notice Valjean watching them, and being the modest 19th century pair they are, quickly draw apart and try to look “seemly,” only for Valjean to lovingly rejoin their hands. Unfortunately, Regan goes a bit off-pitch on her final note, but that note tends to be a hit-or-miss one for most Cosettes.

“Valjean’s Confession,” “Wedding Chorale/Beggars at the Feast”

Ivan and Tim are both spot-on in “Valjean’s Confession.” Ivan is more stoic than Hugo’s Valjean is in this scene, but this is true of his Valjean throughout, and as always, in his subtle way he still conveys his struggle and pain. I’ve heard other Valjeans be more forceful and demanding on “Promise me, M’sieur, Cosette will never know!” but the way Ivan’s voice becomes so soft and pleading instead is probably even more disarming to Marius.

Moving on to the wedding, it’s so nice to hear Marius’s exchange with the Thénardiers uncut. Éponine is remembered, her parents earn more hate with their cold, selfish response, and they build up their revelation about Valjean with just the right preamble to entice Marius – even if they do have to chase him around the ballroom to do it. I notice that Tim’s Marius tries to walk away before Thénardier brings up the “murder” (presumably he thinks they’re just going to reveal that Valjean is a convict, which he already knows), but a soon as Thénardier makes the murder claim, he becomes concerned and listens. This is different from Niklas Andersson’s London Marius in the same year (so far the only other video I’ve watched of the uncut scene), who stalked away in disgust after Thénardier made the murder claim, refusing to believe that Valjean could be a killer as well as a thief.

Regan’s Cosette looks appropriately startled and confused after Thénardier drags her into a wild spinning dance and then Marius punches him. I wonder if she recognized him in that moment?

J.P. and Aymee do a fine job with the Thénardiers’ final flourish. Just enough slapstick to get laughs (e.g. Aymee’s pantalette-flashing fall when she tries to curtsy, the business with the dropped silver later), but not enough to turn them into caricatures. “Beggars at the Feast” is just the right exuberant uplift (however cynical the lyrics) that we need before the finale.

Epilogue

As is characteristic of this cast, Valjean’s death and heavenward ascent are depicted calmly and gently, with tears and sentimentality kept to a minimum, but with genuine love and warmth in abundance. Ivan’s Valjean infuses his last moments with quiet dignity and tenderness, as well as beautiful soft singing, while Joan’s Fantine is appropriately angelic, and Regan’s Cosette, Tim’s Marius and Sutton’s Éponine beautifully round out the scene. The moment when Fantine kneels before Valjean and he reaches out to take her hand, only for Cosette to take her mother’s place for their last reunion, is very touching. So is the way Regan’s Cosette lingers over her father’s lifeless body, staring into his face in utter disbelief until finally Marius gently draws her away. The little hug she gives Marius near the end of the final chorus is also as sweet as can be (as I’ve mentioned before, they were a couple in real life at the time).

The final chorus is magnificent, as it always should be. An excellent end to an excellent performance.

[imraespace]

HIHIHI

ITSOKAY IF U DIDNT TEPLY YESTERDAY DWDWDW i will literally kick those kids for you and I HIPE YOURE FEELING OKAY NOW BE SURE TO TAKE YOUR MEDICINE POOPIE ☹️☹️ DONT PASS OUT IN THE HEAT (this sounds really wrong if u think of it another way STOP)

the rain did u so dirty with that like it shouldve just waited to fall until u got home 😡😡 I HATE IT WHEN GLASSES GET WET BC OF THE RAIN 💔💔 i dont actually wear glasses anymore bc of these special contacts i wear but i remmever walking in rain before and it was sso annoying BC ALL THE DROPLETS WERE ON MY LENS

WOAH THE CAT JUMPING THROUGU THE WINDOW IS WILD TO ME LIEK I ALREADY GET SURPRISED WHEN MY RABBIT JUMPS ON MY LAP BUT THE DAMN CAT ATE UR FOOD TOO☹️☹️ id honestly hate cats after that if that happened to me

dead animals as gifts lowk gross me out even tho its like “i love u have mt gift!!!!” in animal language LIKE I GET IT BUT IDK I CANT HANDLE ANIMAL DEATH WITBOUT BEING SAD FOR A LITTLE BIT

I HOPE YOU ATE ALREADY CB U DIDNT HAVE ANYTBING YESTERDAY 👿👿 i also woke up to cramps its okay pookei we will fet through this together

BUTI HIPE URE DOING BETTER NOOWOOWWW HOWARE YOUU ill cormvakc gor daily chekcin later 😈😈

- 🐙

HAII HELP i wanted to fr one of them is a girl who stares at ppl who talks to her bf but NO ONE WANTS HIM😒 they're literally talking abt spanish bc he's in our Spanish class like calm down gal!! ALSO I DID TOOK THRM I took my medicine when I got home I think

IKR IT ONLY RAINED WHEN SCHOOL WAS OVER

THAT CAT ALWAYS SCARES ME WHEN IT JUMPS THROUGH THE WINDOW AND IKR THE DEAD ANIMAL THING IS GROSS like ik its a "gift" but it's nasty☹️ AND THEN WE HAVE TO CLEAN IT UO AND ITS UEVAHH the last one it brought it.. bit through the animal.. and I left my friend to clean it up..

AND YES I ATE!! I ate my pancakes it was yummy jrhehehe IM BETTER NOWW

ARE YOU STILL SICK?? j hope you're getting better even though you got tests n stuff