#flighty talky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astrology-by-sita · 4 months ago

Text

ON AQUARIUS RISINGS ♒️

This is a part of a series on the rising signs not necessarily in Zodiacal order.

Aquarius risings are social outcasts who feel that they don't belong in their birthplace. Saturn rules 12h and 1h. Night charts especially feel like their society doesn't want them. Their ruler exalts in 9h in libra - the house of foreign lands and religion. But they aren't really religious. They can be critical especially of conventional religion. Saturn exalts in libra because aquarians have that skepticism over traditional religion.

They exalt as in get success and status when they show a formidable rational critique of the dominant doctrine and dogma. They shift societal trends and paradigms. Karl Marx is a great example of an aquarius rising who reaches prominence by critiquing the dominant system in society, an economic system which privileges only the bourgeoisie.

They talk a lot they can be as talky as geminis cause they have aries in 3h and where you have aries is where you're impulsive. But their ruler saturn debilitates in 3h so they won't get success there. Talking just for the sake of talking takes them nowhere but if they show a rational, alternative view of the structures of society they'll be prominent influential figures in their country and even the world.

They view the general as well as the specific. Sagittarius 11h gives them a general (sagittarius) view on human society (11h) but saturn is also particular and detail oriented. Virgo 8h - they transform everything around them (8h) when they get into the details. They can transform a malfunctioning institution or organization into a more functional and efficient one for benefit of all members. State reform and organizational reform is their specialty.

11h is 4h from 8h - the home of 8h. Societal transformation and paradigm shifts are the basis of every personal transformation taking place in 8h. Aquarius has got the best of both. Jupiter is too busy with his grand visions to be occupied with details and mercury is too nitpicky, flighty, to visualize generalities. Saturn does both! Saturn is about small restrictions and binds but it rejoices in 12h where we transcend them all. Saturn rules their 12h.

They have scorpio 10h so bosses and authority figures are threatened by them. They can be better than their bosses at their job so the authority people sense a threat or intimidation. They don't get on well with people of higher positions than them. Especially day charts. Unlike Leos who might try to pander to people in power on order to reach status(Venus ruling 10h),aquarians don't do that and hate that as well. They'd rather work on their own as their 10h ruler Mars exalts in 12h in capricorn.

They have gemini 5h so without intellectual stimulation they won't be attracted to you. You have to impress their intellect and mind. Now let's address the elephant in the room, the moon ruling 6h. People close to aquarius risings (moon is close emotional connections) throw unnecessary burdens on their shoulders. People expect aquarius to serve them and when the aquarius rightfully sets boundaries, problems arise.

Sun rules 7h and 7h is sunset so it's not really a good place for the sun unless the condition of the sun plus its domicile lord states otherwise.

Aquarius get egoistic partners or partners who try to control them. They get arrogant partners who expect the aquarius to serve them. Sometimes partners who gossip behind their back as sun their 7h ruler exalts in 3h.

They should keep in mind that a healthy relationship is supposed to be between two equals. I think they and capricorns both know this deep down better than anyone cause their ruler exalts in libra the sign of equal partnership.

What the aquarius wants first of all is an identity, to be somebody. Where you have aquarius in your chart is what you wish for. They have it in 1h, so they wish for some sense of self. Of course saturn delays that but it never denies. They do find themselves even if somehow later in life. They are late bloomers but once they bloom they're unstoppable trend setters and ideological geniuses.

42 notes · View notes

monkeyssalad-blog · 6 months ago

Video

Alice Brady by Truus, Bob & Jan too! Via Flickr: Vintage Swedish postcard. Förlag Nordisk Konst, Stockholm, No. 907. Alice Brady (born Mary Rose Brady, 1892–1939) was an American stage and screen actress, who began her career in the silent film era and survived the transition into talkies. Brady's father William Brady, a reputed theatrical producer, moved into movie production in 1913 with his new company World Film, and Brady soon followed along after him, making her first silent feature appearance in 1914, followed by another twenty films at World Film. All while she continued to perform on the New York stage, as World Film was situated in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Now mostly forgotten, World Film was highly active during the 1910s as production and distribution company, which even had a separate, all-French section with French emigre directors such as Léonce Perret, Emile Chautard, Maurice Tourneur, and Albert Capellani. In 1918 Alice Brady moved to Select Pictures of former World Film manager Lewis Selznick (father of David). In 1921 she acted at Reelart and in 1921-1923 at Paramount. In 1923, Brady stopped appearing in films to concentrate on stage acting, and did not appear on the screen again until 1933. After that she acted in another 25 sound pictures. All in all Brady acted in some 80 films. She worked until six months before her death from cancer in 1939. Her films include My Man Godfrey (1936), in which she plays the flighty mother of Carole Lombard's character, and In Old Chicago (1937) for which she won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. Between 1919 and 1922 Alice Brady was married to actor James Crane, with whom she acted in three films and had one son, Donald. Source: French and English Wikipedia, IMDB.

2 notes · View notes

dishtothedeath · 2 years ago

Text

from merry-go-rounds, to ferris wheels | bonbon | chapter two | body reaction

“Do you like ferris wheels, ▇▇▇▇▇ ?”

Even when speaking casually, the voice of Luchino Ricci possessed the particular timbre of erudition; the suggestion that, to every question he ever asked, he always knew what would be said, and so Bonbon never really needed to say anything at all beyond what was needed for propriety. That was Ricci’s tendency, to always speak at and for instead of with, and for his protégé to chime in when dramatically appropriate. Perhaps smart people were just prone to that. Ricci was smart, he knew, and Ricci wanted to be listened to, and it was good to listen to smart people closely, so all was good and right up in this metal box for two. This present question was a case where what Bonbon answered didn’t really matter, as it was a polite segue into what the Ringmaster wanted to say rather than a genuine question (he possessed a particular tone when he wanted a real answer, and it was far more pointed than this), and so tyke Bonbon, a flighty fifteen, felt free to answer honestly.

“Not really, sir.”

There hummed his low single huff laugh that Bonbon too inherited, but in a different quality. Bonbon’s was quick and sweet; the Ringmaster’s lingered, serpent-like and vespertine. It here was genuine, and the young boy’s chest rose at that.

“Not exciting enough for you?”

“No, sir, it’s not that. Jus’ seems like the thing you do once an’ not again. Long time up, long time down. Only at the top for a lone minute.”

“Oh, but boy, you underestimate how much the public enjoys a good routine,” he tsks. “Going somewhere without going anywhere, ending where you began, doing it all again, that’s good fun, and it’s fun without risk. I find it meditative, almost, the round and round. Round and round for day and night. Life’s like that, isn’t it? Like merry-go-rounds, and teacups, eighty odd years of deja vu before you’re back around the bend. But you’re on top, even for a lone minute. Is that not something?”

Bonbon doesn’t quite understand the waxing the Ringmaster sometimes does, but he knows this is a request for concurrence. So he nods, and his reward is the fine silk glove ruffles his hair.

“Atta boy, Arlecchino. Atta boy.”

Eighty odd years of deja vu, give or take twenty five.

A few weeks of deja vu, back around the bend. Fear’s gone, the voice fades. The ride’s bigger, this time.

Hey, look at the bright side! That’s what a clown would do, eh? All good things come in threes, so it’s sure to happen again! If another two of his friends bite it next time, and darling starlet, there will be a next time, Bonbon should try a spin at the lottery. He’ll win big, certainly, might even survive! This’s life now, an up, a down, an all-the-way-around. One more button to press, one more person to get burnt, stabbed, television dressed. Silhouettes of people last much more when they themselves are gone, eternal little show clips, painted like the pictures, evolving from silent films to talkies to the never ending engine that wears you oh so snug after the end.

Isn’t it so real now? Entertainment at its rawest, no maybe nots, no ifs, just yes, yes, yes! All the flukes and false flags have been dashed against the rocks, their temples bleeding red. Twenty five grand and the weight of seventeen dead. On top, even for a lone minute.

Charybdis was more than anyone here ever gave her credit for. Feisty like a boxer, stinging like nettle, fierce and offensive and unflinchingly themselves. So relentless were they that it seemed impossible for them to burn out, that was star quality, the need not to be just number one, but the only one, Charybdis di Prima beyond household name.

But he got to see a softer side to them— the part that had grown out of the shell of a holed up sick kid, eager and giggly and full of wonder the world hadn’t beaten out of them. Wasn’t it a few days ago they were laughing over multiplying dice and hat tricks, or talking about nothing so serious while boiling in a hot tub, or even, oh so recent, like he could reach out and touch their shoulder kindly still, that he’d found them huddled in a blanket with a wall of cutouts behind them? Every time, he could turn Charybdis’s sharp face soft with a laugh, sprinkle a touch of delight into her life. Right there, visible awe, awe that he brought. It made him feel so meaningful, so thankful, to bring even a fraction of that twinkle, that light. Like he was the best Bonbon he could be: giving back, entertaining, making laughter feel easy again. Choked here now without breath.

And Masaji, dear Masaji, whose head’s part caved in, wasn’t he darling too? So impressed by even the idlest of clownish things, the scarves he would sneeze, his bevy of props, his simple backbends, a man who lived simply and was ripe for show magic to be sprinkled in. What a quaint guy, mild mannered and wishing only the best for everyone and the meagerest settlement for him. Perhaps behind the camera, at the back of the stage, he could really do the most for the people around him, frame them in the best light, know when to ooh and ah, pull back, lean in, not because he was rigidly practiced, no, quite opposite. Sincerity dripped from him, sweet as the syrup of his stacks of pancakes. There was not a bad thing to say about Masaji; his worst attribute that he was plum scared of the lenses he was familiar with at last focusing on him. Bonbon would be there at the first utter of an uh or hey to help settle down those stage nerves. A joke, a reprieve, Masaji always appreciated it even when it didn’t land. Hard to say that he was anything but a good man. No, most certainly, a good man.

That tenacity, that goodness, what’s it matter now? The sharp knife of Hadopelagia, the kindly faced photographer dad, they would now be known first and foremost from now on for winding up on TV stone, stark, dead. There’s a girl who has to live with the image of her father cold corpse plastered on every billboard, and Charybdis, Charybdis told him that she didn’t have much of anybody left, and for someone who wanted to be recognized, isn’t being stamped off like this the nail on the coffin, the second face of death? Try your hardest, be your best, maxims and lies down to the very last dregs.

Nothing could save nobody.

People didn’t deserve to die. They just, did. Floppily and pathetic. Bonbon should know that, and yet, when he sees the bodies, he still can’t believe it could happen, surely not, surely not, no. Can’t believe that someone’s plan happened to topple through the two of them.

The last time Bonbon was faced with a corpse, he was inundated, overwhelmed. A clown should not be here, should not see this, a happy figure in a sea of dread. It’s okay now, though, it’s alright. Bonbon can take off his hat, say condolences, head back and bow out for the intermission. He’ll take care of it. That’s what he was always for, right? To hold the nasty thoughts, the dark ones, the heavy ones that were thick with life like lead. Grit his teeth, get through it, get it done. The laugh cuts through against both of their wills.

Masaji and Charybdis were murdered. Eye for an eye, hell and high water. He’s out to avenge.

#submission #ch2 #reaction #bonbon

0 notes

hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

Note

Please do a story where autistic max is getting bullied and billy steps in

warnings for ableism and implied child abuse.

Max is fourteen now. She doesn’t need anybody looking after her like she’s some baby or something just because she’s, as her mother had put it when she was refusing this very same notion, special. She can handle herself.

That’s what she believes at least, and definitely what Billy does too, the both of them tired of being babysit and doing the babysitting respectively, but her mother is very adamant on keeping her pearls clutched in one hand and the other tight fisted in any decision or action her daughter makes.

So naturally, because this is the same woman that thinks Max is immature and faking half her symptoms go spit her, she also assumes she’s completely incapable of taking care of herself, whether that’s because she’s disabled or because she’s a faker is another story, so that’s the way things go anyways, with her step brother having to watch her like she’s still seven years old and meeting him for the first time.

Their relationship is on the upswing after things settled in Hawkins, but Max still wants her independence and Billy wants to give it to her, the last thing a seventeen year old boy really want is to watch his little sister like she’s on a play date, so their usual agreement is for Billy to take Max wherever he gets told to take her and just drop her off, finding something else to do in the area until it’s time to pick her up.

That system had yet to fail them, so when Max gets an invite to the arcade literally the day after she gets ungrounded after sneaking out again for the third time since they moved to Hawkins and begs her mother for literal hours to let her go this time, the compromise is that she can go, but only as long as Billy goes with her, and just like usual, he just drops her off at the door with a promise to be back before too late, and drives off to go do something she probably doesn’t want to know the details of.

Her friends are already there, and they all play together for a little bit, but while Max was bargaining for permission and waiting for Billy to get his lecture from both parents before they could even think about leaving for the arcade, Lucas and Mike and Dustin and Will had already been there and playing, so by the time she showed up, it didn’t take long for them to get bored of being there or run out of pocket change.

Max doesn’t like plans changing though, and she came to the arcade to play, so even as the last of the party is getting on their bikes or in their own respective cars to be picked up, she just waves goodbye from the door before turning sharply back to the dig dug cabinet, too set on replacing every high score with her name to just leave on a whim because her friends were.

Similarly, Max also finds it pretty hard to keep track of time. It’s like once she starts doing something she planned to do, she has to finish it, so by the time she’s gotten bored of literally everything there is to play in the place and spent nearly every last quarter she’d been collecting for the weeks she was confined to the house as punishment, it’s already fallen dark outside, the arcade close to closing.

That’s not really a problem in it of itself, she has no curfew anymore now that she’s not off the hook, and anyways that was only ever about punishment, not safety, since her mother said bad things don’t happen in small towns. Billy argued that they do if you’re the right kind of person though, for which he got promptly smacked in the mouth, but Max thinks he’s probably right.

Because she’s autistic and she has a gay older brother, and currently she’s one of only a handful of kids left at the arcade at closing, and that is exactly the problem. Max is alone, at night, in a town that’s still mostly unfamiliar as with the person who was supposed to be watching her nowhere in sight, and she’s being tailed as she goes towards the double door exit by the only other kids there, two boys and a girl all at least a year older than her whose names she’d never really caught.

This wouldn’t be her first run in with this group. She’s just an easy target, and that’s exactly what they’re looking for, and these three had been picking on her practically since she showed her face in the arcade for the first time. Only they’d never really stayed this late, and the extent of their tormenting was typically unoriginal insults thrown from the other side of the room that she was bored of and could ignore pretty easily.

She’d like to think that maybe this wasn’t a bad thing going to happen, just a coincidence that those three were still lurking around. Keith was about to close up the arcade anyways, so they were probably just waiting until it closed to leave too.

Max realizes that definitely isn’t the case though when the second they’re out those glass front doors, the girl roughly snatches her bag off of her shoulder.

Usually she’d leave the bag in Billy’s car when she went out somewhere, but she had enough extra money saved up tonight that she wanted it in a change purse instead of her pocket so she didn’t lose it, and since the change purse was small and easy to misplace and her brain a little bit flighty, she just brought the whole bag.

The whole bag which happened to have everything of importance to her in it, not only her money, but also her notebook, her school id, and all of her stim toys.

By her parents' rules, she wasn’t allowed to stim loudly or in a way they deemed embarrassingly, especially not in public, so she brought toys with her everywhere, and now they were being stolen from her because she was too busy trying to think like Susan, that nothing bad could possibly happen, unless of course she brought it on herself, but that’s just not the case.

And either way, she needed those toys back, the situation at home worsening and leaving behind her favorite behavior therapist during the move and so many other things had made her stress skyrocket, and likewise her meltdowns, so she truly needed those toys to help her.

“Give that back!” Max insists after a pause where she was trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, and tries to snatch the bag back, grabbing the straps and trying to pull it back towards herself when the girl starts rummaging through it.

All that gets her is being shoved roughly into one of the boys, who grabs onto her arm tight enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips on her pale skin, and a taunting sneer of, “Sorry, retard. Finders keepers.”

The girl digs around in her bag, looking for a wallet or a checkbook or something, but Max wasn’t even trusted to take her walkie talkie out of the house, let alone any actual money other than the quarters she and Billy saved up, so other than the now empty coin purse, she was broke.

When all she finds is Max’s things, she drops the bag, making everything she’d disrupted spill out of it, and curses, “What the hell is all this junk?”

Max isn't really listening though, because the minute the bag spilt, the two boys took to picking the things they thought might be of value, and in the case of the things they didn’t, like her magic snake that clicked in just the right way when it moved, they’d drop them again, and literally stomp on them, or snap them in two first.

Her mind is much too focused on watching her toys be broken or stolen, that just she doesn’t hear it when she’s asked a question. She very much feels the consequence though, a slap to the back of the head from the boy who didn’t have a grip on her arm hard enough to make her neck sore and bring tears to her eyes, so she forces herself to tune back into things.

“We asked you a question, dumbass. Why are you carrying around a bag of toys like a baby or somethin’?”

“B-Because I need them so I can stim.” Max answers honestly, trying her damndest not to cry, to prove to them she was not a baby, but it didn’t feel like it was too far off, as she was getting more and more emotionally overwhelmed, also getting closer and closer to a meltdown.

“Stim? What the hell is that?” She hears one of the boys ask, and the other chimes in, “Probably something to do with being retarded.”

The older girl snaps at the boys arguing behind Max, “Does it matter? Let’s just take her money and get the hell out of here.”

They keep arguing, and Max is again past the point of processing really anything that’s going on around her, the arcade with all its lights and noises and crowds was already an overwhelming sensory experience, and now with the other kids shouting at her and the aching bruises that were now forming on her skin, it’s all just too much for her.

It’s for that reason that she doesn’t have enough focus left for it to really click what’s happening other than the kids surrounding her freezing up, and bright lights and loud noises that make her squeeze her eyes shut and cover her ears.

What it is though is Billy, brights on, stopping with the front two wheels of the camaro on the sidewalk, and slamming his door hard enough as he gets out that it echoes off the trees way at the back of the arcade.

Billy’s yelling too, threats to call the police and damnation and all kinds of things that Max is too busy trying to remember how to breathe and pick up everything that had spilled out of her bag to hear, and the bullies end up scampering off once Billy’s voice gets scratchy and angry in that way it gets when he and Neil argue, dropping everything where it was and just bolting.

Max hears Billy sigh and sees his kneel down next to her, his face so much kinder to her than he had looked for those kids who were hurting her, come into her limited line of sight as he kneels down next to her on the sidewalk, which she hadn’t even noticed she had sat down on, and he asks her, “You okay, Max?”

And at first, Max was going to say yes, she’d taken worse than that from teachers who didn’t want stim toys in class and as punishments from her parents, but it scared her, the way that he had asked, because he didn’t call her shitbird or kiddo or brat face, he called her by her name, and she bursts into tears almost immediately after he asks.

She’s still not really in a meltdown, which was exhausting, those emotions needed to come out and they just weren't, but it’s still bad enough Billy has to sit fully down on the sidewalk and wait it out with her before they can get back in the car. He puts his hand high on her chest and makes her sit up straight to keep her breathing under control and lets her rock herself until Max’s heavy sobs eventually slow to a couple of stray tears, and then she nods, a wordless way to tell Billy she was ready to go home.

Before they can leave though, they still have more to talk about, a conversation that they don’t want their parents a part of, and they both know it. Still, the car is silent for a minute, nothing but the sound of Max’s sniffles and the creak of the leather steering wheel cover cracking under the pressure of Billy’s angry grip, fists opening and closing around it.

Max is the first to break it, her voice so weak with residual fear and tears it’s barely audible as she gets her brothers attention, “Billy?”

He sighs through his nose, to try to calm down before he talks to Max more than anything, and lets go of the wheel, knowing that was only making things worse, “What is it, kiddo?”

“Are you going to tell?” She’s doing that thing where she presses her palms together and pushes until her knuckles turn white, very clearly nervous asking, so Billy clarifies, “Do you want me to tell?”

Immediately Max shakes her head no. They both know this little incident could get them back on lockdown, Max because her mother would be worried for her precious, breakable little daughter, and Billy because he was supposed to be there.

Not that Billy gave a shit about saving his own hide at the moment, but if Max didn’t want him to tell and get them in heaps of trouble, he wouldn’t, and that’s exactly what he tells her, “Then no, we’ll keep it between us, but you gotta have an excuse ready for those bruises and scrapes.”

Max shrugs, almost too nonchalant, “I’m a skater, skaters get lots of injuries.”

“Don’t think I like how quick you came up with that.” Billy looks over at her, and Max’s gaze shifts to the window behind him as she responds bluntly, “Yeah, well I learned from the best, didn't I?”

“I guess you did.” Billy sighs, doesn’t like to admit the influence he’s had on Max’s in that way. He wants to lead a good example, be the big brother she needed him to be and instead he was teaching her how to lie to her parents and make excuses for injuries.

Though really, in the case of their parents, he guesses that was exactly the type of brother he needed to be. One who teaches her how to avoid her abusers instead of how to avoid annoying boys at school, and who will help her figure out loopholes to punishments and rules instead of her math homework. Just the thought of that concept makes his chest ache.

He starts the car, noting that the vibrations of the engine through the car help to ease the tension out of Max’s shoulders and revving it a couple more times than necessary, “Let’s just get you home, shitbird.”

#max mayfield #billy hargrove #billy & max #autistic max #ej writer #story by ej!#tw ableism #tw r slur #tw child abuse #thank you anon for the request!! sorry it took a while!#hope this’ll do for what you were looking for!#requests

48 notes · View notes

skycrystal23 · 6 years ago

Note

What if Markus had deviated like a year before the begining of the game, and had fallen in love for Carls daughter? They have the fluffiest lovestory, start to create a group with humans and android, but then Markus format his own memory to keep the reader safe. Reader leads the group alone ever since. Time skip, Markus goes to Jericho, meet the readers group and during the first demonstration, the reader gets shot to protect Markus, and then he remenber everything, but he already is with North!

I’m so sorry this took so long but viola! Request filled!

Markus x Reader

FORGET ME NOT

Characters: Markus RK200, Reader, North

Warnings: Character death

Words: 4,000 (approx.)

NOVEMBER 2037

The snow was falling, sprinkling theground outside with its frozen white flakes. An old film was playing on the television,but you weren’t paying too much attention to it. Instead you were watching yourhalf brother Leo pace back and forth muttering to himself while he nervouslywrung his hands. His gaze was fixed on the Android that was in your room whohad his back to him as he folded your clothing and piled them on top of yourdresser. You could see the steady yellow glow of his LED in the mirror attachedto the dresser in front of him.

Leo was on it again, the Red Ice.You could tell by his flighty and erratic behaviour. He had a hatred forAndroids, especially the one in the room. He had burst into your room a fewminutes ago but had yet to say anything. It was almost like he was strugglingto find the words. Markus jumped off your bed all too quickly when he heard theheavy footsteps approach your room at an alarming pace. You and Leo were neverreally close, he appeared shortly after you did into your fathers’ life. CarlManfred, the famous artist, who seemed to have too much fun with women in hisearly playboy years.

The clock was ticking quietly, itwas the only noise you could focus on. Your gaze briefly flickered over toMarkus whose eyes locked onto yours in the mirror. He quickly looked away whenLeo finally opened his mouth. “I-I need some.” He said, his voice shaky. Younoticed his bloodshot eyes and the icy paleness to his skin. Leo needed helpbut whenever you offered it, he refused. You heard how addictive Red Ice was.It’d already killed hundreds of people across the country. “Leo, I don’tunderstand.” You said slowly standing from your bed. He lashed out when youtried to approach him, snarling at you and almost hitting you.

“MONEY – I…INEED MONEY!” He screamed.

At this point Markus turned aroundand walked over to the two of you. He seemed calm but the LED on the side ofhis head said otherwise with its red flashing light. “Do you require assistanceMs. Manfred?” He asked solely focusing on you. Just as you were about to answerLeo spoke up. “What,need your plastic pet to speak for you?” He hissed.

“Leoyou need to leave, come back when you can think straight.” You retorted.

“Wouldyou like me to escort you out?” Markus asked motioning for Leo to head to thedoor.

Leo grumbled something, most likelya curse, and stormed out of your bedroom. He slammed the door behind himleaving you stood there in complete shock. You still didn’t understand why yourfather allowed him access to the house with the state he was currently in. Assoon as you heard the front door to the house slam shut you let out a sigh ofrelief, feeling all the anxiety melt away from you. “I thought he was going tosee you, see us.” You said quietly while turning to Markus. Before Leo burstinto your room you and Markus were cuddled up on your bed watching an old film.

Humanand Android.

Together.

It wasn’t exactly unheard of; somepeople were even married to specialized household Androids who were supposed toact as a significant other. But Markus was different. He had always beendifferent from day one. Markus was hand crafted by Elijah Kamski himself, agift to your father in exchange for something your father had done for him. Youwrapped your arms around Markus and sunk into him, closing your eyes and takinga deep breath. “He would have probably torn you apart if he saw you with me.”You whispered. Leo despised Markus, he thought that he was replacing him insome way.

You wished people knew what you knewabout Androids. They weren’t just pieces of machinery; they were so much more,and Markus was proof. He was alive. Therewere others like him. They were hidden away underground. That was your sidejob, you were helping Androids like him that needed to escape. You knew justhow cruel some people were to the people like Markus. You couldn’t bare toimagine anyone hurting him. You hadn’t told your father about your sidemission, but you believed he knew, your father was a wise man and could seeright through your lies.

Markus’s hand moved to your back andhe pulled you closer to him. He had always been this way – emotional that is.Other Androids described breaking through some sort of barrier and then havingan onslaught of errors and emotions flooding at them after. Your arms looselyhung around his neck and you leaned back in his arms, staring up at him. TheAndroid smirked at you and tilted his head down slightly. “I love you too muchto let anyone hurt you.” You said with a smile before kissing him. The two ofyou parted and you noticed how his eyes seemed to almost glow, not to mentionthe grin on his face now. “What?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Iwould do anything to keep you safe.” He replied, his version of ‘I love youtoo’.

DECEMBER 2037

The snowfall was heavy, and the sides of the roadswere growing higher and higher the more snow is pushed off of the road to theside. The temperature was only going to continue to drop. The underground wascolder than above ground. It was dark as you sat on the ground against the wallof the abandoned subway system. The subway closed down a long time ago whenself-driving cars and the new bullet trains were introduced above ground. Thisis where you and your rag-tag group of human-android friends hid.

You were shivering down here. It washard to stay down here at night with how cold it was becoming. There neverseemed to be enough blankets to go around. Even some of the Androids werefeeling the effects of the frigid air beginning to shock their systems. Youwere hiding from the police, a lot can happen in a single month. Drearily youlooked around and could see the dozens of multi-coloured LED’s glowing in thedarkness. The steady dripping sound of the water leaking from the ceiling wasslowly lulling you to sleep. The cold was the only thing stopping you fromfully resting your eyes.

It had been a long day of evadingpolice custody. Officers were on the streets prowling for you and anyone whomay be supporting you and your cause. Recently you had become the new talk ofthe city and the media absolutely ate you up. It was mostly because you wererebelling against the government and rescuing ‘defective’ Androids that were inneed of a safe place. The deviants came to you when they had nowhere to go andthe humans that were like you came to support the group as well. A blanket wassuddenly draped around your shoulders and a hand fell onto your shouldersqueezing it gently.

Markus sat down next to you andpulled you close to his side. He was dressed warm enough in some of Leo’s oldclothes you dug out of some boxes in the storage room. Androids were built likehumans in some ways, for example they needed to keep their core temperaturemoderately warm or they would begin to become sluggish and eventually theywould shut down. “You should make a fire.” He said quietly.

“No– no fire.” You said, teeth chattering.

He still had much to learn. Androidswere programmed to find answers for reasonable problems and sometimes did notthink further on the matter, expanded thought was not something they weredesigned to have. “W-we’re under the city. I-In a s-subway system that stillhas c-connections to the city above. P-Police can detect s-smoke and willc-come check.” You said, voice shaking and teeth chattering even more. Markuspulled you closer and nodded slowly. The LED spun yellow as he processed thenew information.

After awhile your eyes fell closedand you snuggled closer to Markus. It was later in the night when the air ofthe subway tunnel had become more frigid when your eyes opened. The hair on theback of your neck stood and goosebumps flared up over your body. In thedistance you heard the crackling of a walkie talkie, someone was coming.“Everyone we need to go now!” You said as loud as you could without breakingyour whispered tone. Just as people were starting to stand up you were allblinded by a flood of bright white lights. “Detroit Police freeze!” A manyelled hidden behind the sea of flashlights. “Run!”You screamed.

It was mayhem after that. The soundof gunshots popping off echoed down the tunnel as you all sprinted away. Thelights followed all of you down the tunnel, your group slowly thinning outbecause of the rapid fire the police rained down on everyone. There were twoladders on either side of the tunnel up ahead that led up to the street. It washow all of you got down here. “Up – go up!” You yelled. It was difficult toform the words you wanted to say with the shock running its course through yourbody. You were shaky and terrified out of your mind.

You reached one of the ladders andmoved to the side ushering your group up before you. “Markus!” You yelled, eyessearching in the dark for him. The lights were coming closer and closer to youand you still couldn’t see him. The last person went up the ladder and thelight from the street above fell onto you like a halo. Your hand moved to theladder and you looked around once again for him. Then you saw his figureemerging in the distance, he wasn’t walking right, and he practically fell intoyou when he reached you. “You’re hurt.” You said looking at the Thiriumspilling from the bullet holes in his body.

“Comeon we have to go.” You said tugging him up the ladder as you climbed.

His hand stopped you, he grabbedyour arm and held it firmly. You looked down at him and saw the absolutedespair in the eyes. The police were running after you, they were almost here.“Reset me.” He said. It dawned on you what he was asking you to do, you shookyour head. This was ludicrous, they would kill him either way even if he wasreset or not. “Markus they’ll kill you.” You said, tears coming to your eyes.

“Iwill slow you down and I know you won’t leave me and if you don’t reset me,they’ll pry every piece of information on you out of my head.”

Markus was right. Why did he have tobe right? Androids couldn’t reset themselves and the action would only pop upif a registered ‘owner’. You hated the thought of being his owner. The wordleft a sour taste in your mouth. Nevertheless, you forced the dreaded words outof your mouth. “RK200 #684 842 971 I order you to reset yourself.” You said thewords coming forced from your mouth. Cyberlife employees were really supposedto reset Androids to avoid any unwanted errors that may come with it. Deviantswere allowed to choose whether the action could be done or not which was whyresets tended to not work on deviants.

His LED spun red and you knew it washappening. You leaned down and kissed his forehead, eyes closing as you feltthe tears roll down your cheeks. After a moment you pulled back and quicklyclimbed up the ladder and out of the manhole without sparing him a second glance.

NOVEMBER 9, 2038

You awoke to a harsh knock on yourdoor. Your eyes flew open and you gasped loudly. The loud knock had awoken youfrom yet another nightmare. It was always the same one that repeated over andover inside of your head, usually before something big. The nightmares werealways of that night down in the old subway tunnels where you had to abandonMarkus. This time you dreamt of seeing him get shot by the police. You wereglad the knock on your door awoke you when it did.

Shuffling through the tiny apartmentyou opened the door and greeted one of your Android friends. Jaime wasresponsible for keeping tabs on the other group; Jericho. Whispers around thestreets said that they were marching today. You didn’t get out much anymore,not after the incident in the tunnel. Your face was plastered over everyprecinct wall in Detroit. People in your group like Jaime came and you wouldexchange information and they would go back and relay it to your group. It wastoo dangerous for your face to be shown in public…until now.

Jericho was once a small grouplocated in an old freighter by the water. It had significantly grown in numberssince then. Your information about the new leader was very little but you knewthat his name was Markus. You already told yourself that it wasn’t your Markus.The police most likely shot him as soon as they came upon him and then dumpedhis body with the rest in a junkyard. It was also logical that there were infact other Androids out there with the same name. After all, there weremillions of Androids spread across the United States and that name wasn’t onlyspecial to one specific Android as much as you wished it was.

Jaime followed you to the beat-upsofa in the middle of the room. You plopped down onto it while he stood infront of you looking down. This apartment building was condemned and had yet tobe demolished so you camped out here in secret. He sat down next to you andoffered you one of his awkward smiles. He’s an HR400 who escaped from the EdenClub, he joined your group a little while after what happened at the tunnels. “Theyare marching today. One of our informants inside got confirmation of this. Asyour advisor I would like to point out Jericho’s recent violent disturbances,public opinion is beginning to sway.” He informed.

Yousighed, “What you’re really saying is that we need to confront them.”

He nodded and you sunk further intothe couch. You had held off interacting with Jericho up until this point. Ifyou didn’t then the likelihood that Androids would survive this ‘revolution’was highly unlikely. Jericho was becoming destructive and it was damaging thepublic opinions severely. You knew this day would come, when you would have toconfront this group. The awful feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’thelping. You sighed again and dragged your hands down your face tiredly. “Whereare they planning to do this?” You asked.

“WoodwardAvenue.” Jaime answered.

It wasn’t too far from where youwere currently located. As a leader you had to make the tough decisions. Youstood up and grabbed your long black coat from the bedpost it was hanging onand slid it on. “What are we going to do?” Jaime asked following you to thedoor. You pulled the hood up and looked up at him, “We’re going to stop them,cut them off before they get too far.” You answered.

That was exactly what you and yourgroup did. You hid within the crowd of your group, your head down to keepyourself hidden. Jaime was next to you and had communicated your instructionsto the group. Some of your followers were helping the people on the sidewalksget away before the confrontation happened. You had no doubt in your mind thatthe police would show up soon. It was only a matter of time now. “He’s here.”Jaime said, loud enough for you to hear. You nodded and moved through the crowdquickly until you were at the front. You raised your head to finally get a goodlook at this so called ‘ruthless leader’.

Your world shattered around you whenyou saw his face. So many nights you spent believing he was dead, wiped fromthis world completely. There was no mistaking him and you knew that it wasimpossible that this was some other Android. Elijah Kamski made Markusspecifically for your father. There was no other Android like him and therenever would be because Kamski didn’t make Androids anymore. You met in themiddle; he had a female Android at his side. She was a WR400 from the EdenClub. The two of them seemed close. “We’re demonstrating peacefully, is that acrime?” He asked, hearing his voice was a nightmare in itself.

You pulled the hood down and staredat him wide eyed. “Markus.” You whispered his name for the first time in almosta year. He looked at you as if you were a threat. It was almost like speakingto a poor imitation of him. He looked like Markus but this…this wasn’t Markus.He seemed so cold and angry, something that he never was before. “Markus she’sa human.” The Android to his side said, the word ‘human’ rolling off her tonguein disgust. It was clear that she had a problem with humans. You drew in abreath, gaze hardening as you pushed the thoughts of Markus to the back of yourhead. You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. “Dueto the recent outbreaks of violence from Jericho I’ve deemed you unfit to leadyour group.” You said swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Ahuman leading our people Markus, it’s insane!” the redhead yelled.

He stared at you completely ignoringhis companion at his side. “I didn’t use to lead alone, I had someone else. AnAndroid that I cared for very much, he helped me take care of my father. Oneday we were caught by the police and well, I thought he was gone.” You said,gaze fixed on Markus. His LED was missing, he looked like a human. There seemedto be a spark in his eyes and just when he went to speak the SWAT team pulledup behind you. The tires squealed against the pavement and armored squadsrushed out of their trucks and lined up. You turned around and walked throughyour group whom moved out of the way to make a path for you. “This is an illegalgathering, disperse immediately!” An officer shouted from behind the line up.

The SWAT teams had their guns aimedat your group and Jericho. They took this as a threat. Your fears were comingto life. Markus had destroyed any sort of credibility you were trying to build.You raised your hands in the air surrendering and the rest of your group didthe same. “You don’t want to do this; we’re trying to save Detroit!” Youyelled. It was the truth. Jericho was going to start a civil war if you didn’tstop them – stop Markus. The officer continued to yell; his commands beingprojected through the crowd. Then you heard her voice, her voice loud and clearthroughout the rumbling of the two groups. She was talking to Markus,encouraging him to fight.

You turned your back to the SWATteam and just as you were about to yell to stop any sort of plans, he yelled,“Attack!” Jericho ran through your group, Markus and the Android to his sideleading them and clashed with the SWAT team. There was gunfire and yelling andyour group stared at you looking for answers. You had been a mystery to most ofthem until today. “Stop them!” You yelled. They nodded and jumped into thefight as well trying to separate Jericho from the SWAT team. Through the flurryof people, you frantically looked around for Markus. That Android has beenpersuading him and you knew it. “Markus!” You yelled moving through the fightswiftly.

You finally saw him, with her. She had a smile on her face as sheshot one of the men dawning a SWAT uniform. Markus looked at her the same waythat he used to look at you. It made your heart wrench at the thought. Anyprevious thoughts of how dangerous he was to the cause vanished when you sawone of the SWAT members aim their gun at his back. “Markus!” You yelled runningfor him and before you knew it you were tackling him to the pavement. The shotrang off in the air within an instant. You rolled off of him and fell back ontothe cool pavement feeling the cold air brush against your face.

Markus stood up, his shadow loomingover you. “Markus we can’t let them get away!” You heard her yell off to yourright. He didn’t budge, his gaze fixated on your figure. He looked haunted, likehe had seen something he wished he hadn’t. He fell to his knees and dragged youinto his lap. Your body was cold and hot at the same time, like you werebecoming numb from the bottom up. Your stomach was the hotspot where it burnedthe most. You felt his hand press against your stomach, and you yelled. Thesound of your pain caused him to pull his hand away quickly and that’s when younoticed the blood.

Howpoetic.

You two seemed to be doomed, notmeant to be. It was wickedly cruel to make your relationship as tragic as this.Just when you seemed to get to him again you were the one to be destroyed thistime. “M-Markus.” You whispered; his name barely audible against your lips.

“Whathave I done?” He whispered to himself.

There were tears in his eyes when helooked down at you. Markus was never one to cry. He was wise and strong and tosee him cry made your heart ache. He looked you up and down, his gaze seeminglyzoned out as he did. He was scanning you and assessing your wounds and yourprobability of living. Your hand fell on top of his and you squeezed it pullinghim from his informative daze. The SWAT team had retreated and whoever was leftalive was treating those who were injured. North was looming behind Markusglaring down at him with her arms crossed.

Your gaze flickered to his mouth andthe way his lips trembled as he tried to hold himself together. “I wish I was asdurable as an Android.” You whispered with a pained laugh. Markus shook hishead. This didn’t seem to be the first time he’s had to deal with such a loss. Thepain in your stomach was growing worse and your body only continued to growcold. The colder you got the more fatigued you became. You needed to rest youreyes if only for a moment. “We’re not all evil Markus, you used to love meafter all…once upon a time. Don’t you forget that.” You said, your words becomingslurred together.

The deviant leader was at a loss forwords. He didn’t even know how to talk to you. He was still trying to processthe fact that this was well – it was you! Markus just got his memories back ofyou and everything the two of you went through and he was losing you. Thispainful blow was worse than when he lost Carl. “Markus you can’t ju-” North wascut off by the deadly looking Markus gave her when she began to speak.

He wasn’t there for long. Soon hehad emerged from the crowd, face blank and tear stained as he carried your bodydown the street. Something inside of him broke. Deviancy was no longer all itwas cracked up to be. Emotions were complicated and painful, he wanted to benumb again. He knew one thing that he wanted…he wanted to never forget you.

Andhe never did.

#detroit become human #detroit: become human #DBH #dbh markus #dbh markus x reader #markus x reader #dbh rk200

190 notes · View notes

ralfmaximus · 5 years ago

Text

Snow White and the 1026 Dwarfs

Snow White woke up in the strangest little bed! She'd happened upon the small, cozy house deep in the woods, found nobody at home, and promptly crashed in the first bed she'd spotted. Sleep claimed her then, dragging her away to a place of relative peace and calm... carefully letting her ignore how tiny all the furnishings were, how oddly low were the ceilings and fixtures. And now, the next morning! What odd little men surrounded her! Normally she'd be alarmed by close proximity to so many strangers, but the events of the past day had granted her an oddly calm outlook on life. Nothing much rattled her anymore. Snow White blinked sleepily, yawned, and stretched. The men watched her every movement, transfixed. "Do you talk?" She asked experimentally. One older man -- tiny, rotund, and wiser than the rest with a long white beard -- glanced around at the others and nodded. He adjusted his spectacles and stepped forward. "I'm Doc," he explained with a jolly chuckle. "And these are my friends: Smarmy, Ragey, Explainy, Glossy, Pookie, Pesty, Grippy, Inebriated, Teary, Swampy, Piggy, Catty, Hitler, Stroky, Zombie, Mooky, Tandy, Fakey, Twinky, Biggie, Munchy, Stingy, Intrepid, Gabby, Shitsnacks, Packy, Growly, Sleazy, Pervy, Ookey, Maggy, Slither, Effy, Jelly, Freezy, Snuggy, Dippy, Toothy, Banger, Loathsome, Smelly, Loofa, Eerie, Jenny, Zoidberg, Fatty, Porkey, Cutty, Brazen, Krabby, Outlandish, Irony, Queasey, Juicy, Ugly, Wonky, Appealing, Lectory, Terminator, Off-putting, Shorty, Irregular, Hissy, Silky, Hardy, Whacker, Ginny, Pammy, Lovely, Chasey, Numby, Abba, Unmentionable, Phreaky, Gawkey, Spooly, Dairy, Flamy, Pickley, Jammy, Croaky, Diehardy, Sordid, Boasty, Rumbly, Klepto, Siggy, Serendipity, Touchy, Thrifty, Cassy, Noxy, Woggly, Gaggy, Beauty, Bluto, Easty, Larky, Sleepy, Hottie, Cloggy, Muffy, Busty, Flouncy, Oly, Wordy, Floopy, Bently, Winky, Rampy, Twitty, Rutty, Witchy, Boxey, Sexy, Sicky, Blazey, Googly, Chemistry, Humpy, Bloggy, Palsey, Tranny, Nipply, Creepy, Jumpy, Weekly, Dready, Burny, Stjnky, Potty, Poofey, Affable, Sippy, Yeachy, Volatile, Jacky, Pokey, Tumbly, Stinky, Hippie, Restless, Frosty, Slicey, Grabby, Bashful, Milky, Lenny, Slick, Losty, Dramatic, Subliminal, Peeny, Inserty, Botfly, Whipser, Edgy, Strutty, Gamey, Goaty, Slammy, Hickey, Murdery, Lickey, Quiet, Bastard, Sprainy, Griefy, Freeky, Snicky, Snobby, Destructive, Pagey, Hefty, Freepy, Dreamy, Tinny, Jaunty, Larpy, Yelpy, Pumpy, Techey, Wackey, Krappy, Porky, Banny, Lawdy, Spikey, Noxious, Robby, Forky, Woeful, Cringley, Roasty, Grumpy, Queefy, Slabby, Qwerty, Oaky, Rusty, Donner, Bitey, Ernie, Bratty, Reddy, Alky, Pearly, Tooky, Clingy, Rapey, Contagious, Wheezy, Toasty, Nosy, Hungry, Cupid, Woofy, Wicked, Kitty, Slappy, Silly, Oogly, Quagmire, Chumpy, Spocky, Secretive, Yukku, Checky, Goofy, Porney, Seepy, Angry, Junkie, Dumpy, Cagey, Handy, Ghastly, Bunny, Narky, Crummy, Tipsey, Wizzy, Peachy, Splashy, Frighty, Towley, Rangey, Twitchy, Birdy, Blotty, Wheely, Tweety, Mealy, Tazey, Boozy, Mopey, Icky, Hacky, Mental, Pasty, Guffy, Yelly, Picky, Lucy, Bloody, Doomy, Balky, Sharky, Moby, Tastey, Clunky, Happy, Nancy, Fry, Puke, Zany, Sweaty, Pimply, Poppy, Testy, Classy, Scratchy, Righty, Smegma, Pissy, Schmutzy, Proxy, Preachy, Prey, Baddy, Westy, Clumsey, Jumbo, Pawy, Jaundiced, Masturbatey, Spasms, Wiley, Pukey, Havok, Puffy, Startled, Prissy, Snoopy, Ruffian, Iggy, Acid-Refluxy, Nifty, Dressy, Gomer, Flabby, Deadly, Smalls, Neurotic, Hideous, Shecky, Blondy, Skunky, Yummy, Victor, Jewy, Arny, Neuty, Biff, Toady, Humpty, Moogly, Grassy, Corny, Feisty, Angsty, Creamy, Techy, Lopsey, Queeny, Stretchy, Mo, Spanks, Regretful, Snarfly, Underpants, Ready, Lanky, Splenda, Naggy, Faily, Yakky, Sizzly, Jokey, Pacey, Spooey, Traumatic, Screamy, Tucker, Pimpy, Beady, Roughy, Snoozy, Roofy, Quimbly, Brewy, Gumby, Pointy, Hooky, Writey, Shimmy, Bulgy, Nootsy, Bingey, Mooby, Dunky, Sully, Neurtsy, Woey, Jiggy, Prietsly, Terry, Forgetful, Comfy, Romney, Campy, Northy, Giggidy, Dipsy, Beefy, Poledancey, Apocalypse, Woozy, Evil, Talky, Vapid, Freaky, Whackey, Inserto, Bleaty, Chufty, Scuzzy, Crispy, Tepid, Snazzy, Sqealy, Grotty, Jimmy, Nanny, Godlike, Furious, Booty, Wolfy, Cumpy, Toily, Crumbly, Biggo, Boggly, Ironic, Belchy, Flaily, Killy, Puggy, Wendy, Gloomy, Verbosity, Listless, Twisty, Waffles, Archy, Wheatley, Iconic, Klassy, Pauley, Bruiser, Prefunctory, Ruffy, Poopy, Zuckerman, Snappy, Oily, Shakes, Yiles, Priggy, Airy, Godly, Hotty, Lassy, Fudgy, Wooky, Bursty, Leggy, Soggy, Soulful, Walky, Unkillable, Bindlestiff, Pathy, Soothy, Lolzy, Spiffy, Trekky, Toothsome, Goldy, Daffy, Yucky, Pappy, Snowy, Dancy, Sappy, Lana, Cursey, Drippy, Cackles, Fuzzy, Malignant, Ghosty, Quality, Hurty, Schulty, Fizzy, Toughy, Tweaky, Starry, Jigsaw, Piney, Magnanimous, Softy, Denty, Damned, Intolerable, Dodgey, Spazzy, Ropey, Socky, Moomoo, Sammy, Dampy, Cracky, Zippy, Whorey, Likey, Wooy, Spewy, Farty, Perthy, Kinky, Peely, Wetone, Squeaky, Frenzy, Noisy, Danny, Flippy, Fartsy, Gravy, Barfy, Loopy, Regular, Nedly, Quacky, Sloppy, Snooki, Crampy, Wetty, Appealy, Boofy, Snotty, Kwazy, Nutty, Regal, Zappy, Candy, Scary, Shakey, Yeasty, Trampy, Runty, Turgid, Icey, Dusty, Adolph, Pocky, Shitty, Nasty, Cranny, Mommy, Monkey, Prickley, Lumpy, Snippy, Quaffy, Wendigo, Opulent, Henny, Prancer, Pervo, Pippy, Rotund, Cavey, Dazzle, Clooney, Rumpy, Pudgy, Spunky, Ralfy, Questy, Dwarfy, Limpy, Rugby, Junky, Insideous, Assy, Hizzy, Hotsy, Honey, Punky, Blingy, Spinny, Nicky, Spindly, Lacey, Banshee, Feely, Baldy, Rabbity, Lunky, Swarley, Damply, Whiley, Splattery, Squirty, Alcoholic, Foggy, Denny, Berty, Zinny, Mammy, Delicious, Dropsey, Vixen, Beary, Beatlejuice, Knobby, Loudly, Meaty, Teethy, Drinky, Woz, Wanky, Scuffy, Swimmy, Gummy, Posse, Milly, Wallop, Pouty, Ruby, Chicken, Poofy, Funny, Smugly, Spinry, Grimey, Ripley, Savory, Schmuckey, Stainy, Quivery, Pooly, Droopy, Lappy, Herpy, Able, Goosey, Dapper, Beasty, Dazy, Giggy, Drowsy, Lowly, Coolie, Slutty, Burby, Nippy, Firey, Sniffy, Glassy, Factory, Cheney, Slidey, Chippy, Kludgy, Orly, Meany, Kreepy, Pooley, Ninja, Whizzy, Victim, Iffy, Saggy, Kenny, Floppy, Nabby, Sickley, Groggy, Liquidity, Hussy, Jinxy, Kewpie, Lampy, Saxy, Dexter, Doleful, Dandy, Peggy, Mooey, Slashy, Drunkey, Homo, Rolly, Hoggly, Healy, Salty, Gropey, Ghouley, Whirley, Faggy, Weedy, Teaser, Dasher, Ego, Artsy, Quippy, Insanity, Beastly, Chappy, Sparky, Zesty, Tasty, Bumpy, Tappy, Uggy, Herky, Greasy, Weakly, Grungy, Jeery, Menthol, Ouchy, Trollface, Morty, Pandy, Scooby, Miley, Racky, Upchuck, Stumpy, Spongy, Slurpy, Kiley, Tummy, Incindiary, Tokey, Flighty, Pussy, Porker, Pranky, Itchy, Spongey, Fuckey, Stuffy, Quiver, Dreary, Ravey, Dirtzy, Tanky, Crabby, Besty, Dregs, Killzy, Wackry, Daisy, Killer, Chevy, Tacky, Stimpy, Tiny, Buffy, Piggie, Crufty, Stabby, Oozey, Unlucky, Beatnik, Twitly, Kingly, Aery, Ogly, Gimpy, Shanky, Trippy, Fingery, Trumpy, Quackey, Cringey, Hokey, Emergency, Flowery, Tinky, Wifey, Crowley, Gassy, Gingery, Bobby, Tender, Penny, Nutso, Mighty, Crazy, Klinky, Blitzen, Clappy, Slitty, Leaky, Queasy, Wallaby, Buddy, Bootlicker, Peeky, Sadistic, Lovey, Glowy, Pickles, Gingerly, Misty, Lofty, Mickey, Wrappy, Ridiculous, Perky, Tangly, Sprockets, Lackey, Awful, Crassy, Runny, Nasal, Frigid, Doggy, Leafy, Planty, Stealthy, Soapy, Draggy, Queery, Texty, Undie, Davey, Fucky, Futurey, Lefty, Sickly, Diseased, Cranky, Nukey, Gangly, Totty, Dummy, Flakey, Lizzy, Tighty, Froggy, Gunny, Doily, Blotto, Seizey, Lazy, Venty, Blacky, Sandy, Immotral, Spangly, Clowny, Falsey, Loosey, Hanky, Wavy, Shifty, Annoying, Navy, Broody, Cunty, Impressy, Tuffy, Anonymous, Dickey, Pugly, Trolly, Kissy, Reflexy, Prawny, Obnoxious, Duffy, Kingy, Clicky, Nosey, Weepy, Phony, Frenny, Blinky, Neutral, Icony, Southy, Jetty, Teeny, Brutus, Wiffy, Smuggy, Busy, Plucky, Fisty, Spotty, Smokey, Chokey, Lippy, Tammy, Baggy, Powerless, Whitey, Typo, Mimsey, Tiki, Slurpee, Tearful, Flamey, Boozey, Moochy, Jewlery, Wobbly, Bossy, Randy, Curmudgeon, Grampy, Treacherous, Tonedeaf, Handsy, Speedy, Lulzy, Marty, Smacky, Rooky, Frightened, Piggly, Artful, Plowy, Bitchy, Barky, Preppy, Sunny, Rocky, Whappy, Hiney, Spanky, Whammy, Deafy, Mathy, Brainy, Fishy, Barfly, Swifty, Clueless, Dizzy, Lordy, Swindly, Pony, Snooty, Twix, Banksy, Wisty, Squirmy, Brewery, Scrappy, Slippy, Trollop, Ballsy, Willy, Rappy, Sneezy, Addy, Icy, Earny, Fidgety, Schooly, Klangy, Wistful, Metal, Lucky, Obsessive, Henzy, Huggy, Sassy, Agey, Pinky, Horny, Benny, Passy, Tingly, Rippy, Reagal, Freebie, Tossy, Slippery, Touchey, Kermy, Wiggly, Druggy, Hippy, Sweety, Dougie, Crappy, Peaty, Nazi, Faulty, Swirley, Crunchy, Bully, Flambe, Biddy, Hoppy, Bangy, Punny, Unsavory, Derpy, Jizzy, Ratty, Unlikable, Gently, Droppy, Ren, Smithy, Knotty, Deady, Chicky, Jerky, Flatulent, Billy, Pithy, Humphrey, Hansel, Poopie, Snuggly, Loki, Dopey, Yippy, Ridonkulous, Cody, Blatty, Renny, Parky, Prancy, Banananery, Yukky, Cheaty, Lossy, Scruffy, Silty, and Drifty." Snow White laughed and clapped her hands with delight. "My, there certainly are a lot of you! I'm ever so sorry for barging in here uninvited, but I don't really have a home any more... would you mind terribly if I stayed for awhile? I can cook and clean and--" Doc raised a hand, interrupting her gently. "We'd be honored if you stayed!" All 1026 dwarfs nodded in agreement, and were so thrilled they threw Snow White a party to celebrate their new friendship. The party lasted late into the evening, and everyone passed out with full tummies and a happy smile lighting their faces. The next day the dwarfs arose early and prepared for work. Snow White cooked them breakfast and when it was time to leave they all lined up at the door to bid her farewell for the day. Snow White expressed her gratitude by kissing each dwarf on the forehead: Smarmy, Ragey, Explainy, Glossy, Pookie, Pesty, Grippy, Inebriated, Teary, Swampy, Piggy, Catty, Hitler, Stroky, Zombie, Mooky, Tandy, Fakey, Twinky, Biggie, Munchy, Stingy, Intrepid, Gabby, Shitsnacks, Packy, Growly, Sleazy, Pervy, Ookey, Maggy, Slither, Effy, Jelly, Freezy, Snuggy, Dippy, Toothy, Banger, Loathsome, Smelly, Loofa, Eerie, Jenny, Zoidberg, Fatty, Porkey, Cutty, Brazen, Krabby, Outlandish, Irony, Queasey, Juicy, Ugly, Wonky, Appealing, Lectory, Terminator, Off-putting, Shorty, Irregular, Hissy, Silky, Hardy, Whacker, Ginny, Pammy, Lovely, Chasey, Numby, Abba, Unmentionable, Phreaky, Gawkey, Spooly, Dairy, Flamy, Pickley, Jammy, Croaky, Diehardy, Sordid, Boasty, Rumbly, Klepto, Siggy, Serendipity, Touchy, Thrifty, Cassy, Noxy, Woggly, Gaggy, Beauty, Bluto, Easty, Larky, Sleepy, Hottie, Cloggy, Muffy, Busty, Flouncy, Oly, Wordy, Floopy, Bently, Winky, Rampy, Twitty, Rutty, Witchy, Boxey, Sexy, Sicky, Blazey, Googly, Chemistry, Humpy, Bloggy, Palsey, Tranny, Nipply, Creepy, Jumpy, Weekly, Dready, Burny, Stjnky, Potty, Poofey, Affable, Sippy, Yeachy, Volatile, Jacky, Pokey, Tumbly, Stinky, Hippie, Restless, Frosty, Slicey, Grabby, Bashful, Milky, Lenny, Slick, Losty, Dramatic, Subliminal, Peeny, Inserty, Botfly, Whipser, Edgy, Strutty, Gamey, Goaty, Slammy, Hickey, Murdery, Lickey, Quiet, Bastard, Sprainy, Griefy, Freeky, Snicky, Snobby, Destructive, Pagey, Hefty, Freepy, Dreamy, Tinny, Jaunty, Larpy, Yelpy, Pumpy, Techey, Wackey, Krappy, Porky, Banny, Lawdy, Spikey, Noxious, Robby, Forky, Woeful, Cringley, Roasty, Grumpy, Queefy, Slabby, Qwerty, Oaky, Rusty, Donner, Bitey, Ernie, Bratty, Reddy, Alky, Pearly, Tooky, Clingy, Rapey, Contagious, Wheezy, Toasty, Nosy, Hungry, Cupid, Woofy, Wicked, Kitty, Slappy, Silly, Oogly, Quagmire, Chumpy, Spocky, Secretive, Yukku, Checky, Goofy, Porney, Seepy, Angry, Junkie, Dumpy, Cagey, Handy, Ghastly, Bunny, Narky, Crummy, Tipsey, Wizzy, Peachy, Splashy, Frighty, Towley, Rangey, Twitchy, Birdy, Blotty, Wheely, Tweety, Mealy, Tazey, Boozy, Mopey, Icky, Hacky, Mental, Pasty, Guffy, Yelly, Picky, Lucy, Bloody, Doomy, Balky, Sharky, Moby, Tastey, Clunky, Happy, Nancy, Fry, Puke, Zany, Sweaty, Pimply, Poppy, Testy, Classy, Scratchy, Righty, Smegma, Pissy, Schmutzy, Proxy, Preachy, Prey, Baddy, Westy, Clumsey, Jumbo, Pawy, Jaundiced, Masturbatey, Spasms, Wiley, Pukey, Havok, Puffy, Startled, Prissy, Snoopy, Ruffian, Iggy, Acid-Refluxy, Nifty, Dressy, Gomer, Flabby, Deadly, Smalls, Neurotic, Hideous, Shecky, Blondy, Skunky, Yummy, Victor, Jewy, Arny, Neuty, Biff, Toady, Humpty, Moogly, Grassy, Corny, Feisty, Angsty, Creamy, Techy, Lopsey, Queeny, Stretchy, Mo, Spanks, Regretful, Snarfly, Underpants, Ready, Lanky, Splenda, Naggy, Faily, Yakky, Sizzly, Jokey, Pacey, Spooey, Traumatic, Screamy, Tucker, Pimpy, Beady, Roughy, Snoozy, Roofy, Quimbly, Brewy, Gumby, Pointy, Hooky, Writey, Shimmy, Bulgy, Nootsy, Bingey, Mooby, Dunky, Sully, Neurtsy, Woey, Jiggy, Prietsly, Terry, Forgetful, Comfy, Romney, Campy, Northy, Giggidy, Dipsy, Beefy, Poledancey, Apocalypse, Woozy, Evil, Talky, Vapid, Freaky, Whackey, Inserto, Bleaty, Chufty, Scuzzy, Crispy, Tepid, Snazzy, Sqealy, Grotty, Jimmy, Nanny, Godlike, Furious, Booty, Wolfy, Cumpy, Toily, Crumbly, Biggo, Boggly, Ironic, Belchy, Flaily, Killy, Puggy, Wendy, Gloomy, Verbosity, Listless, Twisty, Waffles, Archy, Wheatley, Iconic, Klassy, Pauley, Bruiser, Prefunctory, Ruffy, Poopy, Zuckerman, Snappy, Oily, Shakes, Yiles, Priggy, Airy, Godly, Hotty, Lassy, Fudgy, Wooky, Bursty, Leggy, Soggy, Soulful, Walky, Unkillable, Bindlestiff, Pathy, Soothy, Lolzy, Spiffy, Trekky, Toothsome, Goldy, Daffy, Yucky, Pappy, Snowy, Dancy, Sappy, Lana, Cursey, Drippy, Cackles, Fuzzy, Malignant, Ghosty, Quality, Hurty, Schulty, Fizzy, Toughy, Tweaky, Starry, Jigsaw, Piney, Magnanimous, Softy, Denty, Damned, Intolerable, Dodgey, Spazzy, Ropey, Socky, Moomoo, Sammy, Dampy, Cracky, Zippy, Whorey, Likey, Wooy, Spewy, Farty, Perthy, Kinky, Peely, Wetone, Squeaky, Frenzy, Noisy, Danny, Flippy, Fartsy, Gravy, Barfy, Loopy, Regular, Nedly, Quacky, Sloppy, Snooki, Crampy, Wetty, Appealy, Boofy, Snotty, Kwazy, Nutty, Regal, Zappy, Candy, Scary, Shakey, Yeasty, Trampy, Runty, Turgid, Icey, Dusty, Adolph, Pocky, Shitty, Nasty, Cranny, Mommy, Monkey, Prickley, Lumpy, Snippy, Quaffy, Wendigo, Opulent, Henny, Prancer, Pervo, Pippy, Rotund, Cavey, Dazzle, Clooney, Rumpy, Pudgy, Spunky, Ralfy, Questy, Dwarfy, Limpy, Rugby, Junky, Insideous, Assy, Hizzy, Hotsy, Honey, Punky, Blingy, Spinny, Nicky, Spindly, Lacey, Banshee, Feely, Baldy, Rabbity, Lunky, Swarley, Damply, Whiley, Splattery, Squirty, Alcoholic, Foggy, Denny, Berty, Zinny, Mammy, Delicious, Dropsey, Vixen, Beary, Beatlejuice, Knobby, Loudly, Meaty, Teethy, Drinky, Woz, Wanky, Scuffy, Swimmy, Gummy, Posse, Milly, Wallop, Pouty, Ruby, Chicken, Poofy, Funny, Smugly, Spinry, Grimey, Ripley, Savory, Schmuckey, Stainy, Quivery, Pooly, Droopy, Lappy, Herpy, Able, Goosey, Dapper, Beasty, Dazy, Giggy, Drowsy, Lowly, Coolie, Slutty, Burby, Nippy, Firey, Sniffy, Glassy, Factory, Cheney, Slidey, Chippy, Kludgy, Orly, Meany, Kreepy, Pooley, Ninja, Whizzy, Victim, Iffy, Saggy, Kenny, Floppy, Nabby, Sickley, Groggy, Liquidity, Hussy, Jinxy, Kewpie, Lampy, Saxy, Dexter, Doleful, Dandy, Peggy, Mooey, Slashy, Drunkey, Homo, Rolly, Hoggly, Healy, Salty, Gropey, Ghouley, Whirley, Faggy, Weedy, Teaser, Dasher, Ego, Artsy, Quippy, Insanity, Beastly, Chappy, Sparky, Zesty, Tasty, Bumpy, Tappy, Uggy, Herky, Greasy, Weakly, Grungy, Jeery, Menthol, Ouchy, Trollface, Morty, Pandy, Scooby, Miley, Racky, Upchuck, Stumpy, Spongy, Slurpy, Kiley, Tummy, Incindiary, Tokey, Flighty, Pussy, Porker, Pranky, Itchy, Spongey, Fuckey, Stuffy, Quiver, Dreary, Ravey, Dirtzy, Tanky, Crabby, Besty, Dregs, Killzy, Wackry, Daisy, Killer, Chevy, Tacky, Stimpy, Tiny, Buffy, Piggie, Crufty, Stabby, Oozey, Unlucky, Beatnik, Twitly, Kingly, Aery, Ogly, Gimpy, Shanky, Trippy, Fingery, Trumpy, Quackey, Cringey, Hokey, Emergency, Flowery, Tinky, Wifey, Crowley, Gassy, Gingery, Bobby, Tender, Penny, Nutso, Mighty, Crazy, Klinky, Blitzen, Clappy, Slitty, Leaky, Queasy, Wallaby, Buddy, Bootlicker, Peeky, Sadistic, Lovey, Glowy, Pickles, Gingerly, Misty, Lofty, Mickey, Wrappy, Ridiculous, Perky, Tangly, Sprockets, Lackey, Awful, Crassy, Runny, Nasal, Frigid, Doggy, Leafy, Planty, Stealthy, Soapy, Draggy, Queery, Texty, Undie, Davey, Fucky, Futurey, Lefty, Sickly, Diseased, Cranky, Nukey, Gangly, Totty, Dummy, Flakey, Lizzy, Tighty, Froggy, Gunny, Doily, Blotto, Seizey, Lazy, Venty, Blacky, Sandy, Immotral, Spangly, Clowny, Falsey, Loosey, Hanky, Wavy, Shifty, Annoying, Navy, Broody, Cunty, Impressy, Tuffy, Anonymous, Dickey, Pugly, Trolly, Kissy, Reflexy, Prawny, Obnoxious, Duffy, Kingy, Clicky, Nosey, Weepy, Phony, Frenny, Blinky, Neutral, Icony, Southy, Jetty, Teeny, Brutus, Wiffy, Smuggy, Busy, Plucky, Fisty, Spotty, Smokey, Chokey, Lippy, Tammy, Baggy, Powerless, Whitey, Typo, Mimsey, Tiki, Slurpee, Tearful, Flamey, Boozey, Moochy, Jewlery, Wobbly, Bossy, Randy, Curmudgeon, Grampy, Treacherous, Tonedeaf, Handsy, Speedy, Lulzy, Marty, Smacky, Rooky, Frightened, Piggly, Artful, Plowy, Bitchy, Barky, Preppy, Sunny, Rocky, Whappy, Hiney, Spanky, Whammy, Deafy, Mathy, Brainy, Fishy, Barfly, Swifty, Clueless, Dizzy, Lordy, Swindly, Pony, Snooty, Twix, Banksy, Wisty, Squirmy, Brewery, Scrappy, Slippy, Trollop, Ballsy, Willy, Rappy, Sneezy, Addy, Icy, Earny, Fidgety, Schooly, Klangy, Wistful, Metal, Lucky, Obsessive, Henzy, Huggy, Sassy, Agey, Pinky, Horny, Benny, Passy, Tingly, Rippy, Reagal, Freebie, Tossy, Slippery, Touchey, Kermy, Wiggly, Druggy, Hippy, Sweety, Dougie, Crappy, Peaty, Nazi, Faulty, Swirley, Crunchy, Bully, Flambe, Biddy, Hoppy, Bangy, Punny, Unsavory, Derpy, Jizzy, Ratty, Unlikable, Gently, Droppy, Ren, Smithy, Knotty, Deady, Chicky, Jerky, Flatulent, Billy, Pithy, Humphrey, Hansel, Poopie, Snuggly, Loki, Dopey, Yippy, Ridonkulous, Cody, Blatty, Renny, Parky, Prancy, Banananery, Yukky, Cheaty, Lossy, Scruffy, Silty, and Drifty each trooped past Snow White and received a farewell kiss and by the time she reached the end of the line her lips fell off.

18 notes · View notes

cruentu-s · 2 years ago

Note

"Red-- you scoundrel! Don't you dare take another step."

The words slip from pale lips with authority-- a careful mixture of firmness and faux-accusation to grab the ever-wandering mind of the trainer who stands but a few strides away. So the sightings were correct-- he really was back. Relief is the first feeling to wash over the heroine's bleeding heart, the next, a budding sense of affectionate frustration which spills into the smile sitting upon her features.

"It has been months. Why haven't you tried to call? I thought you were..."

Dead. Enduring one of the most painful and prolonged deaths possible atop the peak of that mountain. It is a statement that does not need to be finished; one that punctuates itself instead with the offering of a gift. A decently-sized box, wrapped and held together with a deceptively intricate bow-- its contents nothing short of a few pairs of socks, a thermos, and a small crocheted blanket clearly meant for a certain electric-type companion. Necessities, for one who so often forgets to take care of himself.

"--...Anyway. This is for you. Happy birthday."

「 ❄ Saying that his loved one's should always anticipate anywhere from half a year to a year of radio silence from Red without much warning didn't exactly make it better, but it did make it part of the package. An inevitability from a flighty boy, who's spent the better part of the last half a year enjoying summer sunshine and hiking until the soles of his shoes rotted off. Still, inevitable or not, he still feels very guilty.

He's barely stepped foot into the real world, desperately looking for batteries for his walkie talkie when Serena tracks him down. Which. Of course she would. A best friend with a sixth sense for a missed birthday.

"Serena--"

A very pretty box is shoved in his hands, and he tugs it close to his chest, Pikachu peering from over his shoulder to sniff at the ribbon and nibble on it while Red squirms with the heavy wrongdoing.

"... 'm sorry. I got caught up. Summer gets away from me so fast. Promise I'm okay." A soft smile is offered, bumping their shoulders together as if testing the waters. "Literally on my way to get batteries so I could call you right now. Check my backpack. Dead walkie-talkie."

#iruludavare #[ WE'RE BACK BAYBEE! ]

1 note · View note

dweemeister · 6 years ago

Photo

The Blue Angel (1930, Germany)

With the silent era at its conclusion and the rise of Nazism upcoming, German cinema’s brief early sound era shows the visual mastery of what might have been. The Blue Angel is Germany’s first feature-length synchronized sound film and is helmed by Austrian-American Josef von Sternberg in his only German-language production. Von Sternberg had directed a handful of films for Paramount prior to The Blue Angel, including The Docks of New York (1928) and The Last Command (1928). Thematically, The Blue Angel – produced by Universum Film AG (UFA) and distributed in the United States by Paramount – is a departure from von Sternberg’s previous films, while also adopting the aesthetic influences of German expressionism. In these precious few years following the heights of German silent film glory, the audience is treated to a talkie that always feels like a silent film. That incongruity never distracts, and only serves to demonstrate how remarkable The Blue Angel is in an experimental period of filmmaking – a period where few filmmakers could balance the needs of image and sound.

In Weimar Germany, disciplinarian professor Immanuel Rath (Emil Jannings) is the target of pranks and barbed words from his students at an all-male college prep school. One day, he is particularly annoyed by the boys passing around photographs of cabaret performer Lola Lola (Marlene Dietrich). Lola performs at a local nightclub called The Blue Angel, and Rath visits in hopes to catch his students there. His students are present, but Rath is overcome by lust after watching Lola perform. Returning the next night with a pair of her panties (that one of his students smuggled into his pocket), he spends the night with her. Rumors spread like the flu, Rath is dismissed from his professorship, and allows himself to be humiliated for what he thinks is love. His downfall is sealed.

The Blue Angel is a tragedy, but has more to do with Greek drama than Shakespeare – the former emphasizes the inescapability of divine fate and the role of human hubris in believing predestination can be overcome; the latter is dictated on the free will of an individual and how their character flaws result in their demise (the flaw need not be hubris, but it is often invoked by Shakespeare). According to von Sternberg, The Blue Angel is making no attempts at political allegory, so his intentions are purely personal. As Rath, Jannings plays his character as a rebuke to the besotted silent film romances seen across Western cinema. Unlike Heinrich Mann’s novel on which this film is based on, The Blue Angel never allows Rath to change himself over the course of his relationship with Lola. Maybe the audience should have sensed this earlier: his personality, his sense of order in the classroom was of strict control. Believing in his intelligence and ability to control his emotions and the situation, he stumbles upon Lola, holding her up to an image of perfection, and believing in that image steadfastly until he finally sees otherwise.

As the film’s seductress, Lola is a charismatic fantasy that men desire (permit some heteronormative language in respect to what the film depicts). But what people desire and what they need are distinct – something that neither Rath nor Lola ever understand. In her introductory scene, Lola is performing onstage, essentially opening herself to the unprocessed feelings of lustful men (young and old). She purrs, “... I have a pianola / that is my joy and pride. / They call me naughty Lola; / the men all go for me. / But I don’t let any man / lay a paw on my keys.”

What does Lola see in Rath that makes her want to be with him? They marry and it is implied that they become intimate. Her side of the relationship alternates between fits of passion and vitriol; intimacy and unfaithfulness; attention and apathy. Amid a society where cabaret performers like Lola could be seen as flighty and licentious, in Rath Lola sees someone who thinks otherwise. But instead of attempting to understand Lola’s anxieties and weaknesses – the viewer senses that, beneath her erotic public performances, there is more to this character that is never depicted – Rath views her as a romantic nonpareil. His ability for critical thought disappears when it comes to this sort of relationship he might never have experienced; his ability for self-reflection tainted by an unbending, stern, studious approach to his students. For her, Rath presents an opportunity to be accepted as something magnificent, something pure that which she nor anyone ever will be.

The film’s sensitivities are with Rath, not Lola. Even in Rath’s most despicable moment, von Sternberg and fellow co-screenwriters Carl Zuckmeyer, Karl Vollmöller, Robert Liebmann ensure that The Blue Angel remains within the tradition of Greek tragedy (with a twist). Where in the original novel Rath embarks upon exacting revenge against the authoritarian society that has shaped his interactions with students, there is no such redemption here. Rath is punished for his dangerous lustfulness – as he should be. Curiously, the predatory Lola – despite becoming a victim of attempted violence in the final minutes – escapes punishment of any type. In Rath’s tragedy, she has discarded what she no longer wants and has gained something/someone she presently desires. No remorse is present, nor does there appear to be any emotional trauma from ending her relationship with Rath. Perhaps the audience should have expected this, given the lyrics to the memorable “Falling in Love Again”, sung by Dietrich twice with music by Friedrich Hollaender and lyrics by Robert Liebmann (these lyrics are from the English-language version of this song; Hollaender adjusted the songs to accommodate Dietrich’s limited, but effective, vocal range):

Love's always been my game, Play it how I may, I was made that way, Can't help it.

If The Blue Angel had been produced primarily in the United States later in the 1930s, this ending could not have been upheld by the censors. Love (or romance or whatever you wish to call it), to Lola, is a fun game to play. And playing by her rules, she has always won. Where Rath experiences a tragedy befitting a German expressionist protagonist, Lola’s inconclusive fate feels contemporary regardless of the film’s Weimar morals.

The film collapses without the performances from its two central stars. Before release, Jannings was the lead if one looked at the billing. He had just won the inaugural Academy Award for Best Actor in von Sternberg’s The Last Command and 1927′s The Way of All Flesh (actors were listed for multiple movies at the first Oscars) – this film was to be his nominal pinnacle. Jannings excelled in playing tortured, disgraced characters and could do no greater here with his physical acting. His performance would be just as spellbinding if The Blue Angel was a silent film. However, Jannings is upstaged by Dietrich the moment she appears on-screen. Dietrich, playing an intemperate woman, became an instant sensation to European and American audiences in this, her twentieth film (and first talkie). But her success in The Blue Angel also served to typecast Dietrich into roles unscrupulous and indiscreetly erotic – pursuing sexual satisfaction at the expense of others’ needs. Von Sternberg doted on Dietrich during production, sparking the ire of Jannings (who entered production hoping to become next Hollywood star, but instead saw his career plummet afterwards due to his heavy German accent and subsequent work Nazi propaganda films) and von Sternberg’s wife (who filed for divorce after the film’s release). Her sensuality defined this film, whether or not the cameras rolled.

Manning the cameras was veteran cinematographer Günther Rittau (Die Nibelungen saga, 1927′s Metropolis). Rittau captures the smoky interior of The Blue Angel nightclub and the seedy nighttime of this unnamed German town to convey a sense of enclosure. Art director Otto Hunte (Die Nibelungen saga, Metropolis) employs distorted geometries – early shots of angled rooftops and jagged roads primes the imagination for the unconventional story to come – and exaggerated shapes and lighting to assist Rittau in achieving the film’s wondrous atmosphere.

This film, like many in the early years of synchronized sound, was shot in two different languages – German and English (yes, the actors had to shoot every seen and recite their lines twice). The above has been written based on the 107-minute uncut German-language version distributed by Kino International, licensed by the Murnau Foundation, and aired on Turner Classic Movies (TCM). Consensus says that the German-language version is superior to the English edition.

Predictable though it might be, The Blue Angel is a forceful statement of German filmmaking – it is a film honoring the expressionist past while showcasing its future (a future where many of its innovators would flee the Nazis and work in Hollywood). It would also be one of UFA’s final classics – the studio also released Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), F.W. Murnau’s The Last Laugh (1924), and Fritz Lang’s visionary Metropolis. Von Sternberg’s film, reflecting the drama behind the cameras, is a romantic tragedy that sings of love even when its characters know little about it. The Blue Angel is a triumph that quickly became written into German cinematic history. Its rapid ascent into that history can be attributed to the political changes soon to uproot all that German filmmakers had nourished. This film could not have been made any better in any other time.

My rating: 9.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

#The Blue Angel #Josef von Sternberg #Emil Jannings #Marlene Dietrich #Kurt Gerron #Rosa Valetti #Hans Albers #Reinhold Bernt #Eduard von Winterstein #Gunther Rittau #Otto Hunte #Friedrich Hollaender #Robert Liebmann #Carl Zuckmayer #Karl Volllmoller #TCM #My Movie Odyssey

3 notes · View notes