#his gravestone has a star of david

[doyouknowthisjewishcharacter]

Do you know this Jewish character?

[making-mormonism]

I think I get where you’re coming from, but I also think this is a misreading of the situation, especially as it exists today.

To start with statues and the like, Mormons are actually rather aniconic. While artistic depictions of religious scenes are certainly not banned (and indeed films and paintings have always been important instructional tools in the Church in lieu of anything like an official catechism), not only do images and objects play virtually no role in Mormon worship, but Mormons even avoid devotional items like crosses and prayer beads, which even many Protestants would feel goes a bit too far. Church meetinghouses are almost all, in a word, austere: sure there are various paintings scattered around the hallways and offices (the works of John Scott, Harry Anderson, and Del Parson are especially popular), but the walls are all whitewashed and the wood panelling plain, and the chapels themselves are required to be devoid of almost any decoration whatsoever, save maybe an American flag in the corner.

Only in temples does art play an actually important role in ritual, and even then, the murals painted onto the walls of ordinance rooms and the films shown in them are far more atmospheric, symbolic, and instructional than anything particularly akin to the iconodulia of Catholic and Orthodox traditions. Same with the bull statues that hold up the Brazen Sea fonts (where Mormons perform baptisms by proxy for the dead), and the sun-, moon-, and starstones that decorate temple doors and pilasters. The only other statue that plays a key role in the Church is the Angel Moroni blowing his trumpet, which in lieu of the cross has long been the main symbol of the Church on steeples and gravestones, but even then I think conceptualizing the Angel Moroni as an icon is misunderstanding its role. (I guess there’s also beehives? Choose the Right rings? Nothing particularly iconophilic though, I don’t think, at least no more so than Stars of David or WWJD bracelets are. Though I will come back to this.)

The Christus statue was only adopted in the early 1960s, at a time when the Church was desperately attempting to leave behind its associations with weirdness and paganism and join the American Protestant milieu of the Fourth Great Awakening, and was chosen specifically and explicitly as an outward-facing symbol—in order to project an image of Christianity towards non-Members (again, in lieu of the cross, which Mormons don’t use)—not an inward-facing one for Mormon devotion. In turn, the Christus has always only ever been erected in places intended for non-Members to learn about the Church, like temple Visitors Centers and the occasional Mormon Pavilion at a World’s Fair (most notably in 1964), and is never (so far as I have ever heard) present in temples or meetinghouses themselves.

The Christus was actually only adopted as the symbol of the wider Church in 2020, as part of President Nelson’s efforts to roll back Monson-era “I’m a Mormon” pride and again emphasize the Church’s fundamentally Christian nature to outsiders (this is the same reason the Church’s website is now churchofjesuschrist.org instead of the much more useful lds.org). I think there is something to be said about “Mormon leaders were drawn to Protestant art made in a Neoclassical style”, but I think that something is less “Mormons are drawn to Catholic imagery in particular” and is instead more “American conservatives like the aesthetics of Ancient Rome”.

I also wouldn’t read too much into the role of the Quorum of the Twelve in selecting the President; that’s more a byproduct of the largest body of the post-Martyrdom Church gaining its legitimacy by uniting around the Quorum and its president Brigham Young than anything particular to JS’s visions for the future of the Church. (Though I can’t seem to find the other post this is referencing where you make the “Americanized remake” argument, so I don’t know if you’re arguing that it’s just an interesting parallel or if it was actively intended.) For what it’s worth, it’s actually more likely that JS had intended for the presidency to be passed down through the male line to his son Joseph Smith III, with the Quorum or his brother Hyrum acting as a regent until JS3’s majority (the practice adopted by the RLDS when they reorganized after the collapse of the Strangite Church), or had otherwise intended for revealed candidates to stand in semi-democratic elections held by the Mormon people (possibly mediated by an electoral college like the successors of the Council of Fifty).

I also think it’s important to note that the Mormon Restoration of prophecy predates the First Vatican Council—where papal ex cathedra declarations were rendered infallible—by some fifty years, and that Mormons have always framed prophecy and revelation in terms of the Old Testament nevi’im, whereas papal infallibility is more like how you can’t appeal a Supreme Court decision. (Check out D&C 28:2-3 (1830), where, after another early Mormon named Hiram Page claimed to have received a revelation about the true location of Zion and the proper organization of the Church, JS sets him straight and establishes himself as the sole prophet of the Church by likening his relationship to God and Oliver Cowdery to that of Moses to God and Aaron.)

I do think there is a useful comparison here though, which I think you’re getting at: where the young Catholic Church adopted the administrative trappings of the Roman State, organizing itself into ecclesiastical dioceses and prefectures parallel to the civil ones and turning its Holy Orders into a kind of progressive cursus honorum justified through popular acclamation and imperial-papal consent, so too did the young Church of Christ look to the United States with its presidents and committees and councils and quorums and appointments confirmed by common consent. It’s no coincidence that the smallest unit of the LDS Church shares its name with the local electoral wards they were once coterminous with in Ohio and Illinois.

That said, I also think most of the organizational parallels between the LDS Church and the Catholic Church are simply down to the Catholic Church being, like, the prototypical hierarchical organization. The Watch Tower Society railed against Catholic organizational hierarchy in its early years, and yet as the Jehovah’s Witnesses movement began to grow and spread across the country, they too started to create bodies that paralleled their Catholic counterparts, with a president selected by a central all-male and infallible Governing Body overseeing branches which oversee local congregations.

Plus, the actual meat on the Mormon hierarchical skeleton is very different from basically any other Christian organization, let alone the Catholic one. Sure there are deacons and elders and priests and bishops, but any Pauline organization would have those, while they most certainly are not liable to organize them into a Levitical Order and a Holy Priesthood after the Order of the Son of God, or to create parallel women’s and youth organizations like the Relief Society and Young Men’s and Young Women’s. And while LDS bishops do provide pastoral care (at least to some degree) to congregants, I think to equivocate them with a Catholic priest or even a Protestant pastor is missing important parts of the Mormon experience. Sure bishops may “preside” over sacrament meetings, but they play virtually no role in the actual rituals: they don’t lead a Mass (a kind of liturgy which doesn’t exist in the LDS tradition), they don’t consecrate or distribute Communion (which is instead done by deacons, teachers, and priests, most of whom have been teenagers since the late 1800s), they don’t even give sermons! (It seems to be relatively unknown outside of the Church that the most part of an LDS Sunday service consists of two or three “talks” given by laymen to the congregation. While the bishopric does choose who gets invited to speak and usually gives them a fairly broad topic to speak about, the bishopric has little to no oversight over their actual contents. The only exception is talks given to the whole Church during General Conference, which are vetted for doctrinal accuracy by the Apostles first.)

Anyways, on to relics.

Basically, in line with what @hybridzizi said, relics in the Catholic sense play no role whatsoever in the LDS Church today, and their role historically has been rather marginal—certainly nothing akin to the well-developed cult of the saints in early Christianity. Mormons don’t make pilgrimages to see relics (or if they do, they do so out of historical curiosity, rather than religious obligation), and they don’t build or consecrate reliquaries, temples, churches, or altars (insofar as altars even exist in the LDS tradition) to house them. And certainly today they don’t believe that relics have any particular miraculous powers to heal or encourage saintly intercession on their behalf, and they wouldn’t give a relic any kind of special devotion outside of its historical and spiritual significance as a symbol of their faith. I can totally imagine a Mormon bringing their pioneer ancestor’s shoe to a sacrament meeting and talking about how, when they look at the shoe, they remember the importance of perseverance and self-sacrifice and think about the faith their ancestor must have had to follow the Church to Utah and how that all strengthens their own Testimony that the Church is True, but they wouldn’t, like, kiss it or use it as a vehicle for prayer. It’s just a shoe. A special one, sure, but not a sacred one.

What you’re seeing instead in Murder Among the Mormons (I haven’t seen this either, but I’m well familiar with Hofmann and the Church politics surrounding his work) is an episode in the Church’s long quest for legitimacy. While it might help strengthen their Testimony in some way, Mormon laymen don’t actually particularly care if the Church gets its hands on some old papyrus or some Smith family heirloom. But for the Brighamite Church in Salt Lake City, every old artefact, every heirloom, every plot of land and historic building site in Independence and Adam-ondi-Ahman and Nauvoo, anything that belongs to the CoC or the Fundamentalists or the Bickertonites and not to them is a chip in their claim to be the One True Heir of Joseph Smith. The Church rarely even displays these items when they get them: they just store them with the Church History Department or the Presiding Bishopric in some vault in SLC, or maybe give them to a Church museum or BYU if they’re particularly interesting—certainly not the kind of behaviour you’d expect in a relic-oriented church.

There is, however, a historical example of this quest for legitimacy that I think is more similar to what you’re thinking of with the relics comparison. JS had a way of making the world around early Mormons feel magical, of making their faith in him and his work come alive, and one of the ways he did this was by regaling Mormons with the tales associated with the artefacts he collected, the accoutrements he carried, and the many places they travelled to.

Sticks, staffs, and stones were conduits for divine revelation, tools for discerning meaning in the mystical world. Those little bits of papyrus touring the US with Michael Chandler in 1835 weren’t just random scrolls, they were written by the very hand of the patriarchs Abraham and Joseph, and revealed hitherto unknown secrets about the nature of God and Creation! Chandler’s mummies weren’t just random mummies, they were the Pharaoh Onitas and his family, they were the daughters who saved baby Moses from the river, they were the royal entourage of Joseph himself! When the Zion’s Camp military expedition set off to reclaim some land that had been taken from some Mormon settlers in Missouri in 1834, that land became a prophesied holy site, the location of one of the future capitals of God’s millennial kingdom on Earth, and JS became like Moses and Joshua, a prophet ready to conquer the Promised Land with outstretched hand. And when on the way they passed by a Hopewell mound in western Illinois, it wasn’t just an ancient Indian burial ground, it was the tomb of the mighty white Lamanite warrior Zelph, who bravely served under the prophet Onondagus and fought a great battle against the infidels, against all odds, to defend what he knew to be True.

Stories like these abound in early Mormonism, and while again I feel that the comparison with Catholic saints’ relics is missing some important differences (as well as some important context about the role of ritual objects and folk magic across early American Protestantism), the objects they were attached to were certainly highly significant to early Mormons. It’s no coincidence that one of the first things James Strang did, in a bid to bolster his legitimacy in the post-Martyrdom Church, was to discover a set of brass plates containing the veritable Record of Rajah Manchou of Vorito. And when recent Mormon converts Wilbur Fugate and Robert Wiley wanted to play a prank on their local congregation in Kinderhook, to “prove the prophecy by way of a joke,” the proof they turned to was, fittingly, “discovering” and exhibiting in the town hall a collection of small copper plates, only to find that they were of interest to none other than JS himself.

Probably the most properly relic-like of these early objects were the coffin canes, a set of walking sticks made from the bloodstained oak coffins that were used to move JS and Hyrum from the Carthage Jail to their first burial plots and distributed among several early Mormon leaders and Smith family and friends. Some accounts even have their ivory knobs filled with locks of JS’s hair, or their handles made from the refashioned glass of the clear coffins JS and Hyrum were stored in until they were buried permanently. Brigham Young used his coffin cane for the rest of his life, and likened it to JS’s own serpent staff and the rod of Aaron as a symbol of his rightful authority and succession as leader of the Church. Many Mormons even believed, beyond their role as symbols of the Martyrdom and conduits for revelation (and in classic reliquary fashion), that the canes had the ability to heal ailments at a touch, and they remained in use as thaumaturgical instruments until as late the presidency of Wilford Woodruff (r. 1889–1898).

While likely few were converted by encountering these relics and artefacts alone, as holy objects they made Mormonism feel real. They were the faith made physical. They connected Mormons and their Scriptures to the land they lived on, made prophecy and history visible in their everyday lives, made them feel the blood of Abraham and Manasseh flowing through their veins.

And they also just kind of stopped happening?

Brigham Young, for all he modelled himself after JS, never found any plates or notable artefacts in Utah (in fact, he believed himself to not be a “natural seer”, and didn’t believe he was capable of using seer stones and translating as Smith had), and despite his cane he never took any great pains to work Mormon reverence towards JS and himself into a material cult. Because while the Martyrdom may have given Mormons the impetus and the materials to make relics of JS, the Exodus changed Mormonism. While Utah Mormons were of course still interested in Egyptians and the ancient history of the Americas (indeed, some Mormons were convinced of the prophecies of the Paiute leader Wovoka as late as 1892), and likewise in the life and works of Joseph Smith, the journey to the Far West had separated them from all but a few of their remains, and the trials of travel and building Zion shifted the spiritual focus of the Saints away from holy relics and seer stones and towards what I think can best be understood as a kind of national commitment to the righteous cause of the Mormon people. (That’s not to say that nationalism, especially of the American variety, isn’t in some way inherently religious, but the distinction I think matters when discussing the ideological and ritual implications of devotional objects like these.)

Even as early as the Mormon Reformation, a religious revival movement in the mid-1850s, you didn’t see an explosion of relics or pilgrimages to holy sites or even visions or speaking in tongues in Mormon communities, as might have been expected just ten or fifteen years earlier. The faith of people was instead evident in their perseverance and frugality, and was displayed not through dulia or the maintenance of the cult of Joseph Smith, but through impassioned personal speeches at Thursday fast meetings, through repeated rebaptism for the remission of the sins of yourself and all your ancestors, and through a with-all-your-heart-soul-mind-and-strength kind of commitment to building up the economic and demographic strength and unity of the people of Zion.

Save a short period in the 1880s and 1890s when the LDS Church happily testifies against the RLDS Church in the Kirtland Temple Suits and the Temple Lot Case (the LDS Church, then being disincorporated by the Federal Government and having its own property put under federal management by the Edmunds–Tucker Act of 1887, was really in no place to claim legal legitimacy for itself), it’s only really after the 1950s, in a period when the LDS Church is finally starting to gain the political and cultural respect as an All-American Christian Institution™ that it had long craved (and a period when the Church finally had the economic resources and nationwide political connections to mobilize towards those ends—Deseret Ranches in Florida, for example, was only founded in 1949), that you see the Church move to collect relics and holy sites again, in a bid to materially delegitimize the other heirs of the Latter Day Saint movement. To some extent this was easy, as a lot of these movements were moribund, had had their property appropriated by the government or bought by private owners, or were going through crises of faith of their own as the Fourth Great Awakening wracked the old religious status quo. LDS businessman Wilford Wood had actually started buying back historic properties for the Church as early as 1937, though his goal of purchasing the Nauvoo temple lot was only completed in 1962, and his propositions to buy the Independence Temple Lot were all rejected out of hand by the RLDS and Hendrickites.

The RLDS Church, for what it’s worth, also sought to secure its legitimacy in this period, finally completing its Temple Lot Auditorium in 1958 and beginning its plans to preserve and rededicate the Kirtland Temple in 1952, not to mention its keen defence of Smith family real and personal property in Nauvoo and its unwillingness to work with Dean Jessee’s LDS-sponsored project to collect and transcribe JS’s personal papers in the 1970s. (This is indeed why the Joseph Smith Papers are only being collected and published now, after a trial run on the JST in 1997 showed that the two Churches could work together in good faith.)

To finish this up, I think there’s also something to be said for this being part of a general postwar trend towards historical preservation and collection, and part of a boom in the entire historical profession. Outside of the battle for material legitimacy, historians, archivists, and other academics throughout the Latter Day Saint movement would spend the period coordinating and organizing with each other to produce some of the earliest proper scholarship on Mormon history and culture (many other American Christian groups had begun to do so in the midst of the Third Great Awakening, the relationship of the Latter Day Saint movement to which is another essay entirely). The Mormon History Association was founded in 1965 and its journal in 1974, the CoC-aligned John Whitmer Historical Association was founded in 1972, the Association for Mormon Letters in 1976. Even the now-defunct FARMS, bastion of Mormon pseudohistorical apologetics, was first organized only in 1979.

It’s no coincidence that Hofmann, with his ready-made media sensations, appears only a year later.

I think that’s enough of that. For those interested in further reading on Mormon visual and material culture and its history, I think two very good starting points are D. Michael Quinn, Early Mormonism and the Magic World View (Revised and Expanded ed., Signature Books, 1998), and especially Terry L. Givens, People of Paradox: A History of Mormon Culture (Oxford UP, 2007).

Can you explain the Mormonism/Catholicism comparison? I think I missed that one, and I never want to miss a chance to shit on the church of LDS

Key part in the post is the “Americanized remake” part but when I watched Murder Among the Mormons I was struck at how Mormons have a culture about relics and finding obscure paraphernalia relating to important figures so they can bring it to the church and this kind of veneration of relics is something you hardly ever see in other post-Reformation sects of Christianity

Plus the whole structured centralized hierarchy with the Americanized part being adding some nods towards republicanism. Like the spiritual head is picked in an election amongst senior clergyman who always elect one of their own and this spiritual head has the ability to say things and claim they came directly from God (granted papal infallibility hasn’t yet been used for a sudden 180 in teachings but it potentially can be used that way). Mormons call their guy “president” rather than using titles which come from the Roman Empire but this reflects the wider political context of the state they emerged in.

Also there’s an old stereotype of Catholics always having large families that is kinda outdated now in the US but that’s def an overlap

[artbyeloquent]

Hill to Die On: A WIP Novel by Eloquent

[ image id: eight images in a square grid collage surround the title; a gravestone, blood-drenched hands, a snarling dog’s teeth, a magem david laid across a siddur prayer book, a cityscape at night, a decaying hallway, a silhouette on a dark street, and an autumn forest path. ]

A GRUESOME SMILE snaked across his face. “Isn’t it romantic?” he crooned. “How close to death we all are?” His fingertips dragged down his eyelids and cheeks, but the smile remained. “I don’t have a lot of time left, Rimon. Best use it wisely.”

RIMON exorcises ghosts for a living. At least, that’s the cool way of putting it. They’re more of a glorified ghost therapist. But it’s a relatively quiet job in the chaotic industry of spirit intervention, and they wouldn’t trade it for the world. Unfortunately, they don’t have much choice when their coworker returns from a hunt erratic and disturbed. Rimon is thrust headfirst into a dangerous mystery they want no part in, but they no longer have a choice. Do they have what it takes to lead their team into the eye of the storm, before it swallows Boston whole?

Hill to Die On is a contemporary paranormal thriller written through the lens of Jewish characters, spirituality, and daily life.

content warnings: death, blood, gore, possession, existential crisis and existentialism, ghosts, demons, combat/severe wounds.  [more to add later]

pov: third person limited omniscent

status: outlining/first draft

themes: the many ways to be Jewish, spirituality, existentialism, found family workplace, processing grief/trauma/death, what it means to be human, strength in community, facing your demons (literally), resisting cultural/religious assimilation, generational healing

CHARACTERS [ main and secondary ]

RIMON | 44, nonbinary, aroace, they/them | Rimon is an Intermediary in the Department of Inter-Planar Relationships. They deal with low-level spirit conflicts such as minor hauntings, possessions, and hauntings of unfinished business. They are a laidback individual with a dry wit and easy contentment with their position in life. They are Ashkenazi and identify with conservative Judaism.

DEV | late 40s, cis woman, aro pansexual, she/her | The Head of Rimon’s department. Bitter, no-nonsense, only cracks a smile when the stars align, but extremely close with Rimon. She is Mizrahi and identifies culturally with Judaism but doesn’t believe in G-d.

JAKE | mid 30s, cis man, heterosexual, he/him | A cocky top Neutralizer from the Department of Emergency Management and Control. He has a good heart but no respect for his elders. He is Ashkenazi and identifies with reform Judaism.

YAEL | mid 30s, nonbinary, bisexual, xe/xem/xir | Rimon’s second in command on their team. Way more high strung and easily stressed than Rimon, xe has a hard time “taking a chill pill.” Xe identifies with “conservadox” Judaism.

ARIEL | late 20s, trans man, panromantic asexual, he/him | Resident freeloader of Rimon’s Intermediary team. Horrible at desk work but great in the field. He is Sephardic and identifies culturally but not all that religiously with Judaism. Still gets into existential debates with Rimon for fun.

TAMARA | 34, trans woman, heterosexual, she/her | Rimon’s little sister and the wild one of the siblings. Always sticks her nose in Rimon’s business even if she’s not an Intermediary. Kicks their ass into action when they Just Don’t Wanna.

SIMON | 40, cis man, bisexual, he/him | Often mistaken for Rimon’s twin, the pair of them make each other more chaotic than necessary. Incredibly overprotective of Tamara, who could not care less. More excitable than his older sister and more family-oriented than either of his siblings. Has no idea what to make of what’s going on.

TAGLIST [ ask to be + / - ]:

@ellierenae @drsnefarious

reblogs are much appreciated!

[tcm]

Interview with Richard Benjamin on Making Comedy Look Easy in MY FAVORITE YEAR (’82) By Donald Leibenson

To hear Richard Benjamin tell it, MY FAVORITE YEAR was a charmed production. For his first film as a director, he had been looking for a comedy (“I’m just kind of bent that way,” he jokes) and the stars aligned to bring him a script that, he says, was everything he knew. He had Mel Brooks as the film’s guardian angel. He had a bona-fide movie star that his wife, Paula Prentiss, recommended after another actor regretfully declined the film’s plum role. And he heeded Carl Reiner, who gave him succinct advice about making a comedy: “Get funny people.”

Which he did. The film is character actor heaven, with Joseph Bologna, Anne de Salvo, Selma Diamond, Adolph Green, Basil Hoffman, Lainie Kazan and Bill Macy.

MY FAVORITE YEAR is set in the mid-1950s when television was live and comedy was king. Mark Linn-Baker stars as Benjy Stone, a young comedy writer on a variety show reminiscent of Your Show of Shows, where he ardently pursues the show’s not-amused production assistant (Jessica Harper). During one life-changing week, he is assigned to chaperone the show’s guest star, his idol, former swashbuckling screen hero, Alan Swann (Peter O’Toole in an Oscar-nominated performance), who has a penchant for drink, womanizing and otherwise behaving badly. 

Benjamin spoke with TCM about casting O’Toole, trying to pin down Mel Brooks and why you should never end a comedy in a graveyard.

To quote Alan Swann’s great line, dying is easy, comedy is hard. With MY FAVORITE YEAR, you make it look so easy. How did the project come to you?

Paula and I were in New York. My agent, David Gersh, sent the script by Norman [Steinberg] and Dennis [Palumbo, credited as co-writer due to the Screen Writers Guild arbitration]. I remember reading it in the hotel room and as I finished, I said, ‘This is everything I know.’ I was in high school when Your Show of Shows was on. I would get on the phone with my friend Shelley Berger, who I am still close to, and we would do all these routines they had done on the show on Saturday night. I grew up loving Errol Flynn and those swashbuckling movies. I had also worked at 30 Rockefeller Plaza [the film’s setting] as an NBC page and guide, and I knew every inch of that place. [The script] was right up my alley, as they say.

Brooksfilms produced the film, and Mel Brooks was a writer on Your Show of Shows. Did he serve as the film’s guardian angel or offer any input?

Guardian angel’s good. He kept saying he would give Norman and I two full days to sit down and go over the script to see if we could make it even funnier. The truth of the matter is that the script didn’t need much of anything, but he promised that. Trying to get Mel to stop moving is a feat. We went to his house, and he invited us in and then said he was going out. He said he had to walk the dog. Then he comes back, and he said he had to go, that there was a crisis at Fox. I said, ‘No there’s not,’ and he said, ‘Well, there could be.’ So, what he ended up giving us was two hours, but it was a great two hours. And the next thing you know, he was gone.

But Norman and I came up with one of the best jokes in the movie while we were standing in his driveway watching him drive away. It’s the one where Swann falls off the roof and plummets past the two elitist guys. And one says, ‘I think Alan Swann’s beneath us,’ and the other guy says, ‘Of course he’s beneath us, he’s an actor.’

I cannot imagine anyone but Peter O’Toole as Alan Swann. Was he the first choice?

Albert Finney had been offered the role, but he had not committed. He was up in Sausalito making SHOOT THE MOON [’82]. They told me I had to go up there and convince him to do the film; otherwise they couldn’t make the movie. The list of people M-G-M would go with was very short, because who are you going to believe with a sword in their hands? So, I’m on this mission, because if he says yes, I’m going to get to make a movie. We arranged to have lunch together. He’s completely charming. I get ready to ask the question – which could change my life, by the way: ‘Will you do it?’ He said, ‘Well…,’ and I could tell it was going to be a no. He thought the script was really good, but he had done two or three movies in a row and he said he wanted to get back to the theater. Then he said to me, ‘Why don’t you get O’Toole?’ He said, ‘We do this all the time. I turn something down, he does it, he turns something down, I do it.’ When I got back home, Paula who had made WHAT’S NEW PUSSYCAT? [’65] with Peter, said, ‘Get Peter. He is perfect for this.’ Finney said it, Paula said it. And I asked [co-producer] Michael Gruskoff if M-G-M would make the film with O’Toole, and Michael said yes.  

What was the meeting with Peter like?

(Laughs) That meeting! That meeting was quite something. First of all, we couldn’t find him. We could tell we had the right person because the behavior was just like the character. He had a farm in Ireland with no phone. You had to call this pub to get a message to him. I called the pub and they said Peter wasn’t there. His agent didn’t know where he was. I called his manager and said, ‘We’re trying to find your client.’ He said, ‘He’s at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. He’s been here for a week.’ 

So, I’m actually talking to Peter O’Toole, and he said he had heard about the project and to send him a script and we would get together the next day. I go over and there he is in a beautiful suite wearing a smoking jacket; he is the character. He said, ‘Here’s the thing…’ and I thought, ‘Here we go again.’ He said he liked it very much, but he hadn’t read the last ten pages and to please indulge him and he would call tomorrow. The next day, on the dot, he called and he said to turn to the last page of the script.

Now, in the original script, there’s a scene which I shot that would have played after what’s in the movie. It took place in a Hollywood cemetery, and Benjy is walking past the gravestones. He says in voiceover that Alan Swann made him promise he would do something on his birthday every year. Alan has passed away, and Benjy comes to his grave, kneels down and pours a bottle of Courvoisier over the tombstone. That’s what’s on the last page. Peter asked me to read the date that was on the tombstone. It was Aug. 2. He said, ‘Aug. 2 is my birthday; did you know that?’ I asked Norman if he knew that, and Norman said no, he had made it up. And Peter says, ‘Therefore, I must do the film.’

What happened to that scene?

I was terribly reluctant to take that out because Peter did the movie because of it. But people at M-G-M said I couldn’t end a comedy in a cemetery. We had two audience screenings, one with that ending and one without it. In the screening with it, the audience enjoyed the picture, but the scene put a pall over things. Then we had the screening without it and the audience was very enthusiastic and very up as they came out.

How did you find Mark Linn-Baker?

Our casting director Ellen Chenoweth said the first person to get was Mark Linn-Baker. Mark came in and read and was terrific. I said, ‘This is my first movie, I can’t cast the first person who walks in here.’ I saw maybe 25 to 35 more—some really good people—but she was right, so after all of that, I said to get him.

Peter and Mark had great chemistry.

They seemed to hit it off right away, but later, back in L.A. after we shot the long scene on the roof, which played like a mini-farce, Peter came up to me and said, ‘I like the lad, you cast him well.’

Was Peter game for the physical stunts?

I couldn’t stop him from doing them! The bathroom scene required him to fall headfirst into the wall. I came to him before we shot and I said, ‘The camera is so close, I can’t pad this wall.’ He said, ‘I was brought up in music hall. I can do this all day. Don’t concern yourself.’

Director Howard Hawks once said that a good movie was three or four good scenes and no bad scenes. I lose count watching MY FAVORITE YEAR of how many great scenes there are in it. Between those driven by comic banter, the TV sketches, the physical comedy scenes, the quieter romantic scenes and even the dramatic confrontations, did you have a favorite type to direct?

I can’t say there was a favorite. It’s all of a piece. I will tell you that one of the scenes I like is in the Stork Club and getting to do something that reminded me of all these kinds of wonderful comic movies I loved growing up. I do remember that one of the first things we shot was the scene in Central Park where Alan Swann mounts the horse. It just seemed to lack energy. And I was thinking, ‘I have to go tell Peter O’Toole that he has to pick up the pace and it has to be lighter.’ I went up to him and said, ‘It’s good, but…’ and before I could finish, he said, ‘You want it faster and funnier.’ I said, ‘You’ve got it,’ and he said, ‘And you shall have it.’ And I thought, ‘This directing thing is not so hard.’ (laughs)

Were there directors you worked with as an actor who particularly inspired you when you became a director? For example, you worked with one of the best, Mike Nichols.

Mike, yes. He directed me in the national company of Barefoot in the Park and [the film] CATCH-22 [’70]. Mike’s thing was he’d come up to you very quietly and say, ‘Just like in real life.’ That was his main thing. It meant that there should be no ‘acting’ here; your character responds to situations as they would in life. It’s like what [critic] Walter Kerr once said about Neil Simon’s jokes: They have the truth in them. This is what funny people know: You can’t try to get a laugh, because you won’t get it.  

At one point, Alan Swann says that doing the TV show was the most fun and the hardest work since the world was young. Was that what making MY FAVORITE YEAR was like for you?

It was the most fun, there’s no question of that. It was a magical experience because of the screenplay and everyone involved. Everyone’s game came up because of Peter. You don’t need many takes with him, that’s for sure. But how all of this came about and got to the point where I would be offered this, and what has to happen in your life to come to that moment – you can’t make it up. And when that moment comes, you’re hopefully ready. I was really fortunate.

[aion-rsa]

From Man of Steel to Zack Snyder’s Justice League: A Complete DCEU Timeline

https://ift.tt/3eYjG5C

This article contains spoilers for Zack Snyder’s Justice League and other DC movies.

The timeline of the DC Extended Universe began in a fairly clear manner, with most of the events of Man of Steel set in 2013. As more films were released, containing flashbacks, or lacking a clear chronological setting, things became increasingly complicated. And by the time we got to Birds of Prey film, its precise placement in the DCEU is downright murky. But there are contextual in-universe clues in the form of media, gravestones, mugshot photos, or throwaway lines of dialogue that provide some clarity. 

With the long-awaited release of the Snyder Cut of Justice League hitting HBO Max, it’s a good time to break down what we know so far about when some significant moments in DCEU history took place.

100,000 B.C.

The Kryptonian Expansion: Krypton begins interstellar exploration and launches scout ships into the void of space. They colonize and flourish for 100 thousand years until artificial population control is introduced. (Man of Steel)

18,000 B.C.

A Kryptonian scout ship crash lands on Earth; one Kryptonian escapes the craft, leaving behind an empty pod. (Man of Steel) According to a Man of Steel prequel comic that may may not still be canon, her name was Kara Zor-El.

Thousands of Years Ago

Darkseid seeks to conquer Earth, but is foiled by the combined forces of man, Atlanteans, Themyscirans, Olympian gods, and at least one member of the Green Lantern Corps, Yalan Gur. Three Mother Boxes are hidden across the planet: in Atlantis, on Themyscira, and with mankind. (Zack Snyder’s Justice League)

Millennia after the Amazons are created, Ares goes to war with the Olympian gods, and kills all of them, including Zeus. Themyscira is created with Zeus’ remaining power. Somewhere during this period, Atlantis sinks beneath the waves. (Wonder Woman)

The ancient wizard Shazam imbues a champion with the powers of six mythological figures, only for him to become corrupted by the power. (Shazam!)

Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Queen Hippolyta, grows up on the hidden island, and trains to become a warrior under General Antiope. (Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman 1984)

1918

Diana saves Steve Trevor who has crashed on Themyscira. He warns her of the great war, World War I, raging across the globe. She joins him in the world of man, and together they seek to stop the evil Dr. Maru and General Ludendorff (who Diana incorrectly believes is the God of War, Ares). Steve Trevor dies. (Wonder Woman)

Read more

Comics

Wonder Woman Movie: Complete DC Comics Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

By Mike Cecchini

Movies

Does Zack Snyder’s Justice League Set Up Wonder Woman 3?

By David Crow

1974

Thaddeus Sivana is magically transported to the Rock of Eternity and fails the test of worthiness conducted by the wizard Shazam. (Shazam!)

1980

After the explosion of his homeworld, Kal-El of Krypton crash lands on Earth, and is taken in by Jonathan and Martha Kent of Smallville, Kansas. This date is approximate, but while being interrogated in Man of Steel, Superman says he’s been on the planet for 33 years. (Man of Steel)

1981

Thomas and Martha Wayne are murdered in Gotham City, leaving their young song Bruce an orphan with a serious grudge against criminals. (Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice)

1984

Diana Prince operates in secret as the heroine Wonder Woman, while also working by day at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C. After unwittingly using the Dreamstone, she resurrects Steve Trevor (who inhabits another man’s body). Barbara Ann Minerva, also through the use of the Dreamstone, gains superpowers and is ultimately transformed into Cheetah. Businessman Max Lord wishes to become the stone itself, and uses his powers to create global chaos. (Wonder Woman 1984)

Read more

Movies

Wonder Woman 1984: DC Comics Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

By Delia Harrington

Movies

Wonder Woman 1984 Post Credits Scene Explained

By Mike Cecchini

1985

Lighthouse keeper Thomas Curry rescues and falls in love with Atlantean queen Atlanna; Arthur Curry, aka, Aquaman is born shortly thereafter. (Aquaman)

Circa 1995

Bruce Wayne begins operating in Gotham as the vigilante Batman.

1997

Jonathan Kent dies in a tornado after discouraging Clark from using his powers to save him. (Man of Steel)

2013

This is a bat-signal in the dark, but this is a reasonable estimate on when both Dr. Harlene Quinzel becomes Harley Quinn, and when Dick Grayson, Batman’s partner Robin, is murdered. Suicide Squad lists Quinzel’s date of birth as July 1990. It seems unlikely she would have become a psychiatrist, and assigned to the Joker in Arkham before age 23. Still, Robin is dead by October 2014 (and presumably dead by the Black Zero Event in late 2013, as shown in Man of Steel). This allows for about a year for Harleen to help Joker escape Arkham, take a transformational acid bath, and help the Clown Prince kill Grayson.

Read more

Movies

Man of Steel: Complete DC Comics Easter Eggs and References Guide

By Mike Cecchini

Movies

Superman Movies Ranked: The Best and Worst of the Man of Steel

By Mike Cecchini

Batman apprehends Floyd Lawton, aka the hitman known as Deadshot, while he’s Christmas shopping with his daughter. (Suicide Squad)

General Zod invades Earth, and Superman reveals himself to the world. Bruce Wayne witnesses the battle between the two, and sees the Wayne Financial Building in Metropolis collapse. (Man of Steel)

2014

Harley Quinn is captured by Batman after Joker drives their car into the harbor, and abandons her. When she is introduced in Suicide Squad, she is listed as an accomplice to Robin’s murder, which is what leads to her arrival at Belle Reve prison. (Suicide Squad)

2015

Victor Stone and his mother are in a car accident which kills her, and puts him on death’s door. Victor’s father uses Mother Box technology to keep him alive and transform him into an incredibly powerful cyborg. (Justice League)

2016

The holy trinity of DC meet! Batman and Superman duke it out before joining forces against Lex Luthor’s Doomsday creature. Meanwhile, Diana joins the action, and dons her Wonder Woman suit in battle. Sadly, Superman dies, but Bruce and Diana decide to form a league of heroes. (Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice)

Read more

Comics

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice – Complete DC Comics Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

By Mike Cecchini

Movies

Suicide Squad: Complete DC Comics Easter Eggs and Character Guide

By Mike Cecchini

Amanda Waller establishes the government sanctioned Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squade, to respond to metahuman threats (and following the death of Superman). Enchantress enslaves Midway City, but is ultimately thwarted by the squad. (Suicide Squad)

2017

Bruce Wayne and Diana assemble a team including Barry Allen, Vic Stone, and Arthur Curry to battle Steppenwolf, who has returned to Earth. Superman is resurrected, and ultimately joins the fight. Shortly after Superman’s return, Lex Luthor breaks out of Arkham and reveals Batman’s secret identity to Slade Wilson, aka Deathstroke. (Justice League)

2018

After defeating his half-brother Orm and stopping a war between the underwater kingdoms and the surface world, Arthur Curry ascends the throne as king of Atlantis, wielder of the Trident of Atlan, and ruler of the seven seas. (Aquaman)

2019

Billy Batson is granted the powers of Shazam, and thwarts Dr. Sivana’s evil plans. While this could take place a little earlier, it is pretty well established within the film the events occur after those of Justice League, so we’ll just default to year of release here. (Shazam!)

Read more

Comics

Shazam: DC Comics Easter Eggs and References Guide

By Mike Cecchini

Movies

Shazam 2 Will Have a Sinbad Cameo and a Cool Title

By Delia Harrington

Barry Allen encounters a parallel universe version of himself in STAR Labs. Though it is unclear when in his timeline the encounter occurs, it is before he has adopted the moniker of The Flash — which is given to him by the Arrowverse’s Barry. Based on his reaction to the meeting, it can be assumed this takes place before Barry has explored other realities via the Speed Force. (Crisis on Infinite Earths)

2020

Harley Quinn and Joker break up, and she establishes a new life in Gotham. She goes to war with Roman Sionis, and the Birds of Prey are formed. The events of Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) take place after both Suicide Squad and Justice League — and at a time when Batman has gone missing.  (Birds of Prey)

202?

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

As seen in the epilogue of Zack Snyder’s Justice League, in a potential future, Superman has succumbed to Darkseid’s anti-life equation following the death of Lois Lane. As a result, he becomes a powerful weapon wielded against humanity, and his former teammates, including Batman and Flash, as well as Mera, Slade Wilson, and Joker. Many heroes of the past, meanwhile, have perished. (Zack Snyder’s Justice League)  

The post From Man of Steel to Zack Snyder’s Justice League: A Complete DCEU Timeline appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2OTXe2G

[rye-views]

Schindler’s List (1993) dir. Steven Spielberg. 7.6/10 Updated 3 years later (8.8.20) 7.7/10

I like the close up and handheld-like nature of the camera movements when they are all crowded up. Really depicts the chaos.

The background music matches the scenes well. eg. when the red-coat girl is first introduced. Also, the Jewish people walking at the end.  The walk is truly so beautiful along with the stone setting.

The gravestone walkway is very well made, but so disrespectful.

I love how Schindler is so respectful by the end. I love it. I love how selfless he had become.

I’m pretty into war films. This is really inspiring in some ways and really devastating in others.

Updated Commentary:

I just love Stern.

Danka is also a cute addition.

Spoiler: [About Oskar Schindler coming to Kraków during WWII. He buys drinks for and gets along well with the German elite. The Jewish people are being forced to wear the Star of David on their arms after registering as Jews. Schindler talks to Itzhak Stern and has him run everything that involves him starting and maintaining an enamelware factory. He wants the Jewish people’s money since they can’t have their own businesses and they can get paid for with actual products. Schindler goes to a church to talk to the Jewish smugglers. They walk out one by one, but Poldek Pfefferberg gets stuck talking to Schindler about providing good products. The Jewish people are forced into the ghetto while Schindler has a nice apartment. Stern eventually gets people to invest and he works for Schindler. The factory is set up and Stern gathers Jewish people after forging documents that deem them as essential workers. They get removed from being sent to camps. Schindler works to find a secretary. Schindler’s wife, Emilie, comes to visit and doesn’t care for his new secretary, Wiktoria Klonowska. Schindler makes the doorman know who his wife is and he goes out to dinner with her. They catch up and he talks of wanting to be extraordinary. She heads home later. Stern has one of Schindler’s workers, Mr. Lowenstein, talk to him to thank him for saving him. Schindler reprimands Stern later since the man has one arm and he doesn’t want to be in this position. Rolf Czurda talks with Schindler about the insignificance of Jews as Schindler wants to be compensated for losing a worker. Lowenstein was shot and killed as the Jewish people were shoveling snow. Schindler learns from Poldek that Stern was put on the list to be on a train. He heads to the station and the clerks don’t help him since his name is on the list and the list isn’t wrong. Schindler gets the names of both men who don’t help him and says they’ll be reinstated to Southern Russia. They start helping him find Stern and they do so as the train leaves. Stern explains to Schindler that he didn’t have his documents on him. The rest of the Jewish people depart as their belongings are sorted into categories. The Jewish people in the ghetto talks about their lives. Amon Göth is driven through the ghetto as he arrives for the start of the Plaszów labor camp construction. He picks out his new helper, Helen Hirsch, from a line of girls. A Jewish engineer, Diana Reiter, reports that the foundation must be torn down and redone or the building will collapse. Göth has his men shoot her and has the foundation redone. Göth addresses his men about the success of the Jewish people and how it will come to an end. They rally the Jewish people to be put on trains as Schindler and his wife watch from afar as they ride horses. The Jewish people hide important belongings, hide themselves in specific hiding spots, and some are killed on the spot. A little girl, Danka, and her mother are helped by Danka’s friend, Adam. Schindler notices a little girl wearing a red coat in the turmoil. Göth occasionally shoots people at random in front of his villa. Schindler joins to eat with the other German elites and meets Göth. He talks to Göth about his empty factory and how he needs workers. Göth discusses with him and allows him to create his own subcamp for his workers. Göth would be getting money in return and has Stern handle everything. Stern works for Göth now and he tells Schindler of important things to know. Göth and his men test the abilities of the workers to see that they are capable. One worker is put to get shot and killed for not making enough products even though he had a reasonable excuse. The guns fail to shoot and he is saved. A man is killed as they try to figure out who stole a chicken. A little boy says the thief was the man who was killed. The boy is hired by Schindler later. A Jewish girl named Regina Perlman goes to visit Schindler and he refuses to meet her after seeing her. She comes back dressing better off and he meets with her. She wants him to hire her parents and that his place is like a

haven. He yells at her until she runs away. He goes to yell at Stern since he’s not here to help people. They also talk about Göth and Stern talks of Göth’s ruthless nature in killing. Schindler has Stern bring over Regina’s parents and Regina is happy when she sees them being transferred. During Göth’s party, Lisiek gets materials from Helen to clean Göth’s bathtub. Schindler appears during this and talks with Helen. She eventually starts talking about her abuse from Göth. Schindler explains to her that Göth is ruthless to those he doesn’t know, but she pleases him. Schindler talks with a drunk Göth about having power by not killing others even if it’s justified. Göth talks to Stern since auditors are looking through his books. He gets upset at his stable boy for not handling his saddle well, but he doesn’t get upset further. Lisiek fails to remove the stains from Göth’s bathtub and he’s allowed to go with no punishment. In a bit, Göth starts shooting at the boy from afar until he’s killed. Helen does his nails as he stares at her. Göth talks to Helen later and praises her and talks to her about her loneliness. He wants to kiss her, but decides not to since she’s Jewish and he beats her. Schindler celebrates his birthday until a Jewish mother and daughter gift him a cake in front of the Germans. Schindler kisses them. The Jewish people talk of a story of being gassed in the showers. Many don’t believe it. The Germans have the Jewish men and women run naked to separate them into the healthy and the unhealthy. During this time, the children are sent away. Some children manage to stay behind by hiding. The parents try to stop their children from being taken away, but are blocked. Schindler convinces the men to hose down the trains to give them water. Göth believes it is evil since it gives them a taste of hope. Schindler is later arrested for having kissed a Jewish woman. Göth convinces the officer that Schindler couldn’t have helped kissing the girl since she was good looking, He offers a bribe to get Schindler released. Göth is to send the Jewish people in Płaszów to Auschwitz. Piles of bodies are burned and the camp is closing. Schindler sees the body of the girl in the red coat. He starts creating a list of his workers to have them released and given to work for his new munitions factory in Brinnlitz. Göth agrees for a bribe, but doesn’t understand as Schindler pays for each individual. Stern helps with the list and says it’s an absolute good. Schindler wants the last name on the list to be Helen and Göth refuses. Göth wants to take her with him, but knows he can’t. The woman and men on the list, including Helen, are put on trains to be transported. The men arrive, but the women are accidentally sent to Auschwitz, because of a paperwork problem. The women realize that they aren’t in the right place as they are forced to have their heads shaved, be stripped, and put into the showers. They are relieved once the showers expel regular water. Schindler arrives to take them after paying Rudolf Höss in diamonds. When Danka is separated from her mother, Schindler confronts the guard and tells him that her small fingers polish the inside of small, metal casings. She is returned to her family. Schindler talks to his SS guards about not hurting his workers. They aren’t allowed in the factory without authorization. Emilie comes to volunteer at the clinic and Schindler promises her that she will always be recognized as his wife now. Stern reports that their products aren’t passing the tests and talks of the rumor that Schindler is re-calibrating the machines. Schindler wants them to not produce real shells and tries to buy other shells to pass as their own. Schindler has his workers observe the Sabbath. Stern reports that Schindler is broke. The news reveal that the war has ended. Schindler addresses all his workers about it and how they’ll begin the process of finding their families tomorrow. He thanks Stern and everyone and talks of how he has to go into hiding now since he’s a member of the Nazi Party and had profited from the

war. He has the guards come in and allows them to either kill the Jewish people or leave as men instead of murderers. They leave. Schindler has them observe three minutes of silence. The Jewish people create a ring for Schindler with an engraving of a Talmudic quote. They also provide him a letter with everyone’s signatures explaining his role in case he is captured. Schindler breaks down to Stern about how he could’ve saved more people. He leaves with his wife. In the morning, a messenger tells them that they are liberated and can go to a friendly town nearby. Göth is hung. The actors and actresses, along with the real survivors, place stones on Oskar Schindler’s gravestone. Liam Neeson puts roses on.]

[enkelimagnus]

Shul (Past)

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1521 words, rated T for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

A 3am run down memory lane and the streets of Brooklyn take Bucky on a bit of an emotional journey.

Read on AO3

Part 2 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series, Part 1 here

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

Brooklyn’s nights aren’t as quiet as he remembers them to be.

There’s light everywhere now, noise and cars still driving by despite the fact that it’s 3am and no one should be outside at this hour.

It’s hypocritical, considering he ’s outside at this hour, one of the people adding unwanted noise to the night.

Granted, he’s quiet when he walks, when he watches. Even when he’s running, like he’s running now, taking advantage of the night to push his body to inhuman speeds, to truly feel his lungs burn as he struggles to take in breaths, to be outside without gloves on. He still has long sleeves, though.

He’s trying to be a regular guy, a regular neighbor. He knows he doesn’t exactly succeed, that his neighbors know he screams in his sleep. More often than not, he’s walking out in the middle of the night for a run. They must know there’s something off about him. He can’t be regular, can’t be normal, can’t go back to normal.

Because his normal died years ago. His normal is long fucking gone, and there are days he goes and explore Brooklyn and loses himself in the new buildings and the new pavements, and the everything he doesn’t recognize. When he’s lost, he feels the panic rising and no matter how many times Doctor Raynor has told him he can always use the GPS on his phone, he doesn’t think about it.

His normal died on June 15th, 1943, when the boat left the New York harbor and he shipped out to London. To the war. To die. Leaving Ma, Rebecca, Deborah, Astrid and Steve behind him. Leaving home.

He’d been young and foolish and he’d told himself every hour of that journey that he’d come home, that he’d be back, that he would see them again.

Ma died in 1963. Deborah in 1996. Astrid in 2018, right before the Snap. Rebecca’s still alive, in a retirement home in Indiana. Steve’s… Gone.

He should drink some water, but he doesn’t have any right now, as he makes himself come to a light jog. He just lets his throat burn, his body thirst. His mind cries.

His normal died a thousand times from June 15th, 1943 to October 30th, 2023, when Steve left.

How does one go back to normal when all there is to go back to is ash and gravestones ?

He could go see Rebecca. Doctor Raynor says it wouldn’t be a bad idea. That it would connect him back to reality. That it would stop him from living too much in the past. As if he wants to stop remembering his sister as 23 years old and smiling brightly, with her dark hair pinned in neat curls, young and innocent and with the same drive and recklessness as Steve.

Steve and her had been two peas in a pod. He’d fit into the family perfectly, from the day Bucky had first brought him home.

He doesn’t want to walk into the retirement home and see her, 103 years old, white-haired, heavy and old. Knowing her, she’d have her hair still neat and in curls. She loved that style. She’d hit him when he tried to touch her rollers.

He doesn’t want to lose those memories in the sake of connecting to the present. Some days, they feel like all he has anymore. Memories and a postcard from the Smithsonian gift shop, framed and put on the wall of his house. Steve’s smile. His own smile. It was war, yes, but they were happy, for one year, somewhat safer on the frontline than at home.

It’s 3am and he’s now walking on a Brooklyn street, and this one feels familiar, so he just keeps walking and keeps listening to his own heartbeat, to the way his breath hisses in and out of his lungs. He walks, and he’s sweaty and he knows he might ache tomorrow from pushing himself the way he just did, but that will be something, at least.

He should try and sleep through the nights. He’s on call, supposed to be ready to go whenever his superiors find a new Hydra safehouse they want him to clear. It’s a job he can do in his sleep, but it’s a job he’s supposed to not be completely exhausted for.

Fuck them, really. Fuck them and the looks they give him when he shows up looking like he hasn’t slept in days. Because he hasn’t . They should leave him the fuck alone, he’s done enough for them. As long as he does his job, they don’t get to judge how he looks doing it. They’re not his fucking girlfriend for fuck’s sake. He’s not even proper military anymore, so why do they give a fuck if his boots aren’t properly shined?

The street is empty and he feels like screaming, but he doesn’t. He’d wake people up. They’d stare at him. They’d call the fucking cops and he’d have to explain what he’s doing there, and Doctor Raynor would hear about it and so would the brass. Normal life is a chokehold.

He looks over at the sign with the street number on it. East 47th Street.

No wonder this one feels familiar.

He starts walking south despite himself, down the street to the corner he remembers the most. That’s where their shul used to be.

He walked that street many times when he was younger. In his nice Shabbos clothes, or his new Rosh Hashanah shoes, shiny and stiff, pulled down the street by his fasting mother, whining the entire way about the way the new leather made blisters bloom on his ankles.

Around any holiday of significance, the entire neighborhood would be singing and laughing. The tired baker would still shout ‘Gut Shabbos Frau Barasch’ to his mother when she came to leave the kugel in his oven before shabbos. It was funny, the Yiddish, the German ‘Madam’, the use of the Romanian form of their last name, as if they hadn’t changed it years ago when they’d made it to Ellis Island.

He’s walking that street now so much older and so much more tired. The baker’s been dead for decades, probably, he was older than his ma. He was nice to them, helped them out a lot. Especially once his da had passed. He’d slip them some cookies for shabbos. He smiled a lot.

Everyone smiled a lot, despite the struggle, despite the work. Candles were lit, and people danced. He remembers the baker singing and dancing at his son’s wedding, warm and proud.

Everything was golden back then. The challah, Steve’s hair, his mother’s smile, the light through the stained glass of the shul windows.

The building is still standing. He sees it from far away and his heart quickens. Hope, crazy foolish hope takes over his mind, his tired eyes. Perhaps there’s still a hint of his childhood standing. Perhaps he hasn’t lost everything.

It’s as beautiful as he remembers. It’s been taken care of. The bricks are relatively clean for a city dirty as New York. His eyes scan over the façade, and that’s when he reads the words on the sign over the door.

47th Street Baptist Church.

His nails dig in his palm, opening wounds, and it stings as much as the tears that sting his eyes.

It’s a church. His shul is a church. They’re gone. They’re all fucking gone.

Everything’s gone. Why is he still there? Why is he still standing? Why did they have to make him live?

He turns back around and starts to run again. He runs away from the absolutely violent pain in his chest as he sees ‘church’ written between two stars of David. He runs away from the anguish of being alone.

What else can he do but run?

This is exactly why he doesn’t want to see Rebecca, no matter how much he misses her.

He’s alone. He’s alive because Hydra didn’t let him die. They didn’t let him die in the factory, when he was feverish and coughing from pneumonia, when he fell off the fucking train, when he begged for them to kill him, when he got shot on a mission and they begrudingly patched him up enough so he could be punished for wasting their ressources.

Somehow, he makes it back home. His fingers ghost over the mezuzah at the front door, like they always do now. Like they always did, before. For a second, he’s just a boy touching the mezuzah at his door, and he brings his fingers to his lips to kiss them. His real fingers. At least that’s something he hasn’t lost, right?

The door slams too loud, he stumbles through the corridor to his bathroom. He’s sticky with sweat, and he should shower but what he does is reach for his sleeping pills.

He takes one, swallows it with barely enough water, and walks to his living room. He lays down on the floor and waits for the pill to start working. To let him fall into the dreamless void of medicated sleep.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

The Lost Girl (Part 2)

Summary: In the past, Raven and Pan run into two people Raven never thought she’d see again. In the present, Raven convinces the Heroes to allow her to help save Henry with a plan of her own.

Notes: wow the part two that no one asked for but i wrote anyways is here!!! I know no one reads ouat fanfics anymore but this story has been living rent free in my head for years so dammit i’m gonna write the thing. This is kinda filler-y but i’m gonna write the next part like now so (hopefully) it won’t be long before the next chappie is out

Warnings: Language probably. (See warnings for the whole story on the series masterlist page)

Word Count: 2.3k

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

“So you weren’t speaking metaphorically about the grave then?” Emma said. The six of them had made their way to a cliff high above the mermaid lagoon. At the very edge was a large rock, with the name “RAVEN” carved in messily. Just beneath her name were multiple rows of tally marks.

“Nope. After...everything with Pan, I ran away. Pan and the lost boys wouldn’t stop looking for me, so I needed to do something to get them off my back.”

“So you faked your own death?” Snow said, shock evident in your voice.

“I did what I had to do to survive. Pan thinks I’m dead, lost boys stop looking for me, I can hide until I figure out a way off the island.” Raven explained. 

“And Pan bought it? It was that simple?” Hook questioned. Unlike the others, he knew part of Raven’s history with Pan, so it was understandable why he was so hesitant to believe Pan would back down so easily.

“Well, I used a little magic, made it more believable. Besides, the point isn’t how I pulled it off. The point is I must’ve fucked up pretty bad in order to resort to faking my own death. And, I’ve been able to avoid getting caught in my lie for,” Raven looked back at the grave, pointing at the tally marks, “That many years.”

“Isn’t marking the years on your own gravestone a bit of a giveaway?” Regina walked towards the stone, tracing her fingers over the carvings. Raven assumed she was using magic to make sure the grave wasn’t a fake, and that it had indeed been sitting there for years.

“It would be. If I was the one who added the marks.” Raven paused before giving an explanation, “Some of the lost boys, the ones who still care about me, they come around every year or so and add a tally. It’s hard to keep track of the years in Neverland, so it’s probably off by a few years.”

“How long have you been here?” Emma asked. From the look on her face, Raven could tell how worried she was. If Raven had been stuck for so long, how long would it take for them to get Henry back?

“I have absolutely no idea. You don’t age on Neverland, plus time works so differently here. Two weeks here could be just a night back in the Enchanted Forest. That’s why it’s so hard to keep track.”

“Aye, the lass is right. I couldn’t tell you how many years my crew and I were stuck on the Roger here in Neverland.” Hook confirmed. This was now the second time in one day Hook had agreed with her on anything - An event that probably hadn’t been achieved since they were children. 

“Anyways. Clearly I’m not lying, so will you let me help you save the bo-” Emma’s glare cut Raven off, so she quickly corrected herself, “Henry. Let me pay back my debt to Bae?” The team of so-called-heroes all glanced at each other, no one wanting to be the first to admit that they needed Raven’s help. Unsurprisingly, Snow was the one to take the leap of faith.

“Of course. Help us find Henry, and we’ll take you back to Storybrooke with us.” Snow had a large smile on her face as she said the words, but only received a hint of a smile in return from Raven.

“Do you have any plans then? Or are you as useless as Hook?” Regina snapped, annoyed as always at any pleasantness from Snow.

“You guys got any rope?”

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

“What the hell are you doing?” Raven yelled across the beach. Pan was at the shoreline, staring out at the ocean. When he heard Raven’s voice, he turned and smiled, waving her over. Raven prepared to run across the hot sand, but paused, remembering the tricks Pan had begun to teach her. With only a moment's hesitation, she reached for the magic within her. Not a second later, she landed with a slight stumble next to Pan.

“Not terrible. For a girl, anyways.” Pan joked, not even flinching at her sudden appearance next to him.

“Shut up. What are we staring at the ocean for?” Raven asked, only seeing the calm sea ahead of them.

“Look up.” At Pan’s direction, she looked to the sky and, to her surprise, saw a ship flying down from the stars. It clearly belonged to some kind of Navy back in the Enchanted Forest, save for the large, feathery sail. 

“Interesting.” Raven said, taking a step closer to the ocean as the boat landed safely in the waters.

“Very.” Pan’s arm landed on her shoulder, causing Raven to look up at the boy. He was already looking down at her with a smirk ghosting his face. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we’ll be getting into today.”

~~~ Present Day ~~~

“A trap? That’s your plan?” Regina said, judgment evident in her voice. 

“The lost boys want to come after us, we need to go after them. It’s a good plan.” Snow replied as she diligently worked to make the net. 

“Glad to see someone appreciates it.” Raven mumbled, as she tied together her own piece of the net.

“Why not simply use magic to trap a lost boy? Or use magic to make the net, at least?” Regina said, glaring at Raven as she did so. 

“Well, Your Majesty, in case you haven’t noticed, Pan is extremely powerful. If we used magic to even make the net, let alone to actually trap a boy, he’d be able to detect it. And correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re actually trying to avoid that, right?” Raven said, meeting Regina’s glare with just as much ferocity.

“You really think a lost boy is gonna betray Pan?” Hook asked, taking another sip from his flask.

“I did.” Raven answered, looking back to her rope and away from Regina.

“David?” Snow ignored the bickering between everyone, addressing her husband with a softness not normally found in Neverland, “We need more vine.”

“On it.” He answered calmly, before addressing Hook with more anger than Raven thought he was actually capable of, “You’re coming with me pirate.”

Raven smirked as Hook sulked off after him, and continued to diligently work on tying the rope they had left.

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

“Are you two lost?” Pan asked, causing the two men who had landed on their shore to turn towards him, drawing their weapons. 

“Men.” Raven thought, rolling her eyes as she appeared behind them, without their knowledge of her presence.

“You look lost to me.” Pan said, smirking at both the men’s weapons and Raven’s appearance behind them. She could tell he was proud that she’d landed without a stumble this time, even if he’d never admit it. 

“Identify yourself, boy.” One of them asked, not taking his eyes off Pan. Raven felt a sense of familiarity at his voice, but she couldn’t place it. 

“I’m Peter Pan. I live here...Who are you?” Pan asked, without an ounce of respect that Raven was sure the soldiers would’ve been accustomed to. 

After deciding that Pan wasn’t a threat (A rather stupid decision, that Raven was sure the man would regret), He put his sword away, causing the other man to follow. “Captain Jones. And my Lieutenant. We’re here by order of the King.”

This caused Pan to raise his brows, and glance at Raven as subtly as he could. Even though she couldn't read his mind, he knew his thoughts were somewhere between disbelief and making fun of the soldiers. 

“The King huh?” Pan chuckled a little, before answering seriously, “We don’t have any kings in Neverland. Just me.”

“You mean I’m not the Queen of Neverland?” Raven took this moment as her chance to join the fun, causing the two men to once again draw their swords. They both had a look of shock on their faces, and neither seemed like they would actually harm her. Raven disappeared once more, and landed herself at Pan’s side this time before speaking again. “How disappointing.”

The men turned once more, but their swords were at their sides instead of in position to fight. “Impossible…” The Captain mumbled, staring at Raven with a look she wasn’t fond of. Now that she was looking at their faces, the pair did seem somewhat familiar. But it wasn’t until the Lieutenant spoke that she placed them. 

“Talia?” He asked, putting his sword away completely this time. He took a step forward, but both Raven and Pan took one back, with Pan’s arm now protectively pushing her behind him. Raven couldn’t address them, she couldn’t even look at them anymore. Has she really been on Neverland for so long? Long enough for her friends to grow up and become the leaders of their own ship?

“Get rid of them.” She said, looking only at Peter. He turned to look towards her, silently asking if she was alright. “Your Queen is bored.” She attempted to joke, but knew Pan would see right through it. So she simply used her magic to transport herself back to camp, where she would hopefully never have to look at her old friends again.

~~~

When Pan arrived back at the small camp, Raven immediately began questioning him about the encounter with Killian and Liam.

“What happened? Why are they here? Did they ask about me? Do they-” 

“Slow down, love, I only just got back.” Pan joked, chuckling a bit before he noticed the serious look on Raven’s face. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “They did ask about you, but I didn’t answer any of their questions. Figured that you could answer them yourself if you wanted to see them. As for why they’re here, well, turns out they work for a pretty ruthless King.”

“What do you mean?” Raven asked, stepping closer to Pan as a few lost boys walked past the two of them, not wanting them to overhear or interrupt the conversation. 

“Well, their king sent them after the dreamshade. Only he told them it was a medicine, not poison. So either this king is a complete idiot, or he’s merciless.” Pan said, before Felix came up to them to report to Pan about something. Most likely the damned heart he’d been searching for.

Raven’s thoughts were moving faster than the best ship in the realms, but she knew that she’d have to confront Liam and Killian about dreamshade. She hadn’t seen them in at least a decade, sure, but she knew Liam and Killian like the back of her hand. They’d never willingly bring a weapon so dangerous back to the Enchanted Forest, which meant they must be in the dark. They hadn’t believed Pan’s warning, but maybe they’d believe a childhood friend.

~~~ Present Day ~~~

“A sextant? And you’re telling us about this now?” Emma asked, shocked that Hook would keep something so important from them.

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Regina asked. Back when they were kids, Hook could barely tell a lie, but years of being a pirate had made him annoyingly hard to read.

“Oh, you don’t. But I’m not.” Raven scoffed at his answer, but no one took notice. Or, they simply all chose to ignore it. “This is the best hope yet we’ve had of an exit plan, and don’t forget we’re gonna need one.” He said, looking at the three women as David stood behind him, gathering supplies. Raven’s attention wasn’t on Hook, but instead David. 

He looked...off. Sure, she’d noticed that he didn’t seem entirely right the second she’d laid eyes on him, but it had only gotten worse. If Raven didn’t know any better, she’d say that he was suffering from a low dosage of dreamshade poison. The slight limp he had with every step, his heavier breathing, the ever-present sweat on his forehead...it all added up. But surely he’d have told his family, right? Said his goodbyes? Why was he trying so hard to act like everything was fine?

Raven didn’t pay attention to anything else Hook said, until David spoke up. “Hook’s right.”

“You wanna split up?” Snow asked, clearly shocked that David was willing to go along with any plan that involved him and Hook together. 

“It’s the last thing I wanna do, but if there’s a chance it can get us home….”

“I’ll come with you two.” Raven announced standing up from her seat on a tree stump and gathering her own supplies. Hook and David glanced at each other briefly, confirming Raven’s guess that there was something more to this trip. “Trust me, if you’re going to be capturing a lost boy, you don’t want me anywhere near. You want him focused on Henry, not his old friend that’s suddenly no-so-dead anymore.” Raven reasoned. The rest of the team seemed to accept the answer, although Hook still looked unconvinced. “Unless there’s some reason I should stay. Hook?” Raven asked, with a smirk on her face. She wanted him to know she was onto him.

“Course not. More the merrier.” Hook said, with a sarcastic smile. He turned and began walking away, and Raven followed, leaving David behind to say goodbyes to his family. Once they were a good distance away, Raven spoke.

“It’s dreamshade, isn’t it?” 

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Hook said, looking away from her.

“Please. You and I both know the effects of dreamshade far too well. So what are we gonna do about it?” Hook looked at Raven this time, with an unreadable look on his face. 

“What?”

“I’m surprised you want to do anything to help him.”

She scoffed, “Says the pirate.” Hook gave her a soft chuckle in return, before turning fully to face her.

“I told him the sextant is atop dead man’s peak.” He explained, allowing her to connect the dots.

“Oh. Oh. There’s not actually a-” 

“You two done gossiping, or can we get a move on?” David’s voice interrupted your hushed conversation, but the message Hook was trying to make had gotten across. This was a rescue mission for David, whether he knew it or not.

~~~

[ezatluba]

A dog tombstone

Dogs and cats became family—and got their shot at heaven—after World War II, gravestones reveal

David Grimm

Oct. 26, 2020

In 1896, a grieving woman showed up at the office of her Manhattan veterinarian with an unusual request: Her dog had just died, and she wanted to give it a proper burial. The sympathetic doc offered a spot in his apple orchard north of the city. Word caught on, and soon the vet was besieged with similar requests. Today, his former country retreat is the Hartsdale Pet Cemetery & Crematory, the first pet cemetery in the United States and the final resting place of more than 70,000 dogs, cats, and other animals.

A new study of more than 1000 pet gravestones reveals that since the time of that first burial, our relationship with our furry friends has changed dramatically, with many pets transforming from mere friends to full-fledged members of the family. Over time, pets were more likely to be memorialized with the family name, referred to as children, and even given figurative passage to heaven.

The study is “a valuable contribution,” says Philip Howell, a historical geographer at the University of Cambridge and an expert on the changing relationship between humans and animals. “I don’t know that anyone has tried to do something like this before.

Eric Tourigny had the idea of analyzing pet gravestones in 2014 while investigating the excavated remains of a mid–19th century house in downtown Toronto. The owners had buried a large dog in their backyard, and Tourigny, a zooarchaeologist at Newcastle University, began to wonder what pet graves could reveal about the changing status of dogs and cats in the home.

He turned to four of the largest pet cemeteries in the United Kingdom, including the country’s oldest, Hyde Park, which dates back to 1881. Then, Tourigny conducted what he says is the first systematic analysis of the writing and symbolism on pet tombstones, collecting data on 1169 grave markers from 1881 to 1991.

The proliferation of cemeteries themselves mark a turning point in our relationship with pets. Before then, many people “would throw the bodies in the river or the rubbish, or sell them for their skin or meat,” Tourigny says. Some owners also buried their pets in their backyards, as he had seen in Toronto. But few entertained the idea of internment in a dedicated public cemetery.

Tourigny chalks the shift up to Charles Darwin and other scientific luminaries of the time, whose writings put animals on more equal footing with humans. He also credits the growing sentimentality of the Victorian era, which made public displays of affection toward pets more acceptable.

The 1901 gravestone of a dog named Bobbit from the Hyde Park cemetery. The smaller text reads: “When our lonely lives are o’er and our spirits from this earth shall roam, we hope he’ll be there waiting to give us a welcome home.”

Yet early pet gravestones tended to be simple, often featuring just the pet’s name and a date. “Darling Fluff,” one reads. “Maude. An old friend,” another.

After World War II, however, Tourigny noticed some big changes. Gravestones began to denote owners as “Mummy” or “Dad.” “Here Lies My Darling Pixie, Mommy’s Little Angel,” reads a 1976 marker. And “Fluffy” became “Fluffy Smith,” as pets took on the family name.

Only three gravestones before 1910—less than 1% of those surveyed—referred to a pet as a family member. And only six used surnames, Tourigny reports today in Antiquity. But after the war, almost 20% of grave makers described pets as family, and 11% used surnames. He also noticed more cat graves as time went on.

The changes dovetail with the rising status of pets in society. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, dogs—and eventually cats—began to live indoors in large numbers in the United Kingdom and the United States, thanks to the advent of flea shampoo and kitty litter. Families grew smaller and more prosperous, giving them more time to dote on their animal companions. And pet food, toys, and medicine became more sophisticated, in some cases rivaling those available to humans. “There was a greater willingness to identify pets as one of the family,” says Howell, who has written a book about dogs in the Victorian United Kingdom.

Pets evolved spiritually, as well. In the 19th century, religious icons like Christian crosses and Jewish Stars of David are rarely seen on pet gravestones, and there is only a tentative suggestion that owners might reunite with their beloved companions in the afterlife. “Could I think we’d meet again,” reads one 1900 headstone from Hyde Park. Just a few decades later, however, cats and dogs seem able to cross the pearly gates. “God bless until we meet again,” reads the 1952 tombstone of a cat named Denny.

Before 1910, only six pet grave markers (about 1%) sported either a religious symbol or allusion to heaven, compared with 104—or nearly 20%—after World War II, Tourigny found. Before then, he says, “Just saying your animal is going to heaven would have been very controversial.”

Still, Howell says—given that the study covers only four pet graveyards in the United Kingdom—it’s unclear whether the findings apply elsewhere in Europe, much less the rest of the world, where attitudes about pets may vary dramatically.

Tourigny’s data end in the early 1990s, when the cemeteries he surveyed ran out of space and stopped accepting pets. But it seems our relationship with dogs and cats has only grown stronger since then—as graveyards once again reveal. In 2016, for the first time, New York made it legal for pets to be buried with their owners in human cemeteries. “Four-legged friends are family for many New Yorkers,” the state’s governor, Andrew Cuomo, said at the time. “Who are we to stand in the way if someone’s final wish includes spending eternity with them?”

[andersunmenschlich]

Episode 13: Alone

All right! Finally I've managed to make time for another episode.

The title is promising. But... uh. We're getting another person talking now. Yeah, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. Bad enough there were all those background characters hanging around the archive, now we're hearing other people direct? And on an episode with a title like this, too!

I'm annoyed. This isn't what I was looking forward to. And Naomi Herne doesn't strike me as particularly polite, either. What, may I ask, is wrong with tape recorders? I quite liked recording things on tape when I was growing up.

...Ooh, interesting.

Looks like they started off trying to do the recording on something a bit more up to date than a tape recorder, and it didn't work.

I like that. I like that very much.

And it's fascinating that the head archivist is taking her statement himself! "I can have it transcribed later"? How very odd. Why not just have her write it down? Isn't that what they've been doing for decades? And even now: the statement-givers write things down, the assistants research and verify, the archivist makes an audio recording and files everything neatly. At least, I got the impression that that's how it's supposed to be done. So what is this? Surely nothing could possibly have been confirmed yet—the statement hasn't even been given!

It's untidy. I don't like it. Naomi Herne shouldn't be talking to Jonathan Sims, it doesn't make sense. Shouldn't she be talking to the receptionist, what's the name... Rosie? Isn't Rosie the one who takes the statements in usually?

I feel like we're missing a buffer, and it's both unsettling and extremely interesting.

So.

Naomi Herne is here to tell the Magnus Institute about something that happened after her husband's funeral. And aha! Finally!

It's about time we learned when this podcast is happening. That's been niggling at me for twelve whole episodes now. "The date is the thirteenth of January, 2016." Awesome. So the first statement was transferred to tape at the end of 2015 or the beginning of 2016. I wonder how many they do a day, and whether they work weekends. It'd be pleasantly tidy if they recorded one statement to tape a day, every day. I'd like that.

Naomi Herne says the thing that happened was weird and inexplicable given her current knowledge of the world she lives in, and that she probably imagined the whole thing. Somehow I suspect she doesn't believe that at all, but would like to make herself believe it if she can.

...And Mr. Sims interrupts.

You know, I really don't like having more than one person here. It's an innovation I’m not particularly enjoying.

In any case, Jonathan Sims tries to leave, Naomi Herne wants him to stay... I don't understand either person here. Is there really a point to giving someone privacy while they make a statement that's going to be listened to and copied down and researched and so on by a whole team of people? What's the reasoning behind that thought? And, on the other hand, why would you not want to be alone?

Maybe it's growing up in a house with thirteen other people (nine siblings, two parents, two grandparents), but it seems to me that being alone is a rare and wonderful thing. You know I didn't even have my own bedroom until my late teens?

If someone is willing to leave you alone, in my opinion, you should be delighted.

Jonathan agrees to stay while Naomi gives her statement. Hopefully this won't lead to more conversation. I suppose we'll see.

Apparently Naomi Herne, like me, works at being a bit of a blender. Average, unnoticeable, overlooked—like the paint on a wall, something nobody really looks at or thinks about. A good choice if you want to get things done without being constantly interrupted by people wanting to chat or hang out or party or know what you're doing in a restricted area or who knows what all else.

Unlike me, however, she says she "did get a bit lonely sometimes," which I can't say I ever have. While it might seem useful to have friends as a sort of social camouflage, they're such a demanding form of camouflage that in practice it isn't actually worth it.

She says a Pastor David seemed worried about her comfort with her own company. Well, at least he was the only one.

Honestly, who worries about a thing like that?

[sarcastically] Ooh, it's not natural for people to live in isolation, humans are creatures of community by nature. Next I'll be hearing how I'm not human and don't really count as a person (again). Perhaps the definition of "human" ought to be expanded, hmm? Include some of those sentient, human-shaped beings who aren't, by nature, what people like Pastor David insist all humans are.

Well. Pastor David, according to Naomi Herne, was worried she might "get lost," whatever that means. Naomi says she thinks she knows what he meant by it—but for some reason she doesn't tell us! Inconsiderate. Eh, perhaps she'll do it later.

Naomi graduated from Leeds in 2013 with the highest possible honors degree in Chemistry.

I like chemistry. Seems like the closest you can get to alchemy in real life.

Anyway, she got a job as a science technician in Woking, near London, which is where she was applying for a better job—lab assistant in a biochemistry department at University College London—when she met someone named Evan, who was also applying for that job. Apparently she clicked with him. Got along with him so well, in fact, that she was happy to see him waiting for her outside the building after their interviews.

Of course, it couldn't stay this good. No. They had to start dating, and then living together, and then they got married, because everyone knows that's the natural progression when you actually get along with someone. No other flavors of relationship are valid (maybe not even possible).

Annoyance aside, Naomi Herne doesn't usually do relationships of this type. She says her past boyfriends left when they realized she wasn't all that thrilled about having them around, which seems like the polite thing to do, really.

This Evan, though, is basically her soulmate.

Despite the fact that he has a battalion of friends, and this ends up pulling her into having "what could perhaps be called a social life."

Doesn't sound particularly pleasant, but she says she didn't hate it, which I suppose I can almost see; it is easier to be around people when you have a trusted human buffer. And after Evan dies from a congenital heart problem, she stops hanging out with his friends and goes back to comfortably familiar solitude, which makes sense to me.

She did attend the funeral, though. It seems Evans had a very rich family, with their own personal mausoleum out at their mansion, Moorland House.

It was a very quiet funeral, and not a particularly friendly one.

Naomi says everyone there was wearing the same expression. Even the corpse. She doesn't say what expression specifically, though—just that it's hard and possibly angry. Oh, and finally we get a last name for her husband: he's Evan Lucas.

Huh.

They send her away to do the burial. That doesn't seem usual.

So she drives off in the pouring rain in the middle of a storm, which doesn't seem safe, and naturally enough she crashes.

It's not a melodramatic crash, though. She just plows off the road into a field and then sits there with her engine smoking and definitely not running, and realizes it's been five hours since she arrived at the Lucas place... oh, and she has no cell service (or GPS functionality) out there.

This means she has to walk. In the storm.

She gets so wet it wrecks her phone, which she finds infuriating, so she throws the useless thing onto the ground, where it breaks further, then bounces off the road and buries itself completely in the mud. She walks and walks and walks, crying and soaked through and very cold, until finally she collapses, at which point she notices that the rain has stopped and now she's surrounded by fog.

...Fog that seems to be following her. And gives her the feeling that it's malicious. And wants something from her. Well, now. That's interesting.

Uh.

And then she makes a point of saying there's no presence to it. Yeah, that makes no sense at all. Malice and desire aren't properties of nothingness! There has to be something present in order for it to want something from you.

"It made me feel utterly forsaken," she says, and in my experience it's always people who do that.

In any case, she gets up and starts to run down the road, hoping to reach the end. Instead she loses the path. It takes her a little while to notice that she's running on dirt and grass instead of tarmac. Once she does, she tries to backtrack, but can't find the road at all. So for some reason she decides to kneel down and check out the dirt, which is mist-damp but not rain-wet.

Ahaha, she went sideways, didn't she? This is delightful.

Whatever new dimension she's found herself in, it sounds most agreeable to me. No stars, no moon, no artificial lights, a night so dark you shouldn't be able to see—but you can. A shifting, slate-grey fog, skeletal trees, grass, dirt, old, abandoned gravestones....

If there were a sign saying "Stay, Wander Awhile," it couldn't be more welcoming than this.

In the center of the graveyard is a small chapel. According to Naomi Herne's description, "The top of its steeple was lost in the gloom and the windows were dark. There was stained glass in the windows, but without any light from inside I couldn't make out the design. Wrapped around the handles of the entrance was a sturdy iron chain."

At this point, for some reason, she starts shouting and screaming for help. I was prepared to be annoyed by this, but (wonder of wonders!) it's a sound-muffling fog. Oh, I like this place so much.

Naomi Herne, on the other hand....

This obnoxious individual continues yelling even after it's clear no one can hear her but herself, just to hear the noise. And then she goes looking for something to break a church window with because, inexplicably, she's decided being inside the church will keep the fog away from her. "Anything to get out of the fog"? Pardon me, Ms. Herne, but you're breaking a window, correct? It's just going to follow you in!

She also says "I was sure that eventually someone would find me," which isn't at all the impression I'm receiving from this dimension a step or two sideways from our own. Surely a place like this would keep you safe from everyone forever?

Whatever the case, she goes for a piece of stone that's fallen from one of the grave markers.

As she bends over to pick it up, though, she notices that the grave is empty. 

"The hole was neat, square and deep, as though ready for a burial. At the bottom was a coffin. It was open, and there was nothing inside. I backed away and almost fell into another open grave behind me. I started to look around the cemetery with increasing panic. Every grave was open, and they were all empty."

Ha. Well, it looks like someone missed the Rapture.

You know, if it weren't for the danger of being buried by sliding earth, I'd be tempted to climb into one of those empty coffins and take a bit of a nap.

—Oh. How prescient of me.

The fog starts pulling Naomi Herne, our statement giver, into that first grave. She says it began to weigh her down: "It coiled about me, its formless damp clung to me and began to drag me gently, slowly, towards the waiting pit."

Backing away, she slips on the damp ground and falls. Sliding towards the grave, she uses that heavy piece of stone as an anchor to keep herself out.

Hey, and she gets away! Well done, Naomi Herne.

Struggling to her feet, she suddenly notices that the chapel's doors are open now. The chain's just lying on the steps. Huh. Well, who or what did that? Hmm. Whatever the case, this looks like an invitation to me. But how inviting is the inside of this church? I practically grew up in churches, so they're as familiar to me as libraries (oh, all right: even more so). In my opinion, the least inviting church tends to be the one with the most worshipers in it.

Oh, but this church is very welcoming! It looks as though she's being invited to go deeper, further sideways, farther away from the world we know.

"Through that door, where the inside of the chapel should be, was a field. It was bathed in sickly moonlight, and the fog rolled close to the ground. It seemed to stretch for miles, and I knew that I could wander there for years, and never meet another."

Ahh, that's beautiful.

This is the kind of thing I take my midnight walks for. Hours alone in the mountains under the moon, while the wolves howl in the distance and the lights of the city fade....

Naomi Herne, however, doesn't seem drawn to it.

She turns away from the door—and nearly cries when she sees that beyond the graveyard's edge is that same field. You know, some people have all the luck and just don't appreciate it at all. Of course, I could be mistaken about this place. But I have the feeling a person wouldn't need to eat or sleep here; that physical needs would be optional. I could use that. I'm always acting as though I think they are, and then my body stops working properly. It's annoying.

Anyway, our statement-giver runs away from the field beyond the door and into the field beyond the cemetery.

It beats me why she's running.

Apparently this place doesn't see why she should run, either. "The fog seemed to be getting thicker, and moving through it was getting harder. It was like I was running against the wind, except the air was completely still. I could hardly breathe as I inhaled it."

Yes; that's because you're running. Slow down and everything should be perfectly fine.

Oh. How unexpected.

As Naomi Herne is running through this endless field in a world two steps to the side of our own, her dead husband's voice calls to her. "Turn left," he says. And she does.

Turning sharply to the left, she keeps on running. She runs out into the middle of a road in our world, and wham! gets hit by a car. "I remember a second of headlights, and then nothing until I woke up in the hospital."

...Wait. "I would suggest you leave the stone with us so we can study it"?

What stone?

Don't tell me she was running around carrying that heavy piece of headstone? Surely not. And then, what, whoever hit her decided to take the rock to the hospital as well? That doesn't make a great deal of sense. But I'm pretty sure that's the only stone that's been mentioned this entire statement which she could possibly have brought to the institute, so....

Mr. Sims suggests that Ms. Herne see a psychologist. Ms. Herne is offended. The tape recorder gets turned off.

See? There's a definite click when that happens. We'd know if Mr. Sims took a break to do research. ...Not that I've ever heard him recite any incantations either, though. Maybe it's his research assistants who can do the beholding spell.

They certainly seem uncannily good at getting their hands on information.

Whatever the case, Mr. Sims says research was done while the tape recorder was stopped. Evan Lucas died from heart failure 3-22-15 and his family handled the burial.

"All requests to the Lucas family for information or interviews have been very firmly rebuffed," which is impressive given how much data these archival assistants have been able to dig out of everybody else in the past twelve episodes. It's rare for people to refuse to talk to them, which I could put down to the use of some sort of magic—but won't, because I'm fairly certain I'm not magical and yet people are always telling me things about themselves even when I didn't ask.

Not that I'm not interested!

I'm always interested when a stranger comes up to me and strikes up a somewhat one-sided conversation which evolves into them telling me about their childhood, or fear of Alzheimer's so desperate they'd rather die than have their mind slip away from them, or why they decided to become whatever they are, or some such thing.

If I have to interact with people, well—I think listening to their deeply personal information is one of the best flavors of human interaction.

...Though I will admit that having people talk to me like this all the time has kind of confused my understanding of what things are supposed to be private.

In any case.

Naomi Herne got hit by a car at about one am March 31. The funeral was a week after the death, so that means Ms. Herne slipped sideways on the 29th, which means she was in that otherworld for a full day and change?

The person who hit her was named Michael Getty, and the place was "Wormshill in the Kent Downs," wherever that is. Her car was in a field five miles away.

She was concussed and dehydrated, but there's no mention of her having not eaten for a full day and then some, so either they're ignoring that or food really isn't necessary in fairyland. Though apparently liquids are, which is strange since she was surrounded by fog the whole time! Hmm. You don't think the moisture was coming from her own body, do you? Amplified, yes, enhanced somehow, but... the non-presence in the fog... it could have been her.

That would make a kind of sense.

You can't have things like malice or desire without something present to be malicious or desirous, yet she said "it wasn't as though there was another person there...." Yes, yes, that makes sense!

I hypothesize that, somehow, the part of Naomi Herne that likes being alone manifested semi-separately from the rest of her, sucking moisture from her body to surround her as a thick fog and guide her off at an other-dimensional angle into a world where she could be alone forever. The part of her that doesn't want to be alone was terrified by this, and that's why she ran.

That doesn't explain her dead husband's voice, though. What kind of solitary fairyland has the ghosts of other people in it?

Also, her husband had plenty of friends and was apparently just fine with people—I somehow doubt his heaven would look like that. So what the hey. I can't make sense of that at all.

Well. Back to Jonathan Sims.

Mr. Sims would like to dismiss the whole thing as a hallucination, but unfortunately for him, Naomi Herne was clutching a chunk of carved granite when Michael Getty hit her, and the unfortunate near-perpetrator of vehicular manslaughter apparently decided the woman and the rock were a set, so she was able to bring it to the Magnus Institute and show it to him.

It's got an engraved cross design, looks like it came off a headstone, and has one word on it that's probably from the marker: "Forgotten."

Jonathan Sims says it's going to artifact storage. You know, the Magnus Institute's artifact storage must be an interesting place full of some very weird things. I wouldn't half mind taking a look.

And the recording ends.

This is probably the last episode I'll be listening to for a while, since once I've got this piece of commentary saved in my Tumblr queue I'll need to box my laptop up and ship it across the country to myself. I've never moved my entire life quite this far before. It's proving to be a bit of an undertaking. Once I'm settled in, though, I want to come back to this.

The Magnus Archives is an excellent podcast. I very much want to hear more.

[silent-era-of-cinema]

Clara Gordon Bow (July 29, 1905 – September 27, 1965) was an American actress who rose to stardom in silent film during the 1920s and successfully made the transition to "talkies" in 1929. Her appearance as a plucky shopgirl in the film It brought her global fame and the nickname "The It Girl". Bow came to personify the Roaring Twenties and is described as its leading sex symbol.

Bow appeared in 46 silent films and 11 talkies, including hits such as Mantrap (1926), It (1927), and Wings (1927). She was named first box-office draw in 1928 and 1929 and second box-office draw in 1927 and 1930. Her presence in a motion picture was said to have ensured investors, by odds of almost two-to-one, a "safe return". At the apex of her stardom, she received more than 45,000 fan letters in a single month (January 1929).

Two years after marrying actor Rex Bell in 1931, Bow retired from acting and became a rancher in Nevada. Her final film, Hoop-La, was released in 1933. In September 1965, Bow died of a heart attack at the age of 60.

Bow was born in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn at 697 Bergen Street,[9] in a "bleak, sparsely furnished room above [a] dilapidated Baptist Church". Her birth year, according to the US Censuses of 1910 and 1920, was 1905. The 1930 census indicates 1906 and on her gravestone of 1965, the inscription says 1907, but 1905 is the accepted year by a majority of sources.

Bow was her parents' third child, but her two older sisters, born in 1903 and 1904, had died in infancy. Her mother, Sarah Frances Bow (née Gordon, 1880–1923), was told by a doctor not to become pregnant again, for fear the next baby might die as well. Despite the warning, Sarah became pregnant with Clara in late 1904. In addition to the risky pregnancy, a heat wave besieged New York in July 1905, and temperatures peaked around 100 °F (38 °C). Years later, Clara said: "I don't suppose two people ever looked death in the face more clearly than my mother and I the morning I was born. We were both given up, but somehow we struggled back to life."

Bow's parents were descended from English, Irish and Scottish immigrants who had come to America the generation before. Bow said that her father, Robert Walter Bow (1874–1959), "had a quick, keen mind ... all the natural qualifications to make something of himself, but didn't...everything seemed to go wrong for him, poor darling". By the time Clara was four and a half, her father was out of work, and between 1905 and 1923, the family lived at 14 different addresses, but seldom outside Prospect Heights, with Clara's father often absent. "I do not think my mother ever loved my father", she said. "He knew it. And it made him very unhappy, for he worshiped her, always."

When Bow's mother, Sarah, was 16, she fell from a second-story window and suffered a severe head injury. She was later diagnosed with "psychosis due to epilepsy". From her earliest years, Bow had learned how to care for her mother during the seizures, as well as how to deal with her psychotic and hostile episodes. She said her mother could be "mean" to her, but "didn't mean to ... she couldn't help it". Still, Bow felt deprived of her childhood; "As a kid I took care of my mother, she didn't take care of me". Sarah worsened gradually, and when she realized her daughter was set for a movie career, Bow's mother told her she "would be much better off dead". One night in February 1922, Bow awoke to a butcher knife held against her throat by her mother. Clara was able to fend off the attack, and locked her mother up. In the morning, Bow's mother had no recollection of the episode, and later she was committed to a sanatorium by Robert Bow.

Clara spoke about the incident later:

It was snowing. My mother and I were cold and hungry. We had been cold and hungry for days. We lay in each other's arms and cried and tried to keep warm. It grew worse and worse. So that night my mother—but I can't tell you about it. Only when I remember it, it seems to me I can't live.

According to Bow's biographer, David Stenn, Bow was raped by her father at age sixteen while her mother was institutionalized. On January 5, 1923, Sarah died at the age of 43 from her epilepsy. When relatives gathered for the funeral, Bow accused them of being "hypocrites", and became so angry that she even tried to jump into the grave.

Bow attended P.S. 111, P.S. 9, and P.S. 98.[13] As she grew up, she felt shy among other girls, who teased her for her worn-out clothes and "carrot-top" hair. She said about her childhood, "I never had any clothes. ... And lots of time didn't have anything to eat. We just lived, that's about all. Girls shunned me because I was so poorly dressed."

From first grade, Bow preferred the company of boys, stating, "I could lick any boy my size. My right arm was quite famous. My right arm was developed from pitching so much ... Once I hopped a ride on behind a big fire engine. I got a lot of credit from the gang for that."[15] A close friend, a younger boy who lived in her building, burned to death in her presence after an accident. In 1919, Bow enrolled in Bay Ridge High School for Girls. "I wore sweaters and old skirts...didn't want to be treated like a girl...there was one boy who had always been my pal... he kissed me... I wasn't sore. I didn't get indignant. I was horrified and hurt."

Bow's interest in sports and her physical abilities led her to plan for a career as an athletics instructor. She won five medals "at the cinder tracks" and credited her cousin Homer Baker – the national half-mile (c.800 m) champion (1913 and 1914) and 660-yard (c. 600 m) world-record holder – for being her trainer. The Bows and Bakers shared a house – still standing – at 33 Prospect Place in 1920.

In the early 1920s, roughly 50 million Americans—half the population at that time—attended the movies every week. As Bow grew into womanhood, her stature as a "boy" in her old gang became "impossible". She did not have any girlfriends, and school was a "heartache" and her home was "miserable." On the silver screen, however, she found consolation; "For the first time in my life I knew there was beauty in the world. For the first time I saw distant lands, serene, lovely homes, romance, nobility, glamor". And further; "I always had a queer feeling about actors and actresses on the screen ... I knew I would have done it differently. I couldn't analyze it, but I could always feel it.". "I'd go home and be a one girl circus, taking the parts of everyone I'd seen, living them before the glass." At 16, Bow says she "knew" she wanted to be a motion pictures actress, even if she was a "square, awkward, funny-faced kid."

Against her mother's wishes but with her father's support, Bow competed in Brewster publications' magazine's annual nationwide acting contest, "Fame and Fortune", in fall 1921. In previous years, other contest winners had found work in the movies. In the contest's final screen test, Bow was up against an already scene-experienced woman who did "a beautiful piece of acting". A set member later stated that when Bow did the scene, she actually became her character and "lived it". In the January issues 1922 of Motion Picture Classics, the contest jury, Howard Chandler Christy, Neysa McMein, and Harrison Fisher, concluded:

She is very young, only 16. But she is full of confidence, determination and ambition. She is endowed with a mentality far beyond her years. She has a genuine spark of divine fire. The five different screen tests she had, showed this very plainly, her emotional range of expression provoking a fine enthusiasm from every contest judge who saw the tests. She screens perfectly. Her personal appearance is almost enough to carry her to success without the aid of the brains she indubitably possesses.

Bow won an evening gown and a silver trophy, and the publisher committed to help her "gain a role in films", but nothing happened. Bow's father told her to "haunt" Brewster's office (located in Brooklyn) until they came up with something. "To get rid of me, or maybe they really meant to (give me) all the time and were just busy", Bow was introduced to director Christy Cabanne, who cast her in Beyond the Rainbow, produced late 1921 in New York City and released February 19, 1922. Bow did five scenes and impressed Cabanne with true theatrical tears, but was cut from the final print. "I was sick to my stomach," she recalled and thought her mother was right about the movie business.

Bow, who dropped out of school (senior year) after she was notified about winning the contest, possibly in October 1921, got an ordinary office job. However, movie ads and newspaper editorial comments from 1922 to 1923 suggest that Bow was not cut from Beyond the Rainbow. Her name is on the cast list among the other stars, usually tagged "Brewster magazine beauty contest winner" and sometimes even with a picture.

Encouraged by her father, Bow continued to visit studio agencies asking for parts. "But there was always something. I was too young, or too little, or too fat. Usually I was too fat." Eventually, director Elmer Clifton needed a tomboy for his movie Down to the Sea in Ships, saw Bow in Motion Picture Classic magazine, and sent for her. In an attempt to overcome her youthful looks, Bow put her hair up and arrived in a dress she "sneaked" from her mother. Clifton said she was too old, but broke into laughter as the stammering Bow made him believe she was the girl in the magazine. Clifton decided to bring Bow with him and offered her $35 a week. Bow held out for $50 and Clifton agreed, but he could not say whether she would "fit the part". Bow later learned that one of Brewsters' subeditors had urged Clifton to give her a chance.

Down to the Sea in Ships, shot on location in New Bedford, Massachusetts and produced by independent "The Whaling Film Corporation", documented life, love, and work in the whale-hunter community. The production relied on a few less-known actors and local talents. It premiered at the Olympia Theater in New Bedford, on September 25, and went on general distribution on March 4, 1923. Bow was billed 10th in the film, but shone through:

"Miss Bow will undoubtedly gain fame as a screen comedienne".

"She scored a tremendous hit in Down to the Sea in Ships..(and).. has reached the front rank of motion picture principal players".

"With her beauty, her brains, her personality and her genuine acting ability it should not be many moons before she enjoys stardom in the fullest sense of the word. You must see 'Down to the Sea in Ships'".

"In movie parlance, she 'stole' the picture ... ".

By mid-December 1923, primarily due to her merits in Down to the Sea in Ships, Bow was chosen the most successful of the 1924 WAMPAS Baby Stars. Three months before Down to the Sea in Ships was released, Bow danced half nude, on a table, uncredited in Enemies of Women (1923). In spring she got a part in The Daring Years (1923), where she befriended actress Mary Carr, who taught her how to use make-up.

In the summer, she got a "tomboy" part in Grit, a story that dealt with juvenile crime and was written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Bow met her first boyfriend, cameraman Arthur Jacobson, and she got to know director Frank Tuttle, with whom she worked in five later productions. Tuttle remembered:

Her emotions were close to the surface. She could cry on demand, opening the floodgate of tears almost as soon as I asked her to weep. She was dynamite, full of nervous energy and vitality and pitifully eager to please everyone.

Grit was released on January 7, 1924. The Variety review said "... Clara Bow lingers in the eye, long after the picture has gone."

While shooting Grit at Pyramid Studios, in Astoria, New York, Bow was approached by Jack Bachman of independent Hollywood studio Preferred Pictures. He wanted to contract her for a three-month trial, fare paid, and $50 a week. "It can't do any harm,"[15] he tried. "Why can't I stay in New York and make movies?" Bow asked her father, but he told her not to worry.

On July 21, 1923, she befriended Louella Parsons, who interviewed her for The New York Morning Telegraph. In 1931, when Bow came under tabloid scrutiny, Parsons defended her and stuck to her first opinion on Bow:

She is as refreshingly unaffected as if she had never faced a means to pretend. She hasn't any secrets from the world, she trusts everyone ... she is almost too good to be true ... (I) only wish some reformer who believes the screen contaminates all who associate with it could meet this child. Still, on second thought it might not be safe: Clara uses a dangerous pair of eyes.

The interview also revealed that Bow already was cast in Maytime and in great favor of Chinese cuisine.

On July 22, 1923, Bow left New York, her father, and her boyfriend behind for Hollywood. As chaperone for the journey and her subsequent southern California stay, the studio appointed writer/agent Maxine Alton, whom Bow later branded a liar. In late July, Bow entered studio chief B. P. Schulberg's office wearing a simple high-school uniform in which she "had won several gold medals on the cinder track". She was tested and a press release from early August says Bow had become a member of Preferred Picture's "permanent stock". Alton and she rented an apartment at The Hillview near Hollywood Boulevard. Preferred Pictures was run by Schulberg, who had started as a publicity manager at Famous Players-Lasky, but in the aftermath of the power struggle around the formation of United Artists, ended up on the losing side and lost his job. As a result, he founded Preferred in 1919, at the age of 27.

Maytime was Bow's first Hollywood picture, an adaptation of the popular operetta Maytime in which she essayed "Alice Tremaine". Before Maytime was finished, Schulberg announced that Bow was given the lead in the studio's biggest seasonal assessment, Poisoned Paradise,[51] but first she was lent to First National Pictures to co-star in the adaptation of Gertrude Atherton's 1923 best seller Black Oxen, shot in October, and to co-star with Colleen Moore in Painted People, shot in November.

Director Frank Lloyd was casting for the part of high-society flapper Janet Oglethorpe, and more than 50 women, most with previous screen experience, auditioned. Bow reminisced: "He had not found exactly what he wanted and finally somebody suggested me to him. When I came into his office a big smile came over his face and he looked just tickled to death." Lloyd told the press, "Bow is the personification of the ideal aristocratic flapper, mischievous, pretty, aggressive, quick-tempered and deeply sentimental." It was released on January 4, 1924.

The New York Times said, "The flapper, impersonated by a young actress, Clara Bow, had five speaking titles, and every one of them was so entirely in accord with the character and the mood of the scene that it drew a laugh from what, in film circles, is termed a "hard-boiled" audience", while the Los Angeles Times commented that "Clara Bow, the prize vulgarian of the lot ... was amusing and spirited ... but didn't belong in the picture", and Variety said that "... the horrid little flapper is adorably played ..."

Colleen Moore made her flapper debut in a successful adaptation of the daring novel Flaming Youth, released November 12, 1923, six weeks before Black Oxen. Both films were produced by First National Pictures, and while Black Oxen was still being edited and Flaming Youth not yet released, Bow was requested to co-star with Moore as her kid sister in Painted People (The Swamp Angel). Moore essayed the baseball-playing tomboy and Bow, according to Moore, said "I don't like my part, I wanna play yours." Moore, a well-established star earning $1200 a week—Bow got $200—took offense and blocked the director from shooting close-ups of Bow. Moore was married to the film's producer and Bow's protests were futile. "I'll get that bitch", she told her boyfriend Jacobson, who had arrived from New York. Bow had sinus problems and decided to have them attended to that very evening. With Bow's face now in bandages, the studio had no choice but to recast her part.

During 1924, Bow's "horrid" flapper raced against Moore's "whimsical". In May, Moore renewed her efforts in The Perfect Flapper, produced by her husband. However, despite good reviews, she suddenly withdrew. "No more flappers ... they have served their purpose ... people are tired of soda-pop love affairs", she told the Los Angeles Times, which had commented a month earlier, "Clara Bow is the one outstanding type. She has almost immediately been elected for all the recent flapper parts". In November 1933, looking back to this period of her career, Bow described the atmosphere in Hollywood as like a scene from a movie about the French Revolution, where "women are hollering and waving pitchforks twice as violently as any of the guys ... the only ladies in sight are the ones getting their heads cut off."

By New Year 1924, Bow defied the possessive Maxine Alton and brought her father to Hollywood. Bow remembered their reunion: "I didn't care a rap, for (Maxine Alton), or B. P. Schulberg, or my motion picture career, or Clara Bow, I just threw myself into his arms and kissed and kissed him, and we both cried like a couple of fool kids. Oh, it was wonderful." Bow felt Alton had misused her trust: "She wanted to keep a hold on me so she made me think I wasn't getting over and that nothing but her clever management kept me going." Bow and her father moved in at 1714 North Kingsley Drive in Hollywood, together with Jacobson, who by then also worked for Preferred. When Schulberg learned of this arrangement, he fired Jacobson for potentially getting "his big star" into a scandal. When Bow found out, "She tore up her contract and threw it in his face and told him he couldn't run her private life." Jacobson concluded, "[Clara] was the sweetest girl in the world, but you didn't cross her and you didn't do her wrong." On September 7, 1924, The Los Angeles Times, in a significant article "A dangerous little devil is Clara, impish, appealing, but oh, how she can act!", her father is titled "business manager" and Jacobson referred to as her brother.

Bow appeared in eight releases in 1924.

In Poisoned Paradise, released on February 29, 1924, Bow got her first lead. "... the clever little newcomer whose work wins fresh recommendations with every new picture in which she appears". In a scene described as "original", Bow adds "devices" to "the modern flapper": she fights a villain using her fists, and significantly, does not "shrink back in fear".

In Daughters of Pleasure, also released on February 29, 1924, Bow and Marie Prevost "flapped unhampered as flappers De luxe ... I wish somebody could star Clara Bow. I'm sure her 'infinite variety' would keep her from wearying us no matter how many scenes she was in."

Loaned out to Universal, Bow top-starred, for the first time, in the prohibition, bootleg drama/comedy Wine, released on August 20, 1924. The picture exposes the widespread liquor traffic in the upper classes, and Bow portrays an innocent girl who develops into a wild "red-hot mama".

"If not taken as information, it is cracking good entertainment," Carl Sandburg reviewed September 29.

"Don't miss Wine. It's a thoroughly refreshing draught ... there are only about five actresses who give me a real thrill on the screen—and Clara is nearly five of them".

Alma Whitaker of The Los Angeles Times observed on September 7, 1924:

She radiates sex appeal tempered with an impish sense of humor ... She hennas her blond hair so that it will photograph dark in the pictures ... Her social decorum is of that natural, good-natured, pleasantly informal kind ... She can act on or off the screen—takes a joyous delight in accepting a challenge to vamp any selected male—the more unpromising specimen the better. When the hapless victim is scared into speechlessness, she gurgles with naughty delight and tries another.

Bow remembered: "All this time I was 'running wild', I guess, in the sense of trying to have a good time ... maybe this was a good thing, because I suppose a lot of that excitement, that joy of life, got onto the screen."

In 1925, Bow appeared in 14 productions: six for her contract owner, Preferred Pictures, and eight as an "out-loan".

"Clara Bow ... shows alarming symptoms of becoming the sensation of the year ... ", Motion Picture Classic Magazine wrote in June, and featured her on the cover.

I'm almost never satisfied with myself or my work or anything...by the time I'm ready to be a great star I'll have been on the screen such a long time that everybody will be tired of seeing me...(Tears filled her big round eyes and threatened to fall).

I worked in two and even three pictures at once. I played all sorts of parts in all sorts of pictures ... It was very hard at the time and I used to be worn out and cry myself to sleep from sheer fatigue after 18 hours a day on different sets, but now [late 1927] I am glad of it.

Preferred Pictures loaned Bow to producers "for sums ranging from $1500 to $2000 a week" while paying Bow a salary of $200 to $750 a week. The studio, like any other independent studio or theater at that time, was under attack from "The Big Three", MPAA, which had formed a trust to block out Independents and enforce the monopolistic studio system. On October 21, 1925, Schulberg filed Preferred Pictures for bankruptcy, with debts at $820,774 and assets $1,420. Three days later, it was announced that Schulberg would join with Adolph Zukor to become associate producer of Paramount Pictures, "catapulted into this position because he had Clara Bow under personal contract".

Adolph Zukor, Paramount Picture CEO, wrote in his memoirs: "All the skill of directors and all the booming of press-agent drums will not make a star. Only the audiences can do it. We study audience reactions with great care." Adela Rogers St. Johns had a different take: in 1950, she wrote, "If ever a star was made by public demand, it was Clara Bow." And Louise Brooks (from 1980): "(Bow) became a star without nobody's help ..."

The Plastic Age was Bow's final effort for Preferred Pictures and her biggest hit up to that time. Bow starred as the good-bad college girl, Cynthia Day, against Donald Keith. It was shot on location at Pomona College in the summer of 1925, and released on December 15, but due to block booking, it was not shown in New York until July 21, 1926.

Photoplay was displeased: "The college atmosphere is implausible and Clara Bow is not our idea of a college girl."

Theater owners, however, were happy: "The picture is the biggest sensation we ever had in our theater ... It is 100 per cent at the box-office."

Some critics felt Bow had conquered new territory: "(Bow) presents a whimsical touch to her work that adds greater laurels to her fast ascending star of screen popularity."

Time singled out Bow: "Only the amusing and facile acting of Clara Bow rescues the picture from the limbo of the impossible."

Bow began to date her co-star Gilbert Roland, who became her first fiancé. In June 1925, Bow was credited for being the first to wear hand-painted legs in public, and was reported to have many followers at the Californian beaches.

Throughout the 1920s, Bow played with gender conventions and sexuality in her public image. Along with her tomboy and flapper roles, she starred in boxing films and posed for promotional photographs as a boxer. By appropriating traditionally androgynous or masculine traits, Bow presented herself as a confident, modern woman.

"Rehearsals sap my pep," Bow explained in November 1929, and from the beginning of her career, she relied on immediate direction: "Tell me what I have to do and I'll do it." Bow was keen on poetry and music, but according to Rogers St. Johns, her attention span did not allow her to appreciate novels. Bow's focal point was the scene, and her creativity made directors call in extra cameras to cover her spontaneous actions, rather than holding her down.

Years after Bow left Hollywood, director Victor Fleming compared Bow to a Stradivarius violin: "Touch her, and she responded with genius." Director William Wellman was less poetic: "Movie stardom isn't acting ability—it's personality and temperament ... I once directed Clara Bow (Wings). She was mad and crazy, but WHAT a personality!". And in 1981, Budd Schulberg described Bow as "an easy winner of the dumbbell award" who "couldn't act," and compared her to a puppy that his father B. P. Schulberg "trained to become Lassie."

In 1926, Bow appeared in eight releases: five for Paramount, including the film version of the musical Kid Boots with Eddie Cantor, and three loan-outs that had been filmed in 1925.

In late 1925, Bow returned to New York to co-star in the Ibsenesque drama Dancing Mothers, as the good/bad "flapperish" upper-class daughter Kittens. Alice Joyce starred as her dancing mother, with Conway Tearle as "bad-boy" Naughton. The picture was released on March 1, 1926.

"Clara Bow, known as the screen's perfect flapper, does her stuff as the child, and does it well."

"... her remarkable performance in Dancing Mothers ... ".

Louise Brooks remembered: "She was absolutely sensational in the United States ... in Dancing Mothers ... she just swept the country ... I know I saw her ... and I thought ... wonderful."

On April 12, 1926, Bow signed her first contract with Paramount: "...to retain your services as an actress for the period of six months from June 6, 1926 to December 6, 1926, at a salary of $750.00 per week...".

In Victor Fleming's comedy-triangle, Mantrap, Bow, as Alverna the manicurist, cures lonely hearts Joe Easter (Ernest Torrence), of the great northern, as well as pill-popping New York divorce attorney runaway Ralph Prescott (Percy Marmont). Bow commented: "(Alverna)...was bad in the book, but—darn it!—of course, they couldn't make her that way in the picture. So I played her as a flirt." The film was released on July 24, 1926.

Variety: "Clara Bow just walks away with the picture from the moment she walks into camera range."

Photoplay: "When she is on the screen nothing else matters. When she is off, the same is true."

Carl Sandburg: "The smartest and swiftest work as yet seen from Miss Clara Bow."

The Reel Journal: "Clara Bow is taking the place of Gloria Swanson...(and)...filling a long need for a popular taste movie actress."

On August 16, 1926, Bow's agreement with Paramount was renewed into a five-year deal: "Her salary will start at $1700 a week and advance yearly to $4000 a week for the last year."[78] Bow added that she intended to leave the motion picture business at the expiration of the contract, i.e., in 1931.

In 1927, Bow appeared in six Paramount releases: It, Children of Divorce, Rough House Rosie, Wings, Hula and Get Your Man. In the Cinderella story It, the poor shop-girl Betty Lou Spence (Bow) conquers the heart of her employer Cyrus Waltham (Antonio Moreno). The personal quality —"It"— provides the magic to make it happen. The film gave Bow her nickname, "The 'It' Girl."

The New York Times: "(Bow)...is vivacious and, as Betty Lou, saucy, which perhaps is one of the ingredients of It."

The Film Daily: "Clara Bow gets a real chance and carries it off with honors...(and)...she is really the whole show."

Carl Sandburg: "'It' is smart, funny and real. It makes a full-sized star of Clara Bow."

Variety: "You can't get away from this Clara Bow girl. She certainly has that certain 'It'...and she just runs away with the film."

Dorothy Parker is often said to have referred to Bow when she wrote, "It, hell; she had Those."[109] Parker in actuality was not referring to Bow or to Bow's character in the film It, but to a different character, Ava Cleveland, in the novel of the same name.

In 1927, Bow starred in Wings, a war picture rewritten to accommodate her, as she was Paramount's biggest star, but was not happy about her part: "[Wings is]...a man's picture and I'm just the whipped cream on top of the pie." The film went on to win the first Academy Award for Best Picture. In 1928, Bow appeared in four Paramount releases: Red Hair, Ladies of the Mob, The Fleet's In, and Three Weekends, all of which are lost.

Adela Rogers St. Johns, a noted screenwriter who had done a number of pictures with Bow, wrote about her:

There seems to be no pattern, no purpose to her life. She swings from one emotion to another, but she gains nothing, stores up nothing for the future. She lives entirely in the present, not even for today, but in the moment. Clara is the total nonconformist. What she wants she gets, if she can. What she desires to do she does. She has a big heart, a remarkable brain, and the most utter contempt for the world in general. Time doesn't exist for her, except that she thinks it will stop tomorrow. She has real courage, because she lives boldly. Who are we, after all, to say she is wrong?

Bow's bohemian lifestyle and "dreadful" manners were considered reminders of the Hollywood elite's uneasy position in high society. Bow fumed: "They yell at me to be dignified. But what are the dignified people like? The people who are held up as examples for me? They are snobs. Frightful snobs ... I'm a curiosity in Hollywood. I'm a big freak, because I'm myself!"

MGM executive Paul Bern said Bow was "the greatest emotional actress on the screen", "sentimental, simple, childish and sweet," and considered her "hard-boiled attitude" a "defense mechanism".

With "talkies" The Wild Party, Dangerous Curves, and The Saturday Night Kid, all released in 1929, Bow kept her position as the top box-office draw and queen of Hollywood.

Neither the quality of Bow's voice nor her Brooklyn accent was an issue to Bow, her fans, or Paramount. However, Bow, like Charlie Chaplin, Louise Brooks, and most other silent film stars, did not embrace the novelty: "I hate talkies ... they're stiff and limiting. You lose a lot of your cuteness, because there's no chance for action, and action is the most important thing to me." A visibly nervous Bow had to do a number of retakes in The Wild Party because her eyes kept wandering up to the microphone overhead. "I can't buck progress .. I have to do the best I can," she said. In October 1929, Bow described her nerves as "all shot", saying that she had reached "the breaking point", and Photoplay cited reports of "rows of bottles of sedatives" by her bed.

According to the 1930 census, Bow lived at 512 Bedford Drive, together with her secretary and hairdresser, Daisy DeBoe (later DeVoe), in a house valued $25,000 with neighbors titled "Horse-keeper", "Physician", "Builder". Bow stated she was 23 years old, i.e., born 1906, contradicting the censuses of 1910 and 1920.

"Now they're having me sing. I sort of half-sing, half-talk, with hips-and-eye stuff. You know what I mean—like Maurice Chevalier. I used to sing at home and people would say, 'Pipe down! You're terrible!' But the studio thinks my voice is great."

With Paramount on Parade, True to the Navy, Love Among the Millionaires, and Her Wedding Night, Bow was second at the box-office only to Joan Crawford in 1930. With No Limit and Kick In, Bow held the position as fifth at box-office in 1931, but the pressures of fame, public scandals, overwork, and a damaging court trial charging her secretary Daisy DeVoe with financial mismanagement, took their toll on Bow's fragile emotional health. As she slipped closer to a major breakdown, her manager, B.P. Schulberg, began referring to her as "Crisis-a-day-Clara". In April, Bow was brought to a sanatorium, and at her request, Paramount released her from her final undertaking: City Streets (1931). At 25, her career was essentially over.

B.P. Schulberg tried to replace Bow with his girlfriend Sylvia Sidney, but Paramount went into receivership, lost its position as the biggest studio (to MGM), and fired Schulberg. David Selznick explained:

...[when] Bow was at her height in pictures we could make a story with her in it and gross a million and a half, where another actress would gross half a million in the same picture and with the same cast.

Bow left Hollywood for Rex Bell's ranch in Nevada, her "desert paradise", in June[120] and married him in then small-town Las Vegas in December. In an interview on December 17, Bow detailed her way back to health: sleep, exercise, and food, and the day after[122] she returned to Hollywood "for the sole purpose of making enough money to be able to stay out of it."

Soon, every studio in Hollywood (except Paramount) and even overseas wanted her services. Mary Pickford stated that Bow "was a very great actress" and wanted her to play her sister in Secrets (1933), Howard Hughes offered her a three-picture deal, and MGM wanted her to star in Red-Headed Woman (1932). Bow agreed to the script, but eventually rejected the offer since Irving Thalberg required her to sign a long-term contract.

On April 28, 1932, Bow signed a two-picture deal with Fox Film Corporation, for Call Her Savage (1932) and Hoop-La (1933). Both were successful; Variety favored the latter. The October 1934, Family Circle Film Guide rated the film as "pretty good entertainment", and of Miss Bow said: "This is the most acceptable bit of talkie acting Miss Bow has done." However, they noted, "Miss Bow is presented in her dancing duds as often as possible, and her dancing duds wouldn't weigh two pounds soaking wet." Bow commented on her revealing costume in Hoop-La: "Rex accused me of enjoying showing myself off. Then I got a little sore. He knew darn well I was doing it because we could use a little money these days. Who can't?"

Bow reflected on her career:

My life in Hollywood contained plenty of uproar. I'm sorry for a lot of it but not awfully sorry. I never did anything to hurt anyone else. I made a place for myself on the screen and you can't do that by being Mrs. Alcott's idea of a Little Woman.

Bow and actor Rex Bell (later a lieutenant governor of Nevada) had two sons, Tony Beldam (born 1934, changed name to Rex Anthony Bell, Jr., died July 8, 2011) and George Beldam, Jr. (born 1938). Bow retired from acting in 1933. In September 1937, she and Bell opened The 'It' Cafe in the Hollywood Plaza Hotel at 1637 N Vine Street near Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles. It closed in 1943. Her last public performance, albeit fleeting, came in 1947 on the radio show Truth or Consequences. Bow was the mystery voice in the show's "Mrs. Hush" contest.

Bow eventually began showing symptoms of psychiatric illness. She became socially withdrawn, and although she refused to socialize with her husband, she also refused to let him leave the house alone. In 1944, while Bell was running for the U.S. House of Representatives, Bow tried to commit suicide. A note was found in which Bow stated she preferred death to a public life.

In 1949, she checked into the Institute of Living to be treated for her chronic insomnia and diffuse abdominal pains. Shock treatment was tried and numerous psychological tests performed. Bow's IQ was measured "bright normal", while others claimed she was unable to reason, had poor judgment and displayed inappropriate or even bizarre behavior. Her pains were considered delusional and she was diagnosed with schizophrenia; however, she experienced neither auditory nor visual hallucinations. Analysts tied the onset of the illness, as well as her insomnia, to the "butcher knife episode" back in 1922, but Bow rejected psychological explanations and left the Institute. She did not return to her family. After leaving the institution, Bow lived alone in a bungalow, which she rarely left, until her death.

Bow spent her last years in Culver City, under the constant care of a nurse, Estalla Smith, living off an estate worth about $500,000 at the time of her death. In 1965, at age 60, she died of a heart attack, which was attributed to atherosclerosis discovered in an autopsy. She was interred in the Freedom Mausoleum, Sanctuary of Heritage at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California. Her pallbearers were Harry Richman, Richard Arlen, Jack Oakie, Maxie Rosenbloom, Jack Dempsey, and Buddy Rogers.

[saiilorstars]

Rise Up

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Story Summary: Her focus has always been to graduate and stabilize her job - no where in there did that include becoming a metahuman. Left with a side Belén fears, she tries to make a life with Star Labs and Barry Allen. Despite the darkness, the secrets and the fear driving she and Barry apart, it never lasts…because in the end: “There can never be another. It had to be you,” they say to each other.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Belén‘s face claim: Lauren Conrad.

"Now Miss…?"

"Belén Palayta," the woman pushed back some of her ombre-blonde hair and did her best to keep eye contact with the older woman sitting across her. However that proved difficult as she blinked rapidly and shifted every second or so in her seat.

The older woman, a professional, jotted down what she saw without remarking. "Your friend Nina referred you to me, and I promise you I can be your utmost confidant in anything you want. If it helps-" she leaned forwards and talked in a hushed tone as if her office was open for all to hear, "-I also know Nina has these powers. She says you relate to it as well."

Belén knew her friend, Nina Clarke, would never reveal her identity to anyone. But if Nina had given the slip that she had powers - without sharing what sort of powers - Belén trusted the professional psychologist even more.

"I do," Belén nodded and once more shifted to cross her other leg instead.

"Well, where would you like to start?"

Belén looked down for a minute, and while she didn't say anything for some minutes, the psychologist jotted down the emotions across Belén's face.

"I lost...everything," Belén said after a full five minutes of silence. Teary eyed, she looked up to the waiting psychologist. "Is that possible? For someone to lose everything?"

"In central city?" the psychologist smiled. "Yes."

Belén swallowed hard. "I lost my dad, a year ago, he was murdered. And then...and then a month ago...my brother passed away. The next day my sister went to jail." She nervously played with one of her curls. "That same day my boyfriend broke up with me. Um, and...and I ended up...alone." She blinked tears away and looked at back at the psychologist. "Well...not completely alone, I guess. I became the legal guardian for my sister's four year old son. Thing is, I can't keep him unless I get out of this…" she made a gesture with her hand, "...funk, as one of my friends says it to be."

"So, is that why you're here?" the psychologist inquired. "To keep your nephew's custody?"

Belén thought about it, she truly thought about it, and in the end she gave a shake of her head. "I want to get better. I want to  be  better. I'm tired of feeling like this. I deserve better...so I'm going to get better."

~0~

6 months later.

"Iris! Iris!" Four year old Axel Palayta-Meyer let the entire Central City police department hear his calls for his favorite babysitter.

Behind him was his aunt, Belén Palayta, who was trying to keep up with him while actively shushing him. Axel knew where to go and ran into the officers' desks where, effectively, he found Iris West conversing with her father, Joe West, and their friend, Cisco Ramon.

"Iris!"

Iris stopped talking with Joe and Cisco to greet the newcomer. "Axel!" she laughed as he threw his arms around her waist for hug.

Belén came rushing in a second later, her hand struggling to keep her purse's strap from falling off her arm. "I'm so sorry! He just gets so excited - I...I don't know." Although it had been 6 months since she gained Axel's custody, she was still struggling to keep up with the boy 24/7 while also balancing her jobs and...her powers.

Everyone else knew that too. So when they could help, they would.

Iris took Axel's hand and looked down at the boy. "Well we are going to have a very fun day, aren't we Axel?"

"Yes!" the boy cheered.

"Thank you so much for looking after him while I, uh…" Belén gave a gesture with her finger tapping the side of her head. They knew she had opted to start therapy sessions for her benefit.

"It's fine," Iris assured.

"Nina was supposed to babysit but she got stuck at the hospital, so-"

"Belén, it's really okay," Iris chuckled.

"Hey Bells, were you by any chance thinking of, uh, going to tomorrow's rally…?" Cisco trudged along very carefully while asking the question.

"Um…" Belén thought for a moment, "...you know, at first I was a bit iffy about it, considering I am technically the Flash's ex…"

The other three exchanged disappointed glances, no one had agreed with the sudden decision Barry had taken regarding his relationship with Belén. They just didn't understand. For a while, neither had Belén.

"But then I realized that this rally isn't just for him, it's for all of you," Belén finished with a genuine smile. "It's for you, Cisco, Iris, Joe, professor Stein, Ronnie, Caitlin...all of you."

"And you," Iris pointed but Belén shook her head.

"All I did was finish my family," she said bitterly. "But to answer your question, Cisco, I will go."

"Good, so that makes everyone except Barry," Joe shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Belén looked at him, confused.

"Barry doesn't want to go. And it worries me…"

"But...he's gonna get the key to the city..."

Joe shrugged, looking pretty dejected they had yet to convince Barry to change his mind. "Well, you know Barry. The more we try to convince him to do something, the less he's gonna want to do it."

"I thought I knew him," Belén responded quietly. When she realized she had tarnished the mood she ventured to change the topic. "You guys are coming to my show tomorrow night, right?"

"Front row seats, baby!" Cisco high fived her and laughed with her.

"You know we'll be there too," Iris nodded her head as did Joe.

"Isn't it a bit weird though?" Joe asked, looking pretty confused as he explained better his question. "I mean, this is a tribute to...the Azalea...who's believed to be dead...and you're the lead?"

Belén agreed it completely was weird, and highly ironic.

~0~

"So, the city still thinks I'm dead - well, not this me-me, but...the Azalea me," Belén was sat once again on a in chair across her confidant psychologist, Dr. Baeva. "And they decided to go through with their idea to honor her," Belén laughed, "They think I died helping the Flash save the city. Ironic."

Dr. Baeva stared at her patient with an emotionless face, as was her custom. She often reminded that she was there to help Belén feel better about herself, despite whatever decision Belén took regarding her other identity. "And...do you ever consider of correcting the city? The Azalea survived."

Belén's smile faded at the question. "I mean...what would be the point? Barry decided that he would rather work alone in all aspects. He doesn't need Belén nor the Azalea anymore."

"Okay," Dr. Baeva nodded, acknowledging Belén's answer. "But, what do you think the Azalea should be? Dead? Alive?"

Belén knew what the woman was trying to get her to see. She had often been told she based far too many of her decisions on other people, primarily on Barry. She supposed it had to do with the fact that as she lost people, Barry was there to be her rock. She had become dependent on him, and she - as Dr. Baeva noted - still depended on him after their break up. When the Azalea was pronounced dead, Belén was shocked but also understood that after a while of not seeing her, the city would come up with its own conclusions: the Azalea died on the day of the black hole. At first, Belén was mortified to see that the person she had actually loved to be was no longer going to be remembered. It was then that she decided to delve into her own work to forget about it, push it away and act like it just never existed in the first place.

To further it, to become the Belén she used to be, she went back to her old aerial dance team in the city. While at first it had become nothing but a pastime, her skills proved to be more than intact for a true show. That was when they informed Belén they wanted to give a tribute to the Azalea since the city was planning on giving the Flash his own personal day. Belén honestly hadn't known what to feel then, especially after being asked to be the lead of the show. She had been so focused on getting the Azalea out of her life that she forgot some people actually cared about her - the Azalea. After much hassling, Belén agreed to be the lead for her own tribute.

And it wasn't like she was letting the Azalea completely die. Since her powers had given her some trouble that caused her to lose control, she started training with Cisco to get them back under her reigns. No more would she lose control even if she no longer used her powers as a hero.

"Belén?" Dr. Baeva asked again, this time hoping for an answer.

"At first, I was relieved, you know, that I wouldn't have to worry about being the Azalea anymore. Because if she was dead, then I couldn't lose anymore people like my brother and my sister..." Belén paused to think, "But today being the day that I'm technically supposed to say goodbye to the Azalea, I...I…" her face changed fast and revealed she was terribly opposed to it, "...I don't want to say goodbye. I am the Azalea, and I am not dead."

Despite her professional conduct, Dr. Baeva's lips twitched trying to form a smile. Secretly, she didn't want to see the Azalea gone either.

~0~

Belén's footsteps over the grassy field of the cemetary crunched some of the fallen leaves on the ground. She passed gravestones in silence until she came to the two that she always visited. Her dark brown eyes gazed over her father's gravestone with a sad smile. She turned her left palm over and gently flicked a couple of her fingers. Green vines rose from the grass and crawled over the edges of the gravestone, letting hot pink Azaleas blossom.

"Today's my show, Dad," Belén took in a deep breath, putting on another smile as if her father would see it. David Palayta had been dead for over a year now, but it still felt like yesterday when Belén lost him to murder by Thawne. "They all think I'm dead but you know that I'm not. I'm still here. Wish me good luck."

She cleared her throat and moved to the gravestone beside her father's. Despite it being six months later, she still shuddered a breath upon seeing her twin brother's name. Rayan Palayta had caused her to shed so many tears, but even now Belén loved her brother. Maybe it was better this way - it seemed to beat an everlasting coma anyways.

Six months ago, after being captured by Belén and their older sister Maritza, Rayan had been induced into a coma. Due to his overwhelming telekinetic powers, his body had begun to shut down starting with important parts of his brain. It was those important parts that caused Rayan to lose his personality for that of a delirious, evil metahuman. While they had the option of leaving Rayan in a coma, it was decided between Belén and her mother - who had to learn the hard way that her son had turned into a criminal - that it would be better to pull the plug. Rayan was already dead, in a sense.

Belén raised her hand and created the same pink Azaleas. "I still miss you, Rayan," she whispered and wiped some tears from her eyes before they escaped.

~ 0 ~

The next day, everyone in the city gathered for 'Flash Day' at the town's favorite park. There were many sellers of food, toys, trinkets; anything possible it was there. At the center of the park was a large stage with a podium, and a large Flash banner hung at the back for everyone to see.

At a corner were various city cop cars parked while some of its drivers scoured the event. Cisco and Joe were leaned back on Joe's car, overlooking the event.

"Are we expecting trouble?" Cisco asked after counting each cop that was present.

"Cops always expect trouble. In this city, I expect super evil flying monsters," Joe shot him a smile.

Cisco gave a nod of his head. "That's a solid expectation." He turned his head when he heard a familiar boy's happy cries and saw Axel jumping up and down as Belén handed him an ice cream. "Bells!" Cisco called, making the woman look up.

Smiling, she gently pushed Axel to walk towards the two men. "Hey," she greeted them both.

"Is that cherry ice cream?" Cisco looked down at Axel's ice cream with shock.

"Mine!" Axel poked Cisco on the leg with a medium-sized inflatable, red hammer.

"Axel!" Belén scolded and snatched said toy from him. "We do not do that!"

"Sorry," the boy said after a moment.

"Don't worry about it," Cisco laughed.

"So did you guys convince him?" Belén looked at Joe anxiously. She preferred not to say his name out loud for...reasons...

"Iris talked to him but...we don't know if he's coming or not," admitted the man.

"He better come, because someone-" Belén nodded down at Axel, "-is expecting an appearance."

"You sure it's only the four year old?" Cisco couldn't help tease. Belén deadpanned him then hit him over the head with the inflatable hammer. "I deserve that," went Cisco afterwards while Joe and Axel laughed.

"Belén?" they heard a man a call. Belén glanced back just as a young man with dark hair and matching eyes approached them. "I lost you!"

Smiling apologetically, Belén gestured to the toy she held and then Axel. "He wanted some things."

"You sure it was only the four year old?" the man teased much like Cisco had, and, just like before, Belén hit him on the head with the inflatable hammer.

"Everyone is so mean today," Belén huffed.

"While you huff and gruff, I'm gonna introduce myself to your friends." The man extended a hand to the surprised Cisco. "Mark Forneez."

"Cisco Ramon," the other said slowly, suddenly eyeing Mark with a bit of distaste.

"Joe West," the older man was also eyeing Mark suspiciously.

"Mark is my old time friend from my aerial dancing group," Belén explained, noticing her friends' looks. "He's been helping me get back in shape for the show."

"You're coming right?" Mark then asked of the two men who had yet to say anything after introducing themselves. "Belén's really nervous because it's her first show after so many years."

"Yeah, we'll be there," Cisco broke out of his trance to respond.

"Great," Mark glanced back at Belén, "We should go. Ingrid's looking for us."

Belén nodded and handed him the inflatable hammer to take Axel's hand. "I'll see you guys tonight then," she said to Cisco and Joe.

"Are they, you know…?" Joe felt awkward asking the question on a woman that wasn't even related to him. But he knew that despite Barry purposely avoiding Belén, he still so very much cared for her.

"I have...no idea," Cisco admitted. They'd practiced together but Belén had never mentioned anything about dating again.

As Belén and Mark walked off, Belén was laughing. "Ingrid's so gonna kill you for that one."

They stopped at a stall where some of their other aerial dance friends were. Almost immediately, Axel spotted yet another toy he wanted and despite Belén telling him no, Mark offered a 'yes'. He took Axel's hand and smugly waved goodbye at Belén who didn't look so mad as she struggled not to laugh instead.

As she calmed, however, she felt like someone was looking at her. She glanced back but saw no one specific that had an interest in her. Thinking it was just her imagination, she focused back on her team. It would be impossible to spot Barry in the midst of so many people. But that was how he could catch brief moments of her without having to be so close and so...tempted to talk with her. She looked happy, and that was what he wanted the most. She didn't have to keep hurting because of him, no. She deserved better and she was finally getting it.

Barry wasn't too sure of her new friends since he preferred not to look them up like a jealous ex-boyfriend (which he told himself he was not) would. He just knew that they were part of her aerial team. He recognized only one, though, because he had met Mark the day Belén took him to the show Barry had bought her tickets to. And although it shouldn't, it irked Barry that Belén had spent so much time with Mark over these last couple of months.

And perhaps if Barry hadn't been so focused on his thoughts he would have seen a strange man snapping a picture of him from afar...as well as one of Belén's.

"Datura," the strange man mumbled and hurried to leave before anyone noticed him.

Time later, the mayor of the city appeared to address the massive crowd. He walked down the stage to stand before the podium. "Good morning, Central City," he began, "A year ago, our world changed. Our city became ground zero for... some pretty weird stuff. We got a new breed of criminal: Men and women who defied not only our laws, but physics and reason. But we got something else, too. We got the Flash! Our wounds run deep as we have lost people in the process, and I know many of you are afraid of what threats tomorrow may bring. But the Flash doesn't just protect us, he restores hope where it was lost. That's why I'm honored to present the key to the man who saved Central City: The Flash!" He raised a miniature golden key propped on a black platform intending for the Flash to take it.

There was a couple of minutes in which the crowd could only look around to see if the man of the hour would show up. But, thankfully, Barry sped straight up to the stage. Instantly, the crowd cheered for him.

The Mayor turned from the podium to address Barry. "The doors to Central City will forever be open for you, Flash."

Although heavily uncomfortable, Barry played the role the city so desperately wanted him to play and reached to take the key.

"LOOK OUT!" Joe suddenly screamed at the sight of a meals-on-wheels lunchtruck flying midair towards the stage.

Barry quickly took the mayor and zipped off the stage. The crowd screamed and dispersed as the truck crashed onto the stage. Among the crowd, Belén grabbed her nephew and ran to safety without looking back. Cops failed to stop the mysterious culprit who hid underneath a black, metal mask. He proved to be quite strong when he threw Barry over a cop's car with little effort.

Joe had to break Cisco from a sudden trance in order to get the man's newly-finished device that would apparently help them fight off metahumans. Cisco handed Joe a metal device fashioned in the manner of a bazooka or gun. Joe shot towards the metahuman and out sprang a metal clamp that attached itself to the metahuman's leg. It gave off electricity but instead of harming the metahuman, it enlarged him. Barry got up from his fall and spotted gas tanks meant to be used for the food. He rushed over and returned with two of them in his hands.

"What are you doing!?" Joe eyed the tanks in confusion.

"I'm throwing, you're shooting," Barry warned of the quick plan. He threw the tanks towards the metahuman and Joe swiftly shot at both of them, making them explode right over the metahuman. The two were blown back from the force but were able to look up in time to see the metahuman had also been blown back. His mask opened up for a split second to reveal a very familiar face underneath.

"That's Al Rothstein," Joe pointed with a shaking finger. "The body we found at the nuclear plant, he's alive!"

Al's mask re-closed again and he made his escape.

~ 0 ~

Later that same day, Cisco made a visit to Belén's home which, as he was seeing the woman in question planting a 'For sale' sign on the front yard, was about to become ex-home.

"Uuh, what are you doing?" Cisco came to a stop with an incredulous look.

Belén finished sticking the pole into the ground and looked back, clapping her hands to rid of dust. "Putting a sign up?"

"Wh-why?" Cisco's voice broke with incredible emotion that for a moment Belén laughed.

"Cisco, I'm moving to a smaller apartment - not out of the city of course."

"Oh thank God!" Cisco put a hand over his chest and came up to her, dramatically sighing. "I don't need this, you know!"

Belén rolled her eyes. "Cisco, c'mon! Think I would leave the city without telling you?" Cisco tilted his head at her, reminding her that she had in fact done that already. "Okay, I wouldn't do that anymore. I found a place, okay?"

"You did? And you didn't tell us?" Cisco feigned a heavy offence.

Belén lightly punched him on the arm. "Stop that!"

Cisco sobered up and saw Axel playing on the front porch with a couple of toys. Belén became serious and started to clean up the mess the sign on the yard had left.

"It's just hard to live here, Cisco," she said suddenly. "I lost my Dad, my sister and my twin. The house is just full of reminders. Plus-" she glanced at him, "-it's a lot cheaper to live in an apartment."

"Bells you know if you need anything you can ask me right?"

Belén smiled softly. "Of course. Now, since I know you're supposed to be at work, can I ask what you needed?"

Immediately a cheekish smile spread across Cisco's face. "So, actually, Joe and I have been looking into our new metahuman-"

"Even though I would assume Barry told you all 'no'?"

"Exactly-" Cisco nodded and went on, "-but Iris mentioned that when the guy went all high and tall, all the nearby x-ray machines totally, like, failed. So i think maybe there's something connected there."

"Reasonable," Belén concluded. "Uh, but, where do I come in?"

"Well, I really need to see Cait but I doubt she'll approve of me getting into Mercury Labs if I tell her beforehand what I'm planning so...could you come with me?"

"You want a free pass into Mercury Labs," Belén couldn't help chuckled. She always had a free entrance into Mercury Labs since her father used to work there.

"C'mon! Dr. McGee practically loves you and let's you waltz in right past through security any time you want. It would be a lot easier if you came."

"Cisco," Belén shook her head at him but couldn't stop laughing.

"Please come with me?" Cisco clapped his hands together to plead with her.

"Cisco…" Belén looked back at her nephew on the porch, "I have plans with Iris for lunch. She's gonna take Axel for the night since my show is in about-" she checked her phone's time, "-four hours. So I have no one to look after Axel right now."

"Bring him along, then!" Cisco easily devised the solution. "Caitlin is a sucker for kids. One big smile from Axel and we're good to go." Belén was still reluctant however. She hadn't exactly seen Caitlin since the singularity killed her husband. "Bells, please. The last fight had Barry thrown right into a cop's car-"

"Is he okay!?" Belén reacted fast and worried.

For a moment, Cisco wanted to smile, but if he did he knew the chances of Belén coming with him would go scarce. "He's fine, but next time he may not get so lucky. This guy can go Hulk if you know what I mean. So it would really help if we can get to Caitlin."

With that explanation, how could Belén say no? Of course she wanted to help, even if Barry didn't want it. "Let me just grab Axel a jacket," she said and rushed off into the house.

Cisco did a small punch in the air as she ran off.

~0~

In such a professional workspace, the last thing Caitlin expected to hear was a child's laughter in the hallway. The moment she looked up from her microscope, she saw Cisco, Belén and Axel walking into the lab. Cisco was instantly awed by the various machinery in the room. Belén could care less what was inside the room - she was more interested and quieting down the child with her.

"That is the last time Dr. McGee gives you a lollipop," she mumbled and walked him and herself up to Caitlin. "Hi Caitlin."

Caitlin smiled at the woman, and the child. "Hi Belén. Axel."

"Hi, Caitlin!" he exclaimed back and gasped at the wall full of funny porthole-like windows on the wall behind Caitlin. "Ooh!" he snatched his hand from Belén's and ran up to them.

At the same time, Cisco did the same and followed after him. "Sweet Sarek. Is that a 6K proton splicer?"

"A what-what now?" Belén crossed her arms.

Caitlin chuckled. "Yes, it is. Dr. McGee insists on having all the latest technology."

"Wow," Cisco looked back with a goofy smile on his face. "You deserve it."

"Cisco?" Belén called and pointed at Axel next to him who was trying to stick his lollipop into a hole of machine.

"You ruined your lollipop!" Cisco swiped the kid off the floor and brought him back to his aunt. "I spotted you, at the rally today, and I'm guessing you saw what happened," he said to Caitlin who sighed in return

"Cisco, I can't come back."

"Trust me," Belén bitterly laughed, "Barry wouldn't want you there anyways."

Cisco felt awkwardness begin to settle in the room and decided to change the topic for the real reason they were there in the first place. "Okay, check this out: we found this-" he pulled a Ziploc bag from his pocket that held a small, metal squared object inside, "-on a victim at the nuclear power plant, but the badge shows absolutely nothing at all, which is so weird. What's also weird is that at the same time that meta-human grew, all the x-ray machines within a mile radius just went belly-up."

Caitlin politely let him talk, get it out of his system, but when she saw where he was headed she had to cut him off. If only she could. "Cisco-"

Cisco put the object on her desk, sliding towards her. "Just... if you could just... See if the badge was tampered with or something. I mean, if it's broken, or... Whatever. It'll really help."

Belén his her smile as Caitlin mocked a scolding face at Cisco. With her face, she moved over to the shelves opposite of them to get started on the task.

"I've gotta get going," Belén announced and set Axel on the floor, this time keeping his small hand in a tight hold. "Iris is waiting and I've got a busy, busy night."

Caitlin remembered and called to her just as she turned to leave. "Thank you for the invitation."

Belén glanced back, "You know the public's invited. I just made it my business to make sure and invite my friends specifically."

Caitlin smiled nonetheless. "Still. I know I haven't been good at keeping connections with everyone, but…" and even as she fought against it, her eyes teared up.

"Cait, it's okay," Belén came back to give her a hug. "I understand that process - grieving and mourning is difficult. We get it. We all do."

Caitlin saw Cisco also giving her a nod of agreement. She smiled at both of them and promised she would be there at the community theater just like the rest.

~0~

Because Jitters was still out of business from the singularity - though there were rumors someone was apparently constructing it again during nights - Iris had chosen another small cafe shop to eat lunch at. She and Belén had taken to going there during their lunch breaks, even getting to know some of the employees there. Iris was already sitting at a booth when she saw Belén and Axel coming in. Belén was holding a small backpack meant to hold all of Axel's belongings Iris would need for the night. She wasn't quite sure what Axel would throw at her but she was insistent with Belén to leave the boy with her for the night while Belén celebrated her night. Iris just wanted to help Belén in any way that she could. She couldn't imagine taking on a four year old and adding a second job was easy.

"Sorry we're a bit late," Belén ushered Axel into the booth. "I had to go with Cisco to Mercury Labs and then someone-" she threw a look to Axel who was already reaching for a menu on the table, "-couldn't decide if he wanted to bring along Woody or Buzz Lightyear."

Axel could feel his aunt's eyes on him and made his defense. "They re my favorite!"

"Always go with Woody," Iris wagged a finger at Axel who giggled in return.

"I took both!" he informed excitedly. "Aunt Belén says you don't have toys anymore."

"I'm sure we can dig through Barry's things and find something," Iris promised and looked at her friend. "Did I hear you went to Mercury Labs with Cisco?"

"Uh, yeah," Belén reached for a menu and started to skim through it. "He said something about needing Cait to look over a badge or something. Apparently it connects back to your metahuman problem."

"Our metahuman problem," Iris corrected.

Belén lowered the menu and, with a face, "Barry would disagree."

"Well, that needs to change," Iris retorted but Belén scoffed.

"Good luck."

Iris was a bit annoyed to see Belén in such indifference. She knew it was a fake. It had to be. Belén wouldn't stop caring like that no matter how much she tried.

"Belén, you can help us changing his mind-"

"I can't do anything anymore, remember?" Belén interjected seriously. "That's what happens when a couple breaks up. You, though, you're his sister, you can help him more than anyone." Belén shifted uncomfortably and went back to reading off the menu.

"I don't care what you nor Barry say, I know you still care, both of you."

Belén's eyes flickered up from the menu. "He talks about me still?" Iris made a 'duh' face in return. "Iris...it doesn't matter anymore. You want him to stop going out there alone? Then stop listening to him for God's sake! He keeps pushing you all away because you let him. It gets easier when you stop pushing."

Iris' eyes blinked fast for a couple of seconds before she got an idea. "Oh my god, you are a genius. I should have came to you months ago!"

Belén playfully rolled her eyes. When the waitress came by, she ordered Axel a grilled cheese sandwich and a salad for herself. Iris ordered herself a chicken sandwich.

"I miss soda so much," Belén dramatically sighed as she passed Axel a child's cup of soda.

Iris smiled in amusement. She knew Belén was eating light for her show in a couple of hours, but over the months of training she had to eat healthier in order to be able to perform at her top shape.

"And donuts - man I really miss donuts," Belén shook her head.

"Just one more night," Iris reminded for support.

Belén nodded and took a breath. "I'm actually really nervous. What if I mess up the dance?"

"Hey, you will be perfect!" Iris shut down any thoughts like those. "My dad, Axel and I will be there front row, right Axel?"

"Yes!" Axel nodded and took a sip from his soda.

"Caitlin agreed to come too," Belén shared with a small smile.

"Oh my god, that's great!" Iris felt this could truly be the returning to normal she really wanted to see. "We'll be there, don't worry."

And she didn't say it out loud but she knew Barry wouldn't miss it either. He had always been curious of how the whole aerial dancing worked to begin with. Knowing Belén was the star of the show, there was no way he would skip out on it.

Iris' phone rang and when she pulled it out from her purse she showed it to Belén. "It's a text from Cisco."

"What's he say?" Belén wondered.

"Caitlin came through with the examination apparently. There was a connection like I thought." Iris looked up expecting to see more interest from Belén, but there was none. "The metahuman uses radiation or something to fuel his powers," Iris tried again in a different pitch but still Belén did nothing. "Do you just not care anymore?" Iris frowned.

"Who cares?" Belén tried. "Not like I'll be working there. And even if you follow my advice, what then? Will I just waltz in-"

"Yes! Yes you will!" Iris found herself near shouting that she stopped talking for a moment to better collect herself. "You should," she began after a minute and in a quieter tone, "Because Barry needs you." Belén began to shake her head but Iris was never one to give up. "He says he doesn't but he does. I know it. My dad knows it. Cisco knows it. Barry knows it." Iris sighed, hating to be so insistent but someone had to do it. "You need him too. Don't you care about him?"

Belén's indifference faltered for a split second - and Iris thought it was enough to break through - before she murmured an excuse of having to go use the restroom.

~0~

Following Iris' advice, she, Cisco, Joe and professor Stein met up at STAR Labs to discuss what Caitlin had provided Cisco with. Almost five minutes after getting into the computers, Barry got the alert and sped over thinking someone tried breaking in.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked, slightly breathless.

Iris looked up from the computer Cisco was showing them on. "Working," she said like it was obvious.

"So, Caitlin was right," Cisco said after professor Stein looked over the information.

"Yes, all humans contain small amounts of radiation due to contact with cell phones, microwaves, televisions, et cetera," Stein replied. "Our bodies are natural conductors."

Cisco thought out loud. "I think our meta's been sucking up all the radiation around him and using it to power himself."

Iris understood and gasped. "Which is why the x-ray machines at the hospital failed the day of the rally."

"So if we want to find him, we gotta look for places without radiation!" Cisco concluded and delved on a computer, suddenly missing it so much.

"Alright, guys, I don't want any of you here right now," Barry motioned them they could leave. However this time, they were all acting on Belén's advice.

"Tough. You need your partners," Joe pointed at him. "You need your friends."

Iris looked up again and walked over to Barry. "Barry, everyone in this room cares about you, but we also care about this city. We all want to make a difference, and that means fighting meta-humans, and that means working with the Flash. You can't deny us that. Not anymore."

Cisco suddenly cheered. "Got him! There's a three block dead zone near a hazardous waste reclamation plant. It should be blooming with rads, and right now it's at zero!"

"That's where you'll find your atom smasher!" Stein exclaimed so excitedly. "Because he absorbs atomic power, and he, well, smashes."

Cisco seemed in awe of the man. "Come here!" he embraced Stein in a tight hug.

"That's a great name. Welcome to the team!"

Impatient Barry tried yet again to make them leave. "Great, guys, thank you. You can go now, all right?"

"Barry, you need to let Cisco and Stein figure out a way to stop this guy-" Joe began but, now irritated they weren't listening to him Barry cut him off.

"No, I don't!" he sped off with his suit.

Cisco picked up a small ear device from the desk that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Barry left his comm system behind. We can't talk to him. He's on his own."

Indeed Barry had gone off alone to find Al again. The metahuman turned out to be exactly where Cisco had said. But in the cortex, they weren't prepared to let Barry stay on his own. Cisco looked for security cameras to help them see what Barry was doing.

Barry used a whirlwind move on Al but only mildly pushed Al back. Seeing it hadn't worked, Barry went in to punch him. Al grabbed an upperhand and struck Barry around the collarbone. He rolled into the ground and before he could even blink, Al seized him by the neck and slammed him against a brick wall...repeatedly..

It proved that he did need his friends. Because back there, they managed to get into the alarm system and activated it to give Barry the distraction he needed to get away.

He sped back into the STAR Labs building, coming to a stumbling stop in the corridor. He stumbled side to side, his head feeling like it was still being slammed against a wall. With no control, Barry collapsed to the floor. Seconds later, the others emerged to help him.

"Oh my God!" Iris watched as her father and Cisco picked the unconscious Barry off the ground and headed for the cortex. Without thinking, she rushed for her purse and pulled out her phone.

~0~

Belén sat on a makeup and hair chair watching as the stylist gently placed a flower crown with big, hot-pink Azaleas around it over her hair. She heard her phone ringing on the table and reached to answer it.

"Hello?" Belén was cautious in placing her phone over her ear. The hairstyle was a nifty one that still needed to settle with the hairspray.

"Belén, you gotta get over here!" Iris began to shout on the other line.

"What? Go where?" Belén frowned. She mouthed a 'thank you' to the stylist and waited for her to go before continuing with Iris on the phone. "Iris, please stop shouting I can't understand you!"

"It's that metahuman I told you earlier! Barry didn't listen to us and went to fight him-"

"Is he okay?" Belén got up from her chair and turned away from the mirror. "Iris?"

"He's, well...he's outcold, but he got hit real bad. And on the head!"

Belén sighed, feeling her heart clench as she felt Iris' distress. "Is he going to be okay…?"

"I don't know. Probably. With his fast healing. But, we think it may be awhile until he wakes up again."

Belén bit her lip and glanced at the clock striking seven.

"Belén, I know you still care," Iris spoke after a moment of silence. "That's why I called you."

"Iris, I can't do this anymore…" Belén shook her head. "I can't...I can't keep listening to the same thing over and over. It's done. Barry and I are done."

"Yeah, well, if that was true then you wouldn't still be on the line with me," Iris cleverly responded with. "Barry's going to be outcold for a while. Do what you want with that information." She hung up after that, leaving Belén to ponder.

She looked at the clock on the wall again. Clutching her phone to her chest, she thought long and hard.

~ 0 ~

Joe remained alone sitting beside Barry's unconscious body in the cortex. Everyone else had gone off to get ready for Belén's show, but he had opted to remain back for when Baryr woke up he wouldn't be alone. When he heard someone clearing their throat he half-expected Iris to be there but instead found Belén there.

"Belén?" he rose from his chair, staring at the woman questionably.

She had come in with a styled hair, loose curls around her face and a tilted Azalea flower crown over her head. "Hi…" she greeted nervously, her eyes drifting to Barry behind him. "Um, Iris called...and she...she said something about Barry fighting a metahuman?"

"Oh, yeah. He won't stop doing things alone," Joe sighed and glanced back at Barry. "I don't know how else to get through to him."

"He's stubborn like that," Belén slowly came forwards.

"Yeah, he is." Joe looked back at her. "Aren't you supposed to be doing that...show thing?"

"Yes, in about thirty minutes," Belén nodded her head. She managed to sneak out of the theater without anyone catching her, but by now they were probably going crazy trying to find her.

"And you came here?" Joe raised an eyebrow at the sheepish woman. "For Barry?"

"I'm crazy like that," Belén turned her pink-nailed hands to her palms. "Do you mind if I, uh…" she pointed at Barry, "I promise I'll be like five minutes max. I gotta get back fast."

"Yeah, no, go ahead!" Joe quickly made himself sparse. With any luck, Barry would wake up while she was there and listen to her.

Belén waited for him to leave before she went up to Barry's side. She sat down on Joe's chair and looked at Barry. "Look at where are now," she sighed. She reached for her flower crown that was threatening to fall and pulled it off her head, placing it on the small metal table beside the bed. "I keep telling them all that I don't care anymore but apparently I'm not a good liar. I do care, Barry, and still so much." She raised her head and revealed reddish eyes. "It's been six months and it still breaks my heart that you decided for both of us we're better off without each other."

"How could you think that, Barry!?" Belén practically screamed at him. She watched Barry pace back and forth in her living room. "How could you think that I would ever agree with this!?"

"Belén, it's for the best!" Barry stopped to look at her. He had to force himself to look at her while she cried because of him. "Look at you - every time you cry it's because of something that I did. I don't...I can't do that to you anymore."

"That's not true!" Belén continued to shout.

"I failed at doing the one thing that would end up helping you as much as it would have me. I didn't change the time line and now my mother's dead, my father's in jail." Barry reached for her arms. "I...couldn't bring back your dad, I let your sister go to jail and your brother's in a coma. Nothing changed."

"Barry, please," Belén's voice broke. "I need you."

"Soon, you won't," Barry promised her, his own heart breaking with those words. It was going to be hard staying away from her, letting her move on from him, but he felt it was the right thing to do. "I'm sorry, Bells, but people died because of me...and the last thing I ever want to see is the same thing to happen to you." He kissed her forehead and looked down at her. "I want you to be happy."

Belén felt his hands leave her arms after. "Barry?" he shook his head and made his way for the front door. Belén turned around and watched with tears in her eyes as he walked out.

In the present, Belén was struggling to control her tears. She couldn't ruin her makeup or else she really would get it later. "I got it now, what you were trying to do. I didn't agree with it - I still don't - but I understood what you wanted. The day you stop blaming yourself for things that you had no control of will be the day I can finally understand science." She shook her head and rose from her chair. Her hand reached for one of Barry's and it suddenly felt like she was at home again. "I miss you, Barry. I do care, but it doesn't matter I guess." She gripped his hand for a moment then let it go. "You know-" she bit her lip as a small, bitter smile spread across her face, "-tonight was the night I was supposed to say goodbye to the Azalea and bury her for good...but I decided I didn't want to do that. Instead, I guess I'm saying goodbye to you." She stifled a sob and bit the inside of her cheek. Pressing a hand to the bed, she leaned to Barry and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, Barry."

It was like she was making an escape with the way she rushed out of the room. Her tears were beginning to fall so she had to keep patting the sides of her eyes. She just wouldn't look back anymore.

Joe returned to the cortex a while later. He came back to his chair and spotted the Azalea flower crown Belén accidentally left behind. There passed fifteen minutes of utter silence before Barry gasped awake.

"Hey!" Joe quickly set out to make sure he was fine.

"Where is everyone?" Barry breathed heavily as he returned to normal. The last thing he remembered was escaping Al's wrath, but that had only been by a bare minimum.

"They're all at the city's theater," Joe cleared his throat. "It's near eight."

"Right…" of course Barry remembered what was on tonight. He had made plans to sneak in and get a glimpse of the star.

"You're not gonna do this anymore," Joe announced after a minute. "For the last six months I've given you your space to work all this out, come back to us. But today proved that you'd rather just get yourself killed."

Barry stared up at the ceiling and bitterly laughed. "It's better than getting my friends killed."

Joe expected that sort of answer and shook his head. "You want me to tell you that it wasn't your fault? I can't. It was. Guess what? You weren't the only person making decisions that day. All of the rest of us were there too. Eddie and Ronnie, they chose to help you stop Wells, and stop that…"

"Singularity," Barry said for him.

"Singularity thing. It's on all of us, Barry. So stop with this hogging all the blame and regret. We gotta live with it. Move on."

A single tear strolled down Barry's cheek. "What do I do now?"

"Well, I know that you've been rebuilding Central City at night. It's just bricks and paint. Maybe you should start trying to rebuild…" Joe reached for the flower crown and held it for Barry to see, "...things that really matter."

For a moment, Barry was confused to find that there. His eyes trailed the Azaleas and soon enough he made his own theories. Joe handed the crown over to Barry who took it with such delicacy. He stared at it long and hard; his heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

~ 0 ~

The theater had created an Azalea themed show to give tribute to the fallen metahuman. In the front row there was Iris, Axel, Cisco, Caitlin, even professor Stein and his wife Clarissa had gotten prime seats. They all got to watch their friend climb and swing on bright silk in a graceful manner. It was truly amazing to see people so balanced enough to hold their entire bodies using only one silk. Ones would twist on their feet, another would drop in a rapid unwinding manner, etc.

Barry appeared midway through the show, but as Iris had predicted it was without letting others know; he chose to remain in the back towards the sidelines. The last thing he wanted was to break Belén's focus. His heart nearly leaped out from his chest when he would see her take those consecutive falls down. He truly felt like at one point she would slip and actually fall to the floor...but she proved to be just that talented. His eyes followed her every movement. At one point, she'd done an incredible ankle hang which consisted of her hanging upside down with a silk wrapped around one ankle. She pulled her upper body down, making one thing it had to have hurt her body at some point but the truth was she'd been practicing really hard to get the move right. And judging by the cheers of the crowd, she'd done good. Her last act had her sitting back up then pushing herself to once again be on her toes. She twirled herself various times then let herself swing backwards, eventually swinging upside down using only her feet.

Barry may or may not have lost it thinking she would fall. You're trying to kill me, he swallowed hard.

They were nearing the end of the show, and in all that time Barry had not let his eyes focus on anything that was not Belén. She looked beautiful, absolutely beautiful and at home doing what she loved to do. She seemed happy, and for a moment Barry thought himself selfish for trying to come back to her.

Had he not been so focused on her, he might have seen a hooded figure on the other side of the audience walking in.

Belén swung the silk around her left thigh and used it to twirl. She passed the silk over her waistline then gently twirled again. She did a fast-paced, final twirl and began to climb her way upwards. Just as she made to wrap the silk around her again there was a loud gunshot that rang in the room. Immediately she felt something collide into her left arm, just above her elbow. She let out a shaky gasp as she used both her hands to hold onto the silk. With the pain coursing through her arm, her strength wasn't quite enough for a strong hold. In the crowd there was duress as everyone tried to figure out who had fired. Iris had grabbed Axel and held him impossibly close while Barry began to scope out the area.

But the hooded figure shot again and this time it went for Belén's collarbone, effectively knocking her backwards.

Barry sped towards the stage and caught her in time. He stopped outside the theater and looked at her shaking body. "Bells?"

Despite being in crucial pain, Belén managed to express her shock of seeing him. "B-Barry? You...you came - ah!" She threw her head back with a groan.

"H-Hang on okay, I'm gonna get you to the hospital!" Barry sped off for the only hospital Belén could safely be admitted into.

~ 0 ~

What seemed like hours later, Dr. Nina Clarke walked into the hospital's waiting room where Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Iris (with a sleeping Axel in her arms) anxiously waited to get word on their friend. It had been a mess getting out of the theater with all the cops and the witnesses. Joe had remained on site to personally get the details while the rest headed to the hospital to see their friend. The entire audience had seen 'the Flash' take the show's lead away and so the aerial team was a bit more comfortable thinking their teammate would be good.

"Hey," Barry was the first to see Nina and quickly rushed up to her. He hadn't been able to sit down like the others. "H-how is she?"

"She's gonna have a hell of pain for some time but she'll be fine," Nina said to everyone's relief. "The bullets didn't get far so nothing important has been damaged. She'll just have some patches and probably will have to restrain the use of her left arm for a bit."

"But sh-she'll be completely fine?" Barry needed to hear that nothing would happen to Belén.

"She'll be just fine," Nina confirmed. "And no one here knows anything about her meta powers, alright? Did the records myself."

"Thanks," Barry said. In the moment, he probably could have let Caitlin help Belén, but it would've been a lot harder since everything at STAR Labs was effectively put away except his suit.

"Can we see her?" Caitlin inquired from Nina, getting up from her spot beside Iris.

"Yes, but not too many people," Nina warned them.

"Promise," Cisco raised a hand.

Nina smiled but as she looked around she grew serious. She made a motion with her hand for them to get close. When they did, she got to business. "What actually happened out there? I thought it was just a theater show?"

"It was meant to be," Cisco muttered. "But then someone shot her - twice!"

"I couldn't see anyone from where I was," Barry shook his head.

"And none of us saw anyone either," Caitlin added.

Nina sighed at Belén's luck. "Well, I hope they catch that person. Belén was really excited to get back on stage. She deserved better." With that, she left the group to continue her shift.

"I'm gonna go see Bells," Cisco declared and glanced at Barry to see if it was fine. When Barry gave a nod, Cisco took Caitlin with him into the hallway for Belén's room.

Barry turned back to sit next to Iris when they both saw Joe coming into the room. "Hey," Barry hurried to meet the older man, "So, did you get him?"

"No," Joe shook his head and felt bad as the other two sighed.

"Did you at least get clues?" Iris asked.

"There were a couple of witnesses saying they saw a man in a black mask and hoodie walking out of the theater-"

"That's Al Rothstein," Barry said instantly, his hatred for the new metahuman multiplying tenfold. "It's got to be."

Joe nodded in agreement. He had thought the same thing when he got the descriptions from the witnesses.

"I'm gonna get him," Barry gritted his teeth together and made a move for the exit.

Joe grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "You are not going anywhere."

"Joe, he shot-"

"I know what he did. Everyone knows what he did. But you are not going to go after him until we have a good, clear plan," Joe said and looked at Iris for some backup.

The woman nodded her head. "He's right, Barry. You're just gonna get yourself hurt and when Belén wakes up you won't be there. Is that what you want?"

Barry, frustrated, turned away from the two. "No," he muttered.

"Then please, sit down and wait for Cisco and Caitlin to come back so we can go in and see Bells."

Like a child, Barry did as told and took a seat next to Iris.

"I'm gonna go give a call to Detective Greene," Joe turned to leave when Barry called to him, getting up as well.

"Wait, you're calling Belén's mom?"

"Uh, yeah," Joe thought it was a given that it was going to happen. "If my kid was shot I'd like to know too."

"Yeah, it's just...Bells doesn't have the best relationship with her…"

"Veronica can be whatever Belén wants, but she still is the mother and she deserves to know what happened to her daughter." Joe gave his last word on that topic and walked away.

"He's right," Iris said after a moment. Barry turned around and went back for his seat. As he delve his face into his hands, Iris stared at him. "So? What are you gonna do?"

Barry raised his head to meet her questionable face. "What?"

Iris nodded towards the hallway, regarding Belén. "You just saw her getting shot - twice - and you're not thinking about how to talk with her now?"

"It's a bit difficult after six months," Barry argued and took in a breath. "What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey Bells, sorry for once again letting one of my enemies hurt you. Other than that, how are you?'" he shot Iris a sharp look.

"You cannot be blaming yourself for that," Iris shook her head. She really should have seen that one coming. "You don't even know what Al was planning. He doesn't know who Belén is, remember?"

"Then why else would he go after her specifically?" Barry asked, wishing he knew that answer.

"I don't know," Iris came up blank as well. "Maybe he heard that the show was in honor of the Flash's supposed deceased partner and he thought if he made an appearance you would be there."

"I'm gonna find him...and he's gonna pay," Barry swore, clenching one fist.

Iris smiled and looked ahead. About damn time, she thought.

~ 0 ~

As Nina had warned the group later in the night, Belén had not regained consciousness for the entire night and following morning. She missed out on the various visitors that came to see how she was doing. Among those were her old college friends, her aerial team and Linda Park from CC Picture News. She slept through it all.

It was midday when she finally gave signs of life apart from her beeping machine beside her. Her fingers twitched as she drew in the breath she always took before waking up.

Her vision was a bit blurry till she blinked it away. When she did, she found Barry sitting on a chair beside her bed. It took her a moment to deduce that this was indeed real and not some sort of dream.

"Bells?" Barry saw her confused expressions and worried there was something wrong with her. "Belén? Can you hear me?"

Belén's gaze fixated on him and for a moment all she did was stare, her eyes squinting.

"There's something wrong," Barry deduced, nodding to himself and moving to get up from his chair. "I'm going to go call Nina."

Belén had to salivate her unused mouth in order to croak his name and stop him. The moment she tried to move she felt a sharp jab at her on her arm and collarbone. "Oh!"

Barry instinctively turned around and ran back. "Hey! Don't try to move, okay?"

"Oooh…" she scrunched her nose and turned her head to her left side, looking down at the large white patch sticking out from under her hospital gown. "What the hell…?"

"Do you not remember what happened?" Barry wondered if the entire thing had passed so fast that she hadn't retained it. He pulled his chair closer and sat down, reaching out to make sure she wouldn't move anymore.

"I was…" she looked to the side, "...dancing...I think."

"Yeah, you were. You were performing, remember?"

"But there was, um, uh...there was a…"

"A gunshot," Barry said for her and elicited a quick look from her. "Someone shot you, twice."

"Of course," Belén sighed. "That's the only way you'd talk to me again."

Barry felt the jab at his heart he knew he deserved so much. "Bells…"

"Because it's always like that, isn't it?" she slowly looked at him again. "I have to be near death for you to speak to me after some fight."

"You have every right to be mad with me-"

"I'm not mad, Barry," Belén sighed and looked away for a moment. "I was in the beginning. I was so mad at you. But then, after a while...I understood your reasons - I didn't agree with them - but I knew what you were trying to do. Even though-" she sarcastically glanced at him, "-it was the stupidest thing ever."

"Yeah, it was," Barry agreed with a fast nod of his head. "But I was trying to keep you safe, to make sure that you were happy."

"Do I look happy?" came the rapid snap.

"You looked incredibly happy when you were dancing."

Belén turned her head at him, staring in silence. "You were there?"

"I was there," Barry started to smile as he remembered her ethereal dances. "You were stunning. I have never seen talent like that before." There was a creep of a blush settling over Belén's face as she listened to his praises. "You were the star of the show - everyone loved you. I loved seeing you like that, happy while you did what you wanted. It's exactly what I wanted to see from you."

"That wasn't a decision you had the right to make," Belén whispered. "I was happy doing the aerial dancing, course, because it was something I always loved to do. But to say that I'm truly happy is a lie. I'm not."

"But you were, I saw you," Barry insisted. "You went out with your friends...you laughed, you smiled…" he would not add the parts where he was sure she was beginning to date that Mark.

"They were my friends, what was I supposed to do?" Belén raised an eyebrow. "Dump my problems on them? That's what my therapist is for. You made a decision that did not involve just you, period. You were wrong. You still are. Do you know that I said goodbye to you yesterday? Before my show? I actually left to go see you after you fought that metahuman...and I said my goodbye because I thought I deserved better than to mope for someone who didn't care anymore-"

"Hey, you can be mad but I never stopped caring about you," Barry made a point to correct and leave clarified.

"You didn't care enough to take my feelings into consideration," Belén's voice cracked. "I lost people and instead of just being there for me, you decided to break up with me? Who does that?" she cleared off some tears from her face with her good arm. "For a genius, you're pretty stupid."

Barry had to smile a bit at her last insult that had been more playful than actually insulting. It meant he still had a shot. "I am," he agreed. "And I wanna make things right. I messed up hugely with you. But I care. I really do. And I may be late but I would really like a second chance with you."

She could not deny that she wouldn't like to have him back, but something prevented her from telling him that right away. She rubbed some tears off her cheek and sighed. "I need to think about it."

The fact she hadn't accepted as fast as he'd like put Barry on edge. What if he had been late? What if she was already moving on from him? If that was the case then he would have to accept it, no doubt.

"I just...I spent six months trying to get over you," she tried to explain her indecision. "I need to think. Please."

"Yeah, no, don't worry," Barry put on his best face for her, leaning away from her. "I get it. I do." And he truly did. He knew he was taking a big chance asking for her to take him back, and he expected a harder challenge. It just didn't stop it from hurting.

Belén could see the disappointment in his eyes and felt bad. But she just couldn't blatantly go back to him.

~ 0 ~

Later that day, while everyone attended to the new metahuman - without Belén's knowledge - Iris and Linda had come over to see her and spend time with her.

"These are some nice flowers," Linda had stopped by one of the tables against the wall where there were several pots of flowers and bouquets of them. "Are those Azaleas?" she eyed the hot pink flowers.

Iris sent a knowing smile at Belén who chuckled.

"Yeah, apparently the flower shops are really abundant with them at the moment," Belén responded the clueless Linda.

"Yeah," the woman turned around, "It's in honor of the Azalea or something."

Iris moved over to grab one of the chairs and pulled it beside Belén's bed. "So, I brought you your laptop so you can Netflix while you're here." Belén laughed as Iris pulled out her laptop and placed it on the small bed stand beside her. "And you don't have to worry about Axel, we're all going to look after him until you're back on your feet."

"Yeah, and your job is safe, don't worry," Linda added. Everyone at CC Picture News heard of their co-worker's accident and of course understood she would have to miss some days, probably weeks, as she recuperated.

"Thank you guys so much," Belén was able to release a true sigh of relief. Being stuck in bed with nothing but her thoughts really stressed her out as she got to thinking of all the bills and Axel and her job.

"Of course," Linda smiled and eyed her friend. "So, redundant question I know, but, how are you feeling?"

"If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question today I would be rich enough to own half the city," Belén playfully rolled her eyes while the two women chuckled.

"I imagine you've had a lot of visitors," Iris hummed innocently while inspecting her nails. Belén thanked the heavens that Linda had come with Iris so that they would not talk about Barry. That is the last thing she needed right now, honestly.

"Yeah but none of them brought chocolates-" Linda was once again eyeing the gifts brought, "-how rude. And cheap."

Belén genuinely laughed for the first time but only lasted a couple of seconds before it ended with groans due to her collarbone and arm burning. "Oh, maybe crack jokes later, please."

Linda apologized and pulled a chair to sit on the other side of the bed. "Okay, serious time now. Iris and I were going to write an article together-"

"You two?" Belén's eyes flickered from Linda to Iris. "But Linda, you do sports."

"I know, but this is a topic we're both interested in," Linda smiled at Iris, apparently the two already settled for it.

"And we want your input as well," Iris looked at Belén with a mischievous tint in her eyes. "It's about the Azalea."

Before Belén could even react, Linda went on to explain. "We thought since the theater didn't get to finish her tribute, maybe Iris and I could write a killer article that gives a proper goodbye to the Azalea."

Belén's eyebrows raised. Goodbye?

"We wanted your ideas," Linda said, anxiously waiting for Belén's response. "It would be the three us of on the byline for the first time. Do you want to do it?"

Belén had become silent as many thoughts rushed through her mind. Iris suddenly wondered if she and Linda had picked the wrong time to bring up the delicate topic with Belén. When Linda had talked to her about the idea of writing a last article for the Azalea, Iris was so sure that it was only right that the Azalea herself had a chance to be a part of it.

"Bells?" Iris softly called to her friend after Linda tried for a full minute. "Hey?" she reached for Belén's good arm and gently nudged. "Are you okay?"

Belén suddenly seemed determined when she nodded her head. "I want to do it," she declared. "And I already have an idea." Linda seemed happy she agreed and immediately asked what it was. Belén took a deep breath, knowing that when she spoke her next words there would be no going back. "I don't think the Azalea's dead at all."

There were two very different reactions in response. Iris seemed horrified of what Belén had said, her head tilted a bit to the side with a look on her face that just screamed 'what are you doing!?'. Meanwhile, Linda looked like she thought she had just heard wrong.

"Wh-what are you talking about, Belén?" she chuckled a bit. "We all know she's dead. We saw that hole, thing...and-"

"You saw the blackhole, and the Flash, but not the Azalea," Belén corrected. "I mean...everyone is fixated on the idea that the Azalea died trying to help the Flash save the day when in reality we don't know what happened to her."

"Belén…" Iris whispered, "...are you...sure?"

Belén understood her question perfectly and nodded firmly. She was going to plant the seed of her eventual return.

"The Azalea is out there. And she's coming back."

~ 0 ~

Now with the full help of his friends, Barry had a plan to stop Al once and for all. Using a Batman-like symbol, he had lured Al into a random alleyway and was itching to get his well-needed revenge for Belén. He didn't care if Belén took him back or not - Al was going to pay for what he did to her.

"You want me?" he stepped towards Al with a cocky gesture. "You're gonna have to catch me."

Al smirked, thinking it was going to be an easy game. He needed to go home already. When Barry sped off, Al doubled his size and chased after him. Following Cisco's plan, Barry moved into a local nuclear plant that was active. Al slowed down his pace once Barry slowed down as well. The speedster slowly backed away down the room until he entered a glowing blue, tall, circular room/container.

"Didn't think I could catch you, huh?" Al kept his smug face.

"No, I knew you could," Barry responded in the same smug tone. "Now, Cisco!"

From STAR Labs, Cisco had hacked into the nuclear room's power system and activated the lockdown of the smaller room. Before the door slid shut, Barry sped out of it and left Al trapped inside. He watched as the room flooded radiation, causing a breakdown in Al as his body was unable to absorb it all. He returned to his regular size and collapsed on the floor.

"The radiation's been cleared. It's safe for you to go in," Cisco informed Barry through the comms.

When the door re-opened, Barry stepped inside. He kept to the wall just in case Al burst with newfound energy. Although, Al was merely twitching and gasping on the floor which ruled that idea out.

"You're not hurting anyone else," Barry promised him as he bent down beside Al. " Why did you want to kill me?"

"He promised he'd take me home... if I killed you," Al answered through strained words.

"Who? Who promised you that?"

"Zoom."

Well, that made no sense. It sounded like Al named a television show. Barry discarded it in favor of something he truly cared about. "And that girl you shot at the theater? Because I know that was you. Was that meant to be a trap?"

"No…" Al admitted without hesitation. He knew he wasn't making it either way. "It was a...test…"

"What!?" Barry had become even more furious. "What kind of test!? What for!? ANSWER ME!"

"For Datura," Al released a final breath before he died.

~ 0 ~

"I can't believe you did that," Iris closed the laptop between her and Belén after their series was over.

"The whole time we were watching Sense8 you were thinking about the Azalea?" Belén shot the woman a comical look.

"I'm sorry, but knowing that you plan to revive the Azalea is a bit to process!" Iris dramatically threw her hands in the air. "I mean, how are you gonna do that? The city thinks you've been dead for 6 months now."

"I have a plan," Belén promised. "I just need to pull some photos and add some theories. People love hearing theories."

Someone knocked on the open door of the room and sheepishly stepped in. "Good evening," Dr. Baeva greeted the two women politely.

"Dr. Baeva," Belén tried straightening up a bit on the bed to greet the woman but immediately regretted it. "Ow…"

"Belén, stop moving so much," Iris scolded, thinking by now Belén would've learned. She shook her head and reached for her purse sitting on the bed stand. "I should get going. Caitlin was looking after Axel but I thought him staying with me might be better for him."

"Thank you so much for looking after him," Belén couldn't stop repeating.

Iris chuckled. "Don't worry. I will be back tomorrow, okay?" she wagged a finger and Belén nodded. With a polite' goodbye' for Dr. Baeva, she left the room.

"I only just heard…" Dr. Baeva began as she made her way to Belén's side. "Dear Lord, how did this happen?"

Belén glanced at the door to see if any nurses or doctors were nearby before answering. "Apparently, it was the metahuman that attacked the Flash at the city's rally." When Iris had shared the group's belief of the culprit, Belén couldn't finish understanding what she had to do with the metahuman's problems.

"Of course," Dr. Baeva sighed lightly. "So I imagine your friends have regrouped to see you?"

"Yeah," Belén nodded. If there was one thing she could say she was happy about was that this event had pulled her friends back together. "Even Caitlin had come by, and she hasn't spoken to any of us." Dr. Baeva was glad to hear of it. Belén hesitated to say her next thoughts, as this was not a session moment.

But, having seen her for six months, three times a week, had allowed Dr. Baeva to pick up when Belén was keeping things back. "You know, despite it not being technically a session, I am still bound by my patient's confidentiality contract." Belén's eyes drifted away, even more willing to speak. "I could ask how you're doing and probably annoy you with the question I'm sure you have heard plenty for today."

"I have," Belén mumbled and sighed. "I'm confused," she began. Dr. Baeva smiled to herself and took a seat where Iris had been. "Barry came by...and he actually talked to me. Like...sentences, thoughts...feelings," she added very quietly.

"Oh, and that's not good?" Dr. Baeva crossed a leg, looking like this was her office and Belén was visiting on her usual schedule.

"No, yeah, it...it was," Belén nodded. "See, yesterday I actually visited him...while he was...asleep-" she had to leave it at that and not mention his other identity, "-and I said goodbye. I went there thinking that I could let go of him." She swallowed hard, letting a couple of seconds passed by before she spoke again. "But then he came in today - actually Iris says he stayed the night and morning - and he talked, he explained...and he asked for a second chance."

Dr. Baeva didn't look too surprised it had happened in this way given the circumstances. Belén looked distraught with her confusion. "What exactly did you say?" she inquired from the metahuman.

"That I needed to think," Belén answered shyly. "I-I couldn't see myself saying 'yeah, Barry, let's just get back together like nothing ever happened'. It's not fair."

"So…you didn't say 'yes' because you didn't think it's fair?" Dr. Baeva asked plainly, but Belén took it a different way.

"Not like that! I mean…" Belén shut her eyes for a moment.

"You know I am not here to judge you," Dr. Baeva reminded when she felt like Belén was hesitating to speak again. "I simply review what you said."

"I don't think it's fair that after six months of ignoring me he comes back asking to be taken back," Belén said it loud and clear. That was what she felt, and if it was wrong then so be it.

"So then you're still mad about your breakup?"

"I think so, yeah," Belén admitted with a nod of her head.

"Okay, now do you think there is a chance that...you could accept a new relationship with Barry ever again?"

"...I want to," Belén also found herself admitting. "I do want to, but...but I don't...I don't want things to be like they used to."

Dr. Baeva tilted her head, trying to understand what that meant. "How do you mean 'like they used to be'?"

"Exactly what I said. You pointed out that I felt dependent on Barry for my well being, and I don't want that anymore," Belén shook her head. "Six months I tried getting rid of that, and I feel like I've done a good job."

"Belén, is it possible that perhaps you're primarily rejecting the idea of getting back together because you are afraid that your independant development will unravel?"

Belén looked down, only taking a moment to realize the answer was yes. "I do want to be with him...but not like before. I don't want him to always want to protect me."

"I think you are doing very well, Belén," Dr. Baeva genuinely smiled. "Six months ago you came to me wishing nothing but to get things back the way they used to be. Now you want to change for your benefit. But just remember, wanting to be with a man does not mean you are relinquishing your independence. You are human, Belén, and humans long to be with someone whether it's friends or family, or someone intimate. It's okay to want to be with someone. And it's also okay to let them try to protect you."

"Is it?" Belén asked with heavy doubt.

"Of course. Just because someone who cares about you tried to protect you doesn't mean you are suddenly dependent on them. It means they care for you that much. It's human nature to want to protect those we care about, no matter what our relationships are."

A warm smile spread across Belén's face. "Thank you, Dr. Baeva. I needed to hear that," she admitted. The psychologist smiled back, glad she had once again helped the metahuman.

Belén had her company leave after an hour or so, and she went back to Netflix. Nina came in when she could to see how she was doing, or sometimes just to chat. It was late when she had company again, but it still warmed her heart that he would come back despite her words.

"Hey," Barry walked in holding a small card by the looks of it.

"Hi," she greeted quietly.

"I'm only here to visit again," he raised his free hand in a solemn swear. Belén had to laugh. "And Axel made sure that I would give you this." He held out the closed card for her.

With her good arm, Belén took it and opened it with her fingers. Inside was nothing but scribbles with a prominent big round face with lines for eyes and a smile. "Axel," Belén had to laugh again.

"He's fine for tonight," Barry promised. "Iris knew just how to put him to sleep."

"Thank you," Belén said seriously.

"And listen, I came to tell you that the metahuman that did this to you is gone. He's not hurting you again."

"I don't understand why he wanted to hurt me in the first place."

Barry sighed, frustrated neither he nor the group could figure it out. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out. I promise you."

Belén felt her stomach churn in that way it almost always did with him. Yeah, she missed that.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Barry dug into his jean's pocket, "Axel gave me a toy to go with that-" he pointed at the card, "-think it was a bouncy ball or something."

"Aw," Belén said, "He gave me his bouncy ball? He loves that thing."

Barry laughed as he finally pulled out the blue and white bouncy ball from his pocket. As he did, Belén heard a clang hit the floor.

"What's that?" she took the bouncy ball and tried peering over the bed.

Barry saw it was the white USB Wells' attorney gave him earlier in the day. "Ah, it's uh…" he quickly ventured to pick it up.

"Um, doesn't look like it's nothing," Belén observed his rash behavior.

Barry sighed, agreeing with her. "Apparently, in case of his death, Wells had some kind of a living will."

"So what is that thing, then?" Belén eyed the USB even more curiously.

"I haven't watched it," Barry confessed.

"What? Why? Don't you wanna know what he says?"

"I've... been too afraid, honestly…"

Belén could adhere to that. She glanced at the bed stand on her other side and cleared her throat. "We could, uh...maybe watch it...together?"

Barry's eyes widened. "You would?"

Belén smiled softly. "Of course. I am still your friend."

Although the thought that perhaps it was all they would be from now on, Barry was still admittedly happy she wasn't flatout getting him out of her life.

He got up from his chair and went around the bed to retrieve Belén's laptop. She tried picking it up with one hand before he flatout told her absolutely not. After putting the USB in, he settled it between them two and prepared to see what Wells had left for them.

"Hello, Barry. If you're watching this, that means something has gone horribly wrong," Wells began in video. "I'm dead and the last 15 years have been for nothing. Bummer. 15 years. You know, when I realize that in all those years helping raise you, we were never truly enemies, Barry. I'm not the thing you hate."

"He is really that sadistic," Belén couldn't get believe it. Barry could. He stared at the screen with all the hatred he could ever muster.

"And so, I want to give you the thing that you want most. It won't matter," the video-Wells shook his head, apparently it was funny to him, "You'll never be truly happy, Barry Allen, trust me. I know you. Now...erase everything I said up to this point. Give the following message to the police. My name is Harrison Wells. Being of sound mind and body, I freely confess to the murder of Nora Allen. In her home, on the night of March 18th, in the year 2000. I attacked Nora Allen in her dining room…"

"Oh my God," Belén was speechless. She looked at Barry for his reaction but even he couldn't muster words.

"I stabbed her in the chest with a large butcher knife...

"He confessed," she reached for Barry's arm, gently nudging him. "He actually confessed."

Barry set loose a small laugh as he turned on his chair. "This is it. This is what I need to free my dad!"

"Then go!" Belén shooed him with one hand.

"Caitlin said she would be staying with you-" Barry slowly rose from his chair, of course wanting to speed back to the police station but he didn't want to leave Belén alone either.

"I will be fine! Go!" Belén insisted.

Barry was still unsure as be glanced between her and the open door.

Belén groaned. "Let's make a deal, then. You can go but in return you have to let me write that killer article every journalist in the city is gonna be dying to write about this case."

Barry had to laugh again. "Okay, you got it."

Belén smiled and once again shooed him away. "Go!"

This time he obeyed and hurried out of the room. Belén laughed and settled back on her bed, happy to see that something amazing had finally happened in the city after so much.

Author's Note:

Also, I've been meaning to find a name for all of Belén's stories (like I've named my Doctor Who stories) so if anyone has any ideas, please let me know!!

[loose-cannon-aka-mark-barber]

Knowing that in a single rotation of the earth there is more human experience than I could ever understand in a lifetime…..makes me feel so small.

More Than 1,000 Holocaust Victims Are Buried In Belarus After Mass Grave Discovered

Whatever it is that your doing is keeping your attention, you are all about it and what will come from it is what you put into it. Whatever you are doing right now is what one out of 7,769,429,045 people is doing, whatever it is.

Now stop and think about whatever those other 7,769,430,810 people are doing (notice the number change? that’s how fast the population changed)

More than 1,000 victims of the Holocaust were buried Wednesday in Belarus, some 70 years after they were killed in the genocide.

Their bones were unearthed this winter by construction workers as they began to build luxury apartments in the southwestern city of Brest, near Poland. Soldiers brought in to excavate found undisputed evidence of a mass grave: skulls with bullet holes, shoes and tattered clothing worn on the last day of people’s lives. Because the newly uncovered mass grave was on the site of a wartime ghetto, the victims were believed to be Jews slaughtered by Nazis. Many Jewish people had been forced to live behind barbed wires in the Brest ghetto before they were executed.

On May 22, 2019 it was reported that their remains were placed into 120 coffins decorated with the Star of David, according to The Associated Press. A burial and ceremony was held at a cemetery outside of the city.

World Jewish Congress CEO and Executive Vice President Robert Singer said “Belarus had a robust Jewish community before World War II, but almost 90% of that population was killed by the time the Holocaust ended.” according to the World Jewish Congress.

So much goes into life, just trying to keep it takes a lot of energy.

In the decades since the genocide, the city of Brest has faced accusations of callousness toward its Jewish population. A prominent synagogue saw a movie theater built over it. Other synagogues were converted into shops, schools, hospitals, offices and gyms. Jewish gravestones were “recycled” for roads, gardens and other purposes, according to Vice, and Brest’s Holocaust museum comprised “a room in a basement,” according to the BBC.

The rebuttal

A spokesperson from the construction company told Deutsche Welle that a square meter (10.76 square feet) for the high-end complex was selling for almost double the city’s average, at about $1,250 by the end of 2018.

Money, still about money. The mayor’s office said the building will very likely possess a plaque to remember the victims.

These inscriptions aren’t so uncommon, said Drimer, wearily. He returned to his hometown of Drohobycz about 70 years after the war. He said he saw a bus station with a small plaque to denote where Holocaust victims had once been buried. “It wasn’t unusual,” he said. And though survivors like Drimer found it disturbing, “there weren’t enough Jews to say anything.”

7,769,432,632 souls are causing action and they are reacting at the same time all at once, even the infants and the dying. Now think about all that is happening around the world right now, wrap your head around everything. Mother Earth doesn’t need us to keep revolving, that is proven every day, just count the graves as you pass a cemetery or read the small plaques on the cornerstones. the simple things like a shared meal or a look of understanding passed between two people without a word spoken can not be beaten. The relationships we form throughout our lives should always be treasured.

Loose Cannon

[phroyd]

The star, whose career spanned more than five decades, played matriarch Jessica Tate on Billy Crystal’s primetime soap sitcom, aptly titled “Soap,” which ran from 1977 to 1981. She nabbed four actress Emmy nominations for the role. Helmond portrayed another famous mom, saucy Mona Robinson, in another ABC hit series, “Who’s the Boss?” (1984–1992). The role landed her two supporting actress Emmy noms.

Born on Galveston Island in Texas on July 5, 1929, Katherine Marie Helmond was the only child of Joseph and Thelma Helmond. Her father was a fireman and her mother a housewife. Her parents divorced a few years after she was born, and she was raised in a strict Roman Catholic tradition by her mother and grandmother.

In addition to her TV work, the veteran actress also took Broadway by storm. She won a Tony in 1973 for her performance in Eugene O’Neill’s “The Great God Brown.” She also appeared in the plays “Private Lives,” “Don Juan,” and “Mixed Emotions.”

On the film front, Helmond was a regular collaborator of Monty Python director Terry Gilliam, starring in three of his films, namely “Time Bandits” (1981), “Brazil” (1985), and “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” (1998). Helmond’s casting in “Time Bandits” wasn’t exactly conventional, as she got the part only after Gilliam’s original choice for the role, Ruth Gordon, broke her leg while shooting a Clint Eastwood movie.

In “Brazil,” Helmond played the cosmetic surgery-addicted mother to Jonathan Pryce’s central character. Gilliam is said to have called her up to offer her the part, saying, “I have a part for you, and I want you to come over and do it, but you’re not going to look very nice in it.” Sure enough, she spent several hours a day with her face covered in a mask, which caused her to develop blisters.

Despite many difficult times on set, Helmond “never fell out of love” with acting.

“I felt I blossomed as a person when I got a chance to act,” she said. “It’s been like an incredible marriage that really worked. I enjoyed every minute of it.”

Her other major films include a gravestone-kicking character in Alfred Hitchcock’s “Family Plot” (1976), and the haughty Edith Mintz, who at one point threatens to castrate the main character played by Edward Herrmann, in Garry Marshall’s “Overboard” (1987). More recently, Helmond voiced the Ford Model T Lizzie in Disney/Pixar’s three “Cars” films.

Her “Who’s the Boss?” co-star Judith Light described Helmond as a “gift to our business and to the world” in a statement.

“Katherine Helmond was a remarkable human being and an extraordinary artist; generous, gracious, charming, and profoundly funny,” Light said. “She taught me so much about life and inspired me indelibly by watching her work. Katherine was a gift to our business and to the world, and will be deeply missed.”

“Katherine Helmond has passed away. My beautiful, kind, funny, gracious, compassionate, rock. You were an instrumental part of my life. You taught me to hold my head above the marsh! You taught me to do anything for a laugh! What an example you were! Rest In Peace, Katherine,” Milano tweeted.

Helmond is survived by her husband, David Christian, who said the following after her death was announced:

“She was the love of my life,” Christian said. “We spent 57 beautiful, wonderful, loving years together, which I will treasure forever. I’ve been with Katherine since I was 19 years old. The night she died, I saw that the moon was exactly half-full, just as I am now … half of what I’ve been my entire adult life.”

Phroyd

[thejacketandthehook]

Before Dawn 4/?

Title: Before Dawn

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary:  Emma Swan and Killian Jones only had one thing in common: Emma’s best friend and Killian’s brother were dating. But Emma and Killian could not get along. That was, until the day they had to work together through a tragedy that no one saw coming.

Rating: General (but that will change to Mature in later chapters)

Word Count: 6529

Disclaimers: I own absolutely nothing.

Author’s Notes:  So, I’ve been in the mist of writing this particular story for almost two years. And I’m hoping that if I have support, I’ll be more motivated to finish it. So my story is based off of the movie “Life As We Know It” starring Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel. And below is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

You can also read it here: A03

@searchingwardrobes

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The funeral was exhausting, to say the least.

Being Liam's only surviving relative, Killian had a lot of the work to do. That didn't mean that Emma didn't pinch in where she could, but she was focusing more on Henry. That didn't stop her from ordering the catering ("Why do we need to feed people, Emma, it makes no sense. Can't they just say they're sorry and leave us alone?"), to making sure that Killian and Henry had proper attire, to even checking over that both Liam and Elsa's plots were ready for them. That's not even including the gravestones, which Killian and Emma agreed should say their names, their lifespan, and  "Beloved mother, father, and friends" under their names.

But what Killian hated the most was the entertaining. It made no sense to him, something he kept commenting to Emma, who he was sure stopped listening to him. He just wanted to drink his rum and sit in misery for five minutes without all these people walking around Liam's house, commenting on how sorry they were. Oh, and Henry? How was the poor lad doing?

That made Killian want to scream all the more. Henry was fourteen months old, he had no bloody idea what in hell was going on right now. Or maybe he did, if his screaming at three o'clock in the morning was any indication.

"Killian," he heard someone say behind him. He would have groaned because he just found a nice quiet spot that had no mourners, babies, or feisty new roommates. But he knew that voice.

Turning around, Killian let out a breath. "Robin," he sighed before the two hugged. Robin Locksley, Killian's friend from college, and besides Liam, his best friend, patted him on the back before they parted.

"I am so sorry, mate. So sorry for your lost. If there's anything I can do..."

"I know, mate. I know. It's just...A lot to take in right now."

"Of course." They were silent before Robin cleared his throat. "Um, I heard something about a baby..."

Killian nodded. "Yep. I have a child now."

Robin's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Hook, oh man. That's...."

He didn't know how to finish that, but that was okay. Killian knew what he was trying to say. "I know."

"So what are you going to do?"

Killian shrugged. "Well, right now, we're gonna keep living here until we can figure out--"

Robin closed his eyes and held up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait." Opening his eyes and dropping his hand, he said, "What do you mean 'we'?"

Killian rubbed the back of his neck before dropping his hand. "You didn't hear the rest of it? Oh, mate, have I got a story for you."

While Killian was telling Robin about the latest development that was his life, Emma overheard people talking about how awful this all was and how was Henry going to grow up without his parents. Living in a house with two strange people would be so weird for him. He would surely need some kind of therapy.

Emma was holding onto the plate so tightly she was surprised it didn't snap under the pressure. She sure felt like she was going to need therapy, just listening to these people who barely knew Henry and wouldn't be able to pick him out in a lineup of babies.

"Emma?"

She turned around to see her boss, Graham Hubert, looking down at her with that damn pity in his eyes.

Graham was a nice man, and one that she really didn't mind working with. God knows that the crimes in Storybrooke are minute at best, but he did have a way of making the boring interesting. And normally she wouldn't mind spending time with him.

But right now, right now she didn't need to see the tears in his eyes. Because Graham was someone who made her laugh. He shouldn't be crying. It's not what he does.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. Really I am. I--If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know."

"I...Yeah...Thanks."

Quickly turning around, Emma started heading towards the kitchen, the plate still barely holding it together in her hands.

When she stopped to lean against the wall for a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see Mary Margaret standing behind her, David just a little to the side. Mary Margaret gently took the plate out of Emma's hands and did something with it, Emma wasn't sure. Mary Margaret said something to David, Emma had no idea what, but the next thing she knew she was being guided to her bedroom.

"Henry..." Emma started to say as Mary Margaret closed the door.

"Is safe with David. He's fine." The petite woman turned to Emma. "My concern right now is how are you doing. You don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

Mary Margaret gave a sad smile. It was clear she didn't believe Emma. "How about we try this again. I'm going to ask you how you are and you'll give me an actual answer, okay? Now, how are you?"

Emma didn't answer. That said everything.

Mary Margaret wobbled over to Emma and sat beside her on the bed.  "I know I don't know you too well, Emma, but I do know a lost soul when I see one." She was quiet for a moment. Emma did nothing to fill the silence. Mary Margaret spoke up again. "I have no idea what you are going through. I won't pretend that I do. I've lost my parents, that is true, but I never had the added responsibility of another life on top of it. That, I think, is the hardest part in all of this. That now you suddenly have Henry. It's not just you anymore, huh? Now you have another mouth to feed. Another's interest at heart. That must feel overwhelming." Once more, Emma said nothing.

She didn't know what Mary Margaret expected. Emma wasn't the talk-about-your-feelings type, and even less so with people she'd had met only a handful of times before. Mary Margaret was always nice to her, that was true, long before any of this was happening. But Emma was a closed off person, only confiding her personal thoughts to one person.

And now that person is gone.

But Emma couldn't think about that. She had to be strong for Henry. She could carry on. For him. God knew it was going to be tough, but she had to be strong. She just had to be.

Bringing her back into the present, Mary Margaret was gently rubbing her shoulder. She didn't like to be touched, and normally would have shrugged it off, but it felt...comforting. Sure she had gotten a lot of hugs today (mostly from Anna, but those was hugs of sadness, not comfort). But Mary Margaret's touch was almost...Well, if Emma didn't know any better she would have said it was the touch of a mother. Never really having had a mother, she had nothing to compare it to, however.

After a moment, there was a knock on the door and David poked his head in, a crying Henry on his hip. "I so sorry, I don't mean to bother you. But he's crying, and I can't find Killian--"

Emma immediately stood up and reached out for Henry. "It's fine. Really." Taking him into her arms, she held him closely, her mouth at the crown of his head. "Could you guys leave us for a moment? I just need to regroup before heading back out."

Mary Margaret nodded before slowly getting up. As she reached the door, she turned back and said, "Emma, please listen. I know we don't know each other too well, but...We can help. Please let us help you and Killian."

Emma nodded, hugging Henry a little tighter. He wasn't crying anymore, which probably meant he just needed to be away from the crowd for a while. You and me both, kid.

Mary Margaret and David left, closing the door behind him. Emma sat down on her bed and sobbed quietly into Henry's soft brown hair.

~*~

The wake was painful, but it was finally over and Killian and Emma could finally move on with their lives.

Or so they thought.

Two weeks after the funeral, Killian thought he was going to pull his hair out. Henry wouldn't stop crying and Emma was ignoring Killian every chance she got. It wasn't at all what he pictured when he thought of having a family.

Which we're not, he reminded himself as Emma almost screamed at Henry when he spit out his mashed peas. Not that Killian could blame him; that smelt like shit, God knows what it tasted like. Instead of asking Killian for assistance or even just acknowledging that he was in the same room, Emma tried once more to get Henry to eat the mashed peas.

"Come on, Henry, just eat a little. I swear I'll get you all the chocolate you want, if you just eat a little of the peas..."

But once more, he spit them out, crying because he was hungry and the peas tasted awful.

"He doesn't want them, Swan," Killian finally had to point out, though that much was obvious.

"Well, he has to eat something and it's either this or smashed squash."

Killian looked around the kitchen, trying to figure out what he could give Henry before Emma completely lost her mind. Finally seeing something, he grabbed the tin of apple and banana flavored puffs and poured them out on the tray in front of Henry.

Henry looked down at them, his crying stopping instantly. He grabbed one with one chubby hand and put it in his mouth and smiled.

Emma looked up at Killian. He didn't know if she was thankful for that or if she wanted to kill him, making him eat something he wasn't supposed to. Either way, it got them a few minutes of quiet, and right now that was enough for him.

"You're welcome," he said before putting the tin on the table and walking towards the living room.  

He was sure that Emma was mad at him; wouldn't be the first time he felt those icy green eyes in his direction. But he couldn't just let Henry scream when a simple change in his diet would be all that he needed. He wasn't going to die from eating those puffs. He knew eventually Emma would thank him, though he knew better than to hold his breath.

He just got comfortable on the couch when the doorbell rang. Groaning with frustration, Killian got up and opened the door to find a pretty brunette on the other side. She was shorter than Killian, even though she was in heels, with a soft face and big blue eyes.

"Hello!" she said with an accent, though he wasn't sure where in Europe she was from. "I'm Belle Gold. I'm from the Child Protective Services. I'm here to talk about Henry Jones."

Killian almost slammed the door in her face. Oh crap. He forgot all about this. Child Protective Services wanted to make sure that Emma and he were doing a good job raising Henry, otherwise there were going to take him away from them. Liam's lawyer had mentioned that part, Killian was sure of it. However, he was so dazed with the idea that he suddenly became like a father-figure to Henry that he didn't really retain any of it.

He suddenly couldn't remember if he (because let's be honest, Emma was not a neat person) cleaned up recently. It had been weeks since anyone was over, and he suddenly couldn't remember if he put away Henry's toys. Or where they scattered all over the floor, waiting for someone to trip over them?

"Er, Mr. Jones? Are you okay?"

Shaking his head lightly, Killian gave a fake smile. "Aye. Of course. Where are my manners? Come in, please."

He suddenly felt like a high schooler sent to the headmaster's office (a feeling that he hasn't felt in a long time) and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he or Emma did something they weren't suppose to do, like drink excessive amounts of alcohol or smoke something illegally. Other than a bit of a mess, they were fine.

"Killian? Who is--Oh. Hello." Emma came into the hallway, Henry on her hip. He was munching on something, and Killian was pretty sure it was Emma's hair.

Belle turned to Emma. "Ah, you must be Ms. Swan."

"I am," Emma said hesitantly, looking at Killian before looking back at Belle.

"I'm Belle Gold from Child Protective Services."

"Oh! We, er, we weren't expecting you."

Belle gave a small chuckle. "That's why we call them surprise visits!"

"Oh. Right, yes, of course. Um, so..." Emma obviously didn't know where to begin, and Killian felt so nervous all of a sudden. He was terrified that she would find something wrong with them and take Henry away. Henry was the only thing he had left of his brother; they couldn't take him away too!

Belle must have noticed the look on their faces because she smiled softly and suggested, "Why don't we start with a look around the house, shall we?"

"Yes!" Killian shouted, making Emma give a small jump. "Excellent idea, wonderful. Why don't I do that? Come, I'll show you around."

Killian was working on automatic, not really sure what was coming out of his mouth. He showed her the first floor, that contained the kitchen, living room, dining room, a bathroom, and what Liam had referred to as his "man cave," which overlooked the spacious backyard and had a pull out bed couch and a television in it, along with the books he loved. This was the room he was sleeping in, and Killian was thankful that he put his clothes away yesterday.

The second floor had the bedrooms, which was the master suite (neither of which Emma or Killian had set foot in), the guest room (which was where Emma was sleeping), a bathroom, and Henry's room. Everything looked neat, yet a tad bit messy. Obvious that people lived there but it wasn't a disaster. Killian was satisfied.

When they came back into the living room, Emma was playing with Henry on the floor, pressing buttons from some toy that Killian actually gave him for his first birthday. He wanted to find the most annoying toy, the toy that played a thousand different noises and talked all day. Well, of course it was now Killian who was stuck with it.

Karma really was a bitch.

Emma looked up as Killian and Belle walked in. Killian could tell that Emma had no idea what that toy did that she was currently playing with. Probably just wanted to look busy for when they returned.

"Now, Ms. Swan, Mr. Jones, if you could both join me at the table, I would love to have a conversation with you."

Belle got situated on one side of the table and Emma, carrying Henry, and Killian on the other. They sat with some distance apart, which Killian didn't take notice of until later.

"Now," Belle said, taking out a pad of legal paper and a pen. She clicked the top. "If you could please tell me a little about yourself." They were both silent. Belle sighed. "I'm not the bad guy here."

"You might as well be," Emma muttered darkly.

Belle put her pen down with a sigh. "Look, I have to report facts, that's all. If you want the truth, right now I see nothing wrong with Henry and his life here. He's well taken care of, I could see that the moment you walked in before, Ms. Swan. But I do need some background information on the two of you. If it makes you feel any better, I'm just checking to see if you are prostitutes or drug dealers."

"I'm the Deputy Sheriff," Emma stated. Belle nodded and picked up her pen, writing it down. "I, er, work with Graham Humbert, the Sheriff."

"Is that a dangerous job, Ms. Swan?"

"If I lived in New York, then yeah. But here? In Storybrooke, where the biggest crime is a petty robbery? No, not too dangerous."

"Do you work nights?"

"Occasionally."

Belle wrote that all down. Killian noted that Emma was holding onto Henry tightly and gave a small smile. The Queen Bitch had emotions after all. Except for the night of the accident, Emma hasn't shed one tear that Killian has seen. Granted, he didn't like crying in front of people, and often let his feelings about this whole situation out at night. But still. Not one tear? He wondered how high those walls of hers were.

"And you Mr. Jones? What do you do?"

"I'm a mechanic. At the docks. I fix the boats."

Emma snapped her head looking at him. "I thought you were a bartender?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "I was. Four years ago. Now I'm mechanic."

Emma went to comment, but instead bit her lip. She faced Belle again.

"Great. Now, one more question before I go. This is a bit awkward, so please bare with me. This...situation is more complicated than usual. Usually in a situation like this, the people who get the custody of a child are family members." She put up a hand when Killian opened his mouth. "I'm aware that you Liam Jones' brother, Mr. Jones. My point is this: people who get custody of a child usually are in some form of relationship. Now if I understand this correctly, except for the fact that your brother," she said looking at Killian. "And your best friend," she turned to Emma, "were married, you have no connection between the two of you, correct?"

"Er, well, yes," Emma stated.

"That's correct," Killian added.

"Now, this is the embarrassing part." She took a deep breath. "Are you two sleeping together?"

"What?! No!" Emma shouted.

"Absolutely not!" Killian yelled.

Belle held up her hands. "I'm sorry. I just had to check. Do either of you have romantic or...well, lustful feelings for the other?"

"No!" Killian yelled again.

"Why are you asking these questions?"

"Because, Ms. Swan, sex makes things complicated. Even when you're not having it, it's complicated. What we want is to make sure that Henry stays away from such complications. Let's face it, his life has not been easy and he's barely begun. I noticed that when I came in here, things were....well, cool between the two of you. Not in a bad sense," she rushed to say when Emma and Killian looked at each other. "But more in the sense that perhaps you two are a bit over your heads." She closed her pad with a loud snap, making both Emma and Killian jump. "If you two don't have any more questions, I'll see you soon."

"How many more times do you come to visit us?" Killian asked as they stood up.

"Two more times. The last one is when I decide if you two are a good for Henry. That's usually by the end of the first year. Bye! Nice meeting you!"

Without being escorted out, Belle walked out of their kitchen and the house. For the time being.

Emma leaned forward, one elbow down on the table, hand rubbing her head as Killian scratched the back of his head. She took a deep breath before saying, "Well, that's over with."

Killian nodded. "Yep."

They were silent before Emma blurted, "Did she need to know about our relationship? Seems a bit personal to me."

"She needs to know that we're a good match for Henry. Remember, that's what's important."

"Of course I know that!" she snapped.

He gave a sad chuckle. "And I wondered why she thought we were cold to each other. We must have looked miserable in her eyes!"

"Oh, shut it, Jones," Emma growled before storming away.

It was Killian's turn to lean on the table. "Cool, indeed."

[leta-the-strange]

A far too long, fever-induced Unpopular Opinion, likely first of many, (keeping in mind that is it an opinion and not expressed at all in mean spirit): The casting/character ages in Fantastic Beasts.

Again, this is likely a wildly unpopular opinion because I’ve never come across anyone who has even touched slightly on the subject, but it is an, admittedly minor, detail that got me thinking a little. Again, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter a great deal and I’m sure I’m still going to enjoy the series either way but it’s just a personal opinion I’ve had nonetheless.

I do understand the organic nature of film and the flexibility you need to allow. Sometimes the character will be pitched or imagined as a certain age, but it doesn’t translate into film well (think LOTR or GOT, etc) or the casting directors like an actor who is obviously much younger or older so much that it trumps the desired age bracket. And most times, it is purposely done that way especially in teen-based movies and tv shows (90210, Smallville, Gossip Girl, PLL, etc, etc) which lead to wildly inaccurate expectations of what teenagers look and act like (in my high school experience anyway). Sometimes for legal and professional reasons, its more convenient to have adult actors portray younger characters. 

Often pre-imagined characters evolve and change to fit the actor that is set to portray them whether it be gender, race, age, hair colour, eye colour, relationships, characterisation, etc. Sometimes this is celebrated, goes unnoticed or is a disappointment.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I understand that it comes down to a matter of priorities.

Neville, Petunia and Dudley were all blondes in the books. Did it really matter that the actors weren’t (and didn’t dye their hair for the role?) IMO, nah not really. I know a lot of people still can’t forgive the ‘you have your mothers eyes’ issue. I can. Partially. Personally, I didn’t mind Harry’s signature “green as a fresh pickled toad” eyes being blue in the film because Daniel Radcliffe couldn’t wear the contacts. Only auditioning actors with green eyes, the rarest eye colour on the planet, would exclude a lot of talented actors and potentially perfect Harry’s. I don’t believe green eyes were essential to Harry’s character (but I can’t speak for everyone), I think there were more important qualities. Geraldine Somerville, who played the older Lily Potter, also had blue eyes. But then, after making a huge deal over Harry having his mothers’ eyes, they cast young Lily, with whom they do close up, full face scenes of, with big brown eyes. I’m not saying she didn’t do an excellent job – she did wonderfully. I suppose it was just a strange decision in the eyes (pun not intended) of a lot of fans that the casting of a two or so minute role precluded what seemed to be such an integral theme that had been woven through each book and movie so frequently. This is just an example of the questionable, dare I say for lack of a better word ‘lazy’, ‘just imagine for the sake of the plot that he/she…’ attitude that I get from HP/FB at times.

Getting back on the topic of age, one thing I did have a problem with in HP was James and Lily’s age. I don’t think I’m entirely alone in this. 21 seemed old when I was a wee one reading Harry Potter for the first time. It was only when I got older that I realised how young they were and how it added quite fundamentally to the tragedy of their short life and death. It was heartbreaking either way, don’t get me wrong, but seeing (an actual 21-year-old actor portraying) a 21-year-old young mother slain in the first flashback in Philosophers Stone would have been truly shocking. It would also add to the tragic aftermaths of Sirius and Remus too. However, I did later realise that this was probably due to having to match Alan Rickman’s casting as Snape, and later, Gary Oldman and David Thewlis (which I think were all fantastic in their roles). So, they sacrificed the canonical age of James and Lily for the casting of Snape and the Marauders (possibly). Whether this was something the fans agree or not, they prioritised what was most important, in their eyes, to the film. But then, after all of that, for some reason they keep James and Lily’s age of death as 21 on their gravestone??? Therefore, casting two barely-speaking roles to a 43 and 34-year-old who they expect the film going audience to believe are 21??? I assumed that when they did the full casting and knew that Alan Rickman, Gary Oldman and David Thewlis would look far too old for their long-deceased classmate counterparts they would just make the characters older in the films but now I think they wanted to keep film Snape, Remus and Sirius in their early to mid (and eventually late, by the end of the books) thirties and didn’t want it to look painfully obvious. I think a lot of films and tv shows do this to try and pull off the age differences. A 27-year-old actor portraying a ‘high school student’ can often pull it off until you stick them next to a real life 15-year-old. I like to believe it’s that or something other than lazy writing but I can’t know for sure. 

This brings us to my current thoughts about Fantastic Beasts which has some of the most wildly strange actor vs character casting age I’ve seen in some time. As a quick refresher (or if you don’t know…) here are the actors ages vs what their characters age is (if I’m not mistaken)...

 Eddie Redmayne - 36 / Newt Scamander – 29

Zoë Kravitz – 29 / Leta Lestrange - 29 (probably given that she was in the same year as Newt)

Ezra Miller – 26 / Credence Barebone - 18 (from an interview but still unconfirmed from filmmakers)

Katherine Waterston – 38 / Porpentina Goldstein - 25

Alison Sudol – 33 / Queenie Goldstein – early 20’s/hopefully not late teens (she’s younger than her 25-year-old sister so 24 at the absolute most but I’d say younger given the dynamic). I haven’t found a confirmed age anywhere.   

Dan Fogler – 42 / Jacob Kowalski – 26

Callum Turner – 28 / Theseus Scamander – 37

 Try and keep in mind that there is no mean spirit intended in my opinion on this. My opinion on the acting ability of each of these people isn’t necessarily relevant to this particular discussion though I do commend actors who can convincingly pull off different ages though I certainly can’t fault actors who can’t as there is only so much you can do sometimes. This is purely about what is most important – character or actor – and the relevance of it.

Eddie Redmayne, in my opinion, seems to have features that allow him quite an amount of leeway in terms of age. He starred in the mini series based off one of my favourite books, Pillars of the Earth (definitely an underrated series I heartily recommended) where he portrays his character as a teen all the way up to a man in his forties/fifties and, in my opinion, is quite believable. I think I have more trouble believing that Eddie Redmayne is 36 than I do believing Newt Scamander is 29/30 (as his birthday is in February, I’m assuming he is 30 during Crimes of Grindelwald) and even if that weren’t the case, I think a six-year difference at those ages can be neither here nor there with some people especially with the right clothes, mannerisms, etc...

Zoë Kravitz – hold on to your hats, a 29-year-old playing a 29-year-old. I haven’t done my in-depth research on the other actors not aforementioned, but I believe this may be the only occurrence of this happening in this film series.

Ezra Miller said that Credence was 18 in an interview. This is probably true, and I would’ve guessed around that age anyway. I think I double checked it on the characters wiki and it matched. As a side note, as a general rule I don’t tend to take the actors words as gospel truth until its confirmed by the writer or director. I feel like, in this film series, there are some actors that get maybe somewhat carried away and speculate rather a lot about their character and sometimes it isn’t entirely accurate. Of course, actors are usually allowed some creative control over their characters and often get little titbits about their past/future that help with their portrayal, but I have noticed some actors’ thoughts about their character don’t add up at all to what the filmmakers have also said and I know which side wins out. A lot of actors are shocked/surprised/disappointed/elated when they find out developments about their character - not even they always know what’s around the corner and sometimes what they think isn’t necessarily true. No matter how deserving, creative or insightful they are about their character, it doesn’t solely belong to them. I think a lot of fans forget this. They go on about ‘so and so said this’ and ‘so and so literally said…’ while blatantly disregarding anything J.K or the FB filmmakers say and again, I know which ones actually run the show. This has nothing to do with Ezra, to be honest, it’s just a quick observation I’ve noticed.  I’m so off topic! Anyway, Credence I would’ve put as a late teen/20-year-old at most from his character and I think Ezra has one of those faces that, like many, can float around in the weird young adolescence stage that you can can’t quite pinpoint whether they’re late teens or mid-twenties (I’m in university and pretty much anyone between 18-27ish is indistinguishable to me). Either way he’d be carded at the uni bar. I think if I met a modern-day Credence Barebone I wouldn’t think twice if he told me he was 18.

Katherine Waterston is the one I am most anxious writing about and the one I’m sure a lot of people are cocked and ready to come after me about. She’s probably also one of my two biggest irks with the age issue. Just to get this out the way, I am not the biggest Tina fan (yet). At first, it was casual indifference. I didn’t (and don’t) hate her, I just didn’t really take to her in the first film (I already have hope that the new film may sway me). It really started as simply as that. I will write a separate post on all my thoughts revolving around this because there are many. All I will say is that if you don’t love Tina or ship Newtina based on the first film, it is a very cruel and vicious fandom to be part of. At least in my experience. But that’s a different issue. Let me say firstly that I think Katherine Waterston is very beautiful and I would be happy to look like that at 38 (obviously not the same as she is very Caucasian and I’m a nut-brown Maori, but you get my point). Obviously, I don’t know how the story will unravel and how important it is but was it absolutely necessary that Tina had to be 25? I think 30 would have been passable. Or even better, she could’ve been a little (or however much) older than Newt? Normalising relationships where the woman is older than the man is something I’m here for (my sister is two years older than her boyfriend – 19 and 21 – and it’s so controversial to people??? But I know lots of relationships in the reversal). That would’ve been my ideal scenario if they had Tina originally set for 25 but discovered they really loved Katherine Waterston and decided it would be inconsequential if they wrote Tina a bit older than originally planned. However, I do think it might be the other way around. Maybe it is important that Tina is 25. This might be one of the reasons why I haven’t yet meshed with this character or either of the Goldsteins for that matter. I do admit that I forget that they are in their early and mid-twenties. I do forget that Tina is (apparently) only 25. I honestly believe that I would have liked – or at least had a lot more understanding and sympathy – for Tina’s character had it been obvious she was so young. I will explain more thoroughly in the separate post I’ll eventually write that, had FB been a book before a movie, I would likely have really enjoyed book!Tina. Please understand this particular opinion isn’t about the actor. I’m just saying that I, personally, feel like it was easy to lose sight of the fact that this character is only 25 when the actor playing her is nearly forty years old. Please don’t twist this and interpret it to being me ‘coming after’ the actor. I don’t know why age is regarded as such an insult. It’s the most beautiful, natural thing. Katherine Waterston is 38. There’s nothing wrong with that. She’s healthy and pretty and could easily pass for younger if she so desired. But again, I think sometimes why I don’t find Tina endearing at all (yet) is because I see (not in terms of the actor, the character) a 38-year-old (or round about) woman acting like a 25-year-old. This might be even harder for me to combat in the next film as she is supposed to be quite younger than newcomers Theseus and Leta (ridiculously younger than Theseus) whose actors are both twenty-somethings joining Ezra as the babies of the cast. Don’t come at me about insulting her about her age. Carmen Ejogo is 45 and she cancelled everyone in FBWTFT. A lot of people grow more and more beautiful with age. Older doesn’t mean less beautiful so let’s put that to rest immediately.

Alison Sudol looks like a fucking earth angel and she was a great Queenie. I loved Queenie’s character. Did I love Queenie as a person? No. There is a difference – again, that ties in with what I’ll eventually write about my feelings about those two. I don’t know Queenie’s age, but she is younger than Tina so at the absolute most she would be 24 but I would wager given the big-little sister dynamic they seem to be following, there’s likely more than a year’s difference. I wouldn’t have thought Queenie was so young had I not known otherwise. There are some who find her character a little more annoying than cute, but I think if she were portrayed by someone who was in fact in their early twenties, she probably wouldn’t have come across as so naïve and a little airy. A lot of development occurs in your twenties and there is a tremendous amount of personal growth by the time you hit thirty. The same issue with Tina I suppose. You can forgive a lot of Queenie’s quirks when you remember how young she is but sometimes it’s easy to forget when physically she seems older. I will have to keep in mind how young and impressionable she is still while watching her actions in Crimes of Grindelwald because again, I think I forget sometimes.

I had no idea how old Jacob was, admittedly. I guessed anywhere between 32-40 (I assumed Jacob and Queenie had a bit of an age gap either way) but I was way off. Apparently, he’s 26. My head is in my hands at this point. I know Jacob’s been through a lot (and I’m not saying Dan Fogler isn’t a cutie!) but if some guy told me he was 26 and I arranged to meet him and Jacob Kowalski (again, based on first impressions. I love Jacob) walked in, I’m calling the fucking police. There is no way he is TWENTY-SIX. I love Jacob and Newts relationship, but I never saw Jacob as being the younger one. The fact that he is younger than Newt, Leta and Theseus (again! 11 years younger than Theseus!) when he looks like he could be their fucking uncle is unreal. I don’t really know why they made Jacob so ludicrously young when there was honestly, in this case, no need. I had to track down his age because it had zero (0) relevance to the film. Only thing I can think of is maybe to make his relationship with Queenie not come across as creepy? Who knows. 

This one really hurts me. Theseus, my poor boy. The FB team really are just gonna swing around and do THAT. Callum Turner is, in my opinion, a great Theseus from what I’ve seen so far. From interviews, it looks like he adores Zoë and he has great chemistry with Eddie. They’ve also done well to find an actor with similar physical characteristics and mannerisms as Eddie Redmayne making him a very believable casting for Newt’s brother. Though later it was revealed that Theseus is supposed to be eight years older than Newt making Theseus 37/38 which I think was completely unexpected for most people. We knew from the first film that Newt was the youngest brother and even with Callum Turner only being 28, I thought with the right clothes and such they could make him look older – or at least old enough to look like he could pass as Newt’s older brother. But nearly forty? With the kind of trauma Theseus has been through not to mention the likely constant drama of his troublesome brother and fiancée (and his brothers’ new friends and extremely messed up future brother-in-law)? Does he exfoliate with the Philosopher’s Stone? Drop that skin case routine, Theseus. Again, I don’t know what the film is going to bring. Perhaps Theseus must be significantly older than Newt for plot related reasons. Maybe for the sake of the story, he had to be old enough to not attend school with Newt, or maybe their father died early on and Theseus had to grow up quickly to fill a father figure void (that could explain the complicated nature of their relationship) or it might be for any number of reasons. My only hope is that it is specifically relevant to his character and not an inconsequential detail that could easily have been adjusted when they cast such a young actor. It can be a risk having a cast of actors in their thirties and forties playing a cast of twenty-somethings convincingly, and I’ve mentioned why, but it can be pulled off though I think it’s a strange move casting an actual twenty-something year old, one of the youngest cast members, to play a character 10+ years older than some of the oldest cast members characters. I think, like with the Goldstein’s, I will have to be constantly reminding myself when understanding the character that Theseus is that much older than Newt and Leta and even more so than Tina, Queenie and Jacob. 

Again, I’m not saying the actors haven’t done a good job with their respective roles, it’s just my 4am cough medicine powered thoughts on how they’ve made some interesting choices regarding what age they’ve kept the characters vs the actors real life ages and how it, for me at least, has affected the way I’ve interpreted the characters and would I feel any different about them had they made the characters similar ages to their actors or vice versa. I might be the only person who has thought about it and it’s not even a complaint on the cast itself (it’s a great collection of actors), it’s just an observation not at all eloquently put by a flu-riddled person.