#just a monent of peace for once

[lost-hope-but-funny]

this is so stupid

but gimli and legolas making each flower wreathes

from idk chamomiles and some more field flowers

[naldabixxx]

It's All Fine, Chapter 1

There isn't enough Translock in the world. Trigger warnings: Trans!Sherlock (Obviously), supportive!John, fluff and slight angst. Enjoy!

_-_-_

John's heart stopped as he saw his flatmate, his best friend, his boyfriend, his sherlock, sitting there... holding a syringe.

Sherlock had promised he wasn't taking anymore drugs. "Goddammit, Sher." John's voice wasn't mad, just disappointed with a slight touch of sadness.

"John, no, it's not what it looks like..." Sherlock sounded panicked. He stood up and tried to walk towards John, John sighed.

Sherlock handed John a small bottle of clear liquid, John was confused. He read the label on the container over and over, trying to process the word he saw in his hands.

Testosterone

"Sherlock?" John looked up from the bottle, only to see that the taller man had turned and walked away to look out the window, to avoid John's glare.

"Sherlock." John repeats, a little louder. John had failed to notice how Sherlock had tensed up as he raised his voice.

"Sherlock, look at me!" John was on the verge of tears, thoughts racing through his head.

Sherlock was terrified, though he'd never admit it. Memories he'd rather not remember hunting him down in his own mind.

John sighed once again. He began to walk towards the window, towards Sherlock. "Sher, please, can we talk?" his tone was much softer then before.

Sherlock turned his head, looking into John's eyes. John smiled, reaching his hand up to stoke Sherlock's cheek, ignoring the fact that his boyfriend flinched at the touch.

"Sher, so... You're transgender?" John knew the answer, but felt the need to confirm it.

Sherlock didn't say anything, he just nodded. His breathing was shaky. It was obvious he was more then a bit scared of having this conversation.

John notices that Sherlock is on edge, and he feels guilty. He knows there's nothing he can do. Nothing he can do to put his love's mind at ease in this monent, unless?

An idea forms in John's head, a perfect idea. So simple, so efficient, so effective.

John holds Sherlock's face, running his thumbs down his gorgeously shaped cheekbones.

John stared into Sherlock's eyes, they sparkled in the low light that filled the flat.

John noticed Sherlock's breathing, it had slowed significantly since they had began their embrace.

John pulled Sherlock close, he held him there firmly but not too tightly.

John stared at Sherlock's lips, he noticed their cupid bow shape and pale pink colour.

Suddenly, John is pulling Sherlock into a kiss. John feels Sherlock melting into his arms like an ice cream on a hot summer day.

John's hands find themselves tangled up in the taller man's dark curly hair. John let himself get swept away by the emotions, the comfortable feeling of the world drifting along filling his senses.

The world could be a dark and cold place, but John knew he'd always be able to find peace with Sherlock.

John never wanted this moment to end, and he knew Sherlock felt the same. Nothing could ruin this.

Soon enough, John felt himself and Sherlock parting their lips. John couldn't help but smile as he saw the relief in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Thank you." Sherlock whispered, out of breath. It was barely audible, but John heard it, and that was enough.

John chuckles slightly, he would do so such more for the man in front of him. So much more.

John, still holding Sherlock as close as possible, lead them both to the couch.

They just sat there in silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comfortable. Sherlock laid his head in John's lap, they were happy.

Sherlock looked up at John, a happy looking smile on his face "I'm guessing you're not angry?"

"Why would I be? If you're happy, I'm happy." John pulled Sherlock closer, trying to comfort him.

"But I do have one question..." John felt Sherlock tense up in his lap.

John sighed, he hated being the bad guy. He started playing with Sherlock's hair to try and calm the both of them.

"We've been together for over a year, known each other for even longer." he takes a long pause "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sherlock took a deep breath in, trying to steady his quickly rising heart rate "People aren't always the kindest... I've had to deal with that fact many times... I just didn't want to scare you away."

It brakes John's heart to see his Sherlock so weak, so afraid. It shatters his faith in humanity.

"Sher, I love you. Nothing will Chang that, ok? Nothing." John stares down at the man in his lap lovingly.

A smile spread across Sherlock's face. He was so relieved that he'd finally gotten this off his chest, it had been eating him up inside for so long.

"Who all knows?" John tried to brighten the mood with a light and simple question.

Sherlock thought for a moment, then answered "Well, other then the obvious, like family. Mrs Hudson, and... No one eles, really."

John was surprised, he knew Sherlock wasn't the most open guy, but he was still surprised. "Why not Lestrade? Molly? Seriously Sher?"

"I never felt the need to tell them." the answer was so simple, yet it was still so vague.

"Then why'd you tell Mrs Hudson?" John asked, confused.

Sherlock laughed a bit "Well, when we met in America. When I helped her escape her husband... It was all before I transitioned, so, she kinda had to know."

John also laughed a little, the answer made sense after all "Fair enough then." he had nothing to rebuttal that.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, just happily talking. Sometimes a question would come up, Sherlock was alright with answering them, everything was going well.

John was ready to do anything for Sherlock, anything.

John made a promise to himself in that moment, he's going to protect Sherlock at any cost, always.

"Sher? I love you, you know that right?" John asked, as they were both falling asleep.

Sherlock nodded, he looked so sleepy. John smiled "Good. It's all fine. All good." They fell asleep in each others arms.

[youremypride]

The Truth About Love | Ch.5

☽ Have you ever love someone so much, you would do anything for them? Even disturbing the peace between the living and the afterlife? Love knows no boundaries but there is always a price to be paid. How much do you say? As much as your heart desires for your true love.

Pairing: AHS! Michael Langdon x Reader

Genre: romance, angst, violence

Warnings: none

Note: This chapter is a little short, just to let you have an idea of what’s about to happen in the upcoming chapter. The plot thickens.

Word Count: 1594 words

prev - next

“Why did you rescue me, then? You didn’t even let me say goodbye to Mr. Jacobs before those agents took me away to that bunker.” I told him.

“There was no time for goodbyes and I had to make sure you were under our protection before it happened.” He expressed.

“Mr. Langdon had gotten you to safety, Y/N. You should thank him instead of being hostile to him.” Ms. Meade warned.

“How can I not be hostile towards him? Ever since the bombings occurred, no one has ever given me a clear explanation for me to be here. You know what it’s like to be kept in the dark, seeing as he kept a part of you hidden from you. I demand to know my reason for being here, and I don’t want to hear your nonsense about being an asset to The Cooperation or it being ‘classified’. There was an assertive tone in my voice, raising the tension between me and Michael.

“Y/N, that’s no way to speak to him. Apologize, now.” Why should I? I deserve to know something, you try having questions left unanswered for eighteen months. See how you like it.

“That’s no need for that. I think it’s time Y/N here finally have some answers. You’re right, no one deserves to be kept in the dark for so long.

You were never an asset to the Cooperation to begin with. When we were trying to find survivors that were worthy enough to be saved and brought to The Outpost, we received an anonymous tip. We tried tracing it back to the sender but nothing came up.

On the note, it had your information, address and location. Below it, wrote a message saying, ‘statera’ which meant ‘balance’. We couldn’t find a relation between the word and you, so we tried running your info in the database and not one single piece of data about you came up.” I was bewildered. They had lied to me all this time. For some reason, I felt he was holding back other information from me.

“If nothing came up, why still bother with me anyway? You could have chosen someone else.” I heard him sigh.

“We did, and we didn’t put your name on the list until we received another note that read, ‘Et monent vos’. It was a warning, that as long as you weren’t chosen to survive, they’ll keep sending it again. Also, there was a date on the note, the day of the bombings.

The Cooperation took precaution of it and agreed to let you on the list. That’s all I have for you, and you know what happened next. So, tell me, Y/N. What’s so special about you that someone needed you safe and decided to wipe out the entire world?” Michael questioned me.

“You think I’m associated to the person behind those bombings? Maybe you’re the one who did it. You have connections since your part of an organisation, no? I bet you all the other survivors are in that library, dead from your wonderful plan.” I smiled at him.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. It happened anyway. Everyone’s dead now, and I like to keep it that way. The seven trumpets of the revelation have already sounded and now the dead shall rise from the underworld to roam the Earth.” He exclaimed, his face shining with happiness.

“I don’t think it’s happening so soon.”

“Why do you say that?” He frowns towards me.

I looked up towards him, “We have company.”

“I’ve always thought the world would end with fire and ice, not witches and warlocks.” I heard one of the witches speaking. I didn’t join Michael and Ms. Meade down to see the other witches that had arrived. But sooner or later, they were bound to feel my presence.

Slowly, I walked down the stairs, my heels clicking against the surface with every step I took. I stood beside Michael on his right to see the others staring at me in shock and fear on their faces.

“Well, I be damned. I thought I would die before I could see one of his flesh and bone standing right before me.” The red-haired lady, also known as Myrtle spoke up.

“Y-Y/N. Why are you here? You were dead. Your parents said you were. How is it that you’re here?” Mallory asked, she was just as surprised as Myrtle was.

“Ah, I’m afraid you had it all wrong. I was never dead at all. I made you think I was with my powers, and those weren’t my real parents. They’re just acting as my cover so I wouldn’t get caught. Oh, and about the dying thing, yeah, I simply returned back home after I spent a year gathering information about The Coven, you didn’t think I was there as a student, did you?” I explained to her.

“You’re a witch, Y/N?” Michael asked me. I chuckled at him and started walking towards the fire pit in the middle of the foyer.

“As if the last thing I would want to be is a witch.” I tell him.

“She’s not a witch,” Cordelia says, “She’s something else.”

“And how can you tell, Ms. Cordelia?” Michael questions her.

“Because I had a vision of the past. It happened when Mimi Delongpre was the reigning supreme at that time. The Coven didn’t speak about this because Mimi didn’t want it to be disclose to the others. What happened to her family was such a tragedy, a mother shouldn’t had gone through at all.” Cordelia explained.

“Oh, I hear a story coming! Do tell, I wanna hear about this story too!” I chimed happily while the others still had a serious look on their face. “Hey, there’s not much going on here and no entertainment. Might as well get some storytelling happening, am I right?” I smirked.

“No one was told the real truth about what happened to Mimi’s youngest son, Damien Delongpre. He was a warlock, the greatest of his time. He had everything going for him, until he fell in love with one of the witches of The Coven, Lilith Ambirose. Maybe it was coincidental that he had fallen in love with the greatest witch among her peers.

Back then, it was forbidden for witches and warlocks to fall in love, even as to even copulate with each other. The council was afraid of the prophecy regarding a child born from a warlock and a witch. In which they will rise to become the most powerful of them all and bring destruction and chaos.

When the council had heard about their relationship, they decided to put an end on their lives by putting them up on a stake and burning them alive. All because of a precious soul. By the time the council was outside of their room, trying to break it down and dragging their bodies away, the two of them had set themselves on fire and when the fire had been extinguished, they found no trace of a living soul in Lilith’s body. She was never pregnant at all.

The news broke Mimi’s heart and she wasn’t the same ever since. Even she grew disgusted by her title and only wished for a new one to arise to replace her. After she step down, she burned herself in her own home.

The story you all heard before was that a fire had broke out because the witch hunters had found out about them and that they had been killed brutally by those men and women. The truth was then known when they found a journal containing all of Mimi’s entries of her memories. To think she was holding the truth of it all by taking it to her grave. No one knew why.” Cordelia ends her story.

“You got everything right, but you’re wrong about one thing.” I stared into the flaming hot fire that was burning the coal rocks behind it.

“Damien and Lilith weren’t the only ones who perished that night. Another soul did too.” I admitted. “The soul that the witches and warlocks were so afraid of and they managed to kill it.”

“How do you know about this, genius?” Madison asked.

I rolled my eyes at her, I heard about Michael bringing her back from hell. Shouldn’t have done it in the first place and let her rot there instead.

“Grandfather told me.” I simply stated. “Your grandfather told you this?” I nodded at Myrtle’s question.

“He once told me the story that Satan had went to the In Between to look for them. He had offered them a deal they couldn’t refused. He offered them the chance to be reborn again for the price of a soul, which they willingly agreed.

However, they didn’t listen to the full terms and agreement of Satan and in return, they were separated from each other, while Satan had received three souls, one he had sent away to Heaven. He executed his plan carefully so that the prophecy he had created will come true.” I sat at the edge of the firepit, putting my right thigh on top of the edge.

Myrtle walks up towards me, “Y/N, who is your grandfather?” She asked, softly.

I fluttered my eyes towards her, while I bring my right hand towards the fire, caressing the flames with my bare hand.

Everyone in the room was startled when I did that, “Who do you think it is when the only person who knew of the story is him?” I smirked at her.

Taglist:  @buckynatlarry @hxdesworld @champagnejoker @morningstarkit @bitchierrichie @meeeeeeeeeps @somethingweird168 @frozenhuntress67 @snookabooforever @habblez-the-babblez

[lightningabovefirebelow]

What are we supposed to remember on November 11?

November 11, 2018 is Armistice Day, also known as Remembrance Day in the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and other Commonwealth countries and as Veterans Day in the United States. Whatever you call this day, Armistice Day always marks one thing: the end of World War I. This year, we commemorate the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Armistice that brought over four years of fighting to an end. 

Certainly the Armistice Centenary is worth commemorating with major events. Already here in Toronto, Canada, there have been lots of concerts and exhibits related to the final Hundred Days of The Great War. On Sunday, Remembrance Day ceremonies will bring a silence across cities as the eleventh hour strikes on the eleventh day of the eleventh month. We will take two minutes to reflect upon and remember those who we lost in that war and other conflicts, as well as those who died while serving in peacetime. And outside of those two minutes, we shall salute those still with us who have served or continue to serve us.

Not usually told alongside are the stories of the innocent lives that were killed in brutal war. They never went out to the battlelines, yet the war took their lives. Obviously, this was a tragic loss.

As we take the time to reflect on the consequences war on this monentous occasion, we must also spare a thought on what causes war to happen. World War I was the product of an ongoing state of distrust, hatred and an overall sense of selfishness that was plaguing Europe. Yes, the assasination of one Hapsburg was what started the war. But it was merely a spark that ignited massive nationalism and imperialism and started one of the bloodiest conflicts to ever happen in Europe.

And yet we didn't learn our lesson. Two decades later, pretty much the same factors, this time ignited by Hitler, Mussolini, some imperalist Japanese people and other fascists turned into World War II. It took a nuclear bomb to end this one. War's starting to look grim, huh?

All of this nationalism should be alarming, and you have the right to be since it's happening again. America under Trump, Britain's Brexit and the election of far-right and anti-democratic leaders in Hungary, Brazil, Venezuela and other places around the world. Not to mention what's happening in the South China Sea. What if suddenly, a conflict between any state escalates into war? 

We also can't forget war created by the ultimate raison d'être, money. The Gulf War had oil spelled all over it. Government contractors profit when missiles are sold for battles. This greed is killing many people, and not just soldiers.

Of course, it's human nature to get into a conflict. We all feel disgruntled and rebellious at some point. We all got into a heated argument or even a battle at some point as well. But hey, we all got this settled somehow. 

But war wasn't solved by a simple handshake. It took millions of lost lives in order for a resolution to be solved. How did we decide that blood games were the only way of finding a winner? Do the lives of people who aren't government officials or the one percent matter? 

The only way we can prevent war is through love. Universal love. 

Diplomacy is the result of the joint desire to achieve one common goal. Often it is peace. And the one thing that drives peace? Love. Love regardless of race, colour, religion, beliefs, knowledge and location. This is the love that encourages us to come together in unity. Only love can mend this world and its many problems. 

If everyone cared for each other, war wouldn't be a problem. We wouldn't have such things like crime, greed and even terrorism. It would be a perfect world.

We can see many countries striving for this through initatives like the United Nations. But even so, with all the armed conflicts happening in places like the Middle East, and despots like Trump seemingly encouraging the prospects of war, it still seems we still have a long way to go until we finally reach our goal.

Because of our self-centred desires, I know it's impossible for everyone to love each other perfectly. So just try to respect each other and strive to create a welcoming atmosphere for everyone. This is the start to co-operation. And in international politics, “co-operation” is always a nice word to hear.

So this November 11, don't just remember the soldiers. Also take time to remember the innocent lives lost in war. And with that, ask yourself, why did we even have to go to war? Maybe if we all did realize why, we wouldn't see another solder die painfully in battle. As Sir Winston Churchill once said, “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

Lest We Forget...

[eeriestatic]

He could catch the smallest glimpses, but even his bangs could've been a trouble at times between some detail. Nevertheless though could he seemingly feel it anyhow, his amusement announced further by a cackle as soon as Shiro spoke, considering he didn't think twice about the ghosts until now. "Think the spooky ghosts would've had the intention to harm me? Does that count and stealing their Katz souls?" He snickered, wary of their directional heading when he had his head turned. The heft of his hold clutched a bit tighter once he settled for the pressure of Shiros arms, gently palming at his shoulder again with a rubbing squeeze. However, Shiro would have plenty of time to enjoy the peaceful nature, it wasn't like he was on constant crack - or at least he had enough in his person to harbour something different. Something for Shiro, that is. But for the monent, his attention raised again to follow the sound better, swerving them more off to the side now in better route towards the water that became better known in sight and away from solid ground. Structure familiarity lost in favour of a more clarity of land space, but that was his cue to seek out a spot that looked cozy enough.

While Shiro was taking way to the revelation to follow, emerald eyes glanced down at him while his head remained turned. Peeking at him curiously, they were taking a hard left now that lead them more towards the soft ground, sand - albiet, he didn't mind just settling and sitting in the comfortable confines of them. A brief moment of surprise at what he had to share, glinted in his eyes momentarily. He wasn't bothered by it overall, but if anything was it a neat piece of information to know - and whole Shiro was looking elsewhere, he'd be greeted by a partially, squishy squeeze to his side. "I think that's pretty neat. Even if you didn't tell me before, it still isn't going to change anyhow-- how I treat you. You won't be treated any less, Shiro. All consideration, every possible way." Once he settled for a spot, midway from the water and in centre to the land - he stopped. But without letting Shiro go just yet, he turned around and settled to wrapping his arms around his frame in a comfortable hug. "If you can get cold, you can get sick-" Markus chuckled above his head, of course he believed what Shiro said, but that wouldn't stop him otherwise. Though his grip let up after a good envelopment of warmth, slowly slipping down onto his knees while his hands gripped onto Shiros forearms after sliding down from his frame in a delayed parting. One hand remained in a grip on his own, so he could help him sit wherever he pleased nearby. "Hope the ground isn't much a problem."

eeriestatic​:

The peaceful silence was something he wasn’t used to, but still he found comfort in it with Shiro. As much as Markus was a chatter box with random comments to be known, for the time did he focus on Shiros person as a whole between his glances. And so, that the arm wrapped around his shoulders come to a better squeeze after Shiros physical reassurance told him it was alright. Of course the return drawn the gentle hues of red, even more once the circling sensation made itself known by the palm - he didn’t grace Shiro with an answer instantly on the spot. The contact assured a lot for him overall and the furthermore, reduced him to a vague softness in contrast. “Still… As long as it’s helping too though, I’ll keep you as warm as I can.” His smile grew more, giggling under his breath. Although his amusement grew as soon as his follow up comment graced him, cackling with a gentle squeeze around his frame, gently palming at his shoulder.

“Then we can worry about each other, seeing how you thought to follow me into the graveyard.” He bore a toothy smile, certainly he caught onto that small detail. With little following time though, the more pleasantly crisp breeze of the water became more prominent to him that his attention raised momentarily. Even the draft wave from the breeze, sounded better than the eerie air of the graveyard - thankfully it was long lost behind them in the span of time. The shimmer surface was enough of a sign for him, he could appreciate the confine space of the port and it’s easy access between areas. Certainly got the graveyard, but otherwise. He guided Shiro along though the rest of the way, slowing his pace relatively once any threat fear was gone. They could stroll better to their will without much problem further. Eyes drifted down again, looking at him with a slight tilt of the head. “If any point you want to turn around, we can go back when you feel the need. Or get too tired- too cold–” Markus added, raising his freehand to gently cup his own over Shiros at his midriff, gently squeezing it. “Any reason anyways… Can let me know.” Trace worry still remained in his eyes, naturally though, bore its careful consideration. But it didn’t cause imbalance to the pleasant atmosphere of his person, he was comfortable and cozy.

      It seemed that they had walked around in one big circle, but even he couldn’t be sure since he hadn’t paid any attention to his surroundings at all. When his gaze didn’t turn towards the ground, it was mostly set on Markus, a shy peeking from beneath long bangs glancing at him during those small pauses in speech. Of course the comment made him titter in return, but it was more so caused by Markus’ own laugh. With a snuggle at his side, he squeezed his arms around his waist in a clinging embrace.

      ❝Someone had to be here to protect you from the spooky ghosts, after all.❞, he teased, sticking his tongue out at him in a playful manner.

      Although he knew that Markus was usually more sporadic than this, he planned to enjoy the peaceful demeanor for as long as it lasted. He was still holding onto him in a halfway hug around his side by the time they neared their destination. Even when he perked up and straightened up his posture in order to look around in search of the source of the gentle waves and ripples caused by the breeze, he couldn’t tell exactly where they were coming from. Either way, a softened smile adorned his lips and he continued to lean against Markus’ side until the twin would find them a place to sit down.

      ❝While I appreciate the concern, there is no need to fret over it. I suppose it’s high time I came clean about it…❞, he murmured with an amused undertone, tilting his head up at Markus. ❝Malaks can’t actually get sick like humans do. It doesn’t mean we like to be cold, but… We don’t get the sniffles or anything of the sort.❞, he chuckled timidly and turned his head away due to the blushing complexion that had taken over. ❝I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. But when you treat me like one of your kind, I find it adorable and can’t help but play along… I’m not used to such consideration.❞

[i-lead-myself-to-autodestruction]

Courage

I am feeling the same way. The same fucking way. Alone and empty as I can be.

Our lifestyle is not helping us at all.

I know. I will get used to it. After all it's what we like most. Destroying ourselves just to feel peace. In our hedonistic monents we find ourselves. And after that we are punished, until we destroy ourselves again and again. I won't find myself in another person ever again. I am never finding my place, not even in the small things. I had a seed that had been planted long ago and through my ego and my careless behaviour, grew into the poison that is running through my skull.

I can't be myself anymore, the one that had a joy in everything, the one that was happy.

Because now you see and understand more. It cannot go away without carring.

I used to be the one that scattered away all the negative thoughts, like they never happened. Nobody can undo what I have done with my own hands. Nobody.

And when I feel okay, it's really strange. I SHOULDN'T FEEL THIS WAY. I am destroying myself more and more everyday.

Think about my exterior a little worse. Just a little. And on the inside everything aches. It's like a war that I am fighting with myself and in the end I am the one that loses.

I am still waiting for that helping hand. That one that will save me from all this bullshit and poison until it's not too late.

I am tired. I am really really tired. I can't control myself anymore.

I had a purpose once. I fought and I fought and it was win after win. But somehow, somewhere I got greedy. I wanted more and more until I begin to lose. To lose all of it.

And after all, you will find yourself in the dark, like me, questioning yourself where the problem was. Because not even you know it, the one that caused it.

I didn't think I could cry, but I am writing you all this with a sore throat and with crying eyes.

This is my curse.

At last, everything is coming back to me. At least, through all of this, I will learn to value, not to take everything for granted.

Once, you had everything, and in a careless moment, everything is gone.

Source: a brief conversation with the blood of my blood

[filmista]

The Autopsy Of Jane Doe

‘The Autopsy Of Jane Doe’ was one I was really eager to watch, when I caught wind of it’s existence, everyone was making a fuss about how good they found it and how they terrified they were while watchig it.

I’m not saying I’ve got a higher scare factor than other people, but none of the jumpscares (all very cliché if you aks me) worked on me.

It’s perhaps sounding like I’m about to butcher the film, but not really. I didn’t think it was bad I was simply quite dssapointed, that a film that in my eyes had the potential to become a great one didn’t become a great one.

Sure the film’s got a somewhat, inevitbale, inherent creep factor: an autopsy, two men standing over a woman’s, completely intact, gorgeous, naked body...

But to infuse with creepiness you’ve gotta do more, sure seeing them extract flesh and whatnot is gross but it isn’t creepy.

As I’ve mentioned there’s quite a bit of jumpscares, but they are all so terribly cliché.

Still ‘The Autopsy Of Jane Doe’ is a pretty film. Certainly one that’s pleasing to the eyes, with an aesthetic, that’s at times at the same time colorful, bright, light, yet dark and heavy.

The film is difficult to place: some call it a haunted hause film with the morgue starring as the haunted hause. For me personally, it didn’t work as a horror film, of any kind; I wasn’t scared once and as I’ve mentioned I found it quite cliché.

It actually would be the kind of film I’d hate normally, an orginal concept is not enough to make the film work, it’s got to make a bit of sense, even some films that supposedly “don’t make sense”, make sense, in the sense that they are purposely intending to not make sense...

And that was part of the problem I had with the film: it’s plot is certainly orginal, but once your start to think it through there is certainly stuff that seemingly doesn’t fit into the overall puzzle.

What kept me watching then? Well there’s two reasons. First of all there’s the mystery that even appears in the title. We’re presented to a Jane Doe: a beautiful woman, she looks like not a hair on her head was ever touched.

We’re eager to find out who the mystery woman was and what happened. It reminds me of something Edgar Allan Poe once wrote:

“The death of a beautiful woman is undoubtedly the most poetic subject in the world.” As misogynistic as this may sound, the genre of horror has always drawn from the destruction of fragility, of beauty, as one of its themes.

‘The Autopsy of Jane Doe’ takes up this idea: a father and son work in the morgue and receive the corpse of a young woman at the last minute. No identification, no fingerprints in the system: nothing. She’s a stranger. A Jane Doe: in America, a Jane Doe is known as the corpse of a woman who has not been identified in any way before arriving at the autopsy.

The scene of the crime is incomprehensible utterly puzzling; What was that girl doing there? What was the cause of death? When did she die, at the hands of whom? Why is she still bleeding, why does she have rigor mortis, why the pallor, and those eyes? What have they done to her?

She’s young, she’s beautiful and there’s something unearhtly, not quite right about her. She’s also one of the most alive looking corpses I’ve ever seen in a film.

This part was initially what kept me watching the clichés annoyed me, but I still wanted to know she was. The mystery part at least was well done.

Then there was another reason: the pyscholigcal layer underneath the horror. Right after my viewing of the film I read an interesting take on it. It starts with the words: “men don’t understand women.” It’s a cliché and actually one I find quite vulgar.

Just because you don’t understand how someone works all the time (I as a woman, and I’m sure plenty of others, certainly don’t understand men at all times)...

It doesn’t mean, we can’t feel for the other, love the other, be kind, and try to understand when we don’t understand. That’s what the film is about, trying to understand.

In the film that cliché of “men don’t understand women”, is spun around into something else: it’s more a question of can they understand, when it’s absoultely crucial, when the woman’s life may depend on it.

Bot the men, (the father and the son that are perfoming the autopsy on Jane Doe) are not evil, they were simply blind, oblivious to the female suffering in front of them.

The titular Jane Doe, reminds the father of his dead wife. He can’t find out what’s wrong with Jane Doe, even after he’s scratcher her surface and has quite literally had a look at her inside.

Neither the father or the son understand the woman in front of them, and when they do it’s too late... too late like it was once for Jane Doe herself, that’s a too late that came from incomprehension and fear. The two men slowly become afraid of the woman.

The father loved his wife, he loves the grupmy cat, Stanley that was hers still,even when he says: “ that thing’s getting meaner by the day.”Because he’s the only thing she has left him. But he lost her, because he couldn’t help her. She slipped from his fingers right in front of him.

His wife suffered from depression, until the day came she didn’t want to suffer anymore. And he never saw it, all he saw was a bright and happy wife, he had no idea what she was thinking. He was blind to his wife’s pain, and expresses that he would have hepled her if he’d known...

The point if there’s any to the enterwtined tragedies is that both women could have lived if they had been understood, or if they had at least been questioned, listened to.

That’s what I saw in there, but you know maybe I drank too much while watching the film, or I’ve been looking into it too much. I enjoyed that pscycholigcal layer in there, it reflects on both grief and depression, and communication between men and women, and emotional and pschylogical differences.

And I think if they had worked that out more, instead of trying so hard be scary it would have worked better. You can’t be a mystery, a horror film and a psychological drama at once.

You can blend but you’ve got to clearly flesh one genre out. And I think in the film they focused on the wrong one.

So the film was a weird beast for me, on the one hand, I’d like to say I didn’t like it, but that’s not true. I really liked some aspects but I was dissapointed with the  potential of some things, and that they never were given a chance.

One of the things that saved the film for me was the acting, with other actors of lesser calibre I would have turned it off.

Both men: The father and the son are portrayed beautifully, they’re not all that fleshed out, but they’re character that feel alive, and human. Flawed and imperfect.

They’ve got a heart and a soul and we can like them and care about them. And it’s due to the fact that Brian Cox (the father) and and Emile Hirsch (the son) that both stay natural, they are calm and undramatic, at least until the horror starts.

It’s just a nice relationship between a father and son that love each other, realistically portrayed, their connection feels real and genuine.

It also does something interesting it allows both men to be vulnerable in the way men aren’t often allowed to be in film, and it’s all because of Jane Doe. She reminds them of a woman both loved, for one of them she was his wife for the other his mother.

The son wants to talk about her, or wants to encourage his father to talk about her, becasuse he sense that his father would like to do so. However he says he doesn’t want to.

Her presence is the big metaphorical, elephant in te room. Both feel relived and calmer, after they have adressed it after they have talked about her and these monents are realistically toucing; it feels as if both men are liberated offa weight, like they are forgiven.

Perhaps the fact that the father was so good at bottling up emotions, is also what prevented him from seeing his wife was doing the same.

But the person that outplayed both men here, is the titualr woman. Olwen Catherine Kelly, plays dead. She’s a dead woman. Yet not often has the presence of one been so commanding.

There’s somehing quietly menacing about her. Yet again, she’s dead...

Olwen must have had an iroon discipline. Her performance is a quiet, elegant, and graceful one, but one that’s scary and unsettling, as I’ve said one that’s commanding, one your is automatically drawn to.

Olwen’s face initially looks like that of angel and ultimately fittingly like that of an evil witch. She goes from vulnerabilty and tranquilty, peacefulness, to adapting a look of arrogance and a malignant superirity.

She looks as if her corpse is ready to rise from the dead and challenge both men, she is in two words, hauting, terrifying and perhaps fittingly devillishy beautiful while she’s at it. And Olwen did it all with just her face.

As I mentioned visually ‘Jane Doe’ is stunning. It remninded me in some ways even a bit of ‘True Detective’, or even ‘True Blood’ (of which I adore the first two seasons) both shows which I didn’t love, but of which I loved the cinematography.

The film takes place in a small, nondescript town in the American south, somewhere in Virginia and it’s fittingly lush and gothic. It looks pretty and creepy, it’s got both light, vibrant and dim lightning going on.

It’s aestehtic when it comes to lightning and colours, is I think the kind of colours you’d see if you walked in New Orleans at night. And that city has got an aesthtic I dig.

The soundtrack does do something great. It uses creepy and atmospheric music to set the tone of a horror film. But it also does someting quite brilliant, it integrates the music as a part of it’s characters life.

To establish their daily rouitne, father and son, or rather son, has a penhcant for heavy rock music and a habit of listening to rock while working on a corpse, they’ve also got a very dark humour while they converse to go along.

It’s small things like these that infuse a film of personality. But I am still of the opinion that ‘Jane Doe’ lacks some of that. It could have been better if it had, had a clearer view on what it wanted to be exactly. Still I think it’s one I’ll revisit. If only for it’s atmosphere and it’s excellent performances.

“These things we found inside her her injuries, those marks. You can't say she's just a body.”

[xottzot]

2017-2(FEB)-10&11&12-2017--Sat & Sun & Mon here in this hellhole.

2017-2(FEB)-10&11&12-2017--Sat & Sun & Mon here in this hellhole.

Mad crazies on the streets here again for Friday and Saturday.

Around 5pm, a large red quad (4 wheeled) offroad thing, (a Honda by the look of it), it wasn't road registered of course, and nor could it have ever been, came noisily, boldly along the middle of the roads starting from the Koongamia shops area where there is also a liquor store.

It went by the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD as well, then turned left and went down another main road (Clayton Street) riding off with impunity.

All that it is a typical thing but which doesn't make it anymore legal than all the rest of the crap that goes on in this hellhole.

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Before then howwever, there was the sounds of LOTS of seperate incidents of idiots in cars tearing about all the streets, roaring engines, tyres squealing.....

The day began to get darker, but before it did, and possibly because the quad bike had rode along heralding to the criminals to come out onto the streets apparently because no Police were about to intercept it, then out came all the dickheads and criminals.

At one point there was 11 (eleven) of them all milling about ON THE ROADS. The females of the bunch were acting stupid and VERY loudly shouting and SCREAMING out all up and down the roads until the day became darkness and they still continued for hours and hours.

At one point in the darkness, 2 innocent cars on the road came from the shops direction and they suddenly encountered the mass of aboriginals and such standing ON THE ROAD who only very faintly moved off of to one side to 'allow' the cars to go slowly past.

And as soon as they past (literally barely), the crowd formed in on itself once more on the roads and began slowly going up and down the roads and to the shops. Back and forth, back and forth.....to them it was 'night of entertainment'.

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2017-2(FEB)-11-2017--Sunday....and so it goes....

Sunday, it rained a little overnight, But more than that, it was extremely windy, SO much so that things were on the roads such as branches and such because they had been torn from the trees. - Willie willies (natural) sometimes scoured along the streets. It was only those winds that somewhat 'cleaned up' the streets from whatever crap that had been thrown onto there from the criminals the nights before.

But the night was over-warm, and the day here in at this hellhole at 8:30am it had already surpassed the forecast maximum, and it was humid. The temperature went up past the maximum for this area (as ALWAYS) and it just held there.

The threat of rain hung over in the sky all day.

In the morning, an exodus of aboriginals came out of the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD and walked noisily down the road. Probably off to go to somebody's place for a drunken or a drugged-up get together as usual.

Too bad if any innocent household had wanted or needed a sleep-in.

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8pm..........out they all are now on the streets...literally ON THE STREETS....every so often you can hear them shrieking or yelling whilst all innocent residents are inside their own homes and yards.

Nobody parks their cars out in their front yards anymore if they can help it.

Hence the streets are now no longer safe again......

It's still blustery and windy but it is not as bad as it has been for most of the day. No more rain fell today, despite the clouds hanging overhead. Even well before dawn it was hot. The only reason it didn't get too much hotter today is becauuse of the damned thunderstorm clouds about which give next to no proper rain but just made the intolerable heat into intolerable humidity.

It's only been the weather somewhat that's kept the criminals in temporary check here......

P@20:12--Sun--11 Feb-2017---dear God Fliss I wish I was with YOU! - I love YOU Fliss. - Why have you made me unfairly forsaken and suffering?

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2017-2(FEB)-12-2017--Monday....and so it goes on....more shoutings.....another illegal motorobike tearing about.........

The first thing noticed was a group of school-aged aboriginals and others who did NOT go to school. Instead they were hanging aorund on the streets. This was after 9am.

An aboriginal man who lives at the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD, he came out and was striding as usual along the roads. And of course, he doesn't 'officially live there'...they just shuffle about from aboriginal house to aboriginal house....

A group of criminal kids called out to him because it had started to sprinkle with rain. (it didn't get any heavier and evaporated on the hot roads and ground) - He walked over to them and they said it was going to rain. He sneered at them and continued on his way. And of course they ALL talked far too loudly. they don't actually 'talk'...they just shout at each other that you can hear several houses away and more. - There is never any peace and quiet now in this area.

Within 20 minutes of the above, the criminal kids started milling on the roads and about and drifted down to the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOSUEHOLD. But they paused on the road verge and looked down the road because an unlicensed illegal red offroad dirt bike (a Honda? 4 stroke) tore along the road and went past the school on the road, then it could be heard travelling along road reserves further up into Koongamia.

Just an every Monday 'normal'....fingers up to everyone in the neighborhood.

That same bike has been heard for the past several days tearing about all over the areas, on roads, all about.

West Australian Police may THINK they have everything under control. But they do not.

West Australian Police may THINK they have contained the criminal elements, of which there are rampant and sizeable amounts now, bolstered by a new 'crop' who never ever go to any school not ever and instead want a carefree life of crime....and who will get everything served up on a plate for them, whilst all innocent law abiding people suffer instead.

That lot stared at where the red motorbike had gone and gesticulated with hands and arms as to where it might go. They were jovial, and they walked liked that into the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD with (video discs?) to while away some time and not be on the streets because Police might soon be about.

That's all they ever do.......camp out at innumerous aboriginal houses going from one to the other over and over again, all day and night.....auntie this...and uncle that.......all uncountable......

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Monday has been terribly humid. There's a thunderstorm and parts of others just hanging about but not letting down any rain. Just making the air terrible and heavy and making you sweat a lot.

Why not just go outside and cause crime?

Why not just go outside and rampage everywhere?

That's the provinces of the illegal crimnals who never got to any school, and who later grow up to never go to any job, and who instead just prey upon anyone and everything including their own.

A bizarre thing I've seen is that the rented corner house which (the one has had it's fence smashed by aboriginals, their front fence gate ripped off by aboriginals, their kids beaten up by aboriginals, been the targets of rocks by aboriginals.....well, THAT household has freely given in to the aboriginals completely. Aboriginals now wander back and forth from the aboriginal CRIMINAL HOUSEHOLD......and the kids of that corner house no longer go to school but run around on the streets, sometimes with their 'friends' the aboriginals, who can turn upon them at a monents notice. (it's amazing what free or cut-price drugs or booze can do for ensnaring the stupid adult(s) to allow free reign for the aboriginals......no wonder the West Australian Police are stymied shaking their heads in bewilderment when victims of aboriginal crime become wanton suporters of the very aboriginals who are causing so much crime..........

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AND.......the damned Perth airport has ben utterly rampant with seemingly EVERY damned plane flying off from there on one runway and flying over here.

Every damned plane incredidibly LOUD, making the air thunder and vibrate. -- And how is anyone supposed to sleep in that.....

And all that crap started at around 11:15 Sunday night, then paused for an hour or few, then began in earnest again even WORSE and it never let up until a little after 9am on Monday. Literally planes were taking off one after the other almost nose-to-tail.

The loud thundering of one big jet would start to get less, but only just before the next damned big noisy jet plane roared over. - REPEAT, REPEAT, REPEAT......

And of course just after 9am on Monday morning, as I tried to sleep, it became 'too quiet'....and so that dickhead on that red illegal motorbike started loudly tearing about the streets.

Oh, and one aboriginal started throwing crap onto the roads and smashing it across them.....as if the damned planes weren't bad enough.......

And around just before midday noon that adult male aboriginal strides back walking ON the roads from the corner shops carrying two cans of alcohol in a plastic bag.......

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1:pm (13:00)........a VERY LOUD (2-stroke?) motorcycle came tearing past ON THE ROADS, and of course went through the criminals favourite highway, the pedestrian walkway at the end of the street.

I didn't see it as I was busy elsewhere, (but it's noise was inescapable), and when I looked, there was aboriginals all over the streets, on foot and on bicycles......ever ready to get in the way should any Police be about (marked or unmarked).....and of course none of them go to school ever........just as the adults don't go to any jobs......

P@14:03--Monday 12 Feb-2017---dear God Fliss I wish I was with YOU! - I love YOU Fliss. - This hellhole has reset itself back to the terrible state it what it was last Summer. I have had barely any sleep. a hour or three here or there spread out over two days. - Max is VERY growley all the time. Both dogs can't get any rest, neither can any of the neighborhoods dogs. It's very very humid and inescapably so. Today it's worse than Queensland....and a thunderstorm hovers around but gives no rain at all or coolness to this hellhole. - I can't even finish this entry and post it up before MORE damned planes are thundering just overhead from Perth airport......