#like the cemetery gates version

[hhat]

everything looks burned up, i can't stand to look around don't feel like going on, but c'mon, make a joyful sound

[wanderingpages]

Dark cardan: I wanna show you something

*takes her to her evil uncle*

Lmaoo nooooo

[neontokyoo]

I had so many people ask me for more girl dad content, I decided to just put all the requests in one. I was supposed to post this on my birthday yesterday but I never did, so here y’all go.

Characters: Astarion (both versions), Halsin, Raphael.

Warning: may contain mild sexual content

Spawn Astarion:

- Tav and Astarion have one little girl who's the spitting image of Astarion, with a few physical features that she gets from her mother.

- I'm almost convinced their daughter was conceived at the cemetery after Astarion was finally free from Cazador.

- This was an unplanned pregnancy, and Astarion was absolutely terrified when he found out about it.

- She has a mixed race between her mom and her dad (unless Tav is also an elf)

- She was probably named after a star or planet or something that goes with her father's name, meaning "Little Star"

- But she could also be named after Dawn, Dusk, or Night, considering that she's a Dhampire

- She's a rogue, but according to D&D, you can have multiple classes, which means that she could also have Tav's class, as well.

- She grew up in a small, nice home in Baldur's Gate

- She was taught at a young age how to use a sword and fight back if threatened.

- Astarion is very protective of his daughter and tends to distrust the people she spends time with unless he already knows them really well, or gets to know them really well

- Astarion is the type of parent who enjoys to gossip with their child, and he'd wait for his daughter to return from school so they could talk shit. "So, darling, how was your day? Any drama? Any problems with your friends or classmates--or teacher? Any interesting rumors? Spill the tea."

- As his daughter get's older to the point she's ready for a relationship, Astarion is the type of parent that feels unsure, and comes off as cold and disapproving towards their child's partner, but eventually, he'll warm up to them and they'll gain his approval after some time

Ascended Astarion:

- Tav and Astarion have one little girl who's the spitting image of Astarion, with a few physical features that she gets from her mother.

- Their daughter was conceived on their wedding night.

- This pregnancy was planned, but whether it was actually consensual or not, I have no idea. That part's up to you/Tav

- She has a mixed race between her mom and her dad (unless Tav is also an elf)

- She was probably named after a star or planet or something that goes with her father's name, meaning "Little Star"

- But she could also be named after Dawn, Dusk, or Night, considering that she's a Dhampire (unless Tav became a spawn before she married Astarion, then their daughter would be an actual vampire)

- She's a rogue, but according to D&D, you can have multiple classes, which means that she could also have Tav's class, as well.

- She grew up in Cazador's old palace

- She wasn't neglected, but Astarion's main focus was on politics and raising an heir

- He was disappointed when he found out he'd created a daughter instead of a son

- He was disappointed, but he and Tav were unfortunately unable to make another child as quickly as he wanted, and he eventually gave up trying

- She was raised with strict rules and discipline.

- Despite the disappointment of having a girl, she eventually grows on Astarion, and Astarion is actually very protective of his daughter and tends to threaten the people around her. It doesn't matter who you are, mess with his kid, and he'll hunt you down

- As his daughter get's older to the point she's ready for a relationship, Astarion is the type of parent to disapprove from the very beginning. He's very sour, and her partner may never get his approval. It doesn't matter who it is, he just doesn't like anyone.

Halsin:

- Halsin and Tav had triplets their first pregnancy.

- One looks just like Halsin, one looks like Tav, and the other one is a perfect mixture of both.

- Nobody knows when they were conceived. Tav and Halsin didn't actually do it on one specific day, so it's hard to tell when it actually happened.

- It was both a surprise and a planned pregnancy. They've talked about it before, but didn't actually expect it to happen so soon.

- They definitely weren't expecting to have triplets.

- But they were feeling pretty Brave, so they weren't too worried.

- The girl's are a mixed race (unless both parents are elves.)

- All three of them are druids

- They probably have nature-related names.

- The girls grew up in a family-sized cottage in the Emerald Grove

- Compared to other children, they live a good life

- Tav and Halsin are financially stable, and halsin looks after the Grove and the children while Tav starts her own business of some sort to help gain extra money. (I don't know if Halsin gets paid for running the Grove, but maybe he sells flowers or something?)

- These girls mean the world to Halsin, and he wouldn't even know how to function properly if anything were to happen to them. His wife included.

- I feel like Halsin is a very supportive parent

- When the girls are old enough and ready for a relationship, Halsin would bawl like a baby and do his best to be supportive to both his daughters and their partners.

Raphael:

- Tav and Raphael have one little girl who doesn't look like anyone in particular. She's the perfect mix of both her parents, with her father's hair and her mother's eyes.

- She wasn't conceived on any specific day. I mean, maybe an anniversary of some sort. Or a birthday, even? Nobody knows.

- It was completely unexpected that Tav was pregnant, but Raphael took much pride in making that happen.

- Their daughter is part cambion

- Like her father, the child has a devil form and a disguise (of Tav's race).

- She has two classes, being a bard like her father, and also sharing her mother's class, as well.

- The child probably has a name that gives tiefling/devil/cambion vibes (Maeve, for example)

- She grew up in the House of Hope

- Raphael tries his best to balance spending time with his daughter with his work.

- Raphael is a very calm father

- He has rules, guidelines, and expectation's for his daughter, but is not overly strict.

- But he wouldn't hesitate to put his foot down if necessary.

- For example, he lets his daughter hang out with her friends, but she needs to talk to him or Tav first, and is expected to be home around a certain time. If she doesn't meet that expectation, he might yell, he might be angry, he might scold her, and if it repeats, he won't think twice about grounding her.

- pretty much the average parent

- I believe that Raphael would be the type of parent to have a Courting Candle when his daughter is to the point where she's ready for a relationship. Whether he's cold to her partner or not depends on the type of person.her partner is. It may take a moment to gain his approval, or he may never approve.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

xiii. and all the pieces fall right into place

— the one where he’s in love with you.

warnings: mykonos inaccuracies, mentions of anxiety, language, not proofread sorry! have mercy and ignore the mistakes, i feel like this is very romcomish and i actually quite like it! 3.5k words (+articles!)

currently playing: i'm in love with you by the 1975!

masterlist ✢ next

IT doesn't come as a surprise that actress y/n y/ln is surrounded by rumors and he-said-she-saids, her life has been a constant rollercoaster since March of the present year, when the news of her breakup to superstar Aidan Kim due to her cheating were made public by various outlets.

Since she decided to 'speak up' not two months ago, after letting the world drag her throught the mud, which in this writer's humble opinion, is the clearest sign of guilt. y/n has been on the road of digging her reputation out of the cemetery, not minding that what's dead should stay that way: Dead AND buried.

The public's opinion on the 'Queen of Romcoms' is progressively changing to her benefit, call it manipulation or excellent PR, word on the street is that y/n has landed a role that will mean the complete turnaround for her career in Greta Gerwig's version of 'Little Women' (as if we needed YET another version), alongside industry figures such as Timothée Chalamet, Meryl Streep and Saoirse Ronan.

One thing's for sure, this role will make or break her sorry excuse of a career. I hope you have taken acting lessons, y/n, because actual actors are about to give you a run for your money.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim's 'In Your Pocket' M/V features ex girlfriend's belongings.

→ y/n y/ln and Charles Leclerc meet again in Paris.

→ Matilde Bassi takes on the role of Elphaba in her return to Broadway.

August 18th, Mykonos, Greece.

It's true what they say: everything is worse in your head.

It isn't like you to prove motivational Pinterest quotes right, but they are right. This trip looked wildly different in your head and not exactly in a positive way, though, to be fair after the shitshow you've lived through for half the year, your head is not the happiest place on Earth. Or the one that sees the glass half-full.

Anxiety was the only thing fueling you (besides a shaken espresso, again not the brightest idea) as you left Paris with Charles. Hyper-aware of his presence next or behind you as if he was this magnet you couldn't tear yourself apart from.

"What is it?" he'd asked a couple times when he felt your gaze on him as you waited by your gate for the flight to Athens. Charles was the textbook definition of confident and composed, hiding his expression behind a pair of Bvlgari shades. At the end of the day your destination had been his choice, which was fine by you. If you had to think any more than absolutely necessary about the trip and everything it involved, you would have backed out and ran back to New York with Matilde. And Charles knew this, so he took charge.

You only had so many 'it's nothing's in you before admitting that you were terrified. Not of him, of course, but the jumble in your brain and your heart didn't translate properly into words and it only added on to another fear: making a fool of yourself. After all this was, in its reason, absolutely terrifying. Confronting your feelings for Charles after months of denying you had them felt like some twisted exposure therapy. And the voices in your head that sometimes sounded a lot like Mati and others way too close to Victoria and Aidan, went from telling you that it is obvious Charles feels the same way to reminding you of how unlovable you truly are.

But it was all worse in your head.

Your brain has toned the fight or flight instinct per your insistence that it is supposed to be for actual life-threatening situations, not seeing Charles Leclerc in a bathing suit.

So you're enjoying the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. It's a beautiful place and you deserve to have a good time with someone you have grown to care about so much.

“Having fun?” You ask, letting your sunglasses slide past the bridge of your nose to look at Charles properly.

It’s yacht day, and although you don’t usually fare well in boats and were dreading the nausea even before you set foot in the thing, you’re doing pretty well.

“Of course I'm having fun, I'm with you.” Charles replies, smiling. He's lying next to you in a lounge chair, basking in the sun.

It's probably not a good idea for you to be tanning, since, if you get lucky you'll be playing a girl in a piece taking place in the United States Civil War. But if anything, you'll find a way to solve it.

"Are you sure that's going to look good?" you question, raising an eyebrow as Charles points the Polaroid in your direction. The quite strict 'no phones' policy was his idea, and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were willing to let the outside world outside. Which is what led you two to buy an extremely overpriced Polaroid camera in a tourist shop. "There's too much light."

Charles shrugs, snapping the picture while you still have your eyebrows raised. "We'll see."

You already have a collection between the pages of the book you carry with you in your suitcase, and it's only been one day since your holiday started. Charles and you take turns with the camera, but to be honest it's mostly him taking candids of you and showing them off excitedly.

"Gorgeous," he says after he's shaken the little square enough to reveal your image glaring at him. "Even if you are giving me a dirty look."

You laugh before rolling your eyes. His compliments come more often now, and he awaits your reaction with a slight anxiety that recedes when you smile. "My turn to have it."

Charles holds the camera close to his chest. "Not yet."

"You're so unfair,"

This makes Charles laugh again, but still doesn't give the camera up. "Fine. Let's take one together, soleil."

This would be your second picture together in the whole trip. The other one is a very bright depiction of your confused faces as you tested the camera for the first time. You wanted to throw it to the trash before Charles took it from you and kept it in the pocket of his trousers.

Charles makes the most space for you to sit down in the lounge chair as he possibly can, but there's a reason they're individual, so you're still halfway on top of him as you try to fit in the frame. His skin is warm, as it was expected from being in the sun, but your body reacts in the opposite way, exploding in goosebumps.

"Are you okay?" he asks, lowering the camera. His Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows, trying to keep his eyes on your face and not the bright pink top of your bikini.

"Perfect," you retort too quickly to be truthful, "I just— I'm in your personal bubble."

Charles chuckles. His free hand goes down from your shoulder to your bare waist in a second, pulling you closer to him and over-confident movement that shocks even Charles himself. "I like you being here."

You don't know how to react to the most obvious flirting you have been subjected to by Charles. You are not even sure you're capable of flirting back.

Your relationship with Aidan just happened. That's the only way you could describe it for the three years that you were with him. It happened because it was supposed to, you met in the set of a romcom, you kissed and kissed and kissed, and suddenly you didn't have to act as much in love as you had to just live it in front of the cameras. It made sense, at least for a while.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in which you had fallen in love with Aidan Kim. You had just let your relationship from coworkers to fictional lovers to actual lovers run its course the way you thought was normal and expected. Maybe that was the first mistake in a long line you can't seem to stop dragging around. It's not like you didn't love him—in some moments more than others—but it didn't feel like you had fallen in love with him.

And with Charles, it couldn't be like that. It hadn't been like that from the start, but you still felt like you could fuck it up any second just by not being able to make a flirty retort without sounding like you were being strangled.

"You do?" you reply, letting your weight fall a little more on his legs. Maybe words can be left behind if you can get a grip on your actions. You don't want to be afraid, and you want to cross that threshold with him, finally.

He only holds your waist tighter, clearing his throat before readying the camera once more. Charles wants to kiss you, of course he wants to kiss you. He has probably wanted it since he saw you that day in his Driver's Room sneaking away with a granola bar and a bottle of water. But he also doesn't want to do it in the middle of a yacht, rushed and mostly hormone-driven.

"Ready, soleil?" Charles asks, his breath tickles your neck and you sink your fingers into his shoulder.

"Ready." you smile, enjoying the warmth of his body more than you do that of the sun.

─────────

You finish applying your peach colored lipstick three seconds before Charles knocks on the door to your room. Although you're exhausted from the sun, you're also relaxed and content, you can't wait to spend more time with Charles.

"Hi," you greet as you open the door. Charles is wearing khaki shorts and a half-unbuttoned white shirt, and the same Bvlgari sunglasses he's been carrying everywhere rest low on his chest. "I'm ready!"

Charles nods, holding his hand out for you. "You look beautiful, soleil."

"Thank you," you smile at him, taking his hand, although you wish you could have wiped it on your sundress before giving it to him. After the yacht, the whole aura shifted. Charles' gaze lingers on you more than usual, your fingers look for his, grazing each other until he finally intertwines them. You hope the sun melts you into one another.

Though maybe you should start by hoping you finally get the guts to kiss him.

It was your idea to get some drinks before dinner, and after a simple Google search you found a pretty place where you could chill while watching the sunset. Regrets came after that, when you found out you had to walk uphill to get to the place. Charles can't stop laughing as you whine and drag your already sore feet.

Once you are led to your seats—a pair of cushions on the floor of the terrace—you stop complaining. The view is magnificent and the expectation hanging in the air has you buzzing in the best way. Something is going to happen, and you know for the first time in months, it is going to be good.

Charles is talking about last year's Dutch Grand Prix, when your phone rings. While the idea of no phones allowed was lovely, it was a little unrealistic considering both your careers. But you have made it work with the "only urgent calls" feature and automatic response texts, so you know this is probably really important.

Matilde is staying at your house per your insistence that, even if you weren't there, she could make herself at home. But sometimes she still calls you to make sure that whatever she's doing is okay with you.

"Go ahead," Charles nods gently, thanking the waiter as he places your drinks in the tiny table between your cushions.

The unregistered number appears familiar as you stare at your screen, and you snap back to reality before missing the call. "Hello?"

"Hello," it's a female voice on the other side of the line, chirpy and clear. "Am I talking to Amy March?" she laughs, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Charles notices the way your demeanor changes and he's unsure of how to react in return. The hand holding your iPhone against your ear has begun to shake and your mouth is hanging slightly open, lower lip trembling.

You did it. You got the role.

You are coming back.

"y/n?" Charles ventures, anxiously.

"YES!" you speak to the phone again, unable to moderate your tone. "Yes, this is her!"

The casting director on the phone laughs again, although her ear is probably ringing. "Hello y/n, I just called to let you know about the role you got in..."

You try your best to pay attention to her as your eyes drift to Charles, your free palm pressed to your mouth, yet unable to hide your grin. The muscles in your face are still trembling with a mixture of excitement and the urge to cry. You thought happy tears would never come back to you.

Still unsure of what's happening, Charles looks at the people around you. Some have started to stare, others have already made up their minds about you being some crazy, noisy tourists and aren't interested in that. At least he's starting to feel relieved that you're smiling, although there are tears in the corner of your eyes.

You agree to a meeting next week and thank her around a million times before hanging up. It's official.

Charles remains silent, anxiously waiting for you to share the news.

"I got it!" you screech, and tears roll down your cheeks. The salt in them touches your lips, but you relish them. You are happy, ecstatic. "I got the role, Charlie!"

An audible sigh escapes from Charles' lips and before he knows it, you're throwing your arms around him. Not even giving him time to speak.

You're still crying as he envelops you in a hug that leaves you breathless. His hand runs down the back of your head and pulls you closer by your lower back.

"I knew you could do it," he whispers softly, before his lips brush against your temple. "Congratulations my sun."

The possessive has your stomach filling with butterflies and you hug Charles even tighter. You are grateful for him, because he did believe in you, and he has stuck to your side no matter how crazy your environment gets. He cares about you, genuinely and deeply.

Later you will have a recollection of moments that are tinted pink in your mind. Reminding you of all the times where you realized you were in love with Charles. But this one right here is the one where you realize you are so in love with the man holding you in his arms you can hardly breathe.

"Thank you, Charlie," you hiccup slightly, overwhelmed with every single emotion in your body. "Thank you."

Charles kisses your cheek gently, holding your face with both hands. "I'm really proud of you."

You smile widely as he runs a thumb across your cheek to wipe your tears. "Thanks."

You return to your own cushion hurriedly, too happy to feel embarrassed about the show you just put up for the rest of the tourists.

Now there's just one thing left for this to be perfect.

─────────

You're walking hand in hand back to the hotel, stopping with any chance you get. Attempting to make the night longer before you have to part ways at the door of your respective hotel rooms and spend yet another night tossing and turning, haunted by what could be or what could have been between the two of you.

But time is running out as you reach your floor and neither has given that step that will throw you both off the edge. In a good way, though.

"So, goodnight?" Charles rubs the back of his head anxiously, letting go of your hand as you rummage your beach bag for the key to your room.

You look up at him, the keycard already between your index and middle finger. "Goodnight, Charlie."

It's all awkwardness as Charles reaches for your hand again and gives it a gentle kiss. His stubble feels raspy against the back of your hand. You wrap your arms around him again letting your hand touch the back of his neck. Neither of you want to actually say goodnight.

"See you tomorrow," you mutter, aware that you've already hugged him more than what's socially acceptable.

Charles nods, squeezing your hand one last time before letting you disappear inside your room.

You want to scream into your pillow and hit yourself in the head. But Charles would probably be able to hear the banging against the wall and it would mortify you. You make yourself busy for a few minutes by removing your makeup and changing your clothes, before you finally listen to the impulse nagging your brain.

Go and find Charles.

You open the door to your room before your anxiety makes you hesitate and you find Charles closing the door to his.

"Oh," you say, slowly.

"Do you want to sit with me on the balcony?" Charles rushes to say, fighting against his anxiety much like you.

Both your rooms are the exact same, so when he points to his room, you move out of the door to yours instead.

"Yes."

Charles enters your room slowly, as if it's unknown territory, although it mirrors his. Maybe a little messier since you just threw your clothes all over the place as you ranted to yourself about how stupid and childish you were being just ten minutes ago.

"Sorry for the mess," you cringe, throwing the bottom of your bikini to one side with your left foot. You will probably be looking for that thing like crazy tomorrow, but you're trying to focus on the now.

"It's okay," Charles assures, smiling as he crosses the room to the glass door that leads to the balcony. Two lounge chairs and a simple table await.

You follow after him once you've grabbed some tiny bottles from the mini bar, two Red Labels and one Hennessy. Offering one to Charles before sitting in the chair next to him. Liquid courage, if anything.

Charles uncaps his Red Label and jiggles it gently towards you. "Toast?"

"To what?" you question, placing the tiny cap on the table. You've toasted to your new role several times already, and honestly it doesn't get old, but you want Charles to say whatever is on his mind.

"To us," Charles smiles, his eyes never leaving you. "For being here, together."

You clink the tiny bottle against his before downing half of the whisky in one gulp.

Both stay silent for a few minutes, listening to the waves crash against the shore and the sounds of people getting back to their rooms on the other side.

"I can feel you looking at me," you hum, still staring out the balcony and not back at Charles. "Charles?"

"That's because I'm looking at you," he responds nonchalantly. "Because you're beautiful."

You finally look at him, shaking your head lightly. "Thank you."

"And I'm in love with you, y/n," he's almost breathless by the time he says your name, but doesn't stop to take a sharp breath. He doesn't even hesitate as he changes his position in the lounge chair, his whole body facing you. "I am so in love with you, I don't understand how the fuck is my heart able to keep beating."

It's like the world has paused for Charles to continue with his confession in peace. All of Mykonos is holding its breath, even the sea.

"I know you already know," he adds as you open your mouth. "But I have to tell you because I cannot keep swallowing the words every time you look at me like that. I'm in love with you, and you don't have to say it back."

You're moving in slow motion as you leave your chair, you can feel your hands shaking but fight against the motion of pinching your thigh or pulling on the string of your shorts. You're nervous, but you're not about to back down. Charles holds his breath when you stand in front of him, but stands up too.

"I'm in love with you too," you breathe, placing a hand on his chest. His heart is going so fast, it's like the words he spoke not a minute ago float in the air. "I really am in love with you, Charles."

Charles is mildly afraid of touching you, as if by doing so you would disappear. But the urgency to finally kiss you is bigger than his fear, and he wants to hold you and blend your bodies together and so, so many things all at once.

His hands grip your face firmly, but not with enough strength to hurt you and you close your eyes, melting into the way his lips touch yours. Softly, tentatively at first. As if testing the pieces of a puzzle you're not quite certain they fit together. But you respond immediately, moving your mouth against his and taking your hand to his jaw.

And it's like overflowing gates have finally opened.

Charles stumbles back to the low chair, pulling you with him swiftly yet with care. His hands have traveled down to your hips and he helps you settle on his lap, straddling him. He has wished for this moment so many times, has fantasized about it on countless occasions, and none of those daydreams compare to the way your lips feel against his. The way your hands move to his hair and how you grip his shoulders to maintain balance.

And it's only when you really need to breathe again that you break the kiss. Your chests rise and fall frantically, matching your heartbeats. You can't wait to kiss him again. You never want to stop kissing him.

He's staring at you, and he has never looked more beautiful than right now with his disheveled hair and reddened lips. And his eyes are so bright when he looks at you, your heart races even more.

So you kiss him again, pressing your chest tighter against him as he holds the back of your head and your lower back. His tongue tastes like whisky and mint as he runs it down your lower lip, and you let him deepen the kiss as much as he wants to. Both of you have wanted this for months, and it's enough and nothing at all, at the same time.

"I'm yours, y/n," Charles says between kisses, breathless and with a tinge of desperation. "Je suis à toi, mon soleil."

And you kiss him again, and again, and again. Because you're his too. You have been his for so long.

─── team principal radio: ❝in the wise words of taylor swift: it's been a long time coming! thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoyed this chapter because i LOVED writing it. also, thank you so much for being so patient and waiting for an update! i'm glad you're still here❤️❞

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[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 28th:  Ghost Hunting | Seven Devils - Florence and the Machine | Frantic read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

“Wait,” Eddie pauses and whips around, nearly knocking everything off of Steve’s kitchen counter. “You don’t believe in ghosts?”

It just doesn’t make any sense– after all they’ve seen? After all Steve’s seen? How can he not believe in ghosts? 

Steve shrugs and pops another Pringle in his mouth as he leans against the counter next to Eddie. “No, why? Do you?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge and Steve rolls his own. “Do I believe in ghosts? The guy who got eaten alive by demon bats in a funhouse mirror version of our current waking world? How do you not?!”

“The Upside Down was created, Ed,” Steve laughs and eats another chip, speaking with his mouth full. “Ghosts though? Like, spirits and the afterlife and all of that? I just don’t buy into it.”

“That doesn’t make any kind of sense, Harrington. So you’d just walk into a haunted place or whatever, fearless?”

Crumbs fall from his chest as he brushes them off his shirt Like most things Steve does these days, it’s cute and Eddie wants to beat himself over the head with that Pringles can for the thought. 

Steve nods and licks the leftover Pringle dust from his fingers. Eddie tracks the movement subconsciously. “I guess so, yeah. Why, you wanna go ghost hunting or something?” 

Well, there’s an idea. Does he want to test the waters of the underworld again? No, not really. But does the idea of spending more time with Steve speak to his particular brand of impulsivity? 

It sure does, which is why he responds with glee. 

“Hell yeah!”

--

Dustin hooks them up with some sort of special camera and instructions that go way over both Eddie and Steve’s heads before calling them both idiots and sending them on their way. 

And as they approach the old cemetery, Eddie starts to agree with him. 

Barren trees wave hello with decrepit branches and the gate clatters in the wind. A cool breeze whips through them, cutting Eddie to the bone and he sees Steve shiver next to him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Place is bigger than I thought,” Steve says. “How many people do you think are dead here?” 

“Hopefully of ‘em,” Eddie teases. “Nervous yet, big boy?” 

Eddie bumps their shoulders together and turns to see Steve pull his jacket around him tighter. Like Eddie, the chill hits differently these days, something about the nerve damage from their Upside Down battle scars. It’s hard not to reach out and 

Steve scoffs with his arms crossed over his chest and nudges him back. “Not even a little. Let’s get this over with before we freeze to death.” 

--

Eddie manages to lose Steve in the supposedly haunted cemetery. He’s not sure how it happens– one minute, he’s tracking something that popped up on the camera and the next, he’s alone in a mossy, overgrown corner of the graveyard with nothing but tombstones for company. 

“Steve?” Eddie calls out into the wind. 

Nothing. 

He tries not to let panic set in. 

He’s just veered off course, that’s all. If he retraces his steps, he’ll find himself back to the main path and find Steve, probably annoyed that he’s been stuck waiting. An easy enough task, if he knew which direction he’d come from– the hyperfocus on the camera makes it difficult to reorient himself. 

“Steve?” He yells out again, louder this time as he walks back in what he thinks is the right direction. 

Eddie’s heart starts racing a bit faster, frantic energy thumping in his chest and down to his stomach as he turns in a circle. Nothing but gravestones and epitaphs as far as the eye can see. Another chill takes him by surprise and every hair on the back of his neck stands at attention, probably a placebo response but eerie and unsettling just the same. 

“Steve, where are you?” He yells again, marching forward and up a small hill he’s fairly certain he’d nearly stumbled down when watching the camera screen. 

As he clears the hill, Eddie looks across the bleak expanse of dead grass and dreary landscape, searching for a glimpse of Steve. 

“Steve! Can you hear me?” His voice breaks, quieter than the last few calls. 

When he finds nothing, he starts to walk a little faster, his feet crunching dried up leaves that litter the ground beneath him. Silence envelopes him, loud and consuming, broken only by the sound of his breath. 

Whirling around a tree, he finds himself at another deadend and feels the panic he’s tamped down into a shallow grave begin to claw its way out.

He knows that Steve can handle himself– he’s seen it for himself, after all– but even outside of ghosts, outside of the Upside Down, there are still certain consequences to being seen out in public with Eddie.

The town has been none too kind, even with his name being cleared, and Eddie knows all too well what they’re capable of. Images of Steve beaten and bloodied somewhere in the cemetery, whether by monsters or humans, plague him. Rage and terror seep into his thoughts as he shivers against the wind. 

--

“What the fuck!” Eddie screams and whips around, dropping the camera as his hands ball into fists when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s just me, are you alright?” Steve’s eyes widen and he puts up both hands in a faux display of surrender.  

He releases a breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding and folds forward, one hand on Steve’s shoulder and the other bracing himself on his own knee. 

“Yep, all good here, never better, Stevie.” Eddie wheezes out, offering a thumbs up without looking.

“You sure? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost… that wasn’t supposed to be a pun.”

Eddie looks up at Steve to find him smiling down at him, soft and crooked, his absolute favorite– the only beam of light and color in this desolate cemetery. 

“Wow, that was lame, even for you.” 

Steve’s smile only grows wider. “Seriously though, did you see something? I turned around and you were just, poof. Gone.” 

“Didn’t you hear me yelling for you? I got caught up tracking what I thought was something worth tracking and got myself lost as shit.” 

Eddie watches as Steve’s smile turns to a grimace. “Hearing’s not great these days. Guess I uh, took a few too many hits to the head. Sorry.”

“Dude, I didn’t know that. And don’t apologize,” Eddie starts, standing up straight but not dropping his hand from Steve’s shoulder. “I’m the one that wandered off. Wayne jokes he wanted to put me on a leash when I was a kid because of it.” 

“You know, that makes sense.” Steve’s smile returns and Eddie mentally pats himself on the back. “Anyways, see anything worth the trip?”

Eddie steps closer, equal parts emboldened and weakened by the adrenaline, and pulls Steve into a hug. If Steve ever asks him why, he’ll write it off as the come-down from hysteria but he needs to feel Steve’s heartbeat more than his own right now. One arm around his neck, the other around his waist, and Eddie just… squeezes. 

He doesn’t expect Steve to hug him back. 

To his surprise, he feels Steve’s arms come up and pull him tight, one around his waist and the other wrapping around his upper back, one hand resting carefully on the back of his head. Eddie inhales the scent of what’s left of Steve’s cologne and lets himself rest, the throbbing of his heart synchronizing with Steve’s. 

It’s a lovely fantasy, pretending this isn’t just Steve being Steve and comforting someone who looks like Hell. 

Too soon, Steve pulls back, both hands still in place but their bodies just inches apart. Under the moonlight, Steve’s eyes sparkle and his hair glistens, shades of copper and hazel, two of Eddie’s new favorite colors. 

He swallows and nods in delayed response to Steve’s question. 

“Yeah, yeah I definitely did. You?"

Something different coats Steve's expression, something soft and fond– tender, even– and Eddie isn't sure exactly what to make of it. Or of the warmth that blooms in his chest. Steve moves one hand to brush a clump of Eddie's hair out of his face and cradles Eddie's cheek, far too delicate for him to understand. 

"No ghosts, but yeah. Definitely found something worth the trip." 

Eddie swallows and watches as Steve comes closer, and then closer still. Closer until his lips graze Eddie's, a silent question, one that Eddie returns without hesitation. 

When Eddie nearly kissed Steve in the Upside Down, he'd imagined it full of desperation and fear, terror and hopelessness. Now, still surrounded by ghosts but none that can touch them, their first kiss is vibrant– full of light, full of life in stark contrast to their surroundings. 

Like their hug, it's over too soon, pulling apart and resting their foreheads against one another. Steve laughs, a low rumble in his chest and shakes his head. "Please tell me we don't have to tell our friends our first day was in a cemetery?" 

Eddie smiles and nods. "Of course we do. Can't imagine anything more metal."

[thesimquarter]

hello! sims 2 miniopolis update!

first of all, my current sims 2 urbz sims >:3 outside of the obvious change of a default skin, they don't look that different compared to my old versions of them. But! believe me they are better.as well, this time! there's the DS exclusive characters and a few sims intended to be townies. In order, Lloyd, Red Man, Daschell Swank, Chet R. Chase, Bucki Brock's sister, Joe from the Flea Market (yes, he does have a name), Ava Cadavra, and Gordie Puck. Indeed, they're very red.

And an update to the town in general! I've finished most of the easy lots now, mostly having harder lots to do now. Such as the Mausoleum, Circus, Brownstones + Slice O'Life (which I… attempted. can you believe that the map of this game doesn’t follow the laws of physics?), etc.

New lots include: - Junked Schoolbus (which IS connected to the Chopper Garage visually but they aren't the same lot) - Chopper Garage (which i am not going to put underneath the road/jail! it looks cool in-game, but possibly impossible to do in the sims 2 but it makes no sense spatially!! the other side of the garage would just be underground!!!) - Cemetery (Mostly just empty buildings for aesthetics. No graves… yet. and there probably won’t be until the final version of the hood.) - Miniopolis Chronicle (TINY) - Miniopolis Hospital + University (if this was ts3 i probably would have made them separately) - Club Xizzle (what is it supposed to look like on the outside + should there be two?) - Glasstown Megamall - Cinema d'Urbania (how do you make a cinema in this game? big TV?)

I redid King Tower as well, just to make it fill out a 3x3 lot instead of a 2x2 lot, and Café Multiplaya has a new outdoor seating area (to fill in space). The Coffee Shop, the Market, and Glasstown apartments were in my last post, just kinda in the background. The Market has a lot of creative liberties taken to it, as I just didn't like how it translated into the Sims (as in it's made to represent the real-life French Quarter Market more). The Glasstown Apartment has a few other units in it for some of the Urbz sims (more on that in a bit!)

I removed pretty much, all the elevation from the .s4c terrain. It's easy to put back butttt, the sims 2 just doesn't work in a way that's friendly to sloped lots (and simcity 4 for slopes that take <1 unit of distance, you can't make steep cliffs in these games. so, basically, due to the compactness of the city, there isn’t enough room to add in slopes without making it all janky). They may come back at the end if we can Wizard the slopes to work the lots, but for now...

Ignore the weird road off the Sim Quarter. I was experimenting with what could be done with the riverboat. I was thinking about putting it on a beach lot and making a joke about it being temporarily landlocked (read: i already did) and was trying to find a good, functional place to put it. There may be other ways to do a riverboat though… hmmm

Anyways onto housing for the Sims. So, the Glasstown Apartments has a few more units to fit in a few other characters (Lottie Cash (I did manage to squeeze a bowling alley in there), Lily Gates, and Darius) but other than that? Very little! (I did Ewan’s House. however, it’s just a box; i took modest pretty literally). I might make a post soon where I talk about where each Urb would probably live, just as an excuse to talk to myself for a little while.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Is there any sort of supporting vampire index? I read the first five books back in high school and have been slowly making my way through the entire series (currently mid merrick) this year. But recently it feels like every other day someone brings up an important character from the later books that already appeared, or was implied in the show.

Nonny, you're in luck :)

Anne herself provides us with one in "Prince Lestat" and in "Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis" :) Obviously the short descriptions refer to the book versions. I would take note of Sevraine (who is Gabrielle's implied girlfriend later on!), Seth and especially Fareed, and definitely Rhoshamandes and Amel here. Gregory, too. And Viktor (whose summary does not contain the reveal btw) and Rose. These at the very least :) - let me know if you want to know more details!

I'll paste the character list from PLatRoA here! SPOILERS though - so under the cut!

Characters and Places in the Vampire Chronicles

Akasha—Queen of ancient Egypt six thousand years ago, and the first vampire ever created, through a merger with the spirit Amel. The story is told in The Vampire Lestat and in The Queen of the Damned.

Allesandra—A Merovingian princess, daughter of King Dagobert I, brought into the Blood in the seventh century by Rhoshamandes. First introduced in The Vampire Lestat as a mad nameless vampire living with the Children of Satan under Les Innocents Cemetery in Paris. She also appears in The Vampire Armand in the Renaissance where she is named, and later in Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis.

Amel—A spirit who created the first vampire six thousand years ago by merging with the body of the Egyptian Queen Akasha. The story is told in The Vampire Lestat and in The Queen of the Damned. Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis continue the story of Amel.

Antoine—A French musician exiled from Paris to Louisiana and brought into the Blood by Lestat around the middle of the nineteenth century. Referred to as “the musician” in Interview with the Vampire. Later appears in Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis. A talented violinist and pianist and composer.

Arion—A black vampire of ancient times introduced in Blackwood Farm. At least two thousand years old, perhaps older. Possibly from India.

Arjun—A prince of the Chola dynasty in India, brought into the Blood by Pandora around 1300. Appears in Blood and Gold and also in Pandora.

Armand—One of the pillars of the Vampire Chronicles. Armand is a Russian from Kiev, sold into slavery as a boy, and made a vampire in Renaissance Venice by the Vampire Marius. He is introduced in Interview with the Vampire, and appears in numerous novels in the Vampire Chronicles, telling his own story in The Vampire Armand. The founder of the coven at Trinity Gate in New York. Armand maintains a house in Paris in Saint-Germain-des- Prés, which functions as the Paris Court for Prince Lestat.

Avicus—An Egyptian vampire who first appears in Marius’s memoir, Blood and Gold. Appears again in Prince Lestat.

Benedict—A Christian monk of the seventh century in France, brought into the Blood by Rhoshamandes. Benedict is the vampire from whom the alchemist Magnus stole the Blood, a theft described in The Vampire Lestat. Appears in Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis as Rhoshamandes’s companion and lover.

Benji Mahmoud—A twelve-year-old Palestinian Bedouin boy, brought into the Blood by Marius in 1997. Benji originates the vampire radio station heard round the world in Prince Lestat. Resides at Trinity Gate in New York and sometimes at the Court of Prince Lestat in France. First appears in The Vampire Armand when he is living in New York with his companion, Sybelle.

Bianca Solderini—Venetian courtesan brought into the Blood by Marius in Blood and Gold around 1498.

Château de Lioncourt—Lestat’s ancestral castle in the Massif Central in France, splendidly restored and the home of the new dazzling and glamorous Court of the Vampires with its orchestra, theater, and frequent formal balls. The adjacent village, including an inn and a church and several shops, has also been restored to house mortal workers and visitors to the Château.

Children of Satan—A network of medieval vampire covens, populated by vampires who sincerely believed they were children of the Devil, doomed to roam the world in rags, accursed, feeding on the blood of innocent humans to do the Devil’s will. Their most famous covens were in Rome and in Paris. The coven kidnapped many of the fledglings of Rhoshamandes until he finally left France to get away from them. And the Children of Satan in Rome spelled catastrophe for Marius and his great Venetian household in the Renaissance. Armand told of his experiences with the Children of Satan in The Vampire Armand.

Chrysanthe—A merchant’s widow from the Christian city of Hira, brought into the Blood by Nebamun, newly risen and named Gregory in the fourth century. Wife of Gregory. Introduced, along with Gregory, in Prince Lestat.

Cimetière des Innocents—An ancient cemetery in the city of Paris until it was destroyed near the end of the eighteenth century. Underneath this cemetery lived the Coven of the Children of Satan, presided over by Armand, which is described by Lestat in The Vampire Lestat. Referred to in the novels as “Les Innocents.”

Claudia—An orphan of five or six years old, brought into the Blood around 1794 by Lestat and Louis in New Orleans. Long dead. Her story is told in Interview with the Vampire. Later appears as a spirit in Merrick, though the appearance is suspect.

Cyril—An ancient Egyptian vampire, maker of Eudoxia in Blood and Gold, and named for the first time in Prince Lestat. Age unknown.

Daniel Molloy—The nameless “boy” interviewer in Interview with the Vampire. Brought into the Blood by Armand in The Queen of the Damned. Also appears in Blood and Gold living with Marius. Also in Prince Lestat.

David Talbot—Introduced as an elderly member of the Talamasca, an order of psychic detectives, in The Queen of the Damned. Becomes an important character in The Tale of the Body Thief, and also solicits Pandora’s story from her in Pandora. A pillar of the Vampire Chronicles.

Davis—A black dancer from Harlem, a member of the Fang Gang, brought into the Blood by Killer sometime in 1985. Introduced in The Queen of the Damned. Further described in Prince Lestat.

Eleni—A survivor of the Children of Satan who helps found the Théâtre des Vampires in Paris in the eighteenth century; corresponds with the Vampire Lestat after he leaves Paris to travel the world. A fledgling of Rhoshamandes made a vampire in the early Middle Ages.

Enkil—Ancient King of Egypt, husband of the great Queen Akasha, the second vampire to be brought into existence. His story is told in The Vampire Lestat and The Queen of the Damned.

Everard de Landen—A fledgling of Rhoshamandes from the early Middle Ages who first appears in Blood and Gold and is named in Prince Lestat.

Fareed—Anglo Indian by birth, a physician and researcher, brought into the Blood by Seth to be a healer and researcher of the vampires. A major character introduced in Prince Lestat.

Flannery Gilman—An American female medical doctor, biological mother of Viktor, and brought into the blood by Fareed and Seth. Part of their medical and research team working with the Undead.

Flavius—A Greek vampire, a slave purchased by Pandora in the city of Antioch and brought into the Blood by Pandora in the early centuries of the Common Era.

Gabrielle—Lestat’s mother, a noblewoman of breeding and education, brought into the Blood by her own son in 1780 in Paris. A wanderer who dresses in male attire. A familiar figure in the background throughout the Vampire Chronicles.

Gregory Duff Collingsworth—Known as Nebamun in ancient times, a lover of Queen Akasha and made a blood drinker by her to lead her Queens Blood troops against the First Brood. Known today as Gregory, owner of a powerful pharmaceutical empire in the modern world. Husband of Chrysanthe.

Gremt Stryker Knollys—A powerful and mysterious spirit who has created for himself over time a physical body that is a replica of a human body. Connected with the founding of the secret Order of the Talamasca. Introduced in Prince Lestat.

Hesketh—A Germanic cunning woman, brought into the Blood by Teskhamen in the first century. Now a ghost who has managed to produce a physical body for herself. Also connected with the origins of the secret Order of the Talamasca. Introduced in Prince Lestat.

Jesse Reeves—An American woman of the twentieth century, a blood descendant of the ancient Maharet and brought into the Blood by Maharet

herself in 1985 in The Queen of the Damned. Jesse was also a mortal member of the Talamasca and worked with David Talbot in the Order.

Khayman—An ancient Egyptian vampire, made by Queen Akasha, and rebelling against her with the First Brood. His story is told in The Queen of the Damned.

Killer—An American male vampire, founder of the Fang Gang in The Queen of the Damned. Of unknown history or origin.

Lestat de Lioncourt—The hero of the Vampire Chronicles, made a vampire by Magnus near the end of the eighteenth century, the maker of a number of vampires, including Gabrielle, his mother; Nicolas de Lenfent, his friend and lover; Louis, the narrator of Interview with the Vampire; and Claudia, the child vampire. Presently known as Prince Lestat by one and all.

Louis de Pointe du Lac—The vampire who started the Vampire Chronicles by telling his story to Daniel Molloy in Interview with the Vampire, an account of his own origins, which differs in some ways from Lestat’s own account in The Vampire Lestat. A French colonial plantation owner made a vampire by Lestat in 1791. Appears most prominently in the first Chronicle, and in Merrick, and in Prince Lestat and Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis.

Magnus—An elderly medieval alchemist who stole the Blood from a young vampire, Benedict, in France. The vampire who kidnapped and brought Lestat into the Blood in 1780. Now a ghost, sometimes appearing solid, and at other times as an illusion.

Maharet—One of the oldest vampires in the world, twin to Mekare. The twins are known for their red hair and their power as mortal witches. Made at the dawn of Vampire History, they are rebels leading the First Brood against Queen Akasha and her Queens Blood vampires. Maharet is beloved for her wisdom and for following all of her mortal descendants through the ages all over the world, whom she called the Great Family. Maharet tells her story—the story of the twins—in Queen of the Damned. She also figures in Blood and Gold and in Prince Lestat.

Marius—A pillar of the Vampire Chronicles. A Roman patrician who is kidnapped by the Druids and brought into the Blood by Teskhamen in the first century. Marius appears in The Vampire Lestat and numerous other books, including his own memoir, Blood and Gold. A vampire known for reason and gravitas. Much loved and admired by Lestat and others.

Mekare—Maharet’s twin sister, the powerful red-haired witch who communed with the invisible and potentially destructive spirit Amel, who later went into the body of Queen Akasha, creating the first vampire. The story of Mekare and Maharet is first told by Maharet in The Queen of the Damned. Mekare figures in Blood and Gold and in Prince Lestat.

Memnoch—A powerful spirit claiming to be the Judeo-Christian Satan. He tells his story to Lestat in Memnoch the Devil.

New Orleans—Figures prominently in the Vampire Chronicles as the home of Louis, Lestat, and Claudia for many years during the nineteenth century, at

which time they resided in a townhouse in the Rue Royale in the French Quarter. This house still exists and is in the possession of Lestat today, as it has always been. It was in New Orleans that Lestat encountered Louis and Claudia and made them vampires.

Notker the Wise—A monk and a musician and a composer brought into the Blood by Benedict around A.D. 880, maker of many boy-soprano vampires and other vampire musicians yet unnamed. Living in the Alps. Introduced in Prince Lestat.

Raymond Gallant—A faithful mortal scholar of the Talamasca, a friend to the Vampire Marius, presumed dead in the sixteenth century. Appears again in Prince Lestat.

Rhoshamandes—A male from ancient Crete, brought into the Blood at the same time as the female Sevraine, about five thousand years ago. A powerful and reclusive vampire obsessed with operatic music and performances, and the lover of Benedict. Lives in his castle on the island of Saint Rayne in the Outer Hebrides, traveling the world from time to time to see different operas in the great opera houses.

Rose—An American girl, rescued as a small child by Lestat from an earthquake in the Mediterranean around 1995. His ward. Lover and later spouse of Viktor. Introduced in Prince Lestat.

Saint Alcarius, Monastery of—The secret residence of Gremt, Teskhamen, and other supernatural elders of the Talamasca in France, near the Belgian border.

Saint Rayne— The island on which Rhoshamandes lives. Santino—An Italian vampire made during the time of the Black Death.

Longtime Roman coven master of the Children of Satan. Presumed dead.

Seth—The biological son of Queen Akasha, brought into the Blood by her after a youth of roaming the ancient world in search of knowledge in the healing arts. He is introduced in Prince Lestat and is the maker of Fareed and Flannery Gilman.

Sevraine—A remarkably beautiful Nordic female vampire, made by Nebamun (Gregory) against Akasha’s rules. Sevraine maintains her own underground court in the Cappadocian Mountains. A friend to female vampires. Introduced in Prince Lestat.

Sybelle—A young American pianist, beloved friend of Benji Mahmoud, and Armand, brought into the Blood by Marius in 1997. Introduced in The Vampire Armand.

The Talamasca—An ancient order of psychic detectives or researchers, dating back to the Dark Ages—an organization of mortal scholars who observe and record paranormal phenomena. Their origins are shrouded in mystery until they are revealed in Prince Lestat. They have Motherhouses in Amsterdam and outside of London, and retreat houses in many places, including Oak Haven in Louisiana. First introduced in The Queen of the Damned and

figuring in many Chronicles since. Vampires Jesse Reeves and David Talbot were mortal members of the Talamasca.

Teskhamen—Ancient Egyptian vampire, the maker of Marius as told by Marius in The Vampire Lestat. Presumed dead until modern times. Connected with the origins of the Talamasca. First named in Prince Lestat.

Théâtre des Vampires—A boulevard theater of the macabre, created by the refugees from the Children of Satan, funded by Lestat, and managed for decades by Armand, who had once been the coven master of the Children of Satan.

Thorne—A red-haired Viking vampire, made centuries ago in Europe by Maharet. Introduced in Blood and Gold.

Trinity Gate—A coven dwelling made up of three identical townhouses just off Fifth Avenue on the Upper East Side of New York. Armand is the founder of Trinity Gate. And it functions now as the American Court of Prince Lestat.

Viktor—An American boy, biological son of Dr. Flannery Gilman. His story is revealed in Prince Lestat. Lover and later spouse of Rose, Lestat’s ward.

[thepythakorean]

parallels between the boy and the heron and this painting, plus general analysis

Arnold Bocklin, Island of the Dead. 1880

i want to preface this by saying i am by no means an art history nerd, i just happen to know some stuff about the background of this painting in particular.

as soon as mahito is sucked into the tower floor he is standing at the shore of an island surrounded by an endless ocean. he is dwarfed by a large set of golden gates that say something like "those who seek my knowledge shall perish" and an even taller forest of cypress trees. these features all frame a white dolmen (primitive tomb usually made of giant rocks stacked like below) that beckons to him.

this scene immediately struck me since it has so many of the visual elements of the painting. mahito is even framed in the foreground to be so very small approaching these giant, daunting structures just like the boat heading for the island in the painting. besides the tombs, the cypress trees are also traditionally associated with mourning and death at least in europe/the mediterranean. other ghibli movies have lavish european aesthetics tied to characters (howl, yubaba, etc.) but it feels particularly intimate here given that mahito's great granduncle, the creator and ruler of this world, is apparently european and can only pass on his role to a direct descendant. (btw not saying the gaudy european decor signature of howl and yubaba aren't important to their characterization, it def is! i'm just saying it stood out to me in this movie especially.) the cliffs full of stone entrance passageways are prominent later in the movie as himi takes mahito through the parakeet's domain, and interestingly, in the delivery room where natsuko is, there is another dolmen behind her (can't find pics since the movie hasn't been uploaded yet urgh).

the backstory to the painting continues to parallel to the events of the story! so there's 5 versions of this painting. the first three versions were painted in a cemetery close to bocklin's residence which was also full of white headstones and sculptures, and cypress trees. one of his infant children, one of many children he lost, was buried there. the one i posted above is the first/second-- while bocklin was working on the first, a the soon-to-be wife of a politician visited his studio, saw the wip, and commissioned her own version with the added white figure and coffin to commemorate her first husband who had just died of diphtheria. already somewhat similar to how mahito's mother died in the hospital fire (well. she died from the fire but presumably she was there because she was sick) and when his father shortly remarried. these were also added to the initial wip and stuck in later versions of the painting. bocklin later wrote to her, "you will be able to dream yourself into the world of dark shadows". the movie is also very dreamlike-- it's a fantasy world filled with strange creatures, alternate versions of people he knows, and passages that seem to alter the fabric of time and space. people also seem to forget about it as soon as they leave even after spending long periods of time in it like a dream. the painting is also very dreamlike, but why? the warm lighting, maybe not in the version i posted but in a couple others, may explain it, but the island itself resembles the curtains and stage of a theater (referencing the audio clip below the description). even if it doesn't look EXACTLY like that to you, it's definitely a too-perfect little scene in a nebulous expanse of space. this theatrical quality is also shown in the movie by the parakeet uprising side plot as well as the scene when himi and mahito collapse in front of the delivery room-- the curtain falls directly in front of the viewer over them as though a stageplay just ended. oh and a friend mentioned to me how this is a classic hero's journey plot and mirrors orpheus in the underworld. island of the dead has also directly inspired NUMEROUS other works of art, including other paintings, stage productions, and symphonic poems. apparently the painting was so popular many people in berlin hung prints of it in their homes (i do too)! as i stated above though, a lot of the visual elements in the painting were already traditional symbols relating to death so i don't want to 100% conclude that miyazaki was directly inspired by this painting, he may have just also resonated with those symbols independent of bocklin which i still think is awesome.

the first time we see himi also reminded me of the painting. she's wearing a white dress and standing at the bow of a small wooden boat, and though her intentions are to save the warawara from the pelicans, she inevitably kills some of them too. visually and thematically she's like the white figure at the front of the rowboat in the painting. she acts as a guide for mahito (analogous to the rower? he traveled to this world of his own volition but needed a guide) for a good part of the movie and is a collage of life and death. she is a younger but kind of omniscient version of his dead mother; she's known all along she is mahito's mother but is about to be born into the world by the end of the movie and accepts her fate happily. she can control fire which envelops her like how she died in the real world, but is harmless to the touch unless she directs it as a weapon, and as we see with the warawara and pelicans it helps creation but also destroys much like fire's role in the natural world. natsuko, though a separate person from himi, is still connected as a sibling, and we see her wandering into the forest at the beginning of the movie while wearing white like himi, back turned to mahito, and that is what prompts him to first enter the tower. the strange nature of her character that doesn't adhere to a proper time or space parallels the way the white figure completely stands out in the painting, at least the ones with darker lighting. another crazy parallel surrounding fire and wwii between the painting and the movie is that the fourth version of this painting was destroyed during wwii due to bombing, again like how mahito's mother's hospital was presumably set on fire by bombing during the war.

the looming effects of war alluded to throughout the movie eventually tie into its resolution, when mahito accepts his new family that he initially rejected, his own imperfect being, and the fact that one must seek out love to be happy in this bitch of a world. his great granduncle is confused as to why mahito wouldn't want to recreate his own world like him. why would you want to return to the world that killed your mother and rejects you as a person? the world that forces your people to die in war and will eventually drop the deadliest weapon mankind has ever seen even a century from now onto your home? you can make everything perfect here! he's created something of a "paradise" himself, full of lush tropical plants, parakeets, and strange insects (some of them looked like the bugs from nausicaa, another fantastical world of lush nature which is also threatened by war. interesting), almost like a garden of eden, and it so happens to be at the very top of the tower. funnily enough, bocklin also painted this several years later:

Arnold Bocklin, Island of Life. 1888

i don't know much about this one so idk if it's an explicit companion piece to the island of the dead but it certainly looks like it. the similarities are now less apparent to the movie if there are any, it's much less lush but there are exotic plants and uh birds and stuff. this is definitely more likely a case of shared inspiration from the symbols themselves rather than movie directly looking at the painting. anyway clearly the promise of a perfect paradise isn't real, as this is interrupted by a war of his own unwitting creation, the uprising of the parakeets he wanted to breed in a paradise that literally bring about the end of the world. no world will ever be perfect when left long enough to its own devices. life finds a way! plus, this world was created through so much death (the construction workers in hazardous conditions, the way the tower keeps spiriting people away. btw in the english sub mahito's dad calls the whole ordeal a "disappearance" but he says "kamikakushi" in japanese which means "hidden by god" in reference to people who mysteriously disappeared as if from supernatural circumstances and yes that's the word they used in the japanese title of spirited away!!!) and is on the verge of collapsing from reality every three days just because of some building blocks?? the real world may be on fire but it'll go out/burn less badly someday, and at least it won't completely disappear in a snap, not in an easily imagined timescale for a human anyway. it's up to you to make the best of it, and this is what mahito decides. there are also visual allusions to other ghibli movies about the constantly present threat or consequences of war. the only other landmark aside from the island mahito lands on is a line of ships which kiriko later tells him are all fake. it immediately reminded me of the stream of planes in porco rosso which were the souls of dead fighter pilots moving on. the shadow people in the swamp were also reminiscent of those in the train in spirited away, which are never explained to my knowledge but the given that spirited away's characters are largely spirits and the way souls are so similarly designed in this movie makes me feel that they were also souls of people in spirited away.

through this imagined otherworld, there is also the blurring of lines between life and death, reality and imagination. himi plus her dyad with natsuko (they're sisters AND they look exactly the same AND both are mother figures to mahito) are great examples of this. mahito's mother is gone, he knew this and set foot into the world anyway. he rejected natsuko as his new mother but in going through the struggles of the tower he comes to accept familial love for her and even keeps confusing "natsuko" and "mom" while reaching out to her in the delivery room. a family is made up of different people but inevitably you will see each other in each person. in the delivery room scene we see the paper hanging from the ceiling lash out to attack and stick to mahito like tape, it even leaves red marks on him. this is one of the best scenes in the movie to me because of its visual contrast to him rushing to save his mother in the fire. in the fire scene, the real world around him is blurred and distorted and at times so is mahito and especially his mother. the fire doesn't seem to burn him or his clothes (i could be remembering that wrong tho) and the scene cuts off before it shows him possibly going in further. in the delivery room, everything is drawn with clean lineart, no stylization. there is no mistaking the reality of this situation even though this world is conjured, the dawning realization upon mahito that this person is his mother is so visceral that he actively fights through the paper literally snapping its jaws and natsuko spitting her hatred towards him. when mahito is ready to leave the tower, himi leaves through a separate door to be born as his mother sometime in the past though she is not a warawara and knows what has happened/will happen, an exception that further demonstrates the nonlinear nature of time and space in the movie.

after coming out of the tower, the heron tells mahito he should forget everything that happened in there. even his grandmother seemed to have forgotten the whole year she spent in there (it seems like tower time reflects irl time judging by the events of the movie). anything that comes out doesn't just disappear, it transforms into a real-life counterpart as we saw with the pelicans leaving as they were (presumably minus the ability to speak) and the parakeets going from big bloodthirsty things to regular parakeets. so mahito can't just forget, especially because he comes out changed from his experiences in there, not just himself personally but also his changed relationships with natsuko and the heron, and also his little souvenirs. then the movie abruptly ends with mahito narrating that they left for tokyo again shortly after the war ended. i like to think that this was a hopeful ending where mahito maintained that character development and was able to welcome natsuko and his new sibling into his family while being able to seek more friends and family in the future. i've seen other analyses talking about how this movie was semi-autobiographical for miyazaki and i can see it, how events early in his life shaped his personality and how he had to fight to find beauty in a world that otherwise treated him poorly, so i'm glad he ended the movie on that note, although in less words. pretty similar to how spirited away ended, although there was arguably more loss involved, but still hopeful, and that's what i find so powerful about this movie. and like this movie, spirited away involves a dyad between yubaba and zeniba as a device for the hardships and beauty of life, how they're not so discreet at times. as a last kindasorta tie-in to bocklin's work, i'll point again to the island of life which was created after the island of the dead, plus a composition directly inspired by the island of the dead, a symphonic poem with the same title written by sergei rachmaninoff. the last time i listened to this was in high school and it's like. 20 minutes long so i'm too impatient to give it a relisten now but from my vague recollection plus some quick searches it's a very somber piece that escalates into emotional climaxes yet still contains warmer tones, and goes back to the same "rowing" motif at the end. it weaves together evocations of life and death in one piece, also illustrating how the two really are so closely connected.

tl;dr, this was me the entire movie because miyazaki SEEMS to be heavily inspired by this one symbolist painting i happen to like a lot:

also also here's a self portrait of bocklin:

yes, all of his paintings are that cool.

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Eight, Something Real

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

note, ok this is a short chapter

Masterlist

-

THREE YEARS AGO

He looked at her like nobody, especially no man, had ever before. His eyes swirled with a darkness she could only pinpoint as desire, and it drew her right in. Though any attention would have done so, the only men she knew was her father and the regulars who needed to confess sins each holy day. 

She didn’t know better. If only she had the tools to understand each touch or word spoken of false sincerity, she’d have kept more dignity than she’d have cared to share. 

Deacon Percy, who was vying to be a priest, would be staying at the Monastery a few months, along with an unnamed Cardinal, and small entourage for business too classified for lowly nuns. Sabine and the rest of her Sisters knew for men to be allowed to stay upon their grounds outside of prayer and confession- it was for good reason. Never would such temptation freely walk the halls.

So when Percy looked at her like she was the vast sky and all its glittering stars, like he’d drop everything to be with her- Sabine knew it was fate. It had to be! The silly ritual she performed years ago was legit! 

Nights sneaking about under the different cycles of moons. 

Meetings behind stairwells and in the emptied kitchens. Him taking her along the grounds, past the cemetery, chasing her about as she giggled in glee safe from prying ears. 

He talked as if he knew, saw, and understood the entire world. A glimmer in his eyes as he told her stories of great religious feats he’d seen, of masterful care towards the needy he sought out to bring to the world. Her innocence was to his advantage, open ears he could manipulate with ease as she had not taken permanent vows. 

He thought Sabine to be the most beautiful woman ever, his own version of Virgin Thais in a sense. The lost girl at sea to the mercy of the Father.

Percy would wonder how to make her his loyal follower, how if he could transfix her permanently, perhaps she could bring others along with her. His own little coven of nuns. The great Father must have had this in mind the whole time!

He took Sabine’s first kiss. 

But it took a turn when he tried to take her virginity, one night under the full moon, where the white moonflower bloomed. Where the dense waft of seawater met the rocky shores of the Monastery, under a large willow tree past the gates down a gravel path. 

“I- No. Kissing is one thing.” Sabine glowered at him after she’d shoved him back. She readjusted her habit that he’d tried to shed from her skin. 

Red blared in her mind, in her vision. The last couple meetings her stomach had been churning with all the wrong feelings, this only reaffirmed her gut instincts. Anger and sadness swirled in her, her blood feeling thick as it coursed painfully inside her veins. Bubbling resentment threatened to boil out from her at him. 

“You should feel ashamed.” She crossed her arms as she stared down at Percy, having gained feet between where he still sat. 

“Sabine, we’ll be as one, it will be okay. I love you, you know that.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She was a fool! He’d used her! Nights of losing sleep, of doubt gnawing at her, of tears in the washroom, a loss of appetite. And oh how her Sisters knew something was wrong, trying to carefully help her escape his orbit. But a man who loved her would not make her choose or feel pressure, make a laughing stock of her as she stood there with tears cascading down her cheeks. 

“Do not talk to me again.” And she was off, racing back up the path, past the gates and inside the Monastery. Breathing heavy through her sobs as she collapsed in her bed, shaking and cold, doing her best to not wake her roommate. 

It was a dance afterwards, to avoid him.

At night she’d lay awake regretting everything, remembering how his fingers would go too low for comfort. How he’d tease and beg, try to see how far she’d let him go. But swept up in the grand gestures and beautiful words, and the ritual. And eventually she spilled to the matriarch, spilled it all as she cried begging for forgiveness. Told how he played her like a fiddle until it all clicked when he attempted to force off her clothes. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew exactly who to choose- the girl who didn’t truly believe, just needed the sisterhood to survive. Which Sabine hadn’t realized it at the time. 

So close to taking her permanent vows yet she couldn’t do it. At the altar, only steps away she turned and fled. Three days later Deacon Percy was gone, his room cleared out and rumors swept the foreboding, empty stone halls that he had become one with the sea. All Sabine was left with was to piece herself back together. And those pieces as they fit back into the puzzle of herself- they did not conform to who she’d been. Percy’s words about how he viewed their religion as easy to mold, as everyone being fools to think it real- they stuck with her. She didn’t want to be a pawn. But she didn’t want to use others. Sabine wanted to live by her own code!

-

PRESENT

One with the sea- Mihawk can only assume the Deacon was dead, bones at the bottom of the ocean muddled within the sand, or swept to some distant shores. It would be a fitting end in a world that was ruled by the ocean. 

And if he wasn’t dead well… Mihawk considered hunting him down to the very ends of this earth to make sure he was.

The wetness that lined her lashes, the solemn look as she told the story. His heart ached as she talked of her foolishness, that she shouldn’t have been so blind. It wasn’t her fault, he wanted to tell her. 

“I will say the three years since?” Sabine sighed (the only part of the story she left out to Mihawk was that of the ritual), “I think I’ve had the most growth, more understanding of the world and myself than at any point up to then. I hope you don’t see me as naive, it’s embarrassing to tell.”

“I don’t see you as such.” He responded. Words of comfort stayed on his tongue, not his specialty. 

At one point Sabine had gotten up from the bed to pace as she told her story. Finally she stopped flitting and sat beside Mihawk once again. A nervous wreck, butterflies swarming her stomach as her cheeks grew pink. Suddenly hyper aware of how close to her he was. In her personal bubble, she could smell his cologne and feel the warmth that radiated off him. 

She scooched closer, their legs just touching. Her hand grabbed one of his, a sudden move that made his eyes widen ever so slightly. How she gripped two of his thick fingers, clearly the wheels in her head turned as she thought. Face heating up more. He watched her with a curious look, letting her take the lead. 

Sabine deserved to be in the main seat of her life, the navigator of her own ship. She did not deserve manipulation using her religion and her vulnerable position without family and money to fall back onto. She was intelligent while still believing wholeheartedly in good, a trait lost upon many. Lost upon himself, as if he’d never once believed in good or been good.

Her actions are awkward. But he let her go forth with them under a careful guise as he watched, feeling burned alive by her touch. Mihawk’s heart hammered in his chest as her touch shot electricity down his nerves. 

But he would not let her continue. Not like this, not yet at least. Not even as she touched along his jaw tracing his facial hair. And not as her lips parted. 

“Don’t, my dear.” He whispered softly, no intentions to hurt her.

But the hurt flashed across her features.

“Not yet. Let me explain,” Mihawk tucked a free piece of her hair behind her ear, “I won’t use you like he did, not when you’re vulnerable after telling me that important part of your past. You need a clear head, need to have me in the background when you make your choices. Don’t feel obliged just because I listened to you, have helped you.” 

“You want to wait, to see what I decide?”

“Yes. I still do.”

“Thank you… Though, throwing myself out the window seems like a good plan right now.” She sighed, a semi mortified smile plastered on her lips as she fell back onto the bed. Shaking her head as she stared up at the plastered ceiling, not feeling bad but good? 

He couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t be too embarrassed, I don’t want you regretting anything still.” 

“Oh I’m embarrassed. But, suppose it’s good we can already laugh about it.” 

“I suppose so. I respect you’re still a nun, that you’re on a sabbatical right now. I won’t cross your boundaries whether you know they’re there or not. And I won’t feed the fire that is in your religious confusion.”

As if he could steal her heart anymore than he already had! A true gentleman, even if he was a pirate by nature. You couldn’t convince her otherwise. She felt warm and fuzzy inside, like her heart was going to burst. An ache to reach out to touch him again, feel the connection of their skin as their nerves would alight in voltaic sparks. 

“I’m thankful I met you. Who would have thought?” She grinned. 

His words helped her in more ways than one. Because she hadn’t thought of her situation as religious confusion. She let herself believe in a demon rather than critically thinking about it, to let herself sink in it so she’d drown rather than admit her struggling feelings. Her doubt. But Sabine also knew more than ever she wanted Mihawk. 

-

posted: august 19 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

The 2003 Script, Act 2b

Act 1 | Act 2a

We're breaking down The 2003 Script act by act!

In Act 2a, Ben stole the Declaration with less tension and more shenanigans, the henchmen are being picked off one by one, and Abigail is significantly less on board with this whole treasure hunt plan than in the final film. The news is reporting on an FBI manhunt for Ben & Riley, and on to Philadelphia we must go!

The FBI come to Patrick’s house and:

SADUSKY Your son's in a lot of trouble, Mr. Gates. He's stolen a National Treasure.

→ I don’t have any affection for Cinema Sins but…Role credits!

Also, Patrick repeats Ben’s line about needing to do something wrong in order to do something right, which is a sweet callback and suggests they both got the line from the same place. Ben’s grandfather? One of the Founding Fathers?

Philadelphia

The setup of this sequence is similar to the movie, with the following exceptions:

This whole sequence is framed by a reenactment battle taking place outside of Independence Hall.

Ben and Abigail have already changed clothes, and are waiting here while Riley gets the next clue. (They bond by pointing out inaccuracies in the reenactment.)

The schoolboy is one of several people Riley employs to decode the cypher. The next person he sends is a prostitute.

The FBI, not Ian, stop and question the prostitute when Riley solves the last piece of the clue and disappears.

Said clue is still “Pass and Stow” but the full riddle is:

“The trove unfolds for he who tolls Pass and…”

↳ lame.

Ben and Abigail aren’t wow’d by Riley figuring out that the clue leads to the Liberty Bell, but he makes no further attempt to impress them (i.e. the daylight saving time bit, which is one of my favorite parts of the movie.)

Both the FBI and Ian are on Ben’s tail throughout this sequence.

→ In the previous parts we talked about differentiation, and this is another place where that occurs between this script and the film. Rather than having both Ian and the FBI going at Ben and the gang, as written here, we get to deal exclusively with Ian until he gets the Declaration, then the FBI steps in to become Ben’s next problem. It might seem like having two antagonists would be better than one, but this is a case of less is more. By focusing on one antagonist, then the other, we get to explore the unique problems each pose for our heroes. (Like, the FBI isn’t going to kill Ben, and Ian can’t arrest him.) In this version, they blur together and neither one gets to shine. In fact, they start to feel like they’re almost working together to thwart Ben.

Abigail pulls Ben in for a Captain America: The Winter Solder-style fake-out kiss when they spot Ian and Shaw in the crowd. It means nothing, she swears.

Up in the bell tower, the clue isn’t a shadow, it’s a plaque commemorating the person who rang the bell when the Declaration was signed.

Abigail both knows about this guy and his plaque off the top of her head, which Ben doesn’t, and knows that the Liberty Bell rang E Flat. Damn girl.

→ I do like that this version gives Abigail and her historical knowledge more time to shine. However, as we will soon see, that comes with a price.

Ben pries the plaque up with the bayonet of a musket (that I think he took from the reenactors, but this part is unclear to me. Did you have better luck understanding it?)

The glasses are under the plaque. Riley is very unimpressed with this as a clue.

The Declaration was hidden in the musket barrel.

↳ clever, I'll grant them.

They unroll it, and Ben, then Abigail look at it through the glasses.

It shows a 3D rendering of a church and cemetery, with an X-marks-the-spot among the graves.

Riley has been griping that there is no X-marks-the-spot on any of the clues for the entire treasure hunt. He’s very excited that there is one here.

→ Overall, this script is much more genre-aware than the finished film. Once again, I think the film made the right choice. The script seems to be trying to lampshade all the places where someone could conceivably go “Hey, I’ve seen that in another treasure hunt.” It seems like it’s trying to defend itself against being derivative, but it’s those very mentions that feel most derivative of other stories. The final film just enjoys—and let’s us enjoy—the fact that it is a new entry in the Action-Adventure Treasure Hunt sub-genre without comparing itself (and thereby asking us to compare it) with previous movies.

Ian and crew catch them in the bell tower.

Ben and Abigail climb onto the belfry while Riley tap dances around gunfire as Powell shoots through the trapdoor.

Outside, Ben and Abigail are looking at a 20 foot drop onto the roof. Ben holds the Declaration while she jumps, then throws it down to her and jumps after.

Powell bursts through the trapdoor and starts shooting at them on the roof.

Riley “KIPS DOWN from outside the Belfry’s archway and…KICKS POWELL in the FACE!”

→ Because that’s a thing your tech nerd can usually do. Pretty cool though.

Outside, the Declaration falls, Ben and Abigail dive to save it, and they wind up with Abigail hanging off the building by the gutter, with Ben stopped on the edge of the roof. It’s a three-story drop to the ground, and Powell is coming. (He kicked Riley back through the trapdoor).

→ It is this moment, dear readers, that drove me to search my cupboards for alcohol during my first read of this script a few years ago. It was this moment that had me hysterical with gratitude that this is not the final version of National Treasure, and flabbergasted and appalled that this could have been National Treasure.

Ben, he um…

…he shoves the Declaration of Independence down Abigail’s bra, then stomps on the gutter so it starts to tear away from the building, leaving her to ride the thing down.

For what it’s worth, she is “aghast.”

There’s a whole lot more action now.

Ben tackles Powell to keep him from using the access stairs to get to Abigail, but

Ian and Shaw grab Abigail and throw her into a Corvette.

Ben, and Riley, now back from the belfry, run along the roof in the direction of the car.

There’s a huge gap between Independence Hall and its adjoining building, Congress Hall.

Ben jumps and makes it.

Powell jumps, misses, and fucking dies.

→ Again, we are picking off the henchmen like flies in this version

Riley watches Powell fall, looks away, and decides to take the stairs.

→ This is funnier if you don’t kill a guy to make the joke maybe?

Anyway, Ben jumps onto a tree, which lands him on a moving truck.

→ Why yes, we are doing another car chase.

In the Corvette, Abigail’s in the passenger seat, and Shaw’s behind her with a gun to her head. She tries to stop Ian from taking the document out from between her tits but she can’t.

→ Btw, the script is going with “bosom” to describe this all. As in

…And SHOVES it down into Abigail's bosom. She's aghast.

Not as aghast as I am though.

Ben jumps onto the roof of the Corvette and dodges some bullets, until Sadusky sees the situation and runs after them.

Sadusky has a shot at Ben and can’t bring himself to take it.

His finger tightens on the trigger…but…he…just…can't…do…it.

→ That’s interesting! It's a shade of the mutual respect Ben and Sadusky also develop in the final film, but much more dramatic. Clearly Sadusky sees something in Ben. Himself? A Purpose™? Stories he also grew up with?

Ian crashes into the reenactors. Ben reaches through the window and grabs the Declaration. Ian tries to stop him but Abigail bites him.

HOWEVER, Ian turns the wheel, Ben and the Declaration go flying. The reenactment horses stomp all over the thing, which is just in a plastic sleeve by the way, not a hard case.

Ben dives into the stampede but something something, Ian drives up and swipes the document.

Abigail ELBOWS HIM IN THE FACE, and Ben pulls her to safety right before Ian can find the last letter of “bitch.”

IAN You little bitc—

Then, Ben jumps on one of the reenactor’s horses, ready to chase after Ian and the Declaration...

...until Sadusky stops him at gunpoint.

Both Abigail and Ben are taken into custody.

→ Framing this sequence with the reenactment battle is a cool idea actually! It lets Ben literally live out the yankees vs redcoats battle for American independence. Is it a bit on the nose? Sure. But Ben stealing a (fake) British Officer's horse to chase down the Declaration is pretty badass so 'rule of cool' might win here. That said I don't this I miss this in the final film. I love how much more intimate they made this entire sequence.

FBI Interrogation

Sadusky questions Ben, and the call from Ian comes in off screen. For ever hour they don’t comply, Ian will cut off a piece of the Declaration and send it to them.

Agent Johnson believes Ben and Ian have been in on it together the whole time.

Ian calls again and we only hear Ben’s side of the phone call as Ian directs him to the Intrepid.

The Intrepid

Cue our requisite sexy shirtless scene of Ben getting wired by the FBI. (Remember, Ben’s in his 20s in this version)

The chopper is still a decoy, but it’s because they already think Ian is coming in it. Much less dramatic than the final version of the scene.

Instead of saying he found Door Number 3, before he jumps Ben tells Sadusky that Abigail had nothing to do with this.

→ This is unfortunately true. Abigail has more sass but less agency overall in this version, I would say.

A diver pops out of the water…and it’s RILEY.

Riley then does a BRITISH ACCENT because HE’S THE ONE who was calling the FBI while IMPERSONATING IAN.

→ I get that this is fun, but I really like that Ben and Ian are forced to work together, and I like that Abigail is the one making the plans to set up the escape.

Back at the FBI, Sadusky let’s Abigail out of her cell because he believes Ben that she wan’t involved.

→ ?? I mean that feels a little too easy but whatever.

And thus we move into ACT 3!

With any luck there will not be a six month wait between parts this time.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

I don't know who else to ask about this, sorry, but I'd like to ask about Gilbert in Berlin, I know the history (ussr, west vs east), but personality-wise, does Gilbert "fit" in Berlin?

OH, don't apologize! I love this ask. Gilbert is my OG blorbaux lol. Anyone can ask me anything about him! My thought Is very much yes. It's not a natural inherent fit the way I write Matt in the woods, Arthur at sea, or Alfred in the sky or space, but he does fit.

Gilbert was born the Teutonic Knights, a military order with a very strong sense of what we might call unit-based identities in a modern military context. He exchanged that for the Duchy of Prussia, the Kingdom of Prussia, the German Empire, and maybe East Germany? The memory of a last generation of East Prussians who, until recently, would have remembered what his Königsberg looked like, who might remember that pre-war world he no longer recognizes when the Wall falls? The Teutonic Knights? Who is he supposed to be, still breathing in this world where everything he once was, is a relic of a bygone and disavowed age? Who makes us what we are as people? I think Gilbert did what he's always done. He looked at the world around him and found his place.

Gilbert has Ludwig, his life's work. The rest he can find in Berlin if he looks, if he wants to live. And in my version, he very much wants to live. He has been boxed up over a long post-war winter like the statues in the Volkspark Friedrichshain, but when spring comes and he’s in his city again, it's just another transition.

The Vietnamese restaurant in an odd little corner of a warehouse. The children laughing in the Mauerpark. The two young lovers fucking their brains out in the apartment next door, finding a new joy in each other's bodies. The annoying tourists. The dead places of Cold War voids bursting with greenery. The Brandenburg gate flooded with light. Marjellchen, after dark, three glasses of honey schnaps past drunk. The 24-hour clubs, bodies grinding on each other, lights flashing, sweat, and lousy house electro music. Orgies in glow paint, he's not quite sure he pulls off. Freedom past the point of reason. The visiting young historian was drinking coffee overlooking the cemetery on Greifswalder Strasse, trying to come to terms with what the place was supposed to mean. The idiot tourists at Checkpoint Charlie and the Fernseturm. Haggling with the Polish babcia at the markets over antiques. Art students smoking and bemoaning the state of the world. Stiff federal government workers. The whackos ball out at the train first thing in the morning. Every little facet reflects who he’s been and could be now. Berlin might not fit him like a glove, but he can be himself in its excess of freedom. Especially for him, being born in an actual religious institution so repressed even a thousand years of hetero pining for Erzsé was taboo, he finds some real peace in a post-war, post-war Berlin. If there was ever a city for a thousand-year-old military machine to remake itself into an actual person, it is Berlin.

He just has to convince NATO‌ to get the ankle monitor off him first lol.

[ashton-slashton]

It's that time...

GEORGE C. SCOTT CHRISTMAS CAROL TIME!

I love this movie, in my opinion it's the PERFECT adaptation (I'm not including the Muppets version because otherwise that would be the winner).

But this one... oh my god, it's ACTUALLY spooky! It's ACTUALLY appalling, the way we see people suffer in this one from Scrooge's cruelty, and the cruelty of men like Scrooge.

We get Ignorance and Want in that one, which to my knowledge only a couple of filmed adaptations have done??

And George C. Scott... he's the most perfect Scrooge I've ever seen??? Because he's BELIEVABLE. There's something to be said for how naturally he slips into the role of a cruel old man made to exemplify the cruelty of the upper class. A man who was generally regarded as grumpy and crotchety but also kind. Hell, he once threatened to quit a movie entirely because the director was speaking poorly of the bit actors.

And the Christmas Ghosts!!! Oh my GOD the Christmas Ghosts!!! Jacob Marley is so horribly unnerving (because he doesn't BLINK pretty much the entire scene he's on screen for!). Past is strange and mystical in a way that makes you wonder if ever she was human at all, Present is robust and jovial while simultaneously giving Scrooge some of the more powerful reality checks (and does NOT bite his tongue -- he is HARSH), and Future... good god. The way the ghostly wailing and moaning sounds like metal creaking and scraping against itself, like a rusty cemetery gate? Incredible. Horrifying.

The whole movie is beautiful, an incredible adaptation, the costumes are second only to the Muppets, and you find yourself so easily lost in the story.

So, this holiday season, WATCH THE GEORGE C. SCOTT CHRISTMAS CAROL TV SPECIAL FROM 1984!!!

[marta-bee]

Thinking a bit more about my relationship to the military and military service.

I mentioned recently how offended I was by the whole thing with Trump at Arlington Cemetery, and also that several of my cousins had served in the US armed services (mostly the Marines). I've also said I'm a pacifist. That last one needs a little more qualification.

I'm what I'd describe as a practical pacifist: I acknowledge there are some emergencies that need a violent solution, but I also think being mentally prepared to inflict violence on someone is the bigger danger to my well-being. I'd rather run the small risk of being attacked and not being ready to defend myself than walk around being ready to attack someone else. Other peoples' calculus differs, and reasonably so. I'm single and don't have children to protect. I have the privilege (and have made the sacrifices) to live in reasonably safe areas. And while I think the military and civilian police are far too quick to create situations that encourage conflict, in principle I don't see a conflict between saying "not everyone should be prepared to use violence to protect themselves" and "we're all better off when some people, in very rare situations, are prepared to do just that."

So I 100% recognize that the military can be a tool of empire and racism and ideology all too often. I think when you take a twenty-year-old, give them body armor and a big gun, and point them in the direction of someone you name the enemy, "self defense" will come much too easily. And at class level, it bothers the hell out of me that the people we send to fight our wars are so very different from the people who decide to get us involved in them. But all that being said, I know what motivated my cousins and high school classmates to enlist. I think the intent was honorable. Or at least rational. (So many enlisted as a way to afford college and buy into the middle class.) And I've acquired just enough wisdom to know people coming out of that kind of service may be dealing with a lot of emotional trauma, a lot of moral injury, and may not need my judgment on top of all that. In the political arena I'll absolutely advocate for my beliefs. But I've also learned there are real people involved, and sometimes the better part of being family and neighbors is to keep my thoughts to myself.

I also recognize countries have a legitimate right to defend themselves, though of course they still need to do that the right way. So I'm not against sending weapons (say) to Ukraine. I'm also not convinced US involvement in Afghanistan was wrong, at least I think from what I've seen the people of Afghanistan were genuinely better off when the Taliban was being held at bay. That's the great challenge of making war (and yes, I've got the last council-meeting in Lord of the Rings in mind here, before the armies set out for the Black Gate). You're almost never going to beat Mordor in a wrestling-match, but in rare circumstances you'll need a battle to make space for a lasting peace.

So. Tl;dr version. I don't agree with most of the military decisions my country's leaders make, and I wish we were a lot less involved in wars around the globe. But that doesn't mean I don't respect the hell out of the intent behind military service. And I'm not 100% closed to the possibility there's some rare circumstances where it's the right thing to do in fact. You can even fight wars in a way that keeps the amount of war being fought to a minimum. Like most things worth thinking about, the reality is much messier than my ideals.

I'm thinking about this because of a recent discussion between Colbert and Sen. Mark Kelly, about how Trump saw the world in terms of conmen vs. people being conned and truly didn't understand the concept of service. And I was so thankful when he talked about how the person who did understand that was Harris. The one thing more than anything else I truly hate about the way we Americans talk about the military, is how we equate public service with military service and not with (say) community organizing, public-service jobs like firemen and sanitation workers, teaching at-risk kids or staffing medical clinics where health care is in short supply. (Urban and rural areas both have so many needs in that area....) Kamala's not a veteran. Walz is, but Kamala's service is of the distinctly civilian variety. It doesn't make it less valid.

When I think of my cousins who enlisted, I think of how they wanted to do something difficult and be part of something bigger than themselves. It's a damned shame the military was the only real way they saw that they could do that. I think they were mistaken, but they were also just out of high school. Eighteen year olds can be truly idiotic specimens sometimes, and it's not like the community I grew up in gave them many better options.

I don't know. I can respect the intent and the sacrifice even if I think it was all a waste their service had to take this form. They deserve better, and we need to find more constructive ways to work together and solve our joint problems. Probably that's why Kelly's comment resonated with me: he seems to be recognizing how our service can take different forms.

But at the end of the day, even if I disagree in big ways with the morality of the military's choices, I can still respect what enlisted people were trying to do. That's life being messy for you.

[lindyloosims]

OC Questions Tag

I was tagged by @stargazer-sims, thank you.

I'm going to choose Dexter William Maloney and Evelyn Dawn Robertson, my OC's from my Love Drunk universe. I completed their story in TS3 and I started to do TS4 version but different and I got distracted (as I do) then I did Washed Ashore, which was an alternate universe story that I really need to finish. Anyway I did both of them because they are twin souls.

__________

NAME: Dexter William Maloney

NICKNAME: Dexy or Pretty Boy by his Lainie, Dex by everyone else.

GENDER: Male

STAR SIGN: Capricorn

HEIGHT: 5ft 11in

ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Irish/White

FAVOURITE FRUIT: Pineapple

FAVOURITE SEASON: Summer

FAVOURITE FLOWER: Tulips, because they're his mum's favourite.

FAVOURITE SCENT: Lainie's perfume, Kylie Minogue: Darling

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee, he has a machine that his best friend Drew made for him and he likes to experiment with flavour. His favourite is caramel syrup in his coffee.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: He suffers from headaches now and again after an accident so it can vary. When it's really bad, he's nigh on an insomniac but Lainie forces him to drink chamomile tea before bed as she knows all about sleep problems.

DOGS or CATS: Dogs, he had one as a boy called Rosco and he was a Rhodesian Ridgeback. He has two dogs with Lainie, Trixie the yellow Labrador and Kizzy the Husky.

DREAM TRIP: Hawaii with Lainie, a lazy beach holiday walking by the ocean and collecting seashells. No kids, just him and his Freckles!

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: He's rarely ever cold, so I'd say one?

RANDOM FACT: Out of all of the numerous tattoos he has, only one is sentimental and that is his daughter Keira's name on his wrist in Irish Gaelic. The rest were a rebellion when his father suddenly passed away of a heart attack when Dexter was 24 years old.

__________

NAME: Evelyn Dawn Robertson Maloney

NICKNAME: She prefers Lainie and hates her name, Dexter calls her Freckles and her mother calls her Evie. Her father calls her monkey but that's a whole other story!

GENDER: Female

STAR SIGN: Leo

HEIGHT: 5ft 3in

ORIENTATION: Heterosexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Irish/White

FAVOURITE FRUIT: Watermelon

FAVOURITE SEASON: Autumn for Halloween

FAVOURITE FLOWER: Roses

FAVOURITE SCENT: Dexter, he doesn't wear any scent it's just his natural aroma and it makes her feel giddy.

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea, all kinds but her favourite is plain old green tea, or cat's piss as Dex calls it.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: She has bouts of insomnia so knows all the tricks for trying to get sleepy, however they rarely work with her. She suffers from severe anxiety.

DOGS or CATS: Dogs, she's not a great fan of cats but she did have one when she was a teenager but her older sister left the back gate open and she never saw little Socks again. She had two Labradors growing up, her favourite dog breed. She and Dex have a Labrador named Trixie and a Husky named Kizzy, they pretended to adopt them for the kids, but really they were for them.

DREAM TRIP: Anywhere with Dexy, although she would love to go to New Orleans during Mardi Gras, visit the cemeteries and wander around the French Quarter. She's a fan of The Originals and that's where her love for New Orleans began.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: It depends, some nights it can be just the duvet, other nights it could be two extra blankets. She's inconsistent.

RANDOM FACT: She is a secret fan of The Prodigy, it's something only Dex and her best friend Roxy know about. They're not her usual taste of music but for some reason she gets so much housework done with their tunes in her ears.

—————

I tag @zosa95, @simmersofia, @babolat85, @silverspringsimmer, @akitasimblr and anyone else who would like to do it, feel free to ignore if you don't.

[spiritualityloves247]

Lubana is a cemetery spirit; the sacred snake of the charnel house. She is a spirit of birth, death, life, and sex who unblocks roads, removing obstacles from the paths of her devotees. She opens the gates of opportunity. Lubana is a cleansing spirit who removes negativity and spiritual and psychic toxins (snake venom as antidote). Can she remove a curse? Yes, she can.

Lubana began her incarnation as a Congolese Simbi spirit. Transported to the island of Hispaniola by the slave trade; she was a comparatively obscure local spirit until the late 20th century when the image of Mami Waters arrived in the Americas. The German circus poster of a snake charmer that catapulted Mami Waters to worldwide fame served as a portal for Lubana, too. Dominican immigrants brought Lubana to the United States; her fame continues to increase.

Congolese snake spirits were transported to the Caribbean; so was an old traditional style of Iberian spellcasting, incorporating verbal petitions to aggressive spirits requesting that they impose the spell-caster’s will on others. For instance, Spanish love/domination spells invoke Saint Martha the Dominator, requesting that she force an errant man to return to the spell-caster so subservient that he’s crawling on his belly like a snake. Lubana is now invoked in virtually identical love-spells whose goal is to force a man to crawl afterthe woman he once scorned, begging on his knees. (If the spell goes correctly; the man wants to do this. He feels compelled. He’s unresisting.)

Although Lubana is also commonly called Filomena, she is not identified with the young virgin martyr, Saint Philomena. Instead, she is syncretized to Saint Martha the Dominator. In Latin America, the snake-charmer image associated elsewhere with Mami Waters was identified as Saint Martha who is usually depicted with a dragon or great reptile.

Snake Oil, a mass produced condition oil (magical formula oil), is used to dress Lubana’s candles and summon her. Serpentine-inspired fine perfume oils like Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Snake Oil may also accomplish this purpose. If you want to visit her, Lubana lives in the cemetery.

The other names she goes by: Filomena Lubana; Maitresse Luban; Metresa Lubana; Loubana; Luban

Classified as a Metrasa- the Caribbean island of Hispaniola is divided into two nations: Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Although Vodou has historically been associated with Haiti, related traditions exist in the Dominican Republic, too. The Dominican tradition is usually spelled Vodo or referred to as the twenty-One Divisions. Metresa is the term used to describe Vodo female spirits. It is a Spanish adaptation of the French word Maîtresse or, in English, Mistress.

MANIFESTATION:

Lubana’s true form is a snake but she may also manifest as a woman who displays serpentine behaviour (hissing, slithering, sticking out her tongue …). She may have snakelike physical features. Regardless of form, Lubana doesn’t speak: she hisses or communicates telepathically. (Telepathically she may use words and be quite articulate.)

ICONOGRAPHY:

The image most frequently used to depict Lubana is that of the snake charmer more commonly associated with Mami Waters. Votive statues based on that image are now mass produced and may be labeled Martha the Dominator (Santa Marta Dominadora). Different versions of the statue exist; some hew closely to the old poster even duplicating the hairstyle; others depict her with significantly fairer complexion. Martha/Lubana wears a green dress and holds a snake. A small boy sitting on her lap holds a smaller snake. The second figure in the old poster has been reinterpreted as a child saved from a snake by the snake charmer.

SPIRIT ALLIES:

She works closely with Anaisa Pyé, Sili Kenwa, Baron Del Cementario, and other Barons.

DAY:

Monday

SACRED DATE:

29 July (feast day of Saint Martha)

COLOURS:

Green, black, purple

ANIMAL:

Snake

NUMBER:

5

ALTAR:

Her offerings are traditionally placed on the floor, although theoretically, a snake climbs anywhere.

OFFERINGS:

Cigars; unsweetened black coffee; Malta beverage (not malt liquor; Malta is a type of carbonated drink whose primary ingredient is barley, which is allowed to ferment or ”malt”). Malta is available worldwide, sold under different brand names; it may also be sold as champagne cola, although it’s neither champagne nor cola; however, beware: although Malta may be called champagne cola, not every champagne cola is Malta.

TRADITIONAL OFFERING FOR LUBANA

Place one whole, unbroken, raw egg on a bed of coffee grounds

Drizzle with honey and Malta and serve

[mace-waz-here]

Revamped an old pjo oc, I like her a lot better now

I based the first version of her of how fucking weird and “lonely” I was (I wasn’t)

New:

-Gisa Clemence

-child of Thanatos

-actually happy for once

-mothers job is a hospice worker

-Only has a a few abilities!! (Being able to sense death, can go in and out of the underworld, stronger in cemeteries, forgot to put this in but can understand and talk to butterflies, and can become invisible to mortals to guide spirits to the gates of the underworld and let her father take it from there)

-has a personality that isn’t just being edgy

Old..:

-Rhoxane Raven Red💀💀

-child of Thanatos

-emo

-mothers job is being a piece of shit

-op as fuck (I’m not gonna list all of those just read it if you can)

-personality is “cold” and “rude” 💀