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nellasbookplanet · 5 months
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Book recs: Space!! part 1
We all love space, right? I certainly love space, and I'm always on the hunt for a good space book. What you've got here is a pretty wild mix of everything from fun and adventurous space opera to horrific and brutal space horror - hopefully all the space fans can find something to enjoy!
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For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!
If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!
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The Long Way To a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers
Rosemary Harper just got a job on the motley crew of the Wayfarer, a spaceship that works with tunneling new wormholes through space. With a past she wants to leave behind, Rosemary is happy to travel the far reaches of the universe with the chaotic crew, but when they land the job of a life time, things suddenly get a lot more dangerous. A bit of a tumblr classic in its day, this is a cozy space opera with an episodic feel and vividly realized characters and cultures. While pretty light on romance and focusing found family, there is a main f/f relationship.
Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi
Ascension follows Alana Quick, an expert Sky Surgeon who stows away on a spaceship in hopes of landing herself a job. But the ship and its crew are in deeper waters than she expected, facing threats emerging from a whole other universe, all of them searching for the same person: Alana’s spiritually enlightened sister. Undeniably a bit of an odd read, Ascension is also very creative and features polyamorous lesbian relationship.
Illuminae (The Illulminae Files) by Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff*
Young adult told through the medium of transcripts, text messages and the like (this is one of few books where I highly recommend reading a physical copy over a digital or audio copy as the visual aspect is much more enjoyable like that). After their colony is attacked, the surviving inhabitants flee on spaceships, attempting to avoid the pursuing killers while also dealing with a deadly maddening plague on board and a ruthless ship AI seemingly losing its mind.
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Kea's Flight by Erika Hammerschmidt & John C. Ricker
Young adult. Kea has been in exile since before she was born. In a future where abortion has been forbidden, Earth has found a new way of handling unwanted children: send them off to space to colonize new planets. Kea has lived her entire life on a spaceship, surrounded by other kids rejected for 'flaws' in their genetic makeup, Kea herself being on the autism spectrum. The ship follows a strict authority, but when a new threat appears, Kea and her friends must rise up to ensure they make it to their new home.
The Loneliest Girl in the Universe by Lauren James*
Young adult. Romy is the only survivor on a spaceship headed toward a new planet, her only contact with other people being messages sent to and from Earth which take months to arrive. Then she receives news: another ship has been sent, one which is more advanced than hers and will eventually catch up. Ecstatic about the prospect of meeting other people, Romy begins communicating with J, the sole passenger of the other ship, and finds herself developing feelings for him. But Romy knows nothing about J, and have begun receiving worrisome messages from Earth...
Ancillary Justice (Imperial Radch universe) by Ann Leckie*
A space opera in which sentient spaceships can walk the ground in stolen human bodies, so called ancillaries. One of these ancillaries, the sole survivor after the complete destruction of her ship and crew, is on the hunt for revenge against the leader of the Empire for her crimes. This series does very cool things with gender and culture!
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The Stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley
Zan wakes without memory, a passenger aboard one of the living world-ships of Legion, a fleet of decaying generations ships. Told she's the salvation meant to free them from the fleet, Zan is flung head first into a brutal and bloody conflict. This book fucked me up when I read it. It’s weird, it’s gross, there’s So Much Viscera, there are literally no men, it has living spaceships and biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one.
Ninefox Gambit (The Machineries of Empire) by Yoon Ha Lee*
Disgraced Captain Kel Cheris is given a second chance by allying with and becoming the host for undead Commander Shous Jedao, who in life never lost a battle, but also went mad and massacred his own army. Now, Cheris must decide just how far she can trust him, with her forces as well as with her sense of self. Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with major gay, lesbian and trans characters, albeit little to no romance.
An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon
Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed workforce as they travel through space toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.
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172 Hours on the Moon by Johan Harstad*
Young adult horror. NASA is finally returning to the moon, and to gain the needed funding and attention they hold a world-wide lottery: three teenagers will get to travel to a recently revealed moon base alongside the trained astronauts. For Antoine, Midori, and Mia, this is the chance of a lifetime. But there's a reason NASA stayed away from the moon for so long, and while three teens may be going there, only one will return... This book scared the shit out of me as a teen, recommended for slowburn mix of supernatural and sci-fi horror.
Children of Time (Children of Time series) by Adrian Tchaikovsky*
Millennia and generation spanning sci-fi. After the collapse of the earthen empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millennia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home, only to be met by the ancient, artificial remains of the woman who once led the uplift project - and she is not willing to let them disturb her spiders, or her planet, no matter how desperate they are.
All Systems Red (The Murderbot Diaries) by Martha Wells*
After having hacked its own governor module, SecUnit uses its small amount of new freedom to secretly download and watch as much media as it can between doing its job guarding humans. But when the scientists it’s been charged with keeping safe come under attack, it must make a choice about whether to continue keeping its freedom secret or risk it all to save them. The series features both novellas and full length novels, and balances humor with scathing critique of capitalism.
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Dust (Jacob's Ladder series) by Elizabeth Bear
In a dying spaceship, orbiting an equally dying sun, noblewoman Perceval waits for her own gruesome death. Having been captured by an opposing house, her wings severed and life forfeit, Perceval's execution is imminent - until a young servant charged with her care proves to be Perceval's long lost sister. To stop a war between houses likely to doom them all, the two flee together across a crumbling, dangerous spaceship. And at its core waits Jacob Dust, god and angel, all that remains of what the ship once was. And he wants Perceval.
Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor
Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.
A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe (The Salvagers) by Alex White
In a universe where science and magic work hand in hand, Boots Elsworth makes a living selling fake treasure maps and Nilah Brio is a racer. When one of Boots' maps turns out to be more real than expected and Nilah has to go on the run after having been framed for a murder, the two find themselves on the same spaceship, working with Boots' old captain to find the rumored treasure and reveal the conspiracy it's hiding before the people hunting them catch up. Features a main f/f relationship.
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The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez
A strange child lands on an isolated planet, scaring its inahbitants into handing him over into the hands of Nia Amani. As captain of a transport ship, Nia is not only the planet's only contact with the outside world, she is also a woman outside of time, years compressing into months as she travels through space at high speed. Now responsible for a child who doesn't speak and in a galaxy that wishes them ill, she must rethink exactly what she wants to do with her life, and what she's prepared to give up. Features multiple major queer characters.
Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden
Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!
Dead Silence Here by S.A. Barnes
Horror. As her current mission as team leader for a small repair crew in distant space nears its end, Claire grows desperate to find a way to not have to return to a life on Earth. When the crew picks up a distress signal from Aurora, a luxury cruise ship thought lost decades ago, she sees a chance to make enough money on salvage to buy her own ship. But Aurora is housing horrifying secrets beyond its cold hull, and Claire's own past is coming back to literally haunt her. If she wants to survive, dangerous truths must be revealed.
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Activation Degradation by Marina J. Lostetter
Unit Four comes to life in the middle of a war. The mine it was created to care for is under attack, and as Unit Four is activated with the memories of its predecessors, it is thrown into the task of protecting it at any cost. When the battle leads to its capture, it is prepared to do anything to stop its captors, even as their very presence causes it to question all that it knows. Includes multiple major intersex characters.
This Alien Shore by C.S. Friedman
Space opera in which humanity found a way to faster than light travel and began establishing colonies all over the galaxy, only to belatedly realize the method of FTL caused irreversible mutations and disabilities and leaving their nascent colonies to die. Much later, many of the colonies have survived and thrived, and one has found a new method of FTL travel, allowing an interconnected space society to grow. However, Earth is on the hunt for their method and is prepared to do anything to steal it. Trapped in the middle of all this and forced on the run is young Jamisia, who is little by little coming to realize that not only might she be the very solution Earth is after, she’s also not alone in her own mind and body.
Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*
Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a spaceship, the rest of the crew dead, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of the earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.
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House of Suns by Alastair Reynolds
Six million years in the future, humanity has spread across the entire Milky Way galaxy. Purslane and Campion are both clones of the same woman, sent into the galaxy millions of years ago to explore along with almost a thousand clones like them. Every 200 000 years they all meet to compare memories and experiences. But this time Purslane and Campion arrive late - and discover that a secret millions of years in the making has led to an extinction level attack against their kind. Now they must find out the truth before their line is completely wiped out. Absolutely wild world-building, featuring various kinds of posthumans (among which the clones are, shockingly, the most similar to people of our time).
Empress of Forever by Max Gladstone
Vivian Liao is a highly successful innovator, but she may have bitten off more than she can chew and fears the government is coming for her. As she goes into hiding, she attempts to pull off one last stunt that could fix everything - but something goes wrong, and suddenly Vivian finds herself waking up in the far future, under attack by an army of robots in space. Hoping to find her way back home, Vivian must assemble a crew of dangerous outlaws and outcasts to help her hunt down the Empress of Forever, the all-powerful entity who pulled her into the future. Lesbian main character.
Finder (Finder Chronicles) by Suzanne Palmer
Fergus Ferguson is a finder, and his latest job has just taken him to a small colony in the farthest corner of inhabited space. There he's searching for a stolen spaceship, what he thinks will be an easy job. But things become complicated as Fergus' arrival inadvertently sets off a civil war, forcing him to ally with the thief's enemies to get out alive with his prize. And beyond it all, the ships of a dangerous and mysterious alien species watches over it all, picking people off when least expected.
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Space Opera (Space Opera duology) by Catherynne M. Valente
Eurovision in space! If you lose, humanity is doomed! Good luck! The sentient species of the galaxy have chosen to face each other not in war but in a musical contest, and now humanity is invited to partake. The problem? If we lose, our species as a whole will be exterminated. While I found this book as a whole slightly gimmicky, it’s a fun and flashy experience with some wild and creative alien species.
Blindsight (Firefall duology) by Peter Watts*
Vampires and aliens and questions of the nature of consciousnesses, oh my! A ship is sent to investigate the sudden appearance of an alien vessel at the edge of the solar system, but the crew isn’t prepared for the horrors awaiting them. No, seriously, this book will fuck you up, highly recommend if you’re okay with a lot of techno babble and existential horror.
The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman*
AKA the book the put me in an existential crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired sci-fi where reality is warped and artificial gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.
Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: Dare Mighty Things by Heather Kaczynski, Chilling Effect by Valerie Valdes, Medusa Uploaded by Emily Devenport, We Are Legion (We Are Bob) by Dennis E. Taylor, The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang
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blowflyfag · 6 months
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Pro Wrestling Illustrated: March 2024
THE LOCKUP
BY BRIAN R. SOLOMON
WHEN YOU’VE BEEN following this great sport as long as I have, you start to get a real sense for when something just works … when someone has something special, and is destined to make it big. Sometimes, it might take a very long time. And it might even seem like it’s never going to happen. But for some, it just takes longer, and, if they have the right combination of determination, skill, and luck, it happens.
LA Knight is one of those people. I’ve known it for years, but it’s nice to see the rest of the business finally catch up.
The year 2023 was a watershed moment in the 20-year career of WWE’s newest phenomenon. This marked the time when Knight finally broke through and did something that is so refreshing to see, but is so rarely allowed to happen in today’s industry: He got over organically. The fans made him into a superstar; not the office. He’s not a corporate product.
Quite the opposite! LA Knight is someone the office didn’t necessarily see all that much in, but the people felt otherwise. He won them over, and now it’s paying dividends, as WWE has a new main-event fan favorite on its hands. 
Yes, I’ve heard all the knocks. As this magazine goes to press, LA Knight just turned 41 years old. Guess what? That’s the same age as Asuka, Finn Balor, and Damien Priest. Cody Rhodes, who’s arguably made himself into WWE’s hottest fan favorite main-eventer in the past couple of years, is just three years younger than LA Knight. So are Sami Zayn, Charlotte Flair, and none other than Roman Reigns himself. Sure, Knight has a finite number of years ahead of him as a major, viable wrestling superstar. But you can rest assured he’s primed to make the most of those years. The idea that he’s somehow “too old” for the position he’s in is ludicrous.
[While some critics deride LA Knight for his similarities to Steve Austin and Dwayne Johnson, Brian R. Solomon suggests the rising superstar doesn’t get enough credit for making those influences his own.
PHOTO BY JERRY VILAGRANA]
It’s funny how one of Knight’s greatest strengths–his ability to tap into the best aspects of what made the stars of the Attitude Era get over–has also been called out by some as a negative. From when I first came to be acquainted with his work years ago, I enjoyed how he seemed to be a hybrid of the best elements of “Stone Cold” Steve Austin and The Rock. If that makes him derivative, then he’s no more derivative than Ric Flair emulating Buddy Rogers, Hulk Hogan emulating “Superstar” Billy Graham, or Dusty Rhodes taking from Thunderbolt Patterson.
In other words, nothing exists in a bubble. The greats of today build themselves on the templates created by the stars of the past. That’s nothing new. And in 2023, a wrestler with the swagger and charisma of the Attitude Era actually stands out from the pack.
Most importantly of all, LA Knight believes himself to be a star, and that belief has spread to the people. He’s willed it for himself, because he knows he’s earned it. That’s what happens when you’ve been scratching and scraping for 20 years to achieve something that means the world to you.
[Eli Drake poses for a photo backstage at a taping of David Marquez’ UWN Primetime Live in September 2020. By that time, WWE brass certainly already had their eyes on the man who would go on to main event against Roman Reigns.
PHOTO BY JUSTIN COTTERELL/UNITED WRESTLING NETWORK]
Since the days of WWE’s Ruthless Aggression–back when TNA and Ring of Honor were in their respective infancies–the man known to his parents as Shaun Ricker has been making his way in the business, and he’s been learning every step of the way. He got his start in the 200s at Ohio’s Heartland Wrestling Association under the watchful eye of legendary trainer Les Thatcher. At the time, HWA served as a developmental system for WWE. Ricker actually made his WWE debut on an episode of Heat in 2006, teaming with another young unknown, Jon Moxley, in a handicap match against The Big Show.
In what would be the start of a pattern, he wasn’t quite able to break through. And when WWE ended its relationship with HWA in 2009, Ricker moved on, hitting the West Coast and becoming a standout of the California independent scene. 
Part of that campaign meant becoming a regular at David Marquez’ Championship Wrestling from Hollywood, then a flagship member of the NWA. This TV exposure started to show what he could do, and earned him a tryout with NXT in 2013. But his first run there would turn out pretty uneventful, consisting of half a year of house shows and dark matches. It just wasn’t his time yet. 
In 2015, the future LA Knight got his first big break in TNA/IMPACT, where he also took on the name many fans first knew him under: Eli Drake. He spent the next four years there, honing his skills against some of the best in the business, and even holding the IMPACT World championship for five months. For most performers with his age and experience, that might have been the peak. For him,it was just the precursor.
After leaving IMPACT in 2019, Drake reached a whole new audience as one of the cornerstone stars of Billy Corgan’s new incarnation of the NWA, where he held the NWA World tag team title with James Storm. But the pandemic put a crimp in things and halted much of the NWA’s production in 2020. By the time it started back up again, Eli Drake had been snatched up by WWE, sent to NEXT, and given a whole new name.
Even then, success was far from a sure thing, as fans know all too well. Saddled with the unfortunate Max Dupri persona–and even shoehorned into the role of manager by Vince McMahon, who just didn’t see him as a top player–the man rose above it all, proving that even Vince can be wrong sometimes.
Thankfully, Paul Levesque believed in LA Knight and, gradually, Knight took the reins. A feud with Bray Wyatt, in which Knight was positioned as nothing more than a stepping stone, instead proved the catalyst for his dramatic transformation into a superstar on the rise.
Tired of getting so close but falling short of where he knew he belonged, LA Knight took control of his own destiny. After all these years, the taste of success is that much sweeter. Now, everyone is saying his name, and likely will be for some time to come. 
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mortemoppetere · 1 year
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TIMING: current PARTIES: @kadavernagh & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: regan meets the local pi who keeps finding dead bodies. emilio meets the me who won't talk his ear off about grandchildren. CONTENT WARNINGS: infidelity (npc)
Most doctors had their frequent fliers – usually, people who showed up to the hospital at any hour for the most trivial of things. Regan thought she’d be free of that as a forensic pathologist. But she didn’t account for frequent callers. As it turned out, there was someone in town who rivaled her own propensity for finding and reporting bodies. She hadn’t met him yet, not in person, but Emilio Cortez’s reputation preceded him. Even Marcy told Regan “It’s that fucking guy” when he called in again. And Rickers wasn’t in today. So Emilio would have to deal with her. And she had questions.
Firstly, why was Emilio out in such an isolated place? It was rare that Regan had to drive all the way out to Gatlin Fields; she was quickly learning that the people out there weren’t apt to call in any bodies they found, preferring to keep the morgue out of it. So this was the first corn field she’d had the pleasure of standing in since moving to Wicked’s Rest. As she pushed through the towering plants, she kept an eye out for the crooked tree at the edge of the field that apparently marked the spot. Not that she really needed the landmark. She could feel the pulse of the cadaver pulling her in. And sure enough, there was both a man and a post-man in its shade. Regan adjusted her death scene bag over her shoulder. It was going to put in work today, as was she. 
“You must be Emilio Cortez,” Regan said, nodding in his direction, though staring only at the decedent’s flaccid, glossy expression. Male, roughly age 30. Young, which was odd, but not that odd here. No overt signs of trauma, though he was wearing dark clothing, which could hide plenty. “Dr. Kavanagh, Medical Examiner. I believe we’ve spoken online before. You’re the private investigator, correct?” A couple case assists, a couple email exchanges, and she already knew she found his manner irritating. But there was far more she didn’t know about him. “What do you have to tell me?”
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Working as a private eye in a town like Wicked’s Rest tended to award a man with certain habits. Working as a slayer on top of that tended to intensify those habits. Some of the habits were decent ones. Others involved frequently stumbling upon corpses in the woods. It was the latter that had him standing in Gatlin Fields, smoking a cigarette as he waited for the ME to arrive.
He’d considered just leaving, of course. The medical examiner wouldn’t need anything from him, considering he hadn’t put the corpse here and didn’t have any real evidence to offer. But he was learning that some connections were good for a PI to have. Rickers had thrown him a bone or two when a cadaver that came into the morgue matched the description of someone Emilio was looking for for a job, so he figured he’d throw a few back every now and then. Maintain the professional relationship in the interest of making his life a little easier. He was capable of that, from time to time.
Except… it wasn’t Rickers walking towards him now. It was a woman. Probably the one he’d shared a few scattered exchanges with when the older man was out. Carter? Keller? Kavanagh. He nodded at the introduction. “Just Emilio,” he replied, putting out his cigarette. “Thought you’d be Rickers.” He nodded down at the corpse. “Haven’t touched it. I was looking for a client’s wife. Apparently, she’s been meeting with a guy out here.” He squinted down at the corpse. “That might be the guy. Hard to tell.” The body was in rough shape, though Emilio didn’t know if it was because of how he had died or because of something that had found him after. That would be Dr. Kavanagh’s job. He wasn’t going to do it for her.
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“Most people think I’d be Dr. Rickers.” And it was true. Even if they weren’t expecting him, precisely, they were usually taken aback to be in the presence of a Medical Examiner deficient in a few decades and an entire beard. Regan was used to some surprise. It was what came after that was more important: would they be deferential to her expertise, or would they look over her shoulder hoping to summon a Rickers? Emilio was already an odd duck. He just didn’t seem to care at all; the comment seemed more remark than question or desire. “But I’m not. Clearly.” Regan finally said with a sigh, snapping her nitrile gloves over her hands, and setting her kit down gently, away from the body. “I’m going to need to get my office out here. But I can take some photos and a cursory look in the meantime. And I want you to stay here so we can discuss this.” And she didn’t just mean the case. She was all too familiar with being drawn to these grisly situations, and she wanted to understand how he kept ending up in them, too.
As Emilio took a drag from his cigarette, Regan’s face scrunched up in irritation. That was technically a potential contaminate of the scene, however unlikely that the smoke and ashes would alter anything. He put it out before she could demand it of him. “Don’t throw that on the ground.” They were surely off to a good start. Regan dug the two cameras out of her bag, handing one to Emilio for good measure. Why not? He was a PI. He could operate a camera. “I assume you know how to use that. What’s your client like? Do you think he would be the type to go after the ‘other party’ as an act of revenge?” She pressed her lips together in thought. “You know humans. People. The more you can tell me, the less that particular avenue will need to be investigated. I do not care about motive, only that a death occurred.”
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“Clearly,” Emilio agreed, a hint of amusement in his expression. She was all business, and he liked that. Rickers was fine, but he tended to be a little chatty for Emilio’s case. Hearing about the man’s grandchildren ranged from annoying to painful depending on his mood. Dr. Kavanagh didn’t seem to be in any danger of doing that, though he did make a face when she requested he stick around. “Don’t think I’ll be much help for you,” he warned her. Death might be something familiar to him, but not in this context. Most of his cases ended when he found a body. He told the client that the person they’d been looking for was found, and people like Dr. Kavanagh handled the rest. It was preferable, that way. 
He rolled his eyes, but made a show of shoving the cigarette butt into the pocket of his jeans rather than tossing it on the ground. It was hardly the dirtiest thing that had ever gone into these pockets, after all. Taking the camera as she handed it to him, Emilio inspected it carefully. Newer than the one he used, and probably more expensive, but he could swing it. “Point and shoot,” he said dryly. “Doesn’t take a genius. Not sure what you want me to do with it, though.” Was he expected to assist her with the crime scene here? He wasn’t being paid for that. He fiddled with the strap of the camera, glancing up at the medical examiner. “I’m not going to go around accusing the guy of murder when he still owes me money,” he replied flatly. “But for what it’s worth, doubt he’d be able to take this guy. He’s scrawny. Doesn’t look like he’s ever even been in a fight.” That didn’t mean he wasn’t responsible, of course. He could have hired someone, or tricked the other man somehow. Hell, he could be something supernatural that gave him a leg up. Not anything undead, of course — Emilio would know if he were that — but a shapeshifter, maybe, or fae. But at the end of the day? “He wasn’t after vengeance, from what I could tell. Just wanted pictures to present to his lawyer so he could get more in the divorce. If anything, this guy being alive was good for him.”
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“You might surprise us both.” Regan countered, “You never know what information is pertinent in situations like this. Besides, you’re an extra set of hands until my office and the police arrive. You know what to do with a camera.” She took some establishing shots of her own, slowly circling the area. There was mostly only corn. Lots of corn. For a potential crime scene, it was pretty boring, pretty clean. Hopefully the decedent’s examination would offer a little more excitement. She was rarely disappointed in the autopsies this town offered. She snapped another photo. “I’m not asking you to accuse anyone of murder. This might not even be a murder. We don’t even use that term – I determine homicides, not murders.” How had Dr. Rickers not taught him a thing or two yet?
At least Mr. Cortez was cooperating, though Regan had a feeling he’d squirm away if at the very word cooperate. “Interesting.” Not really. Regan rarely had any interest in what happened preceding the death – only the direct circumstances in which the death occurred. She’d leave the crime-solving to the police. At least, that’s how she used to operate. Now, her perimortem visions sometimes flared her sense of justice. She wasn’t about to go fishing for one right now. 
“Get the scene from the left, please.” She pointed to the left of the decedent, toward yet more corn. Time to see if she could figure him out a bit more. “You know, my secretary recognized who you were. Dr. Rickers knows you on a first-name basis, too. Do you want to tell me why that is?” Regan hesitated, wondering if she should let on that she knew a little more than that. Ultimately, she decided it would cut their conversation a little shorter if she did. Which was only a good thing. “They said you call frequently. And that you’re a private investigator, which explains why you seem to have a working relationship with us. I think that warrants further discussion. But I’ve worked with other investigators in town, and they don’t normally find the bodies.” Regan looked up from the camera, raising a brow at Emilio. “Sheer dumb luck, or a byproduct of the kind of cases you take?”
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She used a lot of big words. It was a struggle to keep up, though Emilio gave no indication of it. He focused on the context clues, puzzled out what she was saying a few seconds slower than he might have had his English been just a little better, and nodded his head slowly. “I guess,” he agreed. If she was saying what he figured she was — that sometimes, information you didn’t expect to be important could help you solve a case — then he agreed with her. He’d had plenty of cases that were solved with details he’d already written off. He held the camera up experimentally, taking a few shots here and there. Whether or not any of them would be of subject matter that Dr. Kavanagh would find helpful was yet to be determined… but also not something Emilio considered to be his problem. “Then what are you asking me?” Emilio glanced to the crime scene, trying to keep the confusion from his expression as she clarified. “They mean the same thing.” Didn’t they? 
He wasn’t sure how much a medical examiner cared about the details of the case. Rickers never seemed to give much of a shit, but Rickers also never handed him a camera and told him to make himself useful, so the two already differed quite a bit. In any case, Emilio had no intention of sticking around until the cops showed up. Dr. Kavanagh might be associated with the police, but she didn’t make his skin crawl the way the actual officers tended to. If he stuck around too long, they’d probably try to find some way to pin it on him. Kavanagh clearly cared about the truth of the crime, but not everyone felt the same. In a town like Wicked’s Rest, where there were more case files than there were police officers, plenty of them just wanted those cases closed one way or another.
Having some kind of direction came as a relief, though you wouldn’t know it from the way Emilio rolled his eyes as he followed her instruction. “I’m an investigator,” he replied, snapping a few photos from different angles. “Sometimes, my investigations bring me to things like this. Lots of missing people in Wicked’s Rest. Their families come to me when the police give up. I tend to find them in pieces.” He knelt down for another angle, despite the pressure it put on his bad knee. If Kavanagh wanted him to take pictures, he’d take pictures. Like she’d said, he had a working relationship with the medical examiner’s office. He’d like to keep that working relationship, and that meant it was better if both doctors there liked him enough not to hang up the phone when he called. He considered her question as he snapped the photo. He knew that the frequency of his calls to her office were due, in at least some small part, to his status as a slayer. Even when he found bodies on a job for Axis, as he had today, it was his upbringing that drove him there. Most PIs didn’t look for things in the same way Emilio did. If you went to places expecting bodies, it was a lot easier to find those bodies. “Let’s go with dumb luck,” he decided. “And the other investigators in town being worse at their jobs than I am. I have a good record.” Even if his reviews said otherwise. “Guess I do take on weird cases sometimes, though. I like to figure things out.” And his ability to ‘figure things out’ that were supernatural in nature had earned him a reputation as someone who would solve the ‘weird’ cases people might have.
It was almost surprising that Mr. Cortez was listening to her instruction, but she wasn’t going to question it. And also wasn’t going to try not to press her luck. Regan knew others like him, or at least others who came off in a similar manner. Brusque, loose, and stubborn over the most inane of things; straight from the private investigator mold of the 70s. It was better to have people like him relatively content in whatever arrangement worked best for them both. And being new to town, especially, Regan needed all of the social currency he and other tangentially related peers to offer her. She figured, ironically, that the more people familiar with her, the more effectively she could have them leave her alone. Unless something really mattered. Like this.
“Homicide and murder are not the same thing.” Regan walked a straight line, taking a new photo every couple of feet, but still managing to focus on what she deemed to be an important distinction. “Homicide is a pathological designation; murder is a legal one. There are homicides that aren’t murder. Many, in fact. I write up my findings and leave it up to the police and courts to determine the charge and punishment.” As difficult as it was, at times. But Regan was a rule follower, and regardless of her sense of justice, she knew what her place was.
His explanation wasn’t much of one at all. “I don’t actually believe in luck, you know.” But she did believe in dumb. 
Satisfied with the photos they’d taken – well, at least trusting Emilio’s were passable for documentation purposes – she decided it was time to move on. “I’m going to do a quick examination of the body. Not the autopsy; that will wait, obviously.” She pulled a notebook from her bag, handing it to Emilio, as well as a thermometer which she held onto. Unfortunately, the decedent was supine, and she didn’t want to disturb him to the extent necessary to take rectal temperature. Sublingual would have to do. She popped the thermometer in, but as her gloved hand grazed his temple, she froze. 
That wasn’t right. “He’s warm,” she announced to Emilio, looking up from her kneel. “Hot, even.” And very dead. There was no doubt about that. The thermometer beeped and she pulled it out. 108 degrees. Hotter than ambient temperature, substantially. And hotter than any body out here had a right to be. That was going to make determining time of death more difficult if she couldn’t rely on algor mortis. “I’m calling 108.4 degrees. Do you have that? I’ll… try a second time.”
Context clues were great, but they really only worked when you understood at least a few other words in the sentence. And Kavanagh was quickly detouring into territory where that simply wasn't the case for Emilio. He stared at her for a moment, perplexed expression on his face as he tried to puzzle out what that meant. Pathological designation? After a moment, he gave up. “No entiendo,” he mumbled, shaking his head just a little. It was clear that he didn’t enjoy confessing it, but they could hardly carry on a conversation if he was trying to guess every word she was saying. He couldn’t even make sense of the part of her sentence that he did technically understand — how could a homicide not be a murder? What was the difference between the two? 
At least this part of the conversation made more sense to him. He snorted lightly, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m not killing them, if that’s what you’re asking.” If he killed someone, he wouldn’t call it in to the medical examiner. That would just be stupid. 
She seemed finished with photos now, and Emilio held out the camera for her to take, replacing it in his hand with the notebook she offered him instead. He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do with this. Take notes for her? That wasn’t really his speed, and he doubted she’d approve of his handwriting. It was barely legible, even when he was the one reading it. Unsure what else to do, he bent the pages absently as she stepped forward. When she froze, so did he.
“He’s dead,” he replied flatly. “Shouldn’t he be cold?” 108 degrees? He was more accustomed to Celsius than Farenheit, but even he knew that 108 degrees was hotter than a corpse ought to be. Which, in Wicked’s Rest? Meant there was probably something supernatural going on. Emilio groaned. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Yes, he should be cold. Well, not cold cold, but about ambient temperature. Unless he died within hours, in which case the decedent could still be close to baseline temperature. But this – it’s above what it should be, even for the living.” And yet, as Regan plunged the thermometer back into the guy’s mouth, it came beeping back with the exact same result. “Identical.” She announced. Was this hyperthermia of some kind? It was rare that she saw any hyperthermia death, and there were few findings that were definitive for it in autopsy. The scene investigation was the more valuable piece for that determination. And yet, there was really nothing here. Not that she could see.
“You may not have to worry about the distinction between a homicide and murder. I’m not convinced this is either.” Regan turned to Emilio, forehead creased in confusion. Accidental deaths weren’t unusual, but most of the time the decedent wasn’t embroiled in the middle of a potential extramarital affair or already being investigated by a PI. But like she’d suspected before, there really were no external signs of trauma. “You said your client’s wife had been meeting him out here. Do you think she knows he’s dead, even if she wasn’t involved in the death itself? Left him alone to rot? I suppose you wouldn’t know that…” Regan frowned, looking at the dead man’s eyes. They were glossy, but didn’t yet have a nice tache noir film over them. She attempted to flex his arm, and found it stiff. Even without relying on temperature, that was enough information for her to feel secure that he hadn’t been out here for less than a couple hours and for no longer than ten. “This happened recently. As in today, perhaps just a few hours ago.” 
Slowly, she stood, nodding toward the notepad which surely didn’t have much on it, and even less that would be legible. “Autopsy findings for hyperthermia are non-specific. We need to take in as much as we can about the scene before the police get here and start–” No, she needed to be kinder. They usually did their best, and she needed them. But all too often, she’d seen them get in the way of her own investigators from the ME’s office, the two groups butting heads over jurisdiction. “Just start digging around for a bag, or dropped items, or anything else that could be helpful.” And maybe, if she handled it just the right way, she could even get it to reveal its secrets.
The more she spoke, the less he understood. Emilio flipped the pen she’d handed him between his fingers absently, not writing anything down largely because he wasn’t sure what to write. He didn’t even know how to attempt to spell any of the words she was saying. Did decadent mean body? Why couldn’t she just say that? He was starting to miss Rickers and his endless grandchildren. At least that guy would have probably just sent Emilio on his way by now.
He understood what she was saying to some extent, at least. The body under the tree might not be there because of any kind of foul play. Which, all things considered, was probably a good thing. Murders were messy, even when you were just the guy who found the body. Emilio had neither the time nor the patience for them. “Don’t think she’s been out here today,” he replied with a shrug. “She wears a pretty strong perfume. Don’t smell it on him.” It was half true. The wife’s perfume wasn’t any stronger than anyone else’s, but Emilio’s enhanced senses made it pretty easy to pick up. And there was no sign of it on the dead guy now, which meant the wife probably hadn’t shown up to this particular rendezvous. Which, of course, begged a new question: Why was he out here? “He could have been meeting someone else,” Emilio said, gears turning in his mind. “If he’s got one woman he meets out in a cornfield away from town, odds are he’s got more. Not much about this meetup spot makes it seem like they’d be exclusive.” Had he been following the man instead of the woman, he might know for sure just how accurate the theory was. But the dead man only mattered when he was with the client’s wife. Outside of that, he had no use to Emilio.
So the body was recent. That was good to know, even if nothing here really had anything to do with Emilio’s case anymore. Curiosity had taken hold of him around the time Kavanagh started looking perplexed, and while he had a hunch that this was something supernatural, there was a dull sort of thrill in the ability to figure out what. He nodded at the instruction, approaching the body and pausing for a moment. “I’m not going to fuck you up if I touch him, am I?” Mostly, he wanted to ensure that putting his hands on the corpse wouldn’t make him a suspect if this became a homicide case after all, but he figured it’d play more in his favor if he asked it in…a slightly less selfish-sounding way.
It was kind of… pleasant watching Emilio show more interest than he had so far, though Regan wished it didn’t come along with a request to physically manipulate her decedent. “You’re not going to fuck something up because I will not allow for it. So you may touch him, but move him as little as possible, and do not do anything invasive. And know that I’m watching. Closely.” But what she wasn’t going to do was prohibit it. “In fact… touch his face, first, and tell me what you think.” Regan was almost positive the heat she’d felt on the dead man’s skin was accurate to the reading of the thermometer, but it was hard to tell at times – so many things now felt too warm or hot against her chilled flesh. She wouldn’t risk a second exploratory touch in case it triggered a vision – which could be potentially helpful, but certainly something that would need a lot of explaining and poor attempts at lying behind it.
Regan did exactly as she said she would, and watched closely, making sure Emilio saw her eyes glued to him. “I don’t see a bag anywhere around here, do you? Do you think he came here without any belongings?” Primarily among her interests was water. If he somehow got stuck out here without water, on a 90 degree day in the beating sun, that could begin to explain some of the findings. She carefully patted the man’s front pants pockets, but there was no indication of anything being in them. Definitely not the cell phone she was looking for. “No cell phone, either, as far as I can tell. But I don’t want to flip him and check the back pockets yet.” She pressed her lips together tightly. She didn’t like that. Who didn’t carry a cell phone with them? Most of the time that meant it was removed from the primary scene by the guilty party or someone else. “I’m sure a phone exists.”
“Well, I’m not planning on dancing with him,” Emilio replied dryly, kneeling down by the corpse in spite of the continued protests his bad leg offered up. Nodding at the instruction, he placed his palm against the dead man’s face. “Yeah, hotter than it ought to be,” he agreed. Even when a corpse was so fresh that the light hadn’t yet left their eyes entirely, there wasn’t this level of heat to it. Emilio would know — he’d seen more of them than he’d like to admit. 
He pulled his hand away, patting down the man’s torso to check his jacket pockets. Feeling a lump, he reached inside. Wallet. Keys. Another key ring containing what seemed to be the key to a motel room, which Emilio held up with a snort. “You’d think he would’ve just gone here for his hookups,” he commented. “Better than an empty field.” He leaned back as Kavanagh came in to check the pants pockets, glad that he wasn’t the one patting up and down the man’s thighs. He had plenty of experience with corpses, but there was still something a little uncomfortable about feeling a dead stranger’s upper legs. No phone was an interesting development; who came out without one? How had he been planning on contacting his mistress, whoever they might have been? “Maybe he dropped it somewhere before he died. Tried to call for help and lost it. We could see if there’s a business card or something that might have his number on it in his wallet, call it and listen for it to ring.” Or see if someone picked it up. People were often stupid, and Emilio wouldn’t be entirely surprised at a murderer answering the phone of a man they’d just killed.
Regan wanted to protest as Emilio just stuck his hands inside of the man’s pockets without caution, but it was too late. And fortunately, there were no needles. “Tongs next time,” she said under her breath, “But at least we found his wallet and keys. Is there a name in there? Maybe even a photo ID?” If they didn’t have a cell phone, it would be helpful to at least have that. 
In the distance, she could see two police vehicles and the van from her office pull over at the side of the field. They’d take over from here. Which meant she and Emilio didn’t have long to view evidence before the others took control of it. She hated even thinking that. But some of the deaths in this town had aspects to their death scenes that were best viewed by someone else first. She would never alter anything. But it helped with interpreting things in a different, unfiltered light; seeing things that would never make it into the reports. 
“The investigators will be here shortly. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave before then. I can vouch for your actions here at the scene, but they may want to interview you at a later time.” Regan frowned, looking down at the body that still seemed to be cooking under the sun. “I don’t like this one. Not that I like any of them, but something feels…” Feels. She hated that inexact, too-human word, hated that it was apt. But it was. Something felt off. “How far are we from the nearest gas store? Nearest anything? I don’t think I’ve seen any other cars drive past since I got here.” She was pretty sure he took her point. It was a bad place to end up without a phone and any water. 
“I think that’s all we’re going to get from him here.” A sickeningly hot gust of wind blew in from behind them, strong enough to nearly knock Regan over. “Woah.” She spun, and watched the field of corn slowly bow to the breeze as it poured through like a wave. Strong one. Ugh, she was sweaty. Regan unbuttoned the top button on her shirt. It was hot out. Time to go cool off. Which, unfortunately, their decedent didn’t get a chance to do. “Stay hydrated today, investigator.”
Emilio waved a hand in Regan’s direction at the mention of tongs, the motion making it pretty clear that he fully expected there to be a next time and fully intended to handle it the same way. Who needed tongs? He flipped open the wallet, humming at the sight of a driver’s license staring back at him. “Brenton Horn,” he rattled off, flipping through the rest of the wallet for good measure. “Cash and cards are still here, so if someone did kill him, it wasn’t for the money. Not that he’s got much of it, from the looks of things. Less than twenty dollars here.” He flipped the wallet shut again, tossing it in Kavanagh’s direction. 
He heard the cars pull up, glanced up to see the flashing lights. He wondered if it was obvious, the way he tensed. Emilio had never been a fan of the police for a vast multitude of reasons, some related to the fact that he did an awful lot of killing in his spare time and some tied to more mundane things. In any case, he had no desire to face down a whole slew of them while standing over a corpse even if they were all well aware that he wasn’t the one responsible for putting it there.
Maybe Kavanagh picked up on that, or maybe she was just circling back to his earlier desire to leave the scene. Either way, there was some relief to be found when she offered to vouch for him at the scene, and he nodded. He wouldn’t be sticking around, that much was certain. “Something’s not right,” he agreed. “We’re a long way out from anything. Doesn’t seem like many people drive by, either. I’m thinking he liked it because it was secluded.” If you were doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing, there was always going to be some desire to do it in absolute privacy. This was about as absolute as a person could get.
“Unless you want to question him,” Emilio agreed dryly. He started to straighten, but the wind pushed him back down again. That was… strange. Christ, it was a hot breeze, too. Sweat dripped down his brow, and he swiped a hand across it with a faint scowl. Kavanagh had the right idea; Emilio tugged at his shirt collar absently, nodding his head. “A drink sounds damn good right now,” he responded, though he doubted what he had in mind would hydrate him much. “Good luck with this one, Dr. Kavanagh. You need an investigator who doesn’t hide behind a badge, you give me a call. Rickers has my number.” 
And then he was off, ducking away from the scene before the police could join it, Brenton Horn’s fate still tugging at something in his mind. He was glad this wasn’t his case anymore. It seemed like it was going to end up one hell of a headache. 
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ulkaralakbarova · 2 months
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Tensions rise when the trailblazing Mother of the Blues and her band gather at a Chicago recording studio in 1927. Adapted from August Wilson’s play. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Ma Rainey: Viola Davis Levee: Chadwick Boseman Cutler: Colman Domingo Toledo: Glynn Turman Slow Drag: Michael Potts Irvin: Jeremy Shamos Sturdyvant: Jonny Coyne Dussie Mae: Taylour Paige Sylvester: Dusan Brown Policeman: Joshua Harto Band Singer: Quinn VanAntwerp Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Chloe Davis Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Mayte Natalio Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Johanna Elmina Moise Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Onyxx Noel Ma Rainey’s Dancer: LaWanda Hopkins Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Sierra Stewart Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Malaiyka Reid Ma Rainey’s Dancer: Catherine Foster Laborer (uncredited): Antonio Fierro Chicago Worker (uncredited): Daniel Johnson Film Crew: Director: George C. Wolfe Producer: Denzel Washington Original Music Composer: Branford Marsalis Production Design: Mark Ricker Producer: Dany Wolf Executive Producer: Constanza Romero Costume Designer: Ann Roth Producer: Todd Black Editor: Andrew Mondshein Director of Photography: Tobias A. Schliessler Casting: Avy Kaufman First Assistant Director: Michele Ziegler Second Assistant Director: Xanthus Valan Stunt Coordinator: Chuck Jeffreys Art Direction: James F. Truesdale Set Designer: Travis Kerr Assistant Art Director: Wes Hottman Set Decoration: Karen O’Hara Set Buyer: Paul Bucciarelli Set Decoration: Diana Stoughton Set Decorating Coordinator: Darlene Salinas Script Supervisor: Megan Graham Makeup Department Head: Matiki Anoff Makeup Artist: Sergio Lopez-Rivera Makeup Artist: Sian Richards Makeup Artist: Carl Fullerton Makeup Supervisor: Debi Young Supervising Sound Editor: Skip Lievsay Screenplay: Ruben Santiago-Hudson Prosthetics: Gary Archer Makeup Artist: Rachel Geary Makeup Artist: Bethany Montecalvo Makeup Artist: Bethany Townes Makeup Artist: Jai Williams Supervising Sound Editor: Paul Urmson Theatre Play: August Wilson Visual Effects: John Allegretti Movie Reviews: Manuel São Bento: If you enjoy reading my Spoiler-Free reviews, please follow my blog @ https://www.msbreviews.com Usually, at the end of each year, I prepare my watchlist for the next twelve months. Obviously, no matter how many movies I add to the list, I know dozens of more films will be announced and released throughout the year. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is one of them. I didn’t know a thing about this flick, but it received the always interesting awards buzz, which turned it into a mandatory viewing before Christmas comes around. I went in knowing only one thing: this is Chadwick Boseman’s (Black Panther, Avengers: Infinity War) last appearance after he passed away a few months ago. I really didn’t know what to expect from this Netflix’s Oscar-bait, but I was afraid that Boseman’s nomination chances were high only due to what happened in real-life instead of him truly deserving that recognition… Well, I can safely and confidently write that Boseman delivers his career-best interpretation, and it wouldn’t be unfair for him to get tons of awards posthumously. From an impeccable accent to his mind-blowing emotional range, passing through long monologues and uncut takes effortlessly, Boseman is the strong glue that holds everything in place. What seems, at first, a hangout movie (narrative without a clear central plot) turns into a character-study. Levee wants to follow his dreams, do what he does best in his own conditions and with his personal interpretation of music and soul. Boseman incorporates this character seamlessly, delivering a memorable performance that I hope will be remembered as a worthy Oscar winner if this situation ends up becoming true. Even though Boseman is the actor that shines brighter, every single one is absolutely outstanding. Viola Davis shares the main spotlight with him by representing the (real-life) iconic blues singer, Ma Rainey. To be completely honest, I didn’t know who this singer was nor how she impacted soul music. Ruben Santiago-Hudson first feature-film sc...
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sweetgrasswater · 7 months
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Halston’s Office in the Olympic Tower from the Netflix Series “Halston” designed by Mark Ricker.
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gigikthings · 2 years
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vtg. Old English Sheepdog.
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Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (2020), directed by George C. Wolfe; based on the play written by August Wilson
Chadwick Boseman as Levee Green; Viola Davis as Ma Rainey
On August 28, 2020, Boseman died during post-production, making Ma Rainey's Black Bottom his final film appearance. The film is dedicated to him.
Nominations for the 93rd Academy Awards:
1. Performance by an actor in a leading role Chadwick Boseman;
2. Performance by an actress in a leading role Viola Davis;
3. Achievement in costume design Ann Roth;
4. Achievement in makeup and hairstyling Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal and Jamika Wilson;
5. Achievement in production design Production Design: Mark Ricker; Set Decoration: Karen O’Hara and Diana Stoughton
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**Maxayn Lewis as Ma's singing voice
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sesiondemadrugada · 7 years
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Snatched (Jonathan Levine, 2017).
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cinemalerta · 4 years
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93rd Academy Awards Nominees
BEST PICTURE
The Father – David Parfitt, Jean-Louis Livi, and Philippe Carcassonne
Judas and the Black Messiah – Shaka King, Charles D. King, and Ryan Coogler
Mank – Ceán Chaffin, Eric Roth, and Douglas Urbanski
Minari – Christina Oh
Nomadland – Frances McDormand, Peter Spears, Mollye Asher, Dan Javey, and Chloé Zhao
Promising Young Woman – Ben Browning, Ashley Fox, Emerald Fennell, and Josey McNamara
Sound of Metal – Bert Hamelinick and Sacha Ben Harroche
The Trial of the Chicago 7 – Marc Platt and Stuart Besser
BEST DIRECTOR
Lee Isaac Chung – Minari
Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman
David Fincher – Mank
Thomas Vinterberg – Another Round
Chloé Zhao – Nomadland
BEST ACTOR
Riz Ahmed – Sound of Metal as Ruben Stone
Chadwick Boseman (posthumous nominee) – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom as Levee Green
Anthony Hopkins – The Father as Anthony
Gary Oldman – Mank as Herman J. Mankiewicz
Steven Yeun – Minari as Jacob Yi
BEST ACTRESS
Viola Davis – Ma Rainey's Black Bottom as Ma Rainey
Andra Day – The United States vs. Billie Holiday as Billie Holiday
Vanessa Kirby – Pieces of a Woman as Martha Weiss
Frances McDormand – Nomadland as Fern
Carey Mulligan – Promising Young Woman as Cassandra “Cassie” Thomas
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Sacha Baron Cohen – The Trial of the Chicago 7 as Abbie Hoffman
Daniel Kaluuya – Judas and the Black Messiah as Fred Hampton
Leslie Odom Jr. – One Night in Miami... as Sam Cooke
Paul Raci – Sound of Metal as Joe
Lakeith Stanfield – Judas and the Black Messiah as William "Bill" O'Neal
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Maria Bakalova – Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan as Tutar Sagdiyev
Glenn Close – Hillbilly Elegy as Bonnie "Mamaw" Vance
Olivia Colman – The Father as Anne
Amanda Seyfried – Mank as Marion Davies
Youn Yuh-jung – Minari as Soon-ja
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Judas and the Black Messiah – Screenplay by Will Berson and Shaka King; Story by Will Berson, Shaka King, Keith Lucas, and Kenny Lucas
Minari – Lee Isaac Chung
Promising Young Woman – Emerald Fennell
Sound of Metal – Screenplay by Darius Marder and Abraham Marder; Story by Darius Marder and Derek Cianfrance
The Trial of the Chicago 7 – Aaron Sorkin
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan – Screenplay by Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Swimer, Peter Baynham, Erica Rivinoja, Dan Mazer, Jena Friedman, and Lee Kern; Story by Baron Cohen, Hines, Swimer, and Nina Pedrad; Based on the character Borat Sagdiyev by Baron Cohen
The Father – Christopher Hampton & Florian Zeller, based on the play by Zeller
Nomadland – Chloé Zhao, based on the book by Jessica Bruder
One Night in Miami... – Kemp Powers, based on his play
The White Tiger – Ramin Bahrani, based on the novel by Aravind Adiga
BEST INTERNATIONAL FEATURE FILM
Another Round (Denmark) in Danish – directed by Thomas Vinterberg
Better Days (Hong Kong) in Mandarin – directed by Derek Tsang
Collective (Romania) in Romanian – directed by Alexander Nanau
The Man Who Sold His Skin (Tunisia) in Arabic – directed by Kaouther Ben Hania
Quo Vadis, Aida? (Bosnia and Herzegovina) in Bosnian – directed by Jasmila Žbanić
BEST ANIMATED FEATURE FILM
Onward – Dan Scanlon and Kori Rae
Over the Moon – Glen Keane, Gennie Rin, and Peilin Chou
A Shaun the Sheep Movie: Farmageddon – Richard Phelan, Will Becher, and Paul Kewley
Soul – Pete Docter and Dana Murray
Wolfwalkers – Tomm Moore, Ross Stewart, Paul Young, and Stéphan Roelants
BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
Collective – Alexander Nanau and Bianca Oana
Crip Camp – Nicole Newnham, Jim LeBrecht and Sara Bolder
The Mole Agent – Maite Alberdi and Marcela Santibáñez
My Octopus Teacher – Pippa Ehrlich, James Reed, and Craig Foster
Time – Garrett Bradley, Lauren Domino, and Kellen Quinn
BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
Judas and the Black Messiah – Sean Bobbitt
Mank – Erik Messerschmidt
News of the World – Dariusz Wolski
Nomadland – Joshua James Richards
The Trial of the Chicago 7 – Phedon Papamichael
BEST FILM EDITING
The Father – Yorgos Lamprinos
Nomadland – Chloé Zhao
Promising Young Woman – Frédéric Thoraval
Sound of Metal – Mikkel E.G. Nielsen
The Trial of the Chicago 7 – Alan Baumgarten
BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN
The Father – Production Design: Peter Francis; Set Decoration: Cathy Featherstone
Ma Rainey's Black Bottom – Production Design: Mark Ricker; Set Decoration: Karen O'Hara and Diana Sroughton
Mank – Production Design: Donald Graham Burt; Set Decoration: Jan Pascale
News of the World – Production Design: David Crank; Set Decoration: Elizabeth Keenan
Tenet – Production Design: Nathan Crowley; Set Decoration: Kathy Lucas
BEST COSTUME DESIGN
Emma – Alexandra Byrne
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom – Ann Roth
Mank – Trish Summerville
Mulan – Bina Daigeler
Pinocchio – Massimo Cantini Parrini
BEST MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING
Emma – Marese Langan, Laura Allen, and Claudia Stolze
Hillbilly Elegy – Eryn Krueger Mekash, Patricia Dehaney, and Matthew Mungle
Ma Rainey's Black Bottom – Matiki Anoff, Mia Neal, and Larry M. Cherry
Mank – Kimberley Spiteri, Gigi Williams
Pinocchio – Dalia Colli, Mark Coulier, and Francesco Pegoretti
BEST VISUAL EFFECTS
Love and Monsters – Matt Sloan, Genevieve Camailleri, Matt Everitt, and Brian Cox
The Midnight Sky – Matthew Kasmir, Christopher Lawren, Max Solomon, and David Watkins
Mulan – Sean Faden, Anders Langlands, Seth Maury, and Steven Ingram
The One and Only Ivan – Nick Davis, Greg Fisher, Ben Jones, and Santiago Colomo Martinez
Tenet – Andrew Jackson, David Lee, Andrew Lockley and
BEST ORIGINAL SCORE
Da 5 Bloods – Terence Blanchard
Mank – Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross
Minari – Emile Mosseri
News of the World – James Newton Howard
Soul – Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, and Jon Batiste
BEST ORIGINAL SONG
"Fight for You" from Judas and the Black Messiah – Music by H.E.R. and Dernst Emile II; Lyric by H.E.R. and Tiara Thomas
"Hear My Voice" from The Trial of the Chicago 7 – Music by Daniel Pemberton; Lyric by Daniel Pemberton and Celeste Waite
"Husavik" from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga – Music and Lyric by Savan Kotecha, Fat Max Gsus, and Rickard Göransson
"Io Sì (Seen)" from The Life Ahead – Music by Diane Warren; Lyric by Diane Warren and Laura Pausini
"Speak Now" from One Night in Miami... – Music and Lyric by Leslie Odom Jr. and Sam Ashworth
BEST SOUND
Greyhound – Warren Shaw, Michael Minkler, Beau Borders, and David Wyman
Mank – Ren Klyce, Jeremy Molod, David Parker, Nathan Nance, and Drew Kunin
News of the World – Oliver Tarney, Mike Prestwood Smith, William Miller, and John Pritchett
Soul – Ren Klyce, Coya Elliot, and David Parker
Sound of Metal – Nicolas Becker, Jaime Baksht, Michelle Couttolenc, Carlos Cortes, and Philip Bladh
BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM
Feeling Through – Doug Roland and Susan Ruzenski
The Letter Room – Elvira Lind and Sofia Sondervan
The Present – Farah Nabulsi
Two Distant Strangers – Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe
White Eye – Tomer Shushan and Shira Hochman
BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM
Burrow – Madeline Sharafian and Michael Capbarat
Genius Loci – Adrien Mérigeau and Amaury Ovise
If Anything Happens I Love You – Will McCormack and Michael Govier
Opera – Eric Oh
Yes-People – Gísli Darri Halldórsson and Arnar Gunnarsson
BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT
Colette – Anthony Giacchino and Alice Doyard
A Concerto Is a Conversation – Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers
Do Not Split – Anders Hammer and Charlotte Cook
Hunger Ward – Skye Fitzgerald and Michael Shueuerman
A Love Song for Latasha – Sophia Nahali Allison and Janice Duncan
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yasbxxgie · 7 years
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The Legend of the 52 Blocks
I don’t know how I first heard about the 52 Blocks. Like much of New York City’s urban mythology—such as the Decepticons gang, the tunnels under Alphabet City, or the albino alligators and alligator-sized rats in the sewers—the legendary hand-to-hand combat style seemed to always hover just outside my conscious knowledge, a whisper from an unclear direction.
Certainly, though, I heard references to the 52 scattered in lyrics by rappers such as Nas protégé Nature and Wu Tang affiliate Killa Sin. The Wu-Tang Clan, in particular, seems to have an affinity for the 52. GZA, Ghostface Killah, Method Man, and various Killa Bee affiliates have all rhymed about the 52. The most memorable lyric about the 52 is probably Meth’s line from his and Redman’s “1,2,1,2”: “52 cops/ Can’t withstand the 52 Blocks/ Unless they bust like 52 shots.”
While working as a night security guard in Manhattan several years ago, I got into a conversation with a guy on the maintenance crew. The man bragged about the various fighting styles he’d studied in his lifetime, swinging his mop handle like a Japanese bō. Considering that he had spent his youth in a reform school in the Rockaways in the ‘70s, and was ostensibly an expert in various fighting forms, I asked him if he knew anything about the 52 Blocks.
“52 Blocks?” he sneered. “That’s ghetto shit. It’s nothing.”
A few minutes later, a buddy of mine who was also on the maintenance crew came upstairs. He was less of a martial arts aficionado, but was a tough guy and had spent some time locked upstate in the ‘90s, so I asked him the same question.
“Yeah.” he said. A smile spread across his face. “Yeah.” He quickly directed me to bring up YouTube on the security computer and search for round five of Judah vs. Mayweather. He knew the exact round of the fight off the top of his head. Chapter and verse. We watched the clip in silence. Mayweather dominates for the first couple minutes, landing several punches, and driving Zab Judah into the corner. Then, a switch flips, and Judah steps forward into the center of the ring. He pulls his elbows in tight, and his arms pivot back and forth across his face like a butterfly flapping its wings.
“You tell me what this is,” an announcer says in disbelief. Mayweather steps backwards—his infamous cockiness drained away—and Judah lands a righteous combination. So this was the 52 Blocks. It was something after all. And it was beautiful.
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Even the name of 52 Blocks is shrouded in mystery. Some say it describes a catalogue of individual moves with fanciful names like the “skull and crossbones.” Others dismiss this, and say that the name is a metaphor for a general style, coming from the game of “52 pickup,” where cards are allowed to fall where they may. Still others say that that the “block” in question is a specific cellblock. Indeed, an alternate name for the 52 is “the Comstock Shuffle,” a reference to The Great Meadow Correctional Facility in Comstock, New York.
Whether it’s 52 Blocks or Comstock, the term refers to a purported codified New York prison system-specific style of Jail House Boxing, aka Jail House Rock. This is held in contrast to related styles in other prison systems, like New Jersey and Pennsylvania, which are rumored to vary, be less codified, and go by different names. The moves themselves supposedly reflect the prison environment. The idea is that the tight stances, lack of far-ranging movement, and emphasis on survival and defense were designed to function in in the confines of a prison cell than a ring. Rumors abound online about a predatory gay 52 Blocks prison master named Mother Dear—and the authoritative Martial Arts of the World: An Encyclopedia even implies that he originated the style himself at Rikers. There is no record of this man’s actual identity.
The first reference in print to this type of fighting style apparently came in a 1974 issue of Black Belt magazine, in a feature on prison karate. Most of the article focuses on the clandestine practice of traditional karate in prisons in New York State and elsewhere, but the conclusion focuses on the more interesting “In House Arts.” Black Belt treats the prison fighting styles as “impromptu” variations on hand-to-hand combat styles used by incarcerated military veterans, and refers to them by facility-specific names, such as “Coxsackie variation” and “Comstock style.”
Amazingly, the afroed-man photographed demonstrating the Comstock style is Miguel Piñero, the famous poet and playwright of the Nuyorican arts movement. Black Belt could not have found a more appropriate model. In his, “A Lower East Side Poem,” Piñero describes himself as, “a street fighting man.” He goes on to explain that he is, “a dweller of prison time/ a cancer of Rockefeller's ghettocide/ this concrete tomb is my home/ to belong to survive you gotta be strong.”
The first direct journalistic reference to 52 Blocks does not seem to have come until the late date of 1999, though, in Douglas Century’s Street Kingdom: Five Years Inside the Franklin Avenue Posse, an immersive account of a Crown Heights gang in the early ‘90s. Century followed up two years later with an eye-opening article about the 52 Blocks in the recently-shuttered fashion magazine, Details. In his book, Century describes “fifty-two hand-blocks” as “a style of hand-to-hand combat developed in the New York State Penal system and widely practiced amongst gang members on the streets of Brooklyn in the ‘70s and ‘80s.” This is as good a definition as any (though some folks from the Bronx or Harlem might object to the geographic specificity). In the Details article, Century quotes Dennis Newsome, a well-known Capoeira master and martial arts scholar, providing his own definition of the 52 Blocks: “Basically it’s an artistic butt-whuppin’ … It’s just part of Black aesthetics.” Newsome goes on to argue that the racially-segregated nature of prison meant that only African American inmates learned the style.
Lore has it that the 52 Blocks worked its way down from the prisons to the streets in the ‘70s. This is plausible; street style has always reflected prison culture, and moves that would work in the confines of prisons would work just as well in the confines of the similarly-designed housing projects which had come to dominate New York City’s ghettos in the era of urban renewal. Because any effective fighting style would essentially be contraband, an illicit weapon smuggled in and out of prison, it would have had to remain underground. Whether it referred to legend or fact, the name 52 Blocks was restricted to argot. This secrecy is part of what makes it so difficult to trace or verify much of this history.
Through a shared association with the prison system, the 52 Blocks came to be connected in many people’s minds with the self-mythologizing Nation of Gods and Earths, more commonly known as the Five Percenters. The history of the Five Percenters is too complex to get into here, but it is a fascinating movement which was founded by a former Nation of Islam minister named Clarence 13X, aka Father Allah, in Harlem in the ‘60s. The Five Percenters’ unique approach to language has had a profound impact on Hip Hop, and modern American slang.
The Five Percenter lessons—themselves an enumerated code of arcane knowledge often learned in prison—could be seen as a mental parallel to the 52 Blocks, just as many Eastern practices have both a spiritual and physical aspect. In his book, Tao of 52, self-declared expert Diallo Frazier writes: “52 was called God Blocks because in the science of Supreme math, the number 7 is the number of GOD. When you add 5 and 2 you get 7 …” Narratives of receiving esoteric transmission of religious and martial instruction behind bars have a strong appeal for many people have been incarcerated, as they allow the years spent in prison to be viewed as time spent gaining knowledge, rather than simply wasted.
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In the early 1970s, perceptions of Asian martial arts began to influence New York street culture through the popular imported Kung Fu movies. Aficionados had long traveled to movie theatres on Canal Street in Chinatown, but the explosion of martial arts film screenings in midtown meant that a wider, non-Asian audience was exposed to the genre. A 1974 article in the film journal Cineaste proclaimed:
In a little more than two years, kung fu (also known as Chinese boxing), the centuries-old Chinese martial art, has caught the fancy of the American public and literally become the ‘fist of fury.’
As the 2013 documentary The Black Kungfu Experience depicts, some African American fans of Kung Fu movies were inspired to actually train in Chinese and Japanese martial arts. Ron Van Clief, a Brooklyn native, became a martial arts champion after surviving a lynching down south in the early ‘60s, and serving in combat as a Marine in the Vietnam War. He was given the name “The Black Dragon” by none other than Bruce Lee, and eventually moved to Hong Kong to star in a plethora of Kung Fu movies. These movies, in turn, inspired a whole new generation of African American martial arts practitioners.
Van Clief was the fight choreographer for the 1985 Berry Gordy-produced film, The Last Dragon. The Last Dragon, which features a showdown between two black martial arts experts in Harlem, represented the confluence of Kung Fu cinema and New York street culture. Jim Jarmusch would build on the trope fifteen years later, in Ghost Dog, a movie scored by Wu Tang’s leader, RZA. Considering that The Wu-Tang Clan’s imagery draws so heavily from both Five Percenters and Kung Fu movies, it’s no surprise that their lyrics contain so many 52 Blocks references.
The influence of film does not mean that the ‘70s martial arts trend was solely about play acting; street gangs like the Black Spades, the Nomads, and the Ghetto Brothers were actively engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Examples of this can be found in the excellent recent documentary, Rubble Kings, which chronicles the events leading up to the 1971 Hoe Avenue gang truce in the South Bronx. The film features an influential figure named “Karate Charlie” Suarez. Suarez—a Marine-turned-gang leader-turned-activist-turned-martial arts instructor—literally made a name for himself as a karate practitioner, and inspired a myriad of imitators.
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Many 52 Blocks proponents argue that the true inspiration for the form does not come from Asia, but from Africa. 52 Blocks scholar Daniel Marks, who first learned of the form from street savvy recruits while in the Army, refers in a brief monograph to the southern African American fighting style of “Knocking and Kicking.” Frazier similarly connects Jail House Rock back to a “Virginia Scufflin” boxing style practiced by slaves in the 1800s. The existence of enslaved bare knuckle boxers—like the famous Tom Molineaux—who were forced to fight for their masters’ entertainment, is documented in other sources, including the foundational early-1800s prize fighting account, Boxiana. Marks and Frazier both connect Southern African American fighting styles back to African martial arts, such as Hausa Boxing (also known as Dambe) in Nigeria.
Within the martial arts community, there are many detractors who question if the 52 Blocks even exists at all, let alone possesses a history stretching back centuries. Considering that martial arts is a field filled with both Orientalist frauds and blustering bravado, and that there is so little hard evidence on the history of the 52 Blocks, some measure of skepticism is certainly warranted. That being said, much of the derision for the 52 Blocks goes well beyond careful critical appraisal. A typical attack is articulated by the right-wing writer Phil Elmore:
the system simply doesn’t exist […] we are asked to believe that a people sold into slavery and shipped across the ocean to serve as slaves in the United States somehow managed to transmit the coherent body of a complex, technically diverse martial arts system to their children, their children’s children, and their children for generations, all under the watchful eye of slave owners who would not be eager to have their property learning to fight.
Elmore’s essentially racist argument not only dismisses the 52, but the very idea that African American culture builds on traditions brought over from Africa. Apparently the man has never heard of blues music, or any other African Diaspora art form. And if he doesn’t believe that martial organization could happen under “the watchful eye of slave owners,” then someone should tell him about Nat Turner.
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The crack epidemic of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s brought an unprecedented level of violence to the streets of America’s cities. During this era, hand-to-hand street fighting gave way to gun violence. Those who posit that the 52 Blocks was a tradition passed down through generations point to this disruptive historical moment as the end of the form’s practical use and transmission. In the song “Cold World,” GZA raps about the inefficacy of the 52 Blocks in a burgeoning gun culture: “But with iron on the sides, thugs took no excuses/ Therefore, your fifty-two hand blocks was useless.”
As the 52 Blocks became a relic of the past—historical or mythic—some people began to preserve and honor it as part of African American heritage and culture. Constellation 52 Global, a group which includes Marks and Kawaun Adon Akhenoten7 (aka “Big K” of Street Kingdom fame), works to document and perpetuate the tradition. Marks writes that he values the 52 Blocks, “as a testament of our struggle as Black people in the Diaspora fighting for equality.”
The idea of the 52 Blocks has also gradually taken more of a presence in sports, entertainment, and popular culture. Some boxing fans speculate that in addition to Zab Judah, other boxers like Mike Tyson may have incorporated elements of the 52 into their fighting styles. This theory is rooted in the fact that Tyson received much of his fighting education in the streets of Brooklyn and in a New York State juvenile detention facility. After hearing tell of the form’s fabled efficacy, some martial arts students are seeking to learn the 52 Blocks in more formal settings. This phenomenon was mentioned in a 2009 New York Times article which, in addition to Marks and Akhenoten7, focused on Lyte Burly, a trainer who teaches a version of the 52 Blocks as a business. The Times article also discussed a meeting between Marks and UFC Champion Rashad Evans, and Evans’ interest in 52 Blocks techniques.
The 52 Blocks is finding its place on the screen as well, just as Kung Fu once did. Because of its speed and flash, the 52 Blocks is made for the medium. Indeed, many people now receive their first glimpse of the 52 in YouTube videos, just as I did. Strangely, the first mainstream use of 52 Blocks-style moves was by Mel Gibson in the 1987 film Lethal Weapon. The Australian learned his moves from Dennis Newsome. More recently, the 52 Blocks mythology plays a prominent role in the BET series Gun Hill. Larenz Tate’s character, Bird, is an ex-convict posing as a law enforcement officer, so his knowledge of the 52 is somewhat logical to the plot. Though Tate’s fighting technique—coordinated by Diallo Frazier—may very well be flash designed for TV, rather than an authentic reflection of a prison and street fighting tradition, its central use in the narrative demonstrates the continuing popular appeal of the legend of the 52 Blocks, two decades after the Wu-Tang era.
Despite the lights and cameras, the 52 Blocks remains, in its essence, an art form of bare hands, operating behind concrete and steel. Not too long ago, my girlfriend’s work took her to Harlem early in the morning, just after dawn. Passing through Marcus Garvey Park, she saw a lone man in his fifties—with the weathered look of an ex-con—training inside the playground jungle gym, down the hill from the old fire tower. His half-century-old arms flashed in front of his face, cutting through the morning air.
“Was that 52 Blocks?” she asked me when she got home. “It was like nothing else I’ve ever seen.”
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awardseason · 4 years
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26th Critics’ Choice Awards — Film Winners
BEST PICTURE Da 5 Bloods Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom Mank Minari  News of the World Nomadland — WINNER One Night in Miami  Promising Young Woman Sound of Metal The Trial of the Chicago 7
BEST ACTOR Ben Affleck – The Way Back Riz Ahmed – Sound of Metal  Chadwick Boseman – Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — WINNER Tom Hanks – News of the World Anthony Hopkins – The Father  Delroy Lindo – Da 5 Bloods Gary Oldman – Mank  Steven Yeun – Minari
BEST ACTRESS Viola Davis – Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom Andra Day – The United States vs. Billie Holiday Sidney Flanigan – Never Rarely Sometimes Always Vanessa Kirby – Pieces of a Woman  Frances McDormand – Nomadland  Carey Mulligan – Promising Young Woman— WINNER Zendaya – Malcolm & Marie
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR Chadwick Boseman – Da 5 Bloods Sacha Baron Cohen – The Trial of the Chicago 7 Daniel Kaluuya – Judas and the Black Messiah — WINNER Bill Murray – On the Rocks Leslie Odom, Jr. – One Night in Miami Paul Raci – Sound of Metal
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS Maria Bakalova – Borat Subsequent Moviefilm — WINNER Ellen Burstyn – Pieces of a Woman Glenn Close – Hillbilly Elegy Olivia Colman – The Father Amanda Seyfried – Mank Yuh-Jung Youn – Minari
BEST YOUNG ACTOR/ACTRESS Ryder Allen – Palmer  Ibrahima Gueye – The Life Ahead Alan Kim – Minari — WINNER Talia Ryder – Never Rarely Sometimes Always  Caoilinn Springall – The Midnight Sky Helena Zengel – News of the World
BEST ACTING ENSEMBLE Da 5 Bloods Judas and the Black Messiah Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom Minari  One Night in Miami The Trial of the Chicago 7 — WINNER
BEST DIRECTOR Lee Isaac Chung – Minari Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman David Fincher – Mank Spike Lee – Da 5 Bloods  Regina King – One Night in Miami Aaron Sorkin – The Trial of the Chicago 7 Chloé Zhao – Nomadland — WINNER
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Lee Isaac Chung – Minari Emerald Fennell – Promising Young Woman — WINNER Jack Fincher – Mank Eliza Hittman – Never Rarely Sometimes Always Darius Marder & Abraham Marder – Sound of Metal Aaron Sorkin – The Trial of the Chicago 7
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY Paul Greengrass & Luke Davies – News of the World Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller – The Father Kemp Powers – One Night in Miami Jon Raymond & Kelly Reichardt – First Cow Ruben Santiago-Hudson – Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom Chloé Zhao – Nomadland — WINNER
BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY Christopher Blauvelt – First Cow  Erik Messerschmidt – Mank Lachlan Milne – Minari  Joshua James Richards – Nomadland — WINNER Newton Thomas Sigel – Da 5 Bloods  Hoyte Van Hoytema – Tenet Dariusz Wolski – News of the World
BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN Cristina Casali, Charlotte Dirickx – The Personal History of David Copperfield David Crank, Elizabeth Keenan – News of the World  Nathan Crowley, Kathy Lucas – Tenet  Donald Graham Burt, Jan Pascale – Mank — WINNER Kave Quinn, Stella Fox – Emma. Mark Ricker, Karen O’Hara & Diana Stoughton – Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
BEST EDITING Alan Baumgarten – The Trial of the Chicago 7 — WINNER (TIE) Kirk Baxter – Mank  Jennifer Lame – Tenet Yorgos Lamprinos – The Father  Mikkel E. G. Nielsen – Sound of Metal — WINNER (TIE) Chloé Zhao – Nomadland 
BEST COSTUME DESIGN Alexandra Byrne – Emma. Bina Daigeler – Mulan  Suzie Harman & Robert Worley – The Personal History of David Copperfield Ann Roth – Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — WINNER Nancy Steiner – Promising Young Woman Trish Summerville – Mank
BEST HAIR AND MAKEUP Emma. Hillbilly Elegy  Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom — WINNER Mank  Promising Young Woman  The United States vs. Billie Holiday 
BEST VISUAL EFFECTS Greyhound  The Invisible Man  Mank  The Midnight Sky  Mulan Tenet — WINNER Wonder Woman 1984 
BEST COMEDY Borat Subsequent Moviefilm The Forty-Year-Old Version  The King of Staten Island On the Rocks  Palm Springs — WINNER The Prom
BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM Another Round  Collective  La Llorona The Life Ahead  Minari — WINNER Two of Us 
BEST SONG Everybody Cries – The Outpost  Fight for You – Judas and the Black Messiah  Husavik (My Home Town) – Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga  Io sì (Seen) – The Life Ahead  Speak Now – One Night in Miami — WINNER Tigress & Tweed – The United States vs. Billie Holiday 
BEST SCORE Alexandre Desplat – The Midnight Sky  Ludwig Göransson – Tenet  James Newton Howard – News of the World  Emile Mosseri – Minari  Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross – Mank  Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, and Jon Batiste – Soul — WINNER
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rapturerecords · 4 years
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Song: Slave to the Blues / Oh My Babe Blues
Artist: Ma Rainey and her Georgia Band
Record Label: Paramount 12332
Recorded: ca. December 1925
Location: Project V13 teaser
A rare song from a rare label. Here’s “Slave to the Blues” presented by the infamous Paramount Records label. Regrettably due to both its age and the somewhat non-standard practices of recording and pressing at the label, the audio quality leaves something to be desired, but I have tried to clear up some of the noise.
This year is rather auspicious as it is the 10 year anniversary of the 2010 teaser for Project V13 on the Fallout website and also the recent release of a new film Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom on Netflix. This record happens to have been made two years before the recording session depicted in the film.
When logging into the now-defunct Fallout Online website, players were greeted with a series of Polaroid photographs being tossed onto the table offering shots of buildings and concept art while this song emanates from the glowing record player and radio combination console on the right.
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Recorded in late 1925 in the winter, this song is one of the few songs from the 1920s used in Fallout and would have been the oldest recording used in the series.
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A period Chicago Defender print ad for Ma Rainey’s “Bessemer Bound Blues”, recorded during the same session. Also listed are other Paramount Record titles.
Born Gertrude Pridgett, though otherwise known as Ma Rainey, she lived a fairly colorful life rife with intrigue and rumor. Even her birthplace is uncertain with various sources giving credit to Alabama or Georgia.
As her named suggests, she is dubbed the “Mother of the Blues”, combining elements of vaudeville and early “jass” (later spelled as jazz). She and her husband William “Pa” Rainey toured extensively throughout the South in the 1900s and 1910s with live performances in minstrel shows and vaudeville. It’s around this time she coined the term “blues” to describe her music as well as developing a relationship with Bessie Smith, also up and coming.
Though demand for recordings by black musicians was high, the color barrier meant that Rainey was not able to be shellacked until 1923 by signing with Paramount.
While she recorded with many jazz stars of the day and made over one hundred recordings with Paramount, the film focuses on her last years with the label which would also go bankrupt by the 1930s.
Regrettably, there are comparatively few photos of Ma Rainey, but her voice still echoes from the grooves.
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Left: A still of the 1984 Broadway cast, Center: A Playbill for “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”, Right: A reverse shot of the same scene from inside the recording room from the 2020 film
Strictly speaking, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is not an biographical film, but rather a restaging of the 1984 August Wilson play of the same name which dramatizes a 1927 recording session in Chicago. Many of the scenes take place outside of the recording room and focuses on conversations between the band members. With the exception of Ma Rainey herself, while the roles of the musicians, the recording engineer and so on undoubtedly existed, the characters are largely fictional.
The title refers to a song and dance of the same name, and of course Ma Rainey’s version of it as yet to be recorded until near the end of the story. The above record label represents the central MacGuffin which is never directly seen in the film, but drives the plot forward. While much has been said about the characters portrayed in the film including the last film role of Chadwick Boseman, here’s a closer look at one of the more muted mechanical stars of the 1920s recording process documented in the film.
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Triptych of a heat wave: an electric fan, an ice-cold 5¢ bottle of Coca-Cola, and a box of discarded lacquer discs.
A slight change to the script of the play is the changing of the setting from winter to summer as foreheads glisten with perspiration. While dialing up the oppressive heat brings more prominence to the electric fan and Coca-Cola scenes (the character Levee also attempts to repeatedly open a door for ventilation), the original recording session for “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” was in the winter of 1927. Perhaps the winter release of the Netflix film was meant to be a reminder.
This also has an impact on the recording session itself. The film depicts the recording session using smooth black lacquer discs (sometimes called acetate discs though they do not contain that material). As the recording engineer tosses the bad takes into the bin, it shows they are thin metal discs covered with a thin layer of nitrocellulose lacquer.
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Industry films showing wax blanks used to make the initial recording before heading to the plating process. Note how the wax is polished to a shine, the disc is thicker, and of a lighter color than lacquer. The text intertitles indicate silent film footage. The first three rows date to the 1920s with the third for a Columbia Records pressing plant. The last row is a film from the 1940s showing RCA Victor still using wax recording blanks. All are for shellac 78 rpm records as the vinyl LP would be introduced in 1948.
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Industry films showing lacquer covered blanks used to make the initial recording before heading to the plating process. Note how the blanks are glossy black and much thinner. The first row is from the late 1930s showing lacquer discs being used to eventually cut shellac 78s for Variety Records. 1948 would bring the invention of the vinyl LP and more common color footage. The second row shows updated footage from RCA Victor in the 1950s now using lacquer discs to press newly invented vinyl LPs. The last row also shows lacquer blanks for Capitol Records. If you don’t recognize Mel Blanc’s face, you may recognize his voice from innumerable Looney Tunes cartoons. 
Contemporary film footage from record pressing plants during the 1920s more commonly show thicker one-inch discs made of wax being used in the record lathe. Lacquer discs were more commonly used in the decades following.
A wax disc would have melted in the sultry summer of Chicago which gets as hot as it does cold in the winter. While it was easy to keep a wax disc warm, cooling technology had not progressed so far during that period. Many of Ma Rainey’s recording sessions appear to have been made in the winter or at least the cooler months in Chicago and New York. A humorous anecdote about a 1930s Bob Wills recording session details packing the wax master recordings on couple hundred pounds of ice to beat the Texas heat.
Though phonograph cylinders were made of wax a few decades prior, these wax discs made during the recording process was the origin of the term “spinning wax” popularized by disc-jockeys.
Regardless of wax or lacquer, this recording is extremely fragile and unable to be played very much. Similar to today, the process still continues to metal plating where multiple more durable metal copies are mirrored before eventually stamping out the right side up grooves into a vinyl slab, or more appropriate for the era depicted in this film, a shellac record.
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Production designer Mark Ricker called the record lathe the “fifth star of the movie”. There are scant details about where they obtained the record lathe except it was from a recreator in the Los Angeles area. It is possibly related to the work of Nicholas Bergh who had restored a working 1920s record lathe which was featured in the documentary film series American Epic. The series explores this period of early recorded music and the people in front of and behind the microphone including Ma Rainey. In addition, contemporary artists attempt to adapt their music to the rigors, quirks, and restrictions of a 1920s recording studio. Jack White also produced on the film as well as producing the extensive Rise and Fall of Paramount Records box sets. Admittedly, the two machines aren’t a perfect match, but there is a very similar brass weight driving the entire mechanism which spectacularly snaps and crashes to the floor in a recording session.
With lacquer discs being used to preserve radio broadcasts by the late 1930s, it is likely the record lathe was adapted to work with lacquer discs since they are still in use today and more common to come by than wax discs.
Also notable during the session is that all the instruments and the vocalist share one microphone. The request for a second microphone was likely for dramatic effect. Similar to the acoustic era, the early electric microphone era were still experimenting with proper placement. It is a testament to the power of Ma Rainey’s voice that it can be picked out amongst the surface noise as the instruments and vocals move in and out of focus.
These were the days before the invention of magnetic tape and a substantially reduced recording booth without hulking amplifiers, control boards, and tape machines reflects that. Multi-track recording, overdubbing, or even audio editing was very difficult to accomplish in the pre-tape era. One microphone, one take, and direct to disc, otherwise the recording had to be done over.
While wax could be remelted or perhaps shaved, a flubbed take on a lacquer disc could not. Despite what some of the characters say, 6, 7, 8, 9 takes for the first song of a set-list would be expensive. Paramount would go bankrupt in the following years.
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Paramount Records had a storied history nearly rivaling Ma Rainey herself though the record itself largely serves as the MacGuffin in the story. While the name of the record label was never directly mentioned in the film, there are some loose references. The advertising placards around the door mention offerings from a chair factory which Paramount originated. The Wisconsin Chair Company added making phonograph cabinets to its list of operations before delving into making their own phonographs and a record label in 1918.
Like Ma Rainey’s manager, the roles of the recording engineer and the record producer were likely combined into one character, Sturdyvant of Hot Rhythm Recordings, as the sign outside says.
Due to the popularity of the “race records”, Paramount had actually rented or owned recording studios in New York, Chicago, and in Wisconsin. Jay Mayo Williams or “Ink” Williams served as an unofficial liaison between Paramount and the African-American community, even convincing Ma Rainey to record for the label.
However, the label was plagued by low-quality pressings and inconsistent recording practices. Some records even have other songs heard in neighboring rooms. Williams would leave to produce his own record label Black Patti and later was head of the race records department at Decca.
The coming of the 1930s and the Great Depression spelled the end for Paramount Records. Employees were let go or reportedly paid in the metal record masters. Though many were sold for scrap metal, local rumor has the disgruntled employees throwing the masters into the Milwaukee River.
As a result, much of the Paramount Records catalog has become exceedingly rare or outright lost to the ages.
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As a coda, a final scene was added to the film which was not present in the original play. A white orchestra plays a restrained version of a composition heard earlier by the Levee character. The bandleader is not named, but strongly resembles Paul Whiteman, one of the most recorded of the dance bands of the day. His trademark mustache and oval head were frequently caricatured even on his own record labels. Though he never recorded for Paramount, he was at the Victor and Columbia labels at the time, in addition to the circumstances of the recording session in the film there is an added layer referring to the background of his controversial self-styled moniker “The King of Jazz”.
Listen to the flip side “Oh My Babe Blues” here.
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etherealvoidechoes · 4 years
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The Pink Hair Incident - XCOM 2 Fic
Took awhile, but got it done. More me slacking off on the main fic(and others) hehe. This one “noodle incident” just was on my mind and a little fun with picking on Bradford.
The usual spoiler warnings as this will be integrated into the main fic when the time comes. So there may be mild to major spoilers for some events, but I’ve tried my best to be vague. Gonna be fun updating the character list again.
Also warning for language and I think that’s it for this 7k fic. Enjoy!
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“Ah geez.” A mutter slipped from the Commander’s lips. A faint headache was pestering her as she walked the corridors of the Avenger. She craned her neck back and forth, giving it a good rub.
“This training is going to be the death of me.”
Another round of honing her psionic abilities with Navla, their resident Templar on loan from Geist. Another round of hell for her body and mind, but it all had a purpose. It had been only a few weeks since their fateful meeting and new partnership, but ever since then Navla started training her, their sessions had already grown long and harsh.
“The faster you master this, the greater chancee you have of finding them and ensuring the survival of both of you and the earth.”
More weight on her shoulders, as always. “My survival.” And such a scary revelation to the Commander. So many questions answered that day. Why her health was such a mess and why she just wasn’t recovering properly. She paused in her steps as something caught her attention. A recently buffed panel shimmered under the lights. She saw her reflection.
“Still can’t believe it.” She stepped closer to the panel. She pushed and pulled at her features, enamored by some recent changes. Her proper skin tone was finally back and her face was looking less gaunt; same with the rest of her body. How so much of her being was tied to these psionics of hers. Partially damaged that day and further damaged by the Elders’ experiments. Now if only those diamond marks would disappear, but they were most likely permanent. Like the new addition on her neck. 
“Hair finally not growing in a patchy mess.” At least that made her smile. So far it was only just a few inches, but it was better than nothing. She was looking forward to the day she would be able to braid it into a bun.
“Ow…”  She shut her eyes tight. That headache grow for a split second before becoming faint again. “Keep walking, will keep my mind off of it. Maybe get something to eat. Haven’t had anything for about a day.” A new metabolism to get use too. A quick stretch and she started moving again.
Deciding to take the long way to the mess hall, more or so just her really wanting to stretch her legs, she ended passing near the Barracks. Just as she was about to travel down the next set of stairs, an eruption of laughter caught her attention.
“Sounds like they’re having a good time.” She smiled. Always nice hearing the crew blow off some steam, even in tough times. In a short time the laughter grew louder and that only made her curious. “Wouldn’t hurt to poke my head in. Check in on them. Is a part of my job.” She mused to herself and turned around. As she got closer to the Barracks, she recognized a few familiar voices. “There’s that hyena cackle from Rickers.” She wondered how he didn’t kill his throat when he laughed like that. “Wonder what got him, Hazel, Yvonne up here.” She recognized the laughters of the other engineers. And then one stuck out to her. More or so what they said. And how they said it.
“And the next second she was like, ‘Je ne sais quoi? Je ne sais quoi!?’, and just cursed him out in French Creole mixed with Japanese, a hint of English, something else.” She heard Central doing a terrible imitation of her Cajun accent. 
“Oh.” She paused in her tracks. “Oh, he isn’t telling that story.” She raised a hand to her face. Why, why, why? She couldn’t let that stop her. Eventually that story would get out since she promised some of the crew she would talk about the old days. Especially since some of the crew that was from the old days would bring up some old antics that happened at the various bases.
“Hopefully this is the only embarrassing story he has told.” She shook her head. Getting her resolve back, she poked her head into the room. “Wow.” She held back a gasp. The room was packed. Especially the main table, as there were more chairs than usual. Look like there was a mini party going on with various drinks and food containers strung about. 
“She just — she just chewed him out,” Central tried his best to compose himself but he was laughing too hard, “nearly passed out from talking so fast! Man, that venom and antidote just messed up her system!” He smacked the table a few times. “ Surprised she didn’t pounce on Beckart, and he deserved it, as she chewed him out. Took me and a few doctors to pry her away and usher her back to the infirmary. She nearly bite me!”
“That had to be a sight!” Shay shook her head. She couldn’t believe such a thing happened to the Commander. “Makes me wish I was at the main base to see that!”
“Huh, even when half coherent she can be a force to be feared.” Corvo shook his head. “Even being half-dead can’t stop her. Explains a lot.” He softly chuckled. 
“Well, now I know something not to pull on the Commander.” Leo shook his head as he laughed.
“Seriously, Leo!?” Trish shot him a glare.
“Hey! I’m not that crazy to use the venom of them bugs!” He glared right back. “More or so talking about rigging up a puppet of one of them blighters to pull some scares! Knowing this now, I’m saving my ass in advance! Ain’t triggering no PTSD for her!”
“That’s.. actually surprising coming from you… And caring.” She patted him on the back. “Apologies for my assumption.”
“Hey guys!” The Commander finally spoke up as she entered the room. “What’s all the noise about?”
“Hey Command-y!” Trish waved at her. Always that nickname with her.
“Yo!” Leo waved.
“Ey boss!” Blake gave a wave before returning his eyes to some grenade designs he was working on. Always working in one of his sketchbooks.
“Commander Reeves.” Corvo gave a quick salute of wave.
“Hey Reeves!” Shay waved.
The others gave their greetings to the Commander. A few of them picking up the “Command-y” nickname from Trish. Looked like that wasn’t going away anytime soon.
All were pretty happy to see her. Central on the other hand was sputtering. He was taking a swig of his drink just as she finally made herself known. He buried  his face in his elbow as he coughed his lungs out. Soon another round of laughter erupted as some noticed the growing tinge of pink on Central’s cheeks.
“Need a cold towel Bradford?” 
“Can it, Corvo.” He glared at him. “Hey, Commander!” He finally acknowledged her presence. Though a twitchy smile was betraying him.
She couldn’t help but smirk. “So what’s going on?”
“Tch! Bradford’s just telling some of his stories.” Shay explained. “Stories from the old days.”
“Story time with Grandpa Central!” Rickers cackled like a hyena.
“Hey!” Central shot Rickers a glare.
The Commander had to hold back a chuckle. “So, what story where you sharing, John?”
“Well…” Central tugged at his collar.
“Wise ass Sergent Beckart nearly killing ya with some Chryssalid venom. Bloody crazy.” Leo spoke up.
“And your reaction to the antidote.” Trish tagged on. “Je ne sais quoi?” She roughly repeated the way Central did and broke out in laughter. A few joined her.
“Oh, that story.” She shook her head. She rubbed her right shoulder. Faintly remembering where that claw landed. “Yeah, Beckart was thoroughly punished for his idiocy.”
“Even with how professional ya’ll XCOM folk were back in the day, seems like ya’ll still had to deal with crazies like us.” Vera spoke up with her thick southern drawl.
“Yeah there were many… incidents off and on.” She shook her head as a few faint memories came to mind.
“Like someone dragging you up into the vent after they got their leg augments.” Someone said.
“Or the one invisible solider moving things in your office without you noticing. Had to make ya feel like you were going insane, huh?”
“Or the augmented races throughout the base? Heard those got crazy real fast!”
“Oh…” The Commander felt her brow twitch. Looked like someone had blabbered quite a bit. She made her way over to Central, keeping firm eye contact on him. He was purposefully looking away from her, nursing that drink of his. “Exactly how many stories have you shared with them, John?”
“Well…” He barely glanced at her.
“Quite a bit. Most from when he was drunk ages ago.” Corvo said.
“C-Corvo!” 
She shook her head. Figured. “Well, these were eventually going to come out at some point. I did make some promises to share stories of the old days.” Central started to relax once she said that.  “Though!” With a loud smack, she brought her hands down on his shoulders once she was behind him. He quickly tensed, nearly dropping his drink. “I’m still going to get you later if all you’ve been sharing is embarrassing ones.” 
“I haven’t’.”
“You sure?” She asked with a grin. She looked up to the rest of the crew. “Has he?”
The crew did their best to stifle their laughs, but a few slipped out.
“It’s been a good mix. He’s told some of his own embarrassing stories!” Trish was quick to throw Central a bone. 
“With the occasional embarrassing one about ya, Commander.” Leo on the other hand wanted to make him squirm. “Think my favorite is the one about that one UN dude and when he finally joined. Gave you some headaches with his creative actions in the field and encourage the others to do the same.”
“LeEoO!” Central squeaked when the Commander squeezed his shoulders.
“Ah, him.” She gave him a few more squeezes before finally releasing his shoulders of her death grip. “Peter Van Doorn.” She recalled his full name. “Remember him well. Actually miss that guy… and his antics. Put some serious fear into those Thin Men.”
“Peter Van Doorn…” Central muttered. “That’s his name. Van Doorn… Hmm…”
“Hmm?”
“No, I have a transmission I need to double check later. Nothing to worry about.” 
“So, Commander.” Esper spoke up. Their other resident psionic had her feet up on the table and was smacking away on her gum loudly. “I heard ya had pink hair at one point.” She raised his hands, making a frame with her fingers. “Having a hard time picturing ya with that, but curious as hell of who did it to ya?”
“Esper…” Symon, another one of their psionics and close friend of Esper, eyed her nervously. “Is that wise to ask such a thing?”
“Psy, blonde, chill.” Esper patted his arm.
“Ya! That one!” Leo snapped his fingers. “Who was the insane wanker to pull that off?” 
The Commander immediately grimaced at the mention of that. In a heartbeat, she was starting dagger at Central’s head. “Pink… hair.” She said through gritted teeth; nails digging into his shoulders.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Hey!” Central raised his hands, knocking hers off his shoulders. “I’ve never told that one!” He was sure of it.
“Drunk babbling.” Corvo darkly chuckled. “Slight mentions here and there.”
“Corvo…” Central glared at him. Or maybe he wasn’t so sure.
“So there is a story!” Esper laughed at the reaction of both of them.
“Oh, sounds like it was bad.” Leo grinned.
“Ugh…” The Commander rubbed her face. So much for being calm in situations like this. Now their interests were truly piqued. No point in not letting that story be told.
“It’s not related to XCOM to tell the truth…” The Commander trailed off as she looked around for a seat to grab. She was staying. “Actually happened when we were teenagers. My lovely, but idiotic, brother did it. Taking advantage of my stylist uncle bleaching my hair as an experiment.” She shook her head. “Never again with that. Turned out nice but messed up my hair texture for awhile.”
“Still trying to figure out how.” Central shook his head. Charles was such a character. Got it from his grandfather.
“Teenagers? Ya’ll two know each other for that long?” Leo asked genuinely surprised.
“You really haven’t been keeping on the up and up have you?” Trish facepalmed, almost embarrassed that he didn’t know that.
“Oi! I ain’t from the time you fucking joined Centy and the gang. So you’ve known him longer.”
“Right, but still… learn some history.” She rolled her eyes.
“To answer your questions Leo, yes we’ve known each other for that long.” The Commander answered as she came back over with a chair. They made room for her. “Met in high school when my family relocated to Kansas because of my father’s position in the military.”
“Ya were a soldier brat, eh?” 
“Yes, but funnily enough, we never moved that much.”
“So, high school?” Esper spoke up. “How did ya two become such good friends.”
“Hm…” The Commander rubbed her chin. She actually had to search for the memory.
“I think I got to know your brother before I finally got to know you.” Central said. “Think it was a hunting trip my uncle invited your brother, and he asked if he could extend it to your dad and you. He was skeptical of course, but your brother has a way with words.”
“Ya!” She snapped her fingers. “That was it! Fun times and good elk meat we got that day. Man, I miss the taste of that.”
“My uncle found a new hunting partner in you dad when my father was busy, and from there our friendship blossomed.“ He chuckled.
“Impressed by her shooting skills?” Esper raised their eyebrows up and down.
Central raised a brow. “We had similar interests.” He wasn’t going to entertain the question.
“Sure about that? No high school flings?” She edged on. The Commander snorted at that.
“Please,” a strong sneer came from him, “our friendship had no romance and before you even go there, our relationship is strictly professional.” Esper only grinned at his reaction which caused him to glare at her.
Corvo started snickering, which caused other to do likewise. “Sure.” He mumbled under his breath before taking a sip of his cider.  
Now that glare turned to Corvo. “Corvo, so help me I will throw your chrome dome ass off the top of the Avenger.”
“Like to see you try. Lover boy.”
“Lover boy?” The Commander asked. “When did you get that?” Both eyebrows raised. A hint of curious confusion was on her face. She never heard that name applied to him before.
Some crew snickered, a few erupted into laughter. That only made her more confused. What was she missing?
“Anyway,” Leo clapped a few times to break up a potential spat, and save Central, “gonna tell us the story or what?”
“Since you dug yourself into this mess,” the Commander smacked Central’s shoulder, specifically targeting that scar, “I’ll let you tell it, John.”
“Eek!” His drink clattered to the table. “Yeesh!” He rubbed his shoulder. “Go easy on the scar.”
“Saved by the Brit.” Corvo chuckled. “For now.”
 “Can it.” He wondered why Corvo was in such a cantankerous mood. He would get him later. He also knew the Commander would get him later. “You’re gonna kill me later, aren’t you?” Just a surface thought for the Commander to read.
“Maybe.” She sent him a thought. “I may be merciful.”
“Oh joy.”
“Now let’s see…” Central rubbed his face as he searched his memories for this event. “Believe this happened back in 1996 or so, memory is hazy. Jynn’s family invited me to join their family trip to the Grand Canyon for the summer, and I did not feel like going to the family farm just yet.”
And the story began.
———————
Grand Canyon, Arizona. Layered bands of red rock that had over millions of years of history one could get lost exploring the vast canyon. It was a favorite vacation spot for the Reeves family. Well, more or so for Johannes. The arid desert was just perfect at clearing out his sinuses from a harsh spring season. Medicine did only so much for his allergies, and the trip was a fine time to reset his body before getting back to work. He wished he had his wife and kids resistant to seasonal allergies, actually a bit jealous, but was thankful they never had to suffer like him. The grandparents, Mali’s parents, usually stayed a home for the trip. They had been a few times, but didn’t care for the heat. And then Mali’s mom usually killed the mood after a few days, so it was best for everyone if they didn’t come.
Though this trip the Reeves had an addition. John Bradford, school friend of Jynn and Charles. After much begging from the kids, as they wanted an additional change of scenery, Johanness and Mali allowed them to invite John. Now it took some convincing to let Mr. and Mrs. Bradford let John go on such far away trip. Especially since he usually went to and helped on the family farm for part of the summer. But pointing out he’s kept his grades up, boxing and wrestling were going well, kept on top of his chores around the house and his job, and hadn’t gotten into too much trouble; the boy deserved a well-earned break. To say John was excited was an understatement. It had been awhile since he’d been on a road trip, especially one that was out of state and over 10 hours long. He was excited to see the change of scenery and hangout with close friends.
With truck and camper  —borrowed from Johanness’ brother—  packed, they made their way down to Arizona. They stopped at places for some sightseeing and to buy knickknacks, otherwise the trip went well. They found their camping sight. A favorite spot of the Reeves around the South Rim campground. A nice patch of trees that provided a good amount of shade, fairly spaced out from other campers, and one of the trails leading to the canyon wasn’t too far off. They got their camp all set up in short time. The kids decided to pitch tents and enjoy nature while the adults stuck with the camper. Though the kids were more than welcome to crash in the camper or truck if they got tired of nature, but they wanted to rough it.
The next two days were active. Time to hike the canyon and see what it had to offer and see what local activities were available this year. One thing that surprised them as they walked the canyon was that it was cool this year. Especially when they traveled deeper into the canyon. It still got pretty hot from the compressed air and heat radiating from the rocks and ground, but fairly tolerable. Even the park guides that lead them told them were surprised, and rather thankful, for the rather cool weather so far.
For their third day, they all took it easy. Though the weather was cool, the hikes took it out of them and felt like it was best to let the third day be a rest day. There were less demanding activities they could participate in, such as fishing and stargazing. And sleeping in wouldn’t hurt.
Roughly before noon on that lazy day, John crawled out of his tent. Smacking his lips as he got to his feet, he stretched his arms to the sky.
“Ah!”
 But he stretched too far. Something popped in his lower back. Stretching cut short, he double over, rubbing the area where he felt the pain. “Hope that doesn’t bother me all day.” A few minutes passed before he stretched again. Much slower this time. 
“Hm, nice blue sky. Wispy clouds.” As he stretched, he turned his gaze to the sky. The sky was a vibrant blue with faint streaks of clouds painting it. “Wonder how hot it will get today?”
He stretched for a few more minutes before quickly heading to the camper to relieve himself and start the usual morning routines. After all that, as he exited the camper, he let out a loud yawn.
“NooOoOo!” He quickly covered his mouth. He shook his head a few times. “No, no, no. Can’t let the tiredness win. Can’t go back to sleep.” He rubbed his face, trying to get the tiredness out of his eyes. “Need to get my blood pumping.” Perhaps a quick jog around camp would help wake him up. That thought seemed like a good idea to him.
He headed back to his tent and searched for his shoes. Once he had them and put them on, another quick series of stretches to prep his body just in case the job became longer than a quick 10 minutes. But as he was stretching, something caught his ear. Snickering. Stifled snickering at that. 
“Huh?”
He looked around for the source and quickly found it. Charles. Of course it was him. He was sitting at one of the picnic tables and looked to be eating. Well attempting to eat with how hard he was trying not to break out into a laugh. Eyes were closed tightly, with his face contorted into a mad grin. Why was he snickering? He had to be up to nothing good. Yet something compelled John to go over and investigate. Hopefully he wouldn’t regret it.
“What’s got you snickering this early in the morning?” John asked as he reached the table. 
Charles barely opened his eyes to look at him. He shook his head several times, a few snorts broke through the snicker. “Oh!” A small laugh escaped. “You’ll see soon!”
Non-answer. Great. John shook his head. “Ooookaaay…” He had a feeling Charles had done something. That something being questionably silly. He was a prankster at heart. Inherited that from his mother and grandfather. Just what did he go? John hopped he could voice it.
Then something tickled his nose. A hint of a chemical smell that was slowly growing stronger as he stood next to Charles.
“Slightly rotten eggs…? Ammonia…?” That’s what it smelled like to him. Where was the source? He looked Charles up and down. Nothing looked out of place, except that concerning grin. But then he noticed something. Stains on Charles’ shirt and hands. Pink. Well, he wasn’t so sure about the shirt. It was tie-dye, lots of colors and pink was one, but his hands looked like they had some faint pink stains on them. “Hm.”
“Mooorning.” A yawned greeting came from Jynn. Maybe she could be of some help. She was usually good at figuring out her brother’s plans.
“Morning *snort* sis!” Charles was still snickering, even more than before.
“Morning Jy—!” As John turned to wave at her, he paused, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. As Jynn sleepily emerged from her tent, one thing stood out to him in an instant. What was once the bleached blonde to very light brown hair, curtsy of her uncle, was now a garish pink. “J-Jynn...?” His voice trailed off as he watched her head to the camper. 
She gave both of them a lazy wave as she yawned loudly. 
The sight of the pink hair kept John from talking any further. How? He just watched her until she entered the camper.
As soon as the camper door closed, Charles broke.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Such a maddening cackle he could pull off. Probably could pass as a hyena. At least John had his answer to why the prankster had been snickering. But the next question was how?
“Charles…?” John immediately spun around to face him. One arm pointing in the direction of the camper. “Explain!”
“I-I-I,” Charles was choking on his words, “c-c-couldn’t resist!”
“How the heck did you manage to pull that off!?”
“S-S-She was *snort* sleeping like a b-b-brick!”
“Impossible!” He shook his head. “She should have felt something! Smelled something!” He didn’t believe him. “She’s going to kill you as soon as she notices!”
“My sis c-c-can sleep like a b-br-brick somedays!” And the cackling continued. Charles nearly fell out of his seat. “I’m willing to pay that price!”
John shook his head. He couldn’t imagine how bad Jynn’s reaction would be as soon as she noticed the mess. She was already fairly touchy about how her hair looked right now Awhile before the trip, she let her uncle, who was a hair stylist, bleach it. Partially she wanted to experiment, but also lend her uncle a helping hand for his business. Her with very light brown to nearly blond hair was jarring, but she still looked beautiful to him.
Almost on queue, a sharp scream pierced the air, pulling John from his thoughts. His eyes shifted over to the camper. “Oh boy…”
“WHAT THE HELL!?”
Looked like she had noticed her new look.
“CHARLES!”
And she knew exactly who the culprit was.
“Oh boy…” John mumbled again. He immediately backed away from the cackling fiend; eyes fixed on the camper door, waiting for Jynn to emerge. He did not want to get caught in the crossfire and he was not helping Charles one bit. They were close friends, but he knew this was a battle he wanted nothing to do with.
The camper door opened with a loud bang and almost enough force to cause the whole thing to shake. Standing in the entrance was Jynn. Her hair splayed out like the mane of a lion. And her face… Oh, her face. Twisted into a snarl and seething with rage would be an understatement of a description.
“CHARLES!!!”
“My cue *snort* to run.” Still cackling up a storm, Charles quickly clambering from his seat.
“You do that…” John shook his head.
As soon as Charles took off, Jynn gave chase. It was a game of cat and mouse as the two bobbed and weaved through the camp. Hoping on and over tables, running through the bushes, climbing trees. It was a hot mess of a game. A game that John tried his best to avoid.
“I think this will be the worst prank he’s ever done to her.” He mumbled as he watched them. “Wonder who will tire out first? Him or her? Probably him with how fired up Jynn is.”
As his mind wandered, he jumped when that camper door slammed open again.
“What’s goin’ on!?” It was Johanness. Eyes alert. Handgun drawn and at the ready.
“Mr. Reeves!” John had completely forgotten he and his wife were sleeping in the camper.
“Where’s the trouble Jo—” As he was asking that question, he saw exactly what the trouble was. “What in tarnation.” His jaw went slack.
“What’s going on dear?” Mali peered over his shoulder, rubbing her eyes. “Oh.” Then she saw it.
“John.” Johanness looked him. “Boy.” He took in a deep breath, lowered his gun, and sighed as his eyes watched his children run around. Especially that pink blur. “What in the world is goin’ on?”
“One of Charles’ pranks, sir.” John sighed. “He somehow dyed Jynn’s hair pink.”
“Boy don’ what now?”
Mali immediately snorted hearing that. “Pink?” She asked, her voice a pitch higher than usual.
“Yes.” John nodded. “Dyed her hair pink.”
“Good Lord.” Johanness sighed. What was his son thinking?
“GET BACK HERE YOU ANKLEBITER.” Jynn roared. She was no closer to catching her brother, but she wasn’t letting up.
“Oh, goodness.” Johannes sighed. What a mess. He knew he needed to break the two up before someone got hurt. “Jynn! Charles! You two stop this instant!”
“You can catch him, sweety!” Mali on the other hand was rather entertained by it all.
“Hon.” He turned his head towards her. His brow twitching. “You ain’t helping here.”
“What?” She grinned. “Charles has to learn his actions have consequences.~” She sang.
“Dear… dear…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “You are paying any medical bills that happen.”
Johannes did try a few more times to get his children’s attention, even an attempt a grabbing Jynn’s arm, but neither of them listened and Jynn managed to worm her way out of her father’s grip. And Mali was of no help. She was laughing up a storm during the whole mess.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the whole thing had started. He told John to keep an eye on the two before heading back into the camper to get cleaned up and dressed and by the time he came back out, the two were still at it. The energy of youth. He was jealous of that.
He hoped they would tire out soon before something happened. But for now, all he, and anyone else, could do was wait. A perfect time to clean up around camp and get some food made.
“AAAAAAAARGH!”
“GOT YOU!”
“Oh, that’s gotta hurt.” 
A cry of pain signaled the end of the chase. Jynn had finally caught her brother by tackling him into a boulder with a solid thud that made John cringe. She wrestled him to the ground, getting both of his arms in a nasty hold. 
“You anklebiting punk! I’m gonna—”
“Alright! Alright! Get off of him!” Johanness quickly came over to pry Jynn off her brother before any violence could truly start. “Goodness girl you know better.”
“But dad! He—!”
“I know what he dun done.” A quick glare silenced her. “Don’ make breaking his arms the answer.” He shook his head. “He’ll get his punishment.”
“Aah…” A low groan came from Charles as he managed to roll himself over. “You tackle like bear. Ha.” Even though his face was laced with pain, he still had something to say.
“Don’t.” Johanness raised his hand to keep Jynn from pouncing on her brother again. “Boy, you are in so much trouble.”
“Aah.” Charles groaned again. He tried to roll his left shoulder, but something didn’t feel right. He let out a stifled shout as soon as he moved his shoulder. And Johannes noticed an odd lump on the skin move. Like something was trying to poke its way out of Charles’ skin.
“Hold still. Hold still.” Johanness felt around his son’s collarbone. A series of yelps made it clear something wasn’t right. “Tch.” He shook his head. 
“Everything alright?” Mali asked as she and John finally came over.
“Feels like his collarbone is broken.” Johannes sighed. 
“Ouch.” John grimaced. He knew what that felt like.
“Looks like I have a medical bill to pay.” Mali sigh a little but couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Serves him right.” Jynn grumbled.
“Jynn…” Johanness glared at her. “We will have a talk later.”
“Alright, get up sonny.” Johannes helped Charles get to his feet. “Gotta take you to the hospital… now where is the nearest one again?” He grumbled as he scratched his chin.
“I’ll get the map. Should have a few marked on there.” Mali said before heading over to the truck.
“Thanks hon, now you two.” He turned his attention back to his children. Both looked away from him. Jynn was still fuming and Charles was stifling a laugh in-between the pain. 
“What am I gonna do with you two?” He shook his head. How to punish them? That was the biggest question. In a way, they already had enough to deal with. Charles earned the consequences of his actions with a broken collarbone. Depending on how bad it was, it would keep him from doing some activities and eventually put a damper on his mood for this trip. May even cut the trip short. And then Jynn. Now, her hair was this stark pink. Probably keeping her from cutting it for a few weeks would be punishment enough. But he had to discuss things with his wife before judgement could be made.
“We may be in luck!” Mali came back with map in hand and a brochure. “We need to update our map to match the brochure, but there’s a Clinic that offers urgent care nearby. Maybe about 10 minutes from where we are.”
“Really? Let me see that.” He took the brochure from her and read it and then looked at the map. “Huh. Perfect.” He handed it back to her. “Okay Charles, get your butt in the truck.” He pointed at the truck. Charles quickly complied. “When we get back,” he turned and looked at Jynn, “a talk will be had young lady. Now behave and listen to your mother.”
Jynn grumbled under her breath. “Yes, dad.”
With that, Johannes headed back into the camper to fetch his wallet and keys. As that door to the truck opened and closed, and started to pull off shortly, Johannes was already ripping into Charles for his idiotic prank.
“Now Jynny!” Mali laid a heavy hand on Jynn’s head. Her fist curled, gripping a chunk of her daughter’s hair. “Let’s see if we can wash out some of this mess!”
“Eck! Ma!” Jynn grabbed at her mom’s hand. Before she knew it, she was being dragged towards the camper. 
“Boy…” John shook his head at everything that transpired. Fine notes on how crazy some of Charles’ future pranks might become and him making a strong mental note of not angering Jynn. He followed them to the camper. Half mildly curious if her mother could save her hair, and then he was hungry for some food.
———————
“And that’s the story of the pink hair. A bit short, but that’s what happened.” Central ended the story. “Still wondering how he pulled it off… you couldn’t have been that tired.”
“Probably the hikes took it out of me.” The Commander shrugged. “Annoyed I got stuck with that look for four weeks before they let me cut a chunk of it off,” she ran her fingers through her hair,“but I did break my brother’s collarbone.” The Commander shook her head. It was a fair punishment. “Held it against my brother for the longest.”
“Don’t think I blame ya for doing that.” Trish shook her head. “I’d be angry if any of my cousins did that to me.” 
“Wow, heh.” Esper chuckled. “To be a fly on the wall when that happened.”
“Hm.” Corvo chuckled. There was a gleam in his eyes as he eyed Central and the Commander. “Explains some things a bit more for me.” He started to nudge Central as he sipped on his cider. “Makes some interests of yours clearer.”
“Knock it off, Corvo.” Central rolled his eyes, though those cheeks of were turning red. That got some snickers going and made Jynn curious again. Some questions to ask him later.
“So how badly did you break your bro’s collarbone?” Leo asked. “Since from the sounds of it ya tackled him pretty hard.”
“Actually, not too badly. He just had to wear a sling for 6 weeks or so.” The Commander answered. “He was absolutely miserable, and I savored every moment of his misery.”
“Tch. Nice.” Leo clapped.  “Probably made him think twice on no pulling that again.”
“Yeah, he didn’t touch my hair ever again. Other things?” She shook her head and laughed. “He still liked to push buttons…. I miss that… and him.” 
“Now, Commander.” Esper spoke up. “Think you’ll ever let your hair be dyed that color again?” She asked with a devious grin. Those fingers of hers were framing the Commander’s face again. “Think it would look great on you. Maybe a few streaks here and there, like me, instead of ya whole head being pink.”
“Not a chance.” The Commander’s voice dropped an octave as she narrowed her eyes. A spark of blue shot off of her.“And if anyone of you dare think about trying to do that to me, you’ll be wishing you we’re in the Elders hands.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Several people at the table said that. Not a risk worth taking. The Commander was serious about her punishments. And now she was getting better with her psionics? Best not to push one’s luck.
“Just think about it.” But Esper still had a grin on her face.
“Esper. No.”
“Soooo!” Symon suddenly spoke up.
“Hey! AH!”
“You have any other stories you two can share with us?”
In one swift move, Symon knocked Esper’s feet off the table, and since she was already leaning back in her chair pretty far, she fully tipped over and crashed to the floor. Laughter erupted in the room as usual, and even more so when Esper sent Psymon flying into the ceiling with her psionics.
“Smooth.” The Commander shook her head but chuckled. There was always someone in the group that would try to quickly diffuse a situation. “Very smooth.”
You have any other stories you two can share with us?
More stories to tell? Looked like a can of worms had been opened that wouldn’t be sealed anytime soon. “Stories? Stories?” She mumbled under her breath as she rubbed her chin. What could she tell them? Perhaps a story to get back at Central for blabbering? No, too obvious. She would save that for another time. Maybe some stories about the old days. Some stories about interesting personnel. A few had been on her mind as of late.
A yelp and a crash caught her attention. Symon managed to get out of Esper’s psionic grip but didn’t account for that fact he would fall. The two soon squabbled and a few crew mates were already trying to pry them apart. Have to love the sibling-like bond.
“Yeah, I believe I have some I can tell.” She finally spoke, grabbing everyone’s attention. “I’ll save more childhood stories for later…” She shot a glare at Central.
“Sorry.” He sheepishly apologized.
“So!” She clasped her hands. “I’ll share some stories about the old XCOM and interesting personnel.”
“Interesting personnel?” Several asked. That really caught everyone’s attention. “More interesting than us?” 
“The peanut gallery? Ragtag band of misfits?” Shay snickered, though she knew the answer.
“What she said.” Leo nodded.
“Yep.” She nodded. “Some with questionable ethics I constantly had to keep a tight leash on… Moria we could use you right now, but I worry what antics you would get into.” She sighed for a moment. Memories of the old days.
“Oh! The German doctor lady you guys had. We’ve heard a few things about her.” Trish said. “Central mentioned how she would do some tests without authorization.”
“Yes. Dr. Moria Vahlen. Brilliant mind, but needs a leash. Starts testing for psionics before I knew it, half our soldiers had chronic migraines for a few months!” She shook her head. She still couldn’t believe she did that. “And don’t get me started when the Gene Modding program began. A little too eager for that too, but thankful she had sense to set limits on herself.”
“Yeesh! Glad the Docs Tygan, Kosh, Uri, Quinn, and the others ain’t like that.” Leo just shuddered at the thought of being tested without his knowledge. 
“Still wouldn’t let Tygan do surgery on me with how he dissects those corpses.” Rickers joked. 
“With you there, mate.”
“Besides Vahlen, there were some others wrapped in mystery that had me stumped when they were recruited. “ The Commander had others on her mind. ”Actually one still has me stumped to this day.” 
“Oh, your thinking of him aren’t you.” Central immediately knew who she was talking about.
“Him?” Again, some grew curious.
“He’s a special case. Very special case. Probably the most interesting recruitment out of all our soldiers.” She closed her eyes and chuckled. “Who would have thought a criminal would have some sense to get in contact with off to hand off an alien artifact his bosses were busy fighting over.”
“Ah, that guy.” Corvo darkly chuckled. He would have loved to meet him. “You guys will like this story.”
“A criminal?” Someone asked.
“Triad to be clear.” She noticed a few confused faces. Organized crime probably didn’t exist in the same capacity with ADVENT in charge. “Chinese Old World crime syndicate.” 
“And you let this dude join? Just cause he had some alien artifact.”
“Didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.” She sighed.
“Had to play nice with the Council,” Central spoke up, “and he was willing to work for us. Never did say if he was doing it for the Earth or to clear his questionable past.”
“Probably both.” She always had a feeling it was a mixture of both. “Soon as everything got cleared, he started putting in some work. Still question why the hell a man like him, and a man his age, knew the ins and outs of explosives and demolition work so well. And heavy weapons.”
“Wait.” Leo raised his hands. “How old was the bloke?”
The Commander and Central looked at each other. “Um… somewhere in his 50s?”
“Mid 50s…I think.” Central rubbed his chin. “I remember he had silver hair and still had a spring in his step. Got more of a spring when he got cleared for Gene Modification when we started fully implementing that.”
“Huh. Sounds like an interesting fella.” 
“Heard you say something about demolitions?” Blake spoke up. 
“Yeah, demolitions. Of course you would take interest.” The Commander shook her head.
“Guilty as charge.” He just smiled.
 “He became a heavy specialist of all things. Didn’t need much training on how to handle an LMG nor a rocket launcher… which still irks me.…” Her brow twitched just remembering how that training phase went. He had a lot of weapons knowledge that both surprised and impressed her. But she still questioned why he chose the route of heavy weapons. “Makes me question if he did a lot of weapons smuggling and testing.”
“Really interesting fella.” Leo repeated.
“So!” Esper slammed a hand on the table, as her other arm was occupied with having Symon in a firm choke hold. “Ya, gonna start telling us the story of what?”
“Chomping at the bit to know fella’s name.” Leo was on the edge of his seat, tapping his hands on the table several times. “Especially since chrome dome over there knows.” Corvo chuckled.
“And got me interesting the demolitions.” Blake smiled.
“Alright! Alright! Y’all are an impatient bunch.” She shook her head and laughed. She took a moment to crack her fingers before rubbing her hands together. Hopefully all hear memories were still strong. “Let me tell you guys all about Shaojie Zhang.”
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chickenbonevfx · 3 years
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Halston 2021 Emmy Award Nominations
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Netflix’s limited series Halston, staring Ewan McGregor as the ambitious and complex fashion icon from Emmy winner Ryan Murphy earned 5 Primetime Emmy Award nominations including Best Actor. We are thrilled to have contributed to this exceptional production. Congrats to all the nominees! Here is the list of nominations:
Outstanding Production Design For A Narrative Period Or Fantasy Program (One Hour Or More) - 2021
NOMINEE: Mark Ricker, Production Designer Nithya Shrinivasan, Art Director Cherish M. Hale, Set Decorator
Outstanding Period Costumes - 2021
NOMINEE: Halston "Versailles" Jeriana San Juan, Costume Designer Catherine Crabtree, Assistant Costume Designer Cailey Breneman, Assistant Costume Designer Anne Newton-Harding, Costume Supervisor
Outstanding Period And/Or Character Makeup (Non-Prosthetic) - 2021
NOMINEE: Halston "Versailles" Patricia Regan, Department Head Makeup Artist Claus Lulla, Key Makeup Artist Margot Boccia, Makeup Artist Joseph A. Campayno, Makeup Artist
Outstanding Lead Actor In A Limited Or Anthology Series Or Movie - 2021
NOMINEE: Ewan McGregor, as Halston
Outstanding Music Supervision - 2021
NOMINEE: Halston "The Party's Over" Amanda Krieg Thomas, Music Supervisor Alexis Martin Woodall, Music Supervisor Ryan Murphy, Music Supervisor
About Chicken Bone FX
Chicken Bone FX is one of the finest boutique VFX facilities globally employing up to 80 artists known for 2D technical prowess, highly photoreal FX and hard surfaces integration, and creative global workflow.  The company has grown steadily over 10 years and is attached to some of the industry’s highest-profile series such as Westworld, The Walking Dead, Legion, Krypton, and Godless as well as features like The Highwaymen, To All The Boys 2, and The Kissing Booth 2.  CBFX is TPN certified with artist pools in regions all over the world allowing for versatile pricing in a variety of tax incentive regions plus virtual workforce and technology scalability based on project demand.
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boardchairman-blog · 4 years
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Oscar Predictions- 2021
Best Picture
The Father
Mank
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Minari
Nomadland
One Night in Miami
Promising Young Woman
Sound of Metal
The Trial of the Chicago 7
Best Director
Lee Isaac Chung- Minari
Emerald Fennell- Promising Young Woman
David Fincher- Mank
Darius Marder- Sound of Metal
Chloé Zhao- Nomadland
Best Actor
Riz Ahmed- Sound of Metal
Chadwick Boseman- Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Anthony Hopkins- The Father
Tahar Rahim- The Mauritanian 
Steven Yeun- Minari
Best Actress
Viola Davis- Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Andra Day- The United States vs. Billie Holiday
Vanessa Kirby- Pieces of a Woman
Frances McDormand- Nomadland
Carey Mulligan- Promising Young Woman
Best Supporting Actress
Maria Bakalova- Borat Subsequent Moviefilm
Olivia Colman- The Father
Jodie Foster- The Mauritanian
Amanda Seyfried- Mank
Yeo-jeong Yoon- Minari
Best Supporting Actor
Sacha Baron Cohen- The Trial of the Chicago 7
Chadwick Boseman- Da 5 Bloods
Daniel Kaluuya- Judas and the Black Messiah
Leslie Odom, Jr.- One Night in Miami
Paul Raci- Sound of Metal
Best Original Screenplay
Mank- Jack Fincher
Minari- Lee Isaac Chung
Promising Young Woman- Emerald Fennell
Sound of Metal- Darius Marder & Abraham Marder and Derek Cianfrance
The Trial of the Chicago 7- Aaron Sorkin
Best Adapted Screenplay
Borat Subsequent Moviefilm- Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Swimer, Peter Baynham, Erica Rivinoja, Dan Mazer, Jena Friedman, Lee Kern & Nina Pedrad
The Father- Florian Zeller and Christopher Hampton
News of the World-  Paul Greengrass and Luke Davies
Nomadland- Chloé Zhao
One Night in Miami- Kemp Powers
Best Animated Feature
The Croods: A New Age
Onward
Over the Moon
Soul
Wolfwalkers
Best Documentary Feature
Boys State
Collective
Crip Camp
Time
Welcome to Chechnya 
Best International Feature Film
Another Round (Denmark)
Collective (Romania)
Dear Comrades! (Russia)
Quo Vadis, Aida? (Bosnia and Herzegovina)
Two of Us (France)
Best Original Score
Mank- Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
The Midnight Sky- Alexandre Desplat
Minari- Emile Mosseri
News of the World- James Newton Howard
Soul- Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross and Jon Batiste
Best Original Song
“Fight for You” from Judas and the Black Messiah
“Husavik (My Hometown)” from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga
“Io sì (Seen)” from The Life Ahead
“Speak Now” from One Night in Miami
“Turntables” from All In: The Life for Democracy
Best Cinematography
Sean Bobbitt- Judas and the Black Messiah
Erik Messerschmidt- Mank
Phedon Papamichael- The Trial of the Chicago 7
Joshua James Richards- Nomadland
Darius Wolski- News of the World
Best Film Editing
Alan Baumgarten- The Trial of the Chicago 7
Kirk Baxter- Mank
Mikkel E.G. Nielsen- Sound of Metal
Frédéric Thoraval- Promising Young Woman
Chloé Zhao- Nomadland
Best Costume Design
Alexandra Byrne- Emma.
Bina Daigeler- Mulan
Susan Lyall- The Trial of the Chicago 7
Ann Roth- Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Trish Summerville- Mank
Best Production Design
Mank- Donald Graham Burt and Jan Pascale
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom- Mark Ricker and Karen O'Hara, Diana Stoughton
The Midnight Sky- Jim Bissell and Maudie Andrews, John Bush
News of the World- David Crank and Elizabeth Keenan
Tenet-  Nathan Crowley and Kathy Lucas
Best Sound
Mank
News of the World
Soul
Sound of Metal
Tenet
Best Makeup and Hairstyling
Birds of Prey
Hillbilly Elegy
Mank
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Pinocchio
Best Visual Effects
Mank
The Midnight Sky
The One and Only Ivan
Tenet
Welcome to Chechnya
Overall Nominations
Mank: 12
Sound of Metal: 7
Ma Rainey's Black Bottom: 6
Minari: 6
Nomadland: 6
The Trial of the Chicago 7: 6
Promising Young Woman: 5
The Father: 4
News of the World: 5
One Night in Miami: 4
Judas and the Black Messiah: 3
The Midnight Sky: 3
Soul: 3
Tenet: 3
Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: 2
Collective: 2
The Mauritanian: 2
Welcome to Chechnya: 2
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extrabeurre · 4 years
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MANK part en tête d’une course aux Oscars bien bizarre
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Je me suis réveillé tantôt, j'ai parti la cafetière, puis en checkant Twitter, je me suis dit: "Ah oui, c'est vrai, les nominations des Oscars ont été dévoilées." 
 C’est la première année depuis une éternité où je ne suis pas au poste au moment où les nominations des Oscars sont annoncées. Je l’ai déjà dit, mais je suis assez désinteressé cette année par cette course aux remises de prix où sont honorés des films que presque personne n’a pu voir sur grand écran, pandémie oblige. 
Oui, il y a d’excellents films en lice, comme Nomadland, Sound of Metal et Promising Young Woman. Il y en a aussi que je vais essayer de voir prochainement, Minari notamment. Mais je n’ai pas l’impression qu’il y ait de gros titres qui ont enflammé la planète cinéma comme par exemple Parasite, Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood ou même le divisif Joker l’an dernier.
J’ai vu Mank de David Fincher sur Netflix, j’ai trouvé ça correct, mais c’est loin d’être un film marquant pour moi. Je reviens quand même sur Nomadland, un de mes préférés de 2020 (même s’il ne sortira techniquement pas en salle au Québec avant avril 2021) - ce sera un bon moment de voir Chloé Zhao probablement remporter l’Oscar de la Meilleure réalisation. Il y a plein d’actrices et d’acteurs talentueux qui sont en nomination. Je serais content que Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross soient récompensés pour la musique de Soul. Je trouve ça plate que TENET de Christopher Nolan ait presque été complètement ignoré.
Mais dans l’ensemble, je suis assez indifférent face à tout ça. Je vais sûrement regarder le gala quand même, en espérant que ce ne soit pas un désastre avec des fenêtres Zoom comme les Golden Globes...
Best motion picture of the year
“The Father” David Parfitt, Jean-Louis Livi and Philippe Carcassonne, Producers
“Judas and the Black Messiah” Shaka King, Charles D. King and Ryan Coogler, Producers
“Mank” Ceán Chaffin, Eric Roth and Douglas Urbanski, Producers
“Minari” Christina Oh, Producer
“Nomadland” Frances McDormand, Peter Spears, Mollye Asher, Dan Janvey and Chloé Zhao, Producers
“Promising Young Woman” Ben Browning, Ashley Fox, Emerald Fennell and Josey McNamara, Producers
“Sound of Metal” Bert Hamelinck and Sacha Ben Harroche, Producers
“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Marc Platt and Stuart Besser, Producers
Achievement in directing
“Another Round” Thomas Vinterberg
“Mank” David Fincher
“Minari” Lee Isaac Chung
“Nomadland” Chloé Zhao
“Promising Young Woman” Emerald Fennell
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Riz Ahmed in “Sound of Metal”
Chadwick Boseman in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”
Anthony Hopkins in “The Father”
Gary Oldman in “Mank”
Steven Yeun in “Minari”
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Sacha Baron Cohen in “The Trial of the Chicago 7”
Daniel Kaluuya in “Judas and the Black Messiah”
Leslie Odom, Jr. in “One Night in Miami…”
Paul Raci in “Sound of Metal”
Lakeith Stanfield in “Judas and the Black Messiah”
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Viola Davis in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”
Andra Day in “The United States vs. Billie Holiday”
Vanessa Kirby in “Pieces of a Woman”
Frances McDormand in “Nomadland”
Carey Mulligan in “Promising Young Woman”
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Maria Bakalova in “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan”
Glenn Close in “Hillbilly Elegy”
Olivia Colman in “The Father”
Amanda Seyfried in “Mank”
Yuh-Jung Youn in “Minari”
Adapted screenplay
“Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” Screenplay by Sacha Baron Cohen & Anthony Hines & Dan Swimer & Peter Baynham & Erica Rivinoja & Dan Mazer & Jena Friedman & Lee Kern; Story by Sacha Baron Cohen & Anthony Hines & Dan Swimer & Nina Pedrad
“The Father” Screenplay by Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller
“Nomadland” Written for the screen by Chloé Zhao
“One Night in Miami…” Screenplay by Kemp Powers
“The White Tigers” Written for the screen by Ramin Bahrani
Original screenplay
“Judas and the Black Messiah” Screenplay by Will Berson & Shaka King; Story by Will Berson & Shaka King and Kenny Lucas & Keith Lucas
“Minari” Written by Lee Isaac Chung
“Promising Young Woman” Written by Emerald Fennell
“Sound of Metal” Screenplay by Darius Marder & Abraham Marder; Story by Darius Marder & Derek Cianfrance
“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Written by Aaron Sorkin
Best international feature film of the year
“Another Round” Denmark
“Better Days” Hong Kong
“Collective” Romania
“The Man Who Sold His Skin” Tunisia
“Quo Vadis, Aida?” Bosnia and Herzegovina
Best animated feature film of the year
“Onward” Dan Scanlon and Kori Rae
“Over the Moon” Glen Keane, Gennie Rim and Peilin Chou
“A Shaun the Sheep Movie: Farmageddon” Richard Phelan, Will Becher and Paul Kewley
“Soul” Pete Docter and Dana Murray
“Wolfwalkers” Tomm Moore, Ross Stewart, Paul Young and Stéphan Roelants
Best documentary feature
“Collective” Alexander Nanau and Bianca Oana
“Crip Camp” Nicole Newnham, Jim LeBrecht and Sara Bolder
“The Mole Agent” Maite Alberdi and Marcela Santibáñez
“My Octopus Teacher” Pippa Ehrlich, James Reed and Craig Foster
“Time” Garrett Bradley, Lauren Domino and Kellen Quinn
Achievement in cinematography
“Judas and the Black Messiah” Sean Bobbitt
“Mank” Erik Messerschmidt
“News of the World” Dariusz Wolski
“Nomadland” Joshua James Richards
“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Phedon Papamichael
Achievement in film editing
“The Father” Yorgos Lamprinos
“Nomadland” Chloé Zhao
“Promising Young Woman” Frédéric Thoraval
“Sound of Metal” Mikkel E. G. Nielsen
“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Alan Baumgarten
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
“Da 5 Bloods” Terence Blanchard
“Mank” Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross
“Minari” Emile Mosseri
“News of the World” James Newton Howard
“Soul” Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross and Jon Batiste
Achievement in production design
“The Father” Production Design: Peter Francis; Set Decoration: Cathy Featherstone
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Production Design: Mark Ricker; Set Decoration: Karen O’Hara and Diana Stoughton
“Mank” Production Design: Donald Graham Burt; Set Decoration: Jan Pascale
“News of the World” Production Design: David Crank; Set Decoration: Elizabeth Keenan
“Tenet” Production Design: Nathan Crowley; Set Decoration: Kathy Lucas
Achievement in costume design
“Emma” Alexandra Byrne
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Ann Roth
“Mank” Trish Summerville
“Mulan” Bina Daigeler
“Pinocchio” Massimo Cantini Parrini
Achievement in sound
“Greyhound” Warren Shaw, Michael Minkler, Beau Borders and David Wyman
“Mank” Ren Klyce, Jeremy Molod, David Parker, Nathan Nance and Drew Kunin
“News of the World” Oliver Tarney, Mike Prestwood Smith, William Miller and John Pritchett
“Soul” Ren Klyce, Coya Elliott and David Parker
“Sound of Metal” Nicolas Becker, Jaime Baksht, Michelle Couttolenc, Carlos Cortés and Phillip Bladh
Achievement in makeup and hairstyling
“Emma” Marese Langan, Laura Allen and Claudia Stolze
“Hillbilly Elegy” Eryn Krueger Mekash, Matthew Mungle and Patricia Dehaney
“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal and Jamika Wilson
“Mank” Gigi Williams, Kimberley Spiteri and Colleen LaBaff
“Pinocchio” Mark Coulier, Dalia Colli and Francesco Pegoretti
Achievement in visual effects
“Love and Monsters” Matt Sloan, Genevieve Camilleri, Matt Everitt and Brian Cox
“The Midnight Sky” Matthew Kasmir, Christopher Lawrence, Max Solomon and David Watkins
“Mulan” Sean Faden, Anders Langlands, Seth Maury and Steve Ingram
“The One and Only Ivan” Nick Davis, Greg Fisher, Ben Jones and Santiago Colomo Martinez
“Tenet” Andrew Jackson, David Lee, Andrew Lockley and Scott Fisher
Best documentary short film
“Colette” Anthony Giacchino and Alice Doyard
“A Concerto Is a Conversation” Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers
“Do Not Split” Anders Hammer and Charlotte Cook
“Hunger Ward” Skye Fitzgerald and Michael Scheuerman
“A Love Song for Latasha” Sophia Nahli Allison and Janice Duncan
Best animated short film
“Burrow” Madeline Sharafian and Michael Capbarat
“Genius Loci” Adrien Mérigeau and Amaury Ovise
“If Anything Happens I Love You” Will McCormack and Michael Govier
“Opera” Erick Oh
“Yes-People” Gísli Darri Halldórsson and Arnar Gunnarsson
Best live action short film
“Feeling Through” Doug Roland and Susan Ruzenski
“The Letter Room” Elvira Lind and Sofia Sondervan
“The Present” Farah Nabulsi
“Two Distant Strangers” Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe
“White Eye” Tomer Shushan and Shira Hochman
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
“Fight For You” from “Judas and the Black Messiah” Music by H.E.R. and Dernst Emile II; Lyric by H.E.R. and Tiara Thomas
“Hear My Voice” from “The Trial of the Chicago 7” Music by Daniel Pemberton; Lyric by Daniel Pemberton and Celeste Waite
“Husavik” from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” Music and Lyric by Savan Kotecha, Fat Max Gsus and Rickard Göransson
“Io Sì (Seen)” from “The Life Ahead (La Vita Davanti a Se)” Music by Diane Warren; Lyric by Diane Warren and Laura Pausini
“Speak Now” from “One Night in Miami…” Music and Lyric by Leslie Odom, Jr. and Sam Ashworth
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