#screenplay safe
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AI in the Film Production process...No.
In case anyone worries if AI will replace the storyboardartist - nope. I tried the paid service Boords and after feeding my script into it - the results were abysmal.
*** INT. SHOWER - UNKNOWN Water taps small white tiles and sluices over curled toes on its way to the drain. ***
I tried fixing the mess, board by board, with elementary-school level prompts. A true exercise in frustration after about ten tries. I even went Cro Magnon on it - still didn't help:
INT. SHOWER - UNKNOWN Water taps small white tiles and sluices over curled toes on its way to the drain.
I tried fixing the mess I got, board by board, with elementary-school level prompts. A true exercise in frustration after about ten tries. I even went Cro Magnon simple sentences - still didn't help:
I gave up after that. This is how it looked with in Microsoft's AI and an initial prompt taken from my script.
Close - but no cigar. I got no curled toes, no sluicing water - but its first go was was superior to any of the ten attempts made at Boords.
#AI#storyboarding#screenwriting#scripting#screenplay#AI storyboards#wtf#no reall like wtf#writeblr#storyboard artists are safe#creative writing
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and don't get me wrong, that's the nature of their codpendency under this extreme pressure.
what i'm trying to say here is that they're both doing things to each other to keep themselves mentally and emotionally afloat, which in turn is what ends up keeping each other afloat.
reading the screenplay, i’ve noticed that when lawrence feels powerless or cornered in reaction to adam’s actions or words, he lashes out specifically by targeting adam’s vulnerabilities.
adam explains he wanted to become a vet but was discouraged by the school requirements, and in fact reveals he never finished high school (not explicit, only implied, right before he pivots to a distraction and talks about the corpse not having future prospects, to crack a joke), but lawrence does try to comfort him by telling him "it's never too late" to instill a bit of hope in adam. and then he becomes suspicious of adam's avoidant fidgeting with the photo over the edge of the tub, he feels powerless and he re-asserts that power by targeting a vulnerability. he picks on adam's intelligence. he calls him stupid.
similarly (and, although this is strictly part of solving this puzzle, i'm sure lawrence does experience some sympathy here), lawrence decides to ask adam why the tape referenced adam wanting to die. he asks him why he felt suicidal. adam once again seems reluctant to explicitly explain himself. instead, he continues using implication to avoid directly addressing his vulnerability, which is almost like painting a target around the big, soft, weak spot in the center of his references to his sensitivities, something that lawrence zeros in on each time he lashes out at adam. once again, adam tells lawrence he feels worthless (in so many words) and lawrence, angry about what he's learned about adam's covert documentation of his infidelity, calls him worthless (in so many words). a gutterfeeder, a bottomfeeder.
when he's cornered, lawrence resorts to wounding him, perhaps because he wants to have control over the situation and he wants adam to know he's in control.
and of course adam wants for larry to be the calm one, the one who knows what he's doing (because he sure isn't), he wants him to get both of them out. even despite adam's own outbursts. when he says, "fuck thinking, don't you wanna scream?!" it's almost like he's testing how stable lawrence is. this guy he knows he was tasked with stalking and photographing, who has a stern and calm and resolute demeanor, something he's already latched onto ("despite himself, lawrence's stern, even tone has the effect of settling adam a little," "are you alright?" "are you injured?" "what's your name?"). something adam is aware enough of to protect when he hides the hostage photo of larry's wife and daughter. not only because he still holds suspicion of lawrence's role in this ordeal or his motives, but because he can't lose that stability lawrence provides him.
the way that these two trust and distrust, the way that their codependency relies on a dynamic of protecting and soothing, it just drives me fucking insane.
#you know it's really interesting because i really truly haven't encountered trap'ees that have this level of codependency#or maybe it's the nature of it#lawrence as both a doctor and a father has this mastered control of his emotions (or so he thinks)#i mean it's a practiced thing#he clearly has impulse struggles given his affair but he managed to restrain himself#but with his daughter and wife in danger... i mean. adam kept that from him because he needed lawrence to be stable#and lawrence provoked adam because he knew he was able to keep him under control#sort of walking him up to the edge and back again safely#but it's important to understand that they're both controlling each other#AND obviously that's not entirely purposeful... it's not intentional necessarily#they're just... trapped#also prevtags: adam's kindness is actually pretty typical from what we know#especially in the screenplay. i mean he wanted to be a vet. he fed a stray cat. he has a lot of compassion in him#even if he may not be the smoothest communicator with other people (but also when he takes pictures of mandy in that deleted scene? he seem#very charming)#chainshipping#saw franchise#i hope lakey dies
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...i found both someone complaining about how The Eyre Affair isn't like... a self-insert romance+some other stuff about it, and someone complaining (justly in my view) about that complaint in the Jasper Fforde tag the other day and now it's made me think about first or second person narration and how i don't generally interpret them in a self-insert way...
Anyway! vaguely related to self-insert but ...related to a mature fic... anecdote in the tags...
#so I saw CNC in a fic summary for Palpatine/reader (I did not read the fic)#but despite occurring with a slash and elaboration making clear what was meant#my brain chose to interpret it as Computer Numeric Control which I think is mostly like... machining stuff#(and which is linked with algorithmically generated Western screenplays in my head thanks to Advent of Computing)#consensually nonconsensual Computer numeric control...#which I think is a plot for either Hymie GetSmart or Charles/Sir of that miserable mill#but yes I'm already subjecting Sidious to alkylation unit safety of course he gets to learn more about machining with me#me: if people don't find you handsome they should at least find you informed about computer numeric control#Palpatine: what! the! fuck!#putting the not safe into not safe for work in TWO senses
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I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."
I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.
How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)
You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.
Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.
If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)
The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)
And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)
The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏
Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊
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If you're a Moby Dick fan can I recommend reading Ray Bradbury's Moby Dick retelling, "Leviathan 99" it's so amazingly weird and to my eyes gay and it's insane that no one seems to have heard of it
Ray Bradbury wrote two separate books about Moby Dick and he also wrote the screenplay for the 1956 movie in 8 hours. So I think it’s safe to say Ray was also a victim of the moby dickening
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Rewatching Battle of the Gods and mAN. If you're ever scrolling my dbTag and going 'Sketches, what do you mean Toei does the same plot but completely changes the story, that makes no sense.' I'm talking about Character-Driven Storytelling. And the difference between Toriyama's Character-Driven Story and Toei's Plot-Driven Story is Most Glaring in comparing Super's movies and the anime retellings of Super's movies, because the screenplays for the last four movies were written by Toriyama, and obviously the show was not.
I saw BotG back first when it came out, before the anime was released, and The Point Of It was that it was the very first Dragon Ball story in which Goku failed and Vegeta was left in the position of The Protagonist, due to all of the growth he experienced in DBZ (Beerus in this movie takes Goku down immediately, and does not compliment him at all. King Kai, in this movie, has nothing rude to say about Vegeta and just warns him not to engage with Beerus because Goku just tried and lost, which freaks Vegeta out). So even while Goku still is the guy who gets to fight Beerus in the end, the majority of the movie is about Vegeta's efforts to not have a fight at all.
Like this is the Whole Thesis of Super (as Toriyama wrote it). Vegeta is being handed the mantle of Earth's Guardian (because as Piccolo points out later, he was a Prince and is becoming nostalgic as he gets older (as so many do), so his role is slowly coming full circle back to a proud inherited leadership position, which Goku has no interest in.)
You may have seen me complain about Vegeta and Bulma's dynamic being weird and bad in the anime despite them having been married for ~12 years by this point.
That's because the reason for and the dialogue from when Vegeta gets to the party was completely revised. In the show, Vegeta goes because Bulma yelled at him.
In the movie, he is still wearing his armor because he left training and went straight to the party with the Express Purpose of keeping everyone safe. Bulma not only knew Vegeta was training and expected would be there eventually, but also immediately recognizes something is wrong when he does finally arrive, because he is still wearing his armor, and she notes that him being broody like this is, by this point, unusual.
His behavior is, of course, is because he because he is trying to sense Beerus -- who he has just been told would destroy the Earth if anyone engaged with him. The game of the whole movie becomes Vegeta acting Completely Insane and throwing his pride aside to make sure everyone is safe, because protecting Earth and his family has become his top priority.
His frustration isn't because he finds her or any of the Z Fighters annoying. It's because he is trying to manage a problem that he can't tell anyone about, for fear that the other fighters will get involved and try and solve the problem -- especially if they learn this man's harmed Goku -- and Vegeta knows their good intentions will only make matters worse.
His outburst is because Bulma is (two glasses of champagne into her day and) trying to talk to him while he's trying to concentrate on locating this massive incoming threat he can't find. And what's more is that his raising his voice to Bulma is a shock to everyone.
Including Bulma.
Because the point is he is not normally like this.
And even though Vegeta can't sense Beerus' ki, he knows when Beerus is present, because he is suddenly terrified.
And then the gag becomes that Beerus speaks to Vegeta only, and Vegeta doesn't yet remember exactly who Beerus is or what he looks like, so he looks Completely Insane trying to find him,
When Vegeta does finally find Beerus, he immediately remembers who he is and treats him with the utmost respect, because he understands how Heirarchy works (this is completely changed in the anime, and turned into an attempted fight, for some reason).
Because he will not tell anybody what's going on, who Beerus is, or why he's there, because the risk is JUST too high, he just plays along with Bulma's assumption that they're friends of his. Which means Bulma (who is absolutely plastered) happily invites them to come party with everyone, leaving Vegeta the incredibly comedic task of running context-free interference for the universe's most temperamental god while the most fight-minded people on the planet are getting drunk.
Toei loves pretending Vegeta can't interact with people in a normal way, but Toriyama loved reminding the class that Vegeta is a seasoned professional with 25+ years in a semi-corporate military force who can and regularly does behave as one.
The whole bit of this arc is Vegeta being so scared of his planet and his family being destroyed (again) that he is willing to sacrifice his pride to herd a cat, because Dragon Ball has always been a comedy and Toei is so bad at remembering it's a comedy
I will also die mad that in the anime Gotenks fights first, when in the movie Trunks (as he has before) got involved when he saw Beerus beat his dad, and Vegeta begged him not to fight. Gotenks getting spanked (literally and figuratively) by Beerus is also what got Vegeta back on his feet.
Then there's this (y'all when I tell you someone at Toei fucking hates Vegeta,,)
For context, in the anime Beerus compliments Goku and insults Vegeta. Surprisingly no one, in the movie it is The Opposite. Beerus never says a bad word about Vegeta (and doesn't say anything to Goku after their first fight), and compliments his fighting instincts. And that's before Bulma gets hit.
In the anime, Vegeta can't do anything to Beerus, who drags him for like two minutes straight. Then he walks away from Vegeta, who cannot bring himself to stand, and takes his aim.
In the movie, Vegeta gets back up when Gotenks is knocked down, compliments Beerus, and accepts that the gap is too wide between them. Beerus decides it's time to be done here and charges directly at Vegeta.
Vegeta does not defend himself, does not dodge, does not flinch, and does not break eye contact. Then he says it might be an honor to be killed by Beerus (complimenting Beerus) (where in the anime he says it might be a proud way to go (complimenting himself)), and is ready to die on his feet.
(note: He doesn't say anything about pride, because his actions speak for him, as is very commonly the case with Toriyama's Vegeta, whose pride is loudest in his quiet confidence, not in his insecure outbursts).
The other major difference I absolutely hate in the anime is that for some reason they decided Beerus hitting Bulma was a long, drawn out, dramatic thing.
In the anime almost a full minute passes between her hitting him and him hitting her back. She hits him first, then lectures him, then the rest of that time is spent cutting between Beerus winding up and Vegeta reacting to him winding up, despite The Rest of the Party standing Right There and anyone could've easily pulled her away (Piccolo, for example, is unharmed and standing, and is literally like ten feet from where it happens. He has expanding limbs. Non-Issue of Moving Bulma).
NO. [spray bottle sounds] BAD WRITING.
The point of that moment, in the movie, is that it's a 'blink and you'll miss it' moment. THREE SECONDS pass between the moment she strikes Beerus and the moment he hits back. Vegeta only has time to be shocked that Bulma slapped him, because Beerus' rebuttal happens So Quickly, absolutely no one could've reacted fast enough to stop it. And even if it had been more drawn out -- because Vegeta had Beerus follow him away from the party to fight so that nobody else got hurt, Gotenks and Bulma both end up following him out there, and while everyone else stayed back and watched, nobody was close enough to stop it.
The point of that moment is to be Shocking. There is no wind up, there's no drama, there's not even a music cue. It is Completely Unexpected, for the characters and the audience alike, and that's why Vegeta has such an extreme reaction. He had No Time to brace himself for what was about to go down and No Time to change it.
This is another scene that was fully About Vegeta that Toei made About Someone Else (Beerus), changing the shot to a group shot of his power up and immediately having Beerus block all of the attacks, where Toriyama said, "Vegeta's strength scared the SHIT out of Beerus for a hot sec"
And if you've been following along in my vent tags about why Toei's writing is so bad and what they constantly center everything around, you can probably guess why the premise for this movie was changed so dramatically. But if you're new here, it's this:
It's because Vegeta's SSJ1 could do what Goku's SSJ3 couldn't.
And Vegeta didn't even notice, because he is not Trying to beat Goku. After his own fight and until he shows back up, Goku's probably only mentioned twice, because this ain't about him. Vegeta's not even really trying to beat Beerus here. He's not trying to prove anything. It's not about power or pride or saiyans or being the best, it's PURELY about protecting the people (specifically in this instance, the woman) he loves. ALL of which become the theme of, "Vegeta you are stupid powerful when you can stop overthinking everything."
But that's not allowed in Toei's writing room, nO SIR!!!
Bonus Part 1: Someone at Toei Hates Vegeta part 41238712: The episode About Vegeta's Response to Bulma Getting Hurt is basically titled 'Yay, Goku's Back', because despite stretching this 1hr45m movie out into 14 Episodes, the one that is about Vegeta surpassing Goku (in the movie) and fighting to defend his wife of Over a Decade is a five minute fight scene followed by twelve minutes of Oolong's two minute rock-paper-scissor gag.
What was the fight scene, you may ask??? Instead of having Vegeta know he's not strong enough and still stand in Beerus' way, for Beerus to say 'chill out, I told you it's over' and tap Geets on the forehead to knock him out cold, like the movie --
They decide to have Vegeta just stop trying mid-fight, have Beerus tell him he's too weak to be a threat, then add that he had more fun fighting Goku before knocking Vegeta on the chin and having him land on his back fully conscious.
God I hate Toei's writing aksldjlaskdalkj
Bonus Part 2: That thing Vegeta spent the entire movie trying to avoid telling his wife because it would've scared the shit out her and ruined her party, scares the shit out of her and definitely would've ruined her party.
Crazy that he knew that and did everything in his power to keep it from becoming her problem. He treats her like she's his wife or something ahahaha 🔪 toei 🔪 hahaha
anyway if you figure you've seen the anime so you don't need to watch the movies cause they're basically the same no they're not they're only the same in terms of Basic Plot Points, PLEASE do yourself and your writing skills a favor and watch the movies
#I know you wrote these episodes Toshio I see your name in the credits kalsdkasj#Resident Yamcha Stan getting paid to just absolutely trash Vegeta's key character moments. That level of petty is a little iconic I'm ngl#I'd respect it more if the episode structures weren't so sloppy#this was gonna be a short post!!! oops#the focus meds are working but this wasn't what I needed to do today askldjaklsjfasjdlkajs#dbtag#media analysis#media crit#praise and also haterade asjdkasj#vegebul
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Here in the end times, it feels like everyone got a little weird.
That'll happen, you know? In a city of bondage rooftop pirates, predatory psychic business suits, and tacticool kindness cults; in a world where the sun's gone all high contrast, low brightness; in a time where isolation is a synonym for safety ... let's just say the 'Overton Window of Normality' has shifted.
Yep, when the light broke, we all got a bit strange.
All except for Simon, that is.
Simon is perfectly normal. Simon is swell. Simon still stops by Nero's for a coffee in the mornings and the Coffee Mafia *serve him* (I think just out of confusion).
Simon goes into his co-working space three days a week. Sometimes he works on his screenplay. Other times he goes through long-dead databases and de-duplicates records. If you ask him why, he'll just say that he gets tired of working from home all the time and needs a change of scenery.
Simon keeps a spreadsheet to track the good places for salvage in London-in-Darkness. He has different tabs for foodstuffs, fuel, clothes, makeshift weaponry, and a dozen other useful categories. He sorts them according to quality, abundance, known predators, level of contrast corruption, and convenience for his commute. Ask him to show you his v-lookups sometime.
If you haunt the high buildings like I do, then you'll see him sometimes, scuttling about in his scruffy converse, jeans and hoodie. If he sees you see him, he'll wave.
It's not that the various predators, gangs and high-contrast memetic hazards avoid him, exactly. They continue their usual routes; their patterns of search, destroy and throw-a-wobbly. But somehow they just ... miss him. He'll be overlooked or have a miraculous lucky escape. Occasionally, he'll get captured for a few days and spend the time working on his yoga routine, before the next localised burst of spectrum distortion gives him a chance to scarper.
You might be tempted, if you run across him, to join Simon.
You might hear him say things like: "Why don't we pool our resources" or "Let's catch up sometime" or "I've set up a mini golf course in the Tate Modern, if you fancy it" or "Do you want to listen to some Bruno Mars? I think I have one of the last unscratched CDs."
I urge you: do not listen to him.
He means you no ill will. Simon is *normal* and *nice*.
But nice is not kind. Normal is not benevolent. And sometimes, people overlook that the world will hurt those less lucky than them without really thinking about it. And it is *normal* to protect yourself in that way. It is *nice* to gloss over difficult things.
Simon lives a live that is orthogonal to the rest of us. His plane of existence is ever so slightly out of sync.
Yours isn't.
He is a last unchanging remnant of a world that was.
You aren't.
If you meet him, you will want to follow him. His is a world of order and predictability, of self-care days and flexi-time, of secret film screenings and hidden menus in bougie coffee shops. You will be enchanted by the way he talks about getting plenty of natural light, the way he complains about his commute, and how he still tips twelve percent.
But I beg you: do not heed his Simon song. For it is the song of Bruno Mars and you will be dashed on the funk rocks.
Don't go with him, the world that keeps him safe does not exist anymore.
And when I see Simon scuttling through the streets with a new friend, I am sometimes glad that it is gone.
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Ikuhara Collaborators
as fans, it's easy to attribute any given aspect of an Ikuhara work to its flashy director. he is indeed a showrunner, the one who provides the uniting vision for a project. however, that doesn't mean that he is "the creator." anime production requires a lot of teamwork, which ultimately determines the quality of a work. rather than being a lone auteur, Ikuhara's strength as a director stems from his ability to draw in talent and create synergy between members. this post will highlight the individuals who worked with Ikuhara to bring his shows to life.
a quick note before we start: there are countless workers involved in a single anime production. for my sanity and yours, I focused on the ones I could find detailed information about. if you know of any additional contributors, or have detail to add about any of those I've included, feel free to leave a comment!
Sato Junichi
the first person who should be mentioned in regards to Ikuhara's career is Sato Junichi, his mentor at Toei. Ikuhara worked under Sato for his first animation projects, including a children's series called Maple Town Stories. Sato was the lead director for the first two seasons of Sailor Moon, but over time, he allowed Ikuhara more and more space to flex his own creative muscles. Ikuhara eventually directed the Sailor Moon R movie and became lead director on the season Sailor Moon S.
Sato is known as a great mentor--he also helped Kōnosuke Uda, Igarashi Takuya and Hosoda Mamoru early in their careers. it's safe to say that Ikuhara learned a lot from him. his respect for his mentor is shown by the fact that he asked Sato to provide storyboards for the vital episode 34 of Utena, "The Rose Crest." although Toei animators often used pseudonyms when working on outside projects, Sato declined to do so, wanting to celebrate his work on Utena.
other notable work: Goldfish Warning (Series Director); Sailor Moon and Sailor Moon R (Series Director); Sailor Moon S (Episode Director); Neon Genesis Evangelion (Storyboard); Vision of Escaflowne (Storyboard); Yume no Crayon Oukoku (Episode Director, Storyboard); Cowboy Bebop (Storyboard); Princess Tutu (Series Director, Storyboard, Manga); Sgt. Frog (Series Director, Storyboard); Aria the Animation (Series Director, Head Writer, Storyboard)
Enokido Yoji
a member of Be-Papas, Enokido was heavily involved in the writing and composition of Utena. he and Ikuhara attended the same high school, in the same year, but it is unclear how well they knew each other; but they were friends by the time Ikuhara was a film student. Enokido previously worked alongside Ikuhara on Sailor Moon, while also contributing to scripts to Evangelion. on Utena, he wrote roughly half the episodes: 1-5, 7, 9, 13-15, 22-23, 25-26, 30, 33-34, and 37-39, all crucial to the story. he handled every Miki episode and frequently focused on that character in interviews. while he did not handle animation composition on the film, he did write its screenplay.
if I had to say what Enokido brought to Utena, it would be articulation. he was able to understand Ikuhara's ideas and express them both in writing and in animation. my impression is that Ikuhara and Enokido got along very well and shared a vision, but Enokido balanced him out by injecting a bit of skepticism and realism into the work. it's hard to say how his visual style influenced Utena, but given that he was in charge of composition, he must have had a good eye and an ability to lead a team.
other notable work: Sailor Moon S (Series Composition, Script); Sailor Moon S: The Movie (Script); Redline (Composition, Script); Ouran High School Host Club (Series Composition, Script); Neon Genesis Evangelion (Script); Bungo Stray Dogs (Script, Series Composition); FLCL (Novelization)
Saito Chiho
a mangaka, her expressive and sensual art touched Ikuhara so much that he became determined to work with her. The Flower Crown Madonna, Saito's manga focused on the Borgias, served as an inspiration for Akio and Anthy's relationship.
along with the rest of Be-Papas, Saito created the Utena manga, starting it about a year before the anime aired. she later wrote and drew a manga companion for Adolescence of Utena, and in 2017, she honored the series's 20th anniversary by releasing the tribute After the Revolution. over the years, she's contributed a great deal to the Utena fandom. she also drew a ReoMabu piece for the Sarazanmai anthology.
of Saito, Ikuhara once said, "she's the most important woman to me, and truly understands me." it seems that they developed a strong relationship while working on Utena, which has lasted for decades. the two have collaborated on other projects, such as World of S&M, and done interviews together as recently as 2020.
other notable work (all as mangaka): Tenshi no Tattoo; Waltz in a White Dress; The Flower Crown Madonna; Kanon; First Girl; VS Lupin
Hasegawa Shinya
also a part of Be-Papas, Hasegawa was the principle character designer and art director for Utena, as well as a storyboard artist. he brought a sense of humor and eroticism to the project which suited it well, working closely with Chiho Saito to create Utena's artistic landscape. he was behind many little flourishes, such as Saionji crying in the opening credits. in addition to working on Utena, he also provided key animation for Penguindrum's first OP and final episode.
other notable work: Sailor Moon, Sailor Moon S, Sailor Moon R (Animation Director, Key Animator); Neon Genesis Evangelion (Key Animation); A Certain Magical Index (Chief Animation Director); The Girl Who Lept Through Time (Key Animation)
Oguro Yuichiro
Be-Papas member Oguro is credited as series planner. Empty Movement note that he was likely the one who handled publicity and marketing for the series, but may have also helped out in other ways. it was important for Utena's success to have someone with connections involved, and what's just what Oguro brought to the table.
he is the editor-in-chief of the magazine Anime Style and has interviewed other individuals on this list.
other notable work: Gekigangar 3 (Script); Kemonozume (Research and Planning Assistant); Goku and Zoku Sayonara Zetsubou-sensei (Series Composition)
J.A. Seazer
though not a member of Be-Papas, J.A. Seazer, the composer for the duel chorus songs, left a huge mark on Utena. in fact, the series's very conception was influenced by him. Seazer worked with one of Ikuhara's greatest inspirations, the experimental theater/film director Tereyama Shuji. a few of the duel songs actually predate Utena, including "Absolute Destiny Apocalpyse," which was written for a theater production. most of the duel songs were written explicity for Utena, and Be-Papas have said that they matched each song to its respective duelist. without the esoteric and powerful music that Seazer provided, Utena wouldn't be the same.
in the years since show's release, Seazer has gone on to write three whole new Utena albums, as well as many remixes of the original duel songs. you can learn more about them on Empty Movement's audiology page; I highly recommend checking them out if you haven't already.
other notable work (all as composer): Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets; Moc; The Woman with Two Heads; Shintokumaru; Grass Labyrinth; Farewell to the Ark
Ohtsuki Toshimichi
speaking of J.A. Seazer, producer Ohtsuki Toshimichi is, according to Ikuhara, the only reason that he was able to get the composer on board for the project. producers often go unmentioned, but when considering a production, they are, naturally, essential. luckily for us, Ohtsuki was willing to take a chance on Utena (series and film), allowing the creative team total freedom. that willingness to go out on a limb taught Ikuhara the importance of taking risks.
other notable work (all as producer or exective producer): Metropolis; FLCL; Shaman King; Lorelei; Evangelion Rebuild Films
Kobayashi Shichirou
Utena's art director, Kobayashi, was and is a legend in the world of anime. known for his extensive work with director Dezaki Osamu, he was known for his beautiful backgrounds. known his hand-drawn paintings, Kobayashi helped to shape the look of many beautiful anime, including Utena.
it could be said that he was the one to help bring Ohtori to life. he was responsible for many of the backgrounds from both the show and the movie. his studio, Kobayashi Productions, was also instrumental in bringing the franchise to the screen.
other notable work: Moomins (Background Artist); The Gutsy Frog (Art Director); Lupin the Third: Castle of Cagliostro (Art Director); Ashita no Joe 2 (Art Director), Golgo 13 (Art Director), Urusei Yatsura 2 and 3 (Art Director); Angel’s Egg (Art Director, Layout Supervisor); Venus Wars (Art Director); Berserk 1997 (Art Director); Legend of Basara (Art Director); Simoun (Art Director)
Yamaguchi Ryōta
under the penname Noboru Higa, Yamaguchi wrote all Nanami episodes of Utena. he was not a member of Be-Papas and was asked to write her episodes in such a way that they would feel out of place. I think we can all agree that this had a positive effect on Utena. there isn't much information available about his work on the show, but it seems that his brand of comedy had a great influence.
other notable work: Sailor Moon S (Script); Sailor Moon Sailor Stars (Series Composition, Script); Ranma ½ Season 7 (Script); Vision of Escaflowne and Escaflowne: The Movie (Script); Medabots (Series Composition, Script); Kanon (Script)
Igarashi Takuya
Igarashi wrote Utena episode 19, directed episodes 9 and 19, and storyboarded many others, all under the pseudonym Kazayama Juugo. as he discusses in this interview, the staff members often had their own special character that they felt closest to and worked on the most, and for him, it was Saionji. he storyboarded Part A of Adolescence, meaning that he handled the Saionji duel.
Igarashi was another hire from Toei, having also worked on Sailor Moon. given that he storyboarded the crucial episodes 25, 30, and 37, he must have quite the artistic talent. however, if you read his interview, you'll see that he also has lots of great insights into Utena's themes as well. he talks a lot about the mood and tone, which often go undiscussed.
other notable work: Sailor Moon R and S (Director, Storyboard); Sailor Moon R: The Movie (Assistant Director); Cutie Honey F (Director, Storyboard); Mushishi (Director, Storyboard); Ouran High School Host Club (Director, Storyboard); Soul Eater (Director, Storyboard); Bungou Stray Dogs (Director, Storyboard)
Hosoda Mamoru
believe it or not, Hosoda worked on Utena before he ever directed a film of his own! having also been mentored by Sato, he met Ikuhara at Toei and came to work under him on Utena under the pseudonym Hashimoto Katsuyo. while Igarashi felt a kinship with Saionji, Hosoda's focus character was Juri. while he mostly handled storyboards and key animation, he wrote one script: the one for episode 29, the final Juri episode. he gave an interview about her two-episode concluding arc here. in addition, he storyboarded Part C of the Utena movie, which includes Juri's duel.
other notable work (all as film director): Digimon: The Movie; One Piece Movie 6; The Girl Who Leapt Through Time; Summer Wars; Wolf Children; The Boy and the Beast (also wrote); Mirai (also wrote); Belle (also wrote)
Mitsumune Shinkichi
Mitsumune composed Utena's beautiful background music, for both the series and film. I can't find much information about him, but I had to include him on this list because I adore every single track he penned.
other notable work (all as composer): FLCL; Yu-Gi-Oh (it looks like he more or less scored the entire franchise); Dragon Dive; Rocket Girls
Aizawa Masahiro
at last, we come to an entry that isn't confined to Utena! Aizawa worked on Utena, Penguindrum, and Yurikuma, all in the area of animation. credits include storyboards, chief animation director, key animation, and more. he seems to have taken on the most responsiblity with Penguindrum, being heavily involved in episodes 17 and 23.
it appears that he's another animator that Ikuhara met at Toei. he's still active in the anime industry and works under the pseudonym Aizawa Kagetsu. his notable work section might look short, but that's because he's made small contributions on a large number of projects.
other notable work: Lupin the Third: The Woman Called Mine Fujiko (Animator Director for OPs and EDs); One Piece Film: Z (Key Animation); Tanaka-kun wa Itsumo Kedaruge (Storyboard, Director, Key Animation)
Nakamura Shouko
Nakamura got her start at Production I.G and Gainax and is known for a feminine, sensual animation style. she codirected Penguindrum with Ikuhara, along with storyboarding many episodes, providing key animation, designing the settings, and working on the OPs/EDs. at least as far as visuals go, she may have been the most influential person to work on Penguindrum, and Ikuhara handed the crucial task of directing the final two episodes over to her.
Nakamura has had a long and successful career working on many projects. I'm not able to find any interviews with her on Penguindrum, but given how much she invested into it, she must have been just as determined as Ikuhara to see it made.
other notable work: Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (Key Animation); Mushishi (Key Animation, Animation Director); Kimi ni Todoke (Key Animation, Animation Director, Storyboard); Kill la Kill (Key Animation, Director, Storyboard); Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not) Redo (Key Animation); Doukyuusei (Chief Director, Storyboard, Key Animation)
Nishii Terumi
now a veteran of the anime industry, Nishii's first ever job was working behind the scenes on Adolescence of Utena. she later served as animation director and character designer on Penguindrum. when asked about working with Ikuhara, she said it was "very hard," because, despite the freedom he afforded his staff, "he changed his mind every week." in fact, she said that Penguindrum was the hardest project she ever worked on.
Nishii is a major critic of the anime industry's treatment of workers and is a member of NAFCA, an organization lobbying for better conditions for animators.
other notable work: InuYasha (Key Animation); Saint Seiya Franchise (Character Design); Mushishi (Animation Director, Key Animation); Death Note (Key Animation, Animation Director); Heartcatch Precure! (Key Animation); JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond Is Unbreakable (Character Design, Chief Animation Director); Jujutsu Kaisen (Chief Animation Director)
Hoshino Lily
a manga artist, she worked on Penguindrum as a character designer and also drew all the end cards. she's known for BL, including Naruto doujinshi and fan art. in 2013, she contributed to a Utena tribute book on Pixiv.
like Nishii, she mentions Ikuhara frequently changing his mind while developing Penguindrum. though multiple character designers worked on the project, it seems that Hoshino was the one primarily responsible for the looks of the main characters. apparently, Sanetoshi is meant to look like one of her "long-haired ukes."
other notable work (all as mangaka): Harem de Hitori; Boku dake no Ō-sama; Rabu Kue; Otome Yōkai Zakuro; Yumemiru Koto
Nakamura Chieko
like Nishii, Nakamura worked on Utena very early in her career and went on to be an animator for Penguindrum. she worked on the backgrounds and was the art director for many episodes, including the first and last; she also contributed to the "Crystal World" of episode 9. later, she would collaborate with Ikuhara again on Yurikuma as a background artist and art director.
other notable work: Eyeshield 21 (Background Art); Kids on the Slope (ED); Sengoku Collection (Art Director, Background Art); Doukyuusei (Art Director, Background Art); Saint Cecilia and Pastor Lawrence (Art Director, Art Setting, Background Art)
Hayashi Akemi
a pattern is emerging: Hayashi also worked on Utena relatively early in her career as key animator (6 episodes and film) and animation director (8 episodes and film). later, she contributed to Penguindrum as a key animator--specifically, she is the one who animated the Princess of the Crystal transformation sequence!
Ikuhara said in an interview that she is "good at drawing small details" and thus asked her to handle Himari and Shoma's backstory. she storyboarded, directed, and provided key animations for episode 20, a major series turning point.
other notable work: Slam Dunk (Key Animation); Fruits Basket (Character Design, Key Animation, Chief Animation Director, Animation Director); Gurren Lagann (Animation Director, Key Animation); Banana Fish (Character Design, Chief Animation Director, Key Animation); Doukyuusei (Storyboard, Character Design, Animation Director, Key Animation)
Hashimoto Yukari
Hashimoto deserves to have her praises sung to the heavens for composing the OST for every post-Utena Ikuhara work--not only the BGM, but also the Triple-H songs and musical numbers from Sarazanmai. according to this staff article, "she's able to respond to any out-there requests Ikuhara makes." that's readily apparent on the Yurikuma OST, where she seemlessly blends a wide variety of musical styles to create a unique sound.
other notable work (all as composer/arranger): Sayonara Zetsubou-sensei (OP and ED); Toradora!; Poco's Udon World; March Comes in Like a Lion; Osomatsu-san (2020); Komi Can't Communicate
Ikami Takayo
Ikami "is a Japanese novelist, detective fiction writer and screenwriter born in Tokyo in 1975." she is credited as cowriter for all Penguindrum and Yurikuma episodes, as well as the Yurikuma novelizations. it seems that she may have been the one to come up with the phrases "Yuri approved" and "Is your love the real thing?" outside of writing, she has also dabbled in series composition.
other notable work: Thirteen Eyes in a Dark Sky (Short Story); Isolde's Garden (Novel); Watamote (Script); Beautiful Bones: Sakurako’s Investigation (Series Composition, Script); Otherside Picnic (Script)
Yamada Haru
Yamada is a big name sound director and the cofounder of Sound Team Don Juan. he's worked on many projects over time, including some blockbuster hits, but still found time to be the sound director of Penguindrum, Yurikuma, and Sarazanmai.
other notable work: Your Name (Sound Department); Shin Godzilla (Sound Department); Made in Abyss (Sound Director); Banana Fish (Sound Director); Suzume (Sound Director); Shin Ultraman (Sound Department); Skip to Loafer (Sound Director)
Shibata Katsunori
Shibata was relatively inexperienced as a director when Ikuhara took him under his wing, giving him a lot of responsibility on Penguindrum. he provided storyboards, directed episodes, created special effects, and drew concept designs. he was credited for the "bear dance" ED of Yurikuma and did storyboards/key animation for episode 4. on Sarazanmai, he directed episode 6, codirected the OP along with Ikuhara, and did storyboards for episodes 1, 6, and 10.
other notable work: Xam'd: Lost Memories (Key Animation); Sword of the Stranger (Key Animation); A Certain Magical Index (Key Animation) Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (Key Animation); Sengoku Collection (Storyboard, Character Design, Animation Director, Key Animation)
Kaneko Shingo
the more you look into it, the more it seems like Penguindrum, Yurikuma, and Sarazanmai were staffed by the exact same people. that's not true, of course, but there is a lot of overlap.
in this case, there's overlap with Utena too. a former Toei employee, Kaneko is the only person on this list who worked on all four Ikuhara works. he provided storyboards for Utena episodes 2, 11, 32, and 38, and was also assistant director on a couple others. on Adolescence, he served as a unit director and storyboarder for Part B. he provided the script for episode 16 of Penguindrum, one of my favorites. he directed the episode as well, along with 4 and 23 under Nakamura Shouko.
Kaneko additionally storyboarded and directed episode 8 of Yurikuma, but took on a bigger role with Sarazanmai, where he storyboarded the Kawauso Dance and directed episodes 2, 8, and 10. apparently, he's "earned a reputation as Ikuhara’s comedy chief." thanks, Kaneko!
other notable work: Slam Dunk (Assistant Director); Parappa the Rapper (Storyboard, Unit Director); Fullmetal Alchemist (Storyboard, Director); Soul Eater (Storyboard, Director); Sengoku Collection (Storyboard, Director, Key Animation)
Furukawa Tomohiro
after doing some key animation on Penguindrum, Furukawa went on to be a major figure in the production of Yurikuma. he did storyboards/key animation, acted as Ikuhara's assistant director, and took on the final, crucial episode 12 as lead director.
Furukawa is now a showrunner in his own right and still acknowledges Ikuhara as his mentor, though he doesn't want to be pigeonholed as his "follower." this article suggests that, based on comments Ikuhara has made, Furukawa's knack for euphony left its mark on his mentor's work. in return, Furukawa has joked about Ikuhara's "insincere grumpiness" and praised both his management style and gift at mentorship.
other notable work: Death Note (Key Animation); One Piece Film: Z (Key Animation, Assistant Animation Director); Kakegurui Twin (Director); Revue Starlight Franchise (Showrunner)
Morishima Akiko
a yuri artist, Morishima was inspired to become a mangaka at age 19 after she read an Ikuhara interview. she was afraid to accept his offer to work on Yurikuma out of fear that she would "ruin everything," but ultimately came onto the project to create the manga.
in the linked starting guide, Morishima and Ikuhara go into detail about the planning process for Yurikuma. it's revealed why Ikuhara likes to work with mangaka; he has them draw the characters first and creates their personalities based on their art. he specifically wanted to work with Morishima to give him some yuri cred. when asked, Morishima discusses her likes and dislikes when it comes to yuri. she apparently prefers writing about older women and doesn't care about how sexy a yuri is, but only about the strength of the romance.
Morishima has drawn tributes to Ikuhara's other works, including Penguindrum and Sarazanmai. she also wrote the Yurizanmai section of the Sarazanmai anthology.
other notable work (all as mangaka): The Conditions of Paradise; Hanjuku-Joshi; Renai Joshika; Onna no ko Awase; Motto Hanjuku Joshi
Kurosawa Masayuki
Kurosawa is a digital artist, editor, director, and storyboarder. I don't have a lot of information on him, but I decided to include him because he storyboarded Yurikuma episode 11 AND Sarazanmai episode 8 (along with 10). what does this mean? well, he handled both Lulu and Enta getting shot, of course! funny how these things work out.
in addition to storyboarding, he is also credited as Sarazanmai's editor.
other notable work: Wolf's Rain (Director); El Cazador de la Bruja (Editor); Revue Starlight (Editor); My Happy Marriage (Editor)
Takeuchi Nobuyuki
Takeuchi was working at Shaft when the studio picked up some outsourced animation for Utena. his work was striking enough to catch Ikuhara's attention, and so he was brought on to Adolescence as an animation director. as the 2000s began, Takeuchi saw success working at Shaft with director Shinbo Akiyuki. this article describes him as particularly talented at externalizing characters' inner struggles.
Takeuchi, though presumably quite busy, contributed to Penguindrum, specifically episode 9, acting as the sole director, key animator, and storyboard artist. he got a chance to shine with that episode, which is now a fan favorite.
the reason that Takeuchi is so far down this list is that he played a larger role in the production of Sarazanmai. he's credited as the codirector along with Ikuhara, as well as a storyboard artist and key animator. Takeuchi is noted for his focus on the Kuji brothers, having directed episodes 4 and 9. he gave an interview about his work on Sarazanmai, which can be read here.
other notable work: Spirited Away (Key Animation); The Cat Returns (Key Animation); Howl's Moving Castle (Key Animation); Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea (Key Animation); Bakemonogatari (Storyboard, Animation Director); Weathering With You (Key Animation)
Migi
a mangaka, she provided Sarazanmai's character designs, contributed to the anthology, and is still drawing the Sarazanmai manga. she's said that Tooi was the hardest character to design, and she argued with Ikuhara over Sara's look, since they apparently have different definitions of bishoujo.
Migi has an active Pixiv account where she still posts Sarazanmai art. she also did this lovely tribute for an Ikuhara exhibition.
other notable work (all as mangaka): Robot; Gelatin
Utsumi Teruko
Utsumi got her start "working as a production assistant at Brains Base and slowly inching towards writing via literature management duties." she's credited as the cowriter of all Sarazanmai episodes, working closely alongside Ikuhara. she also coauthored the light novels, wrote song lyrics, handled series composition, and acted as a manager. on top of all that, she is the one who created the model bridge which transports the Golden Trio to the Field of Desires.
other notable work (all as script writer): A Good Librarian Like a Good Shepherd; Enride; Cheer Boys!!; Kakegurui Season 2
#kunihiko ikuhara#ikuhara#revolutionary girl utena#mawaru penguindrum#yurikuma arashi#sarazanmai#commentary#theres tons of others i didnt include bc i just couldnt find anything about them.
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cw: discussions of nonsexual grooming
There is one thing that has been spinning on my mind ever since I watched the movie. This conversation isn't that popular in the fandom, probably due to its uncomfortable subject matter, but it needs to be discussed. I'll be the one to start
The Director has groomed Ambrosius and it affected him far into adulthood
(A really long analysis post)
Warning: I'm not a psychologist neither am I really educated in this sphere, and I never was a victim of grooming, so don't take my words as 100% truth. However, I'm a literature student, so I can analyse a few scenes and make a conclusion lol
So, to start off, let's share the definition of grooming, shall we?
"Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them."
Now, of course Ambrosius is an adult in the movie, and we can't exactly know his entire history with the Director. So this analysis will take a few things as truth despite them not being confirmed
- the Director has been by Ambrosius's side throughout most of his life. Considering the fact that she's been around even when Ballister was a child, the same can be assumed about Ambrosius
- we as viewers do not see Ambrosius's parents (because this is quite unnecessary to the narrative, maybe we'll see them in a sequel Quane and Bruno were teasing buttt¯\_(ツ)_/¯), and he's been in the Institute since childhood, so it seems like the Director was the most reliable adult in Ambrosius's life
Despite Ambrosius being a grown man, the effect the Director has on him cannot be denied. His relationship to the Director is like half his character arc, the man being torn between his loyalty to the kingdom and his lover
I will take a few scenes from the movie where Ambrosius and the Director interact and try to analyse them
Starting off strong, we've got the "acting like common children" scene. I could point out the obvious bias the Director puts in her words (villainizing an oppressed group of people as a rich white woman in power how nice of her) but we ain't coming to her throat for classism today. Pay attention to her praising Ambrosius and singling him out. "Thankfully, we have a descendant of Gloreth to lead us"
Are other knights happy to be around Ambrosius tho? The answer is no
(Text below is taken from the screenplay. The scene is after Nimona's and Bal's escape)
***
Knights: I knew we never should have trusted Ballister./If Goldenloin hadn't trusted him.../Well, if Goldenloin hadn't helped him...
***
Todd: This is his fault!
Knights: Yeah!/Tell him, Todd!
Goldenloin realizes all eyes are on him
***
I think it wouldn't be wrong to assume Ambrosius's colleagues dislike him at best and outcast him at worst. Compared to Todd, who seems to be the more liked one amongst their peers (bro really is a jock bully high school stereotype in his 20s isn't that embarrassing), Ambrosius is isolated. He doesn't have anybody except Ballister and the Director. And as you all know Ballister and Ambrosius are separated for the most of the movie. So it leaves him with the Director as the closest person to interact with. Yeah...
Also in this scene she displays TWO tactics groomers use to manipulate their victims: isolation and favouritism
Another scene I'd like to pay attention to is Ambrosius's ✨iconic✨ freak out
"What's on your mind, Ambrosius? You can talk to me"
"...I'm fine, Director"
This scene actually left me confused on the first watch because it looks like a perfect moment for the Director to seem at least somewhat sympathetic. It truly seems like she cares about him
Honestly it's pretty hard for me to surely say whether or not she's being sincere or not but her goal is definitely to win over Ambrosius's trust, to make him believe she's a safe person (now that his real safe person is away ajdjdjj). That is also another tactic for groomers to manipulate their victims
And I think it would be fair to mention Director's attitude towards Ballister's and Ambrosius's relationship. It's obvious she knows about them (...not like it's rocket science have you seen these lovebirds) and disapproves. She doesn't outright state it but it's really clear
"Sir Goldenloin, is your loyalty to this Kingdom or to the knight who consorts with a monster?"
Again, amazing case of manipulation. She doesn't say Institute, nor "me" or whatever. She says kingdom. And she clearly knows that it works on Ambrosius, because he is, after all, Gloreth's descendant. Gloreth was the original protector, and Ambrosius is supposed to be the protector now. By choosing Ballister he betrays the kingdom, his bloodline and Gloreth
Now, I know this scene is not Ambrosius & the Director because it's Nimona in disguise but considering how good Nimona was in playing her part we might as well assume real Ambrosius would act the same.
Look at these eyes. He's afraid of her. She has the complete power over him. And Ballister is aware of this (if that's how he told Nimona to act)
Off-topic but I watched Nimona with two of my buddies yesterday and during this scene they both went like "Wait, who is she to Ambrosius again? Is she his mother? Because she acts like she one" and they are so damn right???
Now remember the fact that during one of the interviews Eugene Lee Yang said that the Director is Ambrosius's parental figure. Do with this information whatever you wanna do
I'm still not over her audacity in this scene. Her lip didn't even twitch and she's killing a person whom she praised for his bloodline. Saying "May Gloreth forgive you" while DRIVING A SWORD THROUGH HIM is beyond evil like??? Chill out Nancy Reagan???
I could say that this is the scene that debacles the American model minority myth (with East Asians being put on a pedestal and used to further reinforce white supremacy). A white woman killing an East Asian man while using a Christ-like figure to justify her actions (Gloreth is literally mentioned to be a Christ figure in the art book), and, if we take into account the theory that she wanted to set Ballister up so that it looks like he killed Ambrosius, BLAMING IT ON A BROWN ASIAN MAN was really a choice huh
The Director killed Ambrosius the second he questioned her, the second he wasn't useful to her
And how was he being useful to her? Allow me to introduce you to the scene which made me SUPER uncomfortable once I realized what was going on
During most of the movie Ambrosius acts rather impulsively, reflexes play a big part in his body language. And what does he do? He protects her with his body
"We need to get you to safety!"
Ambrosius was trained in a way that he needed to protect the Director with his body and his life.
Even in scenes where Ambrosius and the Director don't interact you can see how much Ambrosius is brainwashed.
"She manipulated you. She manipulated both of us. But together we'll take her down, you'll be a knight again"
"Thank you. The Director can't-"
"The Director? Oh, no, Bal. I'm talking about your sidekick"
Ambrosius refuses to even think about the effect the Director has on him. He's insisting on Nimona being the manipulator despite him being manipulated
Finally, when Ambrosius realizes something is CLEARLY wrong, he still tries to talk some sense into her
"But what if we're wrong? What if we've always been wrong?"
Despite him being a constant witness to Director's misdeeds he tries to do everything peacefully. Look at his face. This is a face of a man who doesn't want to harm. He gives the Director a chance to improve herself. I think he would forgive her after everything she's done
...but being a conservative she'd rather explode than admit she's wrong. So she attempts to kill Ambrosius again
This, again, says that no matter how much mercy you show to hateful people, they'll continue to be horrible to you. Just because they think they have a right to
Analysing Ambrosius's and the Director's relationship I think it'd be more than valid to state that she has, indeed, groomed Ambrosius to exploit and use him for her own (political and other) benefits. Other knights were brainwashed and groomed too, but something about her attitude towards Ambrosius really bugged me the wrong way
She is an excellent manipulator and Ambrosius fell victim to that, which is no surprise
Thank you for reading this! It took so long to make😭 If you want to add on anything in the reblogs please do, because the discussion HAS to happen at some point
#nimona#ambrosius goldenloin#the director nimona#ballister boldheart#nimona analysis#really on brand for a evangelical christian-coded white person in power to groom and brainwash people#but what do i know#also tumblr is meannnnn i needed more screenshots to prove my point#i hope you understood what i mean tho lol
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Since people were talking about it recently: is there any official reason given of why Padme forgave Anakin immediatly after the Tusken Raider massacre? I always see a lot of diferent reasons given on the internet, from long and deep analises of theirs characters to "the writers didn't think about it".
Okay, folks (or single person who messaged me three times) I'm finally talking about this XD !
I got no official answer.
That said, here's a few points that I do think merit consideration, and I haven't really seen them mentioned anywhere.
1. Anakin is more regretful in the script.
If you look at how the scene is portrayed in the Attack of the Clones July 2001 draft of the screenplay, in Scene 118, pages 83-84...
... he's sorry and ashamed. He is in absolute shock of what he did. We get a bit of this, in the film...
... but in the script it's much more explicit. It starts out with him lashing out at Obi-Wan, at his own lack of power, but it ends with him breaking down and just apologizing over and over.
He didn't just kill them, he went Wolverine-style berseker and murdered EVERYTHING in his path, and he's thinking back on it with a clear-ish head now and realizing the gravity of his monstrous act.
When it's on paper, it reads very differently, to me. He's more remorseful, so Padmé's reaction makes more sense.
But there's a big difference between what you write in a script and what comes out in the film. Once you're shooting, myriad other factors come into play. So Anakin's dialog changes as the delivery and the rhythm are narrowed down, the beats in the scene shift around... but Padmé's reaction stays the same.
And that's where you get the disconnect.
Because what sticks with the audience more is this moment, now.
The anger. Not the shock and remorse.
So why the change? Well, George Lucas had this to say:
"He's very unhappy about that. Very sad and depressed. There was some dialogue here before that I took out, because it seemed to get in the way of the emotional moment of this scene where she says, "To be angry is to be human," and he says, "But to control your anger is to be a Jedi." And so that issue was actually laid out in dialogue at one point, and I decided to pull back from it... because it seemed to me that it was pretty obvious that was what was there. And I didn't think I needed to state it quite as boldly as I did. And that issue will come up at a later time, and I just felt it took away from the moment of his sadness. And I thought the sadness pretty much said the same thing without words." - AotC, Commentary Track #2, 2002
The reasoning was: too much dialog takes away from emotion.
An audience member will have a stronger emotional reaction from Anakin crying than Anakin crying while screaming "woe is me!"
I get (and generally agree) with the reasoning. But, personally, I have mixed feelings about this particular artistic choice.
On the one hand... if the intent is to show that Anakin made a big mistake and is sorry and sad because of his actions, then I think it's safe to say that it's not what most people took away.
Which then leads to things like John Ostrander writing Anakin as thinking he'd kill them all over again.
Also, it makes the viewer question the wisdom of Padmé's judgment.
But on the other hand... whether Anakin was feeling apologetic or not, he still did it. He still effectively massacred a whole tribe, he made that choice.
And whether the intent in that specific scene is conveyed efficiently or not, Anakin's character flaws (which the Prequels are really about) aren't really impacted and still tie together perfectly.
The only real change to that scene is that Padmé goes from having a more understandable reaction to "missing a lot of red flags".
2. Padmé thinks she can fix Anakin.
Here's what Natalie Portman had to say on the scene, which I think is an interesting take.
"She's this very powerful woman, and I think Padmé is sort of intrigued by this darker side she sees to him, especially because she's such a person who tries to fix everything. She sees problems in the world and she still has that idealistic passion… to think she can change everything, and she can change people who have darkness to them. And she sees goodness in him. She sees this passion. And she sees that there's a lot of anger in that passion, that it's not just the goodness and purity of her passion. So I think that is definitely attractive for her- that there's something that she can try and help heal or mend. That might be a big surprise for her when she can't." - Natalie Portman, AotC, Commentary Track #2, 2002
A part of Padmé is intrigued by Anakin's darker side, the "handsome bad boy" part... but that's coming from a place of "I can change him".
But the only thing that can change Anakin... is Anakin himself. Unfortunately, he keeps:
indulging his darker selfish impulses because he lacks discipline, acting on emotion despite knowing better,
regretting it for a moment and acknowledging that it was wrong,
starting again, never learning from his mistakes.
Which is part of the reason why their relationship is sort of doomed from the get-go.
#Screenplay Analysis#bts tidbits#Anidala#Anakin Skywalker#Padmé Amidala#Attack of the Clones#Star Wars#Episode II#hayden christensen#natalie portman#george lucas#QnA
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Xmen fans, I'm having The Thoughts™ and I'd like to share a small scene, written basically as a screenplay script (And this totally isn't from the Xmen fanfiction I need to write up and post one of these days)
Kurt, walking into the kitchen one evening to eat/talk with Logan: "Oh, good evening students! How go your studies?"
Jubilee, Bobbie, Kitty and Anole, looking at eachother.
Kitty: "All good, Mr.Wagner."
Kurt, wanting to be helpful: "Is there anything I can help with? Shakespeare is a hard study, I'd be happy to-"
Kitty, while Bobby, Anole, and Jubilee get up and start leaving: "That's quite alright, I think we're just going to take this to the library and study there. Goodnight!"
Kurt, in uncomfortable silence: "...That keeps happening"
Logan, not having looked up from his plate: "What, the kids taking a walk whenever you show up?"
Kurt, nodding: "I don't understand. I know I've not been teaching very long but, surely they will have adjusted to my face by now, yes?"
Logan: "Ain't the face, Blue."
Kurt, sitting: "Then what?"
Logan: "Jubilee's had their fair share of Jesus crazy Foster parents, Bobbie was born to some, then Kitty and Anole have their own stories too."
Kurt, looking down at his cross chain: "...Oh"
Logan, still not looking up: "Yeah"
Kurt: "...I'd never do that to them, surely they know that, yes?"
Logan, looking up finally: "Give em time. They just need a reason to believe that you're different"
Kurt, tucking his cross into his shirt and standing: "Then I will"
//Next evening//
Kitty, Bobby, Anole and Jubilee look up to the sound of knocking at the small library doorway:
Kurt, leaned in said doorway: "Forgive me, but might I have a word?"
Students, all nervous, nod:
Kurt, taking a seat on a nearby table and taking a breath: "I-"
Jubilee: "We're sorry, Mr.Wagner, about yesterday. Logan told us you seemed upset and we didnt mean to-"
Kurt: "Ah, that is unnecessary. I'd actually like to apologise to you, if I may?"
Students, looking at eachother, confused.
Kurt: "I've heard about your bad experiences with people of my faith, so I know your unease around me is well founded. I'm more upset knowing there are people out there who judge you. Not just as mutants but as people that are also different in other ways too."
A nervous pause.
Kurt, smiling: "I mean, the bible is pretty long, but with the ten commandments, basically footnotes for the whole thing, they've no excuse to judge, it literally says right there"
Kitty giggles, Bobby smiles.
Kurt: "The point of this is- while I can't erase that some people think of themselves like He who died on the cross, despite their sins and judging you, I can assure you that I will not be like them."
Another pause.
Kurt: "You are safe around me. Regardless of who you love or how you express your souls. The only people that are not safe around me, are people that threaten you. That includes people who share my faith. There is not a single teaching that could justify you being persecuted for something you did not choose."
Jubilee, Bobby, Anole and Kitty all fall quiet, looking at eachother.
Kurt stands and turns to the door, having said his piece: "Right, I shall leave you to study. Apologies again for-"
Kurt pauses, feeling arms around his waist.
Anole and Kitty, hugging Kurt: "Thank you"
Jubilee and Bobby get up too, joining the hug.
Kurt, smiling: "Mein Gott, the bar really is in Hell for us isn't it? All I said was you won't be hate crimed in my presence"
Cut to Logan standing outside the door, hearing the quiet laughs of the students, smiling, before walking away. Kurt leaves eventually, closing the door behind himself, seeming a little misty in the eyes. He looks down to where is cross is still tucked away before pulling it out and letting it rest above his shirt proudly once again.
//Scene//
(I will write this in its entirety, I promise)
Being a fruity gentleman with a long history of bad experiences with the Catholic Church and catholics as a whole (I bare no ill will to the community) I struggle to feel safe among believers in God (Christians and Catholics specifically) and I've got plenty of friends in my generation who feel the same. And I was just thinking how Kurt would respond to that in the students at the Xaviers school.
#xmen#x men#kurt wagner#nightcrawler#xmen fanfiction#xmen fandom#logan howlett#wolverine#jubilation lee#jubilee#kitty pryde#bobby drake#iceman xmen#anole#anole xmen
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Headcheese
For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Disability Pride Month Event: Day Two- Weird Lookin’
Word Count: ~9,700
Warnings: Ableism, especially internalized, and use of ableist slurs. Implied domestic abuse. Delusions- Nubbins Sawyer canonically has schizophrenia and this fic explores that. This includes mild religious delusions, fantasies about violence, slight medical delusions, and applying thoughts and motivations to others. Brief descriptions of harmful stimming. Canonical self harm. Misogyny. Inaccurate diagnoses and language. Period typical everything. Several instances of animal cruelty. Blood and violence.
Disclaimer: The dialogue is not original. All dialogue is pulled from the screenplay script which was still called ‘Leatherface’ or ‘Headcheese.’ This fic serves as an internal reflection/stream of consciousness during a canonical scene; interpretations, headcanons, etc are mine.
__________
His hair is sweaty, dropping little beads down his back in addition to an already soaked shirt. Nubbins scrunches his neck back to squish out the wetness, the inside of this van no better than out in the heat or at home. At least the windows is open at home, unless Bubba got scared of bein’ alone again and shut ‘em all up.
The van he’s in makes all kinds of noises, sputtering and coughing fuel behind it like roadkill entrails. The stink of gasoline always made Nubbins’ head dizzy, when it’d waft off the generators. Makes him wiggle a little every time the van struggles to get to speed on the long stretch ‘ road.
Better than walkin’ still. Nubbins been cooped up inside, couldn’t stand one more second at home waitin’ for Cook to do all the fun work bringin’ home food. Can’t get in trouble anyhow if he feeds the family by takin’ this trip. But he got tired of all the wanderin’ a good while ago without any excitement. Closest he got was the harsh ping of a crushed up Coke can smacking against the back of his head when it was thrown from a Cadillac. ‘Bout knocked him stupid.
The heat always makes him itch. Big brother would always tell folks, when he was just a tiny thing growin’ up, that the marks didn’t mean much, ‘cept it ain’t true. Where it’s red it burns like fire under his skin when he’s out in the sun so much. His arms too, where he’s got sores poppin’ up like prairie dogs been tunneling in his flesh. All the running made him tired of it even more now. Breathless from his run.
Franklin, the wheelchair man from the van group, don’t give him much a chance to recover.
“You getting off on the smell of all that blood, man?”
Nubbins feels a pull on the left of his face that’s got nothing to do with unpleasant feelings. He’d like to think he manages a smile, intrigued by the attitude on that man. There’s sweat in his eyes he got to blink away, turning the attempt at pleasantries into more like a grimace.
“I-It's a good smell.” He comments vaguely.
A girl from the front seat shares a look with meaning with Franklin, though Nubbins is left out of understanding it. His interest turns sour as the slaughterhouse floors when she says, even not directly to him, “Oh.. I don't like it.”
“I think we just picked up Dracula.” Franklin murmurs back.
Nubbins knows that isn’t nice. Don’t know what it means, but the way it’s said isn’t nice. He digs the ends up his fingers into the tender flesh around his scabs, tearing one open. Gotta make it to hurt when snide remarks just become backround noise. Heard ‘em so often the sting’s gone dull.
The other man here in the back talks and it takes Nubbins a moment to soak in his words, “Where you headed, man?”
“South.” Nubbins answers quickly. Ain’t safe to give more detail, just gotta get home.
Though Nubbins does crack a knowing smile when he realizes he’s thinkin’ ‘bout safety warnings, when he’s the one who is danger. Makes him seem pleasant.
Franklin makes a funny expression back with his eyebrows, squishing them all up, “You could have fooled me. I thought we were headed due north.”
Nubbins turns his stare on Franklin, but the words to respond doesn’t come right away. Mostly cause he ain’t sure which is being truthful, him or the wheelchair man. Been a long time out on them roads. Might’ve lost track of his direction.
Wouldn’t he get the whoopin’ of a lifetime if he went and got himself lost up.
But the other guy seems to think Franklin tells lies more, jutting towards him with his thumb, “He had a little accident- still doesn't know where he is..”
Until then, Nubbins hadn’t taken note of all the bruises and bloody lines on the man, sitting up straighter as his eyes trace over every last scrape and bump. Looks like big brother got a hold of Franklin too. If that was possible, maybe then Nubbins would’ve got somethin’ smart to say, but as is, he just stares and wonders.
While he’s lookin’ Franklin starts talkin’, askin’ up, “You work at that place?”
“N-No.” Nubbins answers simply, choking on a stutter while the rest of his brain catches up.
Don’t got a chance before the blonde girl gives him a new question, interrupting him so he’s got to think of a new answer all over and force himself to speak it, “How did you get stuck way out here?”
“I w-was at the slaughter h-house.” Nubbins’ voice feels like cotton in his throat. His little brother was right that he shouldn’t have broken the rules and gone out, the outside world already much too overwhelmin’ to his senses. Might help if all the folks in this van wasn’t starin’ at him so hard. Could tell them the truth, ‘at he was tradin’ with the old slaughterhouse, givin’ some of big brother’s vouchers to the men there who used to boss them around in trade for supplies and things.
Meat hooks, cattle irons, recipes, the like. Couldn’t get ‘em no place else to handle their own special kind of beeves. They’s lucky the old man of the slaughterhouse was Grandpa’s bestest friend in the world. ‘Ccepts them free gas and barbecue tickets like that’s any good enough, then pat Nubbins on his bony back and send ‘im back home on his way.
Stings his pride some, the pretendin’ to be civil after they sended him off with a pink card in his blood-stained hands. Him and little Bubba both. They was gonna let Grandpa and big brother stay, but they walked. And now Nubbins does all his walkin’, all over the roads, ‘cause the Sawyers gotta play niceys or they’ll get sniffed out.
His vagueness, the van folk don’t seem to like it much. Funny thing is those sour faces kill off any more words that might’ve been comin’.
The wheelchair man, Franklin, he ain’t in work either, understands the vengeful sorta shame Nubbins’ got boilin’ under his scratchy flesh.
“I have an uncle that works at a slaughterhouse.”
He’s good at that, at makin’ Nubbins feel like he already knows the inside of his head, so he makes sure to manage an answer, tell him a little on his family too, “M-My brother worked there, my g-grandfather… My family's a-always been in meat.”
It comes out punctuated by the tiniest laugh, satisfied with himself for being smart, knowing more than folks who thinks it’s the other way ‘round. Nubbins leans back some and wiggles his shoulders, working his pride into his physical self too, to burn off the happies before that becomes too much too and suffocated him whole.
Nubbins misses a second interaction between the Hardesty siblings in hushed tones, as much as they seem different from Nubbins hisself, they ain’t quite on the same page with one another either.
“Don't start talking about that place again..”
“A whole family of draculas..”
But Franklin can’t help himself. He liked the way the hitchhiker expressed things, the strange sort of lilt in his voice like he ain’t talked much to other people to know how inflection works. His batty eyes and flailing limbs, he might as well be some part cattle himself, escaped from the slaughterhouse and seekin’ refuge here. Hate to have to tell him the others wouldn’t be so keen on that. Might be best if that particular idea got lined up in the shoot.
“Hey man, did you go into the slaughter room or whatever they call it.. The place where they shoot the cattle with the air gun.” Franklin motions vaguely himself, wrists forming the air gauge and the bolt.
It wounds him some. Always said that automation was the thing put the Sawyers outta the business, but it ain’t true. Nubbins was a real good listener, better at that than talkin’ most times, hearing from around hushed whispers and corners in the house that it was him got them all the boot. His fit.
Had ‘em all his life, but actin’ that way was strictly against the rules at work. Drayton wouldn’t ‘llow it for a second. Always done his best, Bubba too, goin’ on pretend smoke breaks to just spin around in the fresh air and play together if the workin’ grew too much pressure.
‘Til a beeve kicked him in the chest. Made Nubbins get the jitters real bad, worked up over the pain and adrenaline and everyone ‘round him coming to stare. They was scared too, for the state of his ribs, ‘n all that was too much to handle. He’d just bounced a little at first, waving his arms around, sniveling some. Would’ve worked it all out on his own if it weren’t for a big noise. Metal hitting metal and then yelling for clearance and the beeves making their chuffing noises. Goin’ down the chute.
Nubbins only crouched down and covered his ears, but then he was yelled at for stopping work, and there’s blood in his hair cause his hands was still soaked from slittin’ a throat, so he lashed out. Cryin’ his eyes out, he swung for the boss’ face, slashed the big bowie knife they give him, and now there’s more screamin’ and he’s curled up in a ball, knees to his chest, again.
Big brother explained it away by sayin’ it was part of his condition in his brain, the same one Bubba’s got, so that was it. ‘Stead of things changin’ ‘round the slaughterhouse, Nubbins and Bubba had to go away. And the whole fam’ly followed.
“Yeh, it's nice, b-but the..the gun is-” He starts, face fallen serious and dull upon reflecting those memories.
At the same time, Franklin had started speaking. “I was there once with my uncle.”
“-is no good. The old way, w-with the sledge is better, they die b-better.” Nubbins finishes, looking up at Franklin when he realizes, slowly, that he talked over him. He flinches, just so, hopin’ to not gettin’ in trouble for that.
In a way he does, when the puffy haired girl on the floor gives her disgruntled opinion, “You like talking about morbid things.”
Big brother taught him to behave ‘round strangers, so as much as he’d like to, Nubbins don’t stick his tongue out at the girl or spit in her hair. He imagines it though, among worse things. Throwing her face down into the moving tires of this here van for example.
“How come? I thought the gun was better.” Franklin asks, bringing Nubbins back to the front of his head.
Which he shakes, messy hair slicked back with grease it don’t hardly move.
“No.. I li-like the old way better. A lot of p-people don’t got work now w-wit’ the new way.”
“You used to do that?” The dry haired man asks, but Nubbins doesn’t like the way he says it, somethin’ about the judgement from his lady pal seeping into his demeanor too.
Looking between them, Franklin notices and takes over, asking too, “You do that, man?”
“Yeh.. I-I was the killer. I don't d-do it no more.” Nubbins explains carefully.
“How come, man?” Franklin asks, but Nubbins doesn’t really wanna talk about that, so he doesn’t. Makin’ him would just lead to another fit.
When he come in the van, he’d really thought Franklin was gonna be the mean one, with his confusing comments right in Nubbins’ face, but now he thinks he’d be upset about sharin’ the unpleasant details. Doesn’t want a nice man to think of him that way.
Not while knowin’ he’s being talked about behind his back. The puffy haired lady leans to the other man, telling whispers that Nubbins can’t hear but they’s both looking right at him, thinkin’ he must be too dumb to know it.
“I can't believe he did that..”
“Now I'm an artist.. With the- the gun and knocking board they don't n-need me no more.” Nubbins turns away from the whisperers and tells it just to Franklin.
“You're an artist? Pam's an artist too. She’s really good.” The pretty blonde girl hums her words. Her voice is too sharp, all of it’s startin’ to make him fuzzy.
Nubbins slips his head to the side to look between her and that other pinched face lady. Makes him angry. Blondie’s under the mental tire too now, teeth knocked out of her tiny skull and scattered all over the road. Unknowingly to hisself, Nubbins’ eyes’ve gone unfocused, distant and empty while he’s in the torture chamber up in his skull.
“Hey..” Franklin says a bit too softly, understandin’ more than maybe anybody why bein’ compared to Pam could sting. If they all want so badly to group him in with the roadkill scented stranger, then he’ll take a little pride in that over bein’ another one of the non-political hippies. The type who think the world gets to be sunshine and rainbows so long as the whiny cripples like him stay hidden along with the other undesirables. Peace and love and only the good stuff.
The gentle voice sort of breaks Nubbins’ mind in two. Nobody talked to him that way in a long while, since throwin’ fits and scraped knees and tangled hair was still cute as a kid. It’s easiest to repeat himself, “Yeh.. I-I don't like it now. With the gun it’s no..”
They isn’t listening. Maybe Franklin is, since he’s still lookin’ that way, but the front seat blonde isn’t. She flicks her hair away from her shoulders and grills him, “Are you a painter or what? I know this crazy artist. He never knows what he's doing.”
“I work with uh.. l-leather. I'm a sculptor t-too.” The words just kinda tumble past his teeth without much awareness. Lucky he didn’t spit out the truth about workin’ in bones.
Sometimes his lonely just outweighs his angry. Makes him go actin’ foolish.
Franklin brings him back to him, with his fun voice, like a stinger’s buzz in his ears ‘stead of industrial grindin’, “Hey, man. I was in there. They had blood about up to...”
Delighted by somethin’, only ‘cause she’s obvious she’s already among the dead in Nubbins’ mind, the blonde laughs at more slaughterhouse talkin’, “Oh. I need one of those hammers for Jerry. He’s so hardheaded.”
They doesn’t wanna talk about Mr Jerry at the wheel, so they don’t. Jus’ like before. Nubbins starts to sees it that Franklin’s the way he is when he Franklin keeps on instead, “-your ankles covering this giant room. There were these big cow heads they had cut off sticking up out of the blood.”
Brings back Nubbins’ smile, “I-It's that way now.. Y-You liked it?”
“Sure. Lots of blood and guts. They dump all the entrails and heads and…” Franklin shrugs while he talks, bouncing about. The life he talks with keeps him firmly in the non-meat category in Nubbins’ mind. His energy’s as familiar as the subject.
Nobody ever liked those same things before. Franklin’s just special like that. For his troubles, the troubles of kindness towards someone awful through and through the way Nubbins is, he gets the reward of seein’ his pictures.
The critter pouch on his necklace fell inside his shirt while he was runnin’, gotta reach in to free it so he can show off his pictures. Older now and startin’ to wither some, he don’t let just anybody get they’s paws on these. But he hands them right over, proudly even, to Franklin.
Franklin who keeps on talking while Nubbins’ shakin’ the photos in his face. “..and stuff they don't use in one place and sell it to the glue factory or someplace like that.”
“Here.” He gives the permission, and Franklin finally goes and takes the pictures, the three yellowed ones that’s up for grabs.
One’s of the slaughter room, ankles deep in the blood just like he said. It’s from Nubbins lookin’ straight down, at the way it’s all pooled around him. Would be nice if they had a room like that at the house, but they isn’t allowed, gots to scrub the kitchen walls when they gets too splattery from the butcherin’. The picture though shows the heads of cattle cutted clean off their big ol’ bodies ‘n scattered about the room, just floatin’ along. That part Nubbins didn’t like so much, when they’d get left about like that. ‘Course that was the only pieces they was willin’ to send the Sawyers’ way for dirt cheap.
That first one’s his favorite, the other two more recently shot, noticeable right away ‘cause it shows the industrial equipments all around. The bolt and the gun and all that, the slicing up of the beeves. Ain’t his work so it ain’t his pride the same way. Just close documentation of what they says is more important. A gun over a retard.
But he’s smart! Knows more’n this lot, “They don't send the heads away.”
“Damn!” Franklin holds the photos away and down, like when big brother can’t see without his glasses, before bringing them right back up real close.
“Let me see.” The same irritating woman demands, but Franklin is inspecting them down to the gory details. Let fin’ himself be learned.
“Th-They make-” Nubbins tries to keep his attention held right there, casting the moment in gooey amber so it never goes nowhere.
“You took these, huh?” Franklin interrupts.
His enthusiasm and the pointy smile he gives is real enough Nubbins forgives him.
“Yes. Y-You like ‘em?”
.
“Franklin....” Blonde lady whines to see the photos, big bug eyes pleading with nobody who’s lookin’.
If Nubbins were more a little more observant, he’d note the jealousy from the girl, the way she sees him as some kind of strange adventure and not just a stranger. There’s danger in the way he smells and the crimson color hidden deep behind pale brown irises and the way his limbs clamber and pull. To her, a monster she can tempt into chasing her for the sheer thrill of it, in the safety of a group of people who know nothing of the way her morbid mind works.
Except maybe Franklin, and his fascination for those damned photographs he won’t let go.
The hitchhiker, as she knows him, inches forward, heels putting so much pressure on the ground his boots creak and flake off old material, so he can prop slightly up to gesture at the photographs.
Like he never left off, he continues his story, about the processes of the big house, violence radiating easily off of him, “They make head cheese.. E-Except for the tongue they b-boil the head, and scrape the b-bone clean of flesh. All the parts is used, n-nothin’ is wasted. The- The jowls, ‘n the eyes, even the m-muscles-“
“Ugh.” There's a groan from miss pretty, as she must realize, this kind of horror is all too real for her. He really had killed ‘em, over and over he had, and that’s too much for a little sheltered lady. Not for his friend though, nice Franklin.
Nubbins gets so worked up thinkin’ it, he’s talkin’ with his hands and rocking slightly, “and ligaments and the fleshy parts from the n-nose and gums- They put everythin’ into a jelly of f-fats!”
“Look at this.” Franklin urges, waving the blood picture in the face of the girl on the floor while Nubbins is still talking, keepin’ his eyes on the man now even with the photograph is moved away.
“..the f-fleshy parts from the nose and…”
This lady ain’t amused even in the slightest, slapping them away so much a new crease forms in the corner of Nubbins’ picture.
“Ugh.. You’re making me sick. Why do you like killing so much?”
Nubbins knows why.
Killin’ is a business, but they says if you get a job you like you don’t work a day in your life. Bringin’ blades across weak throats and feelin’ familiar warmth all up and down his body, smellin’ familiar smells and findin’ home in that. Home bein’ the little squirrely he found torn to bits by a coyote in the fields. Home bein’ the slaughterhouse once upon a time. Home bein’ with his brothers. Changes, but the reason don’t.
You do it to survive. And life is a gift. Mama and Gramma and Pa prob’ly too by now, they’s all gone. Big brother tells about how every one of them was sick as babies cause Mama didn’t stop her habits for a little bump on her tummy, comin’ out all kinds of messed up. They was never meant to live, skin kissed by the devil’s false affection on his right cheek to show it.
If he can’t be normal, can’t be loved, can’t be a ‘functioning member of society,’ -whatever that means- then he oughta either just be dead, or shake up the devil’s wishes. Nubbins chooses the second. Can’t be killed cause he fights to live and exchanges plenty of souls for his own. Gotta eat the meat and he gets another point from the heavens above to not end up in his early grave.
Likes doin’ it cause it’s a blessing so it makes him feel nice. Franklin, he must be smart enough to see that, gifted in his own way. The denim man said Franklin had an accident, and Nubbins sees those wheelies clear as day. That’s two mess ups. Figures whatever he’s been through, he can see death the same. Makes him truly special, not just on account of his niceness.
“-gums.. Th-They put e-everything into a jelly of fats!”
Nubbins shifts a hopeful gaze into Franklin’s, locking eyes while he scans for a sign that the other is being truthful when he says,
“Wow.. I didn't know that's what's in that stuff.”
“I-It's real good.. You like it?” His heart beats like some kind of a winged creature got swallowed up and lives in his chest. Important to him Franklin doesn’t reject the work, the gift.
First come the blondie girl, handing back the photos she’d taken straight from the hand that extended them into her friend’s face before. Along with it, more attitude, “Ugh..I don't see how anybody could eat that junk.”
Nubbins falters, shoulders slowly sinking down, bloat-air let out of him and stinkin’ up the already acrid van with disappointment.
Immediately Franklin sees that and gives his input a little bit louder, “Oh. I like it. It's good..”
Nodding, Nubbins lets him see more smiles instead of hiding it, a little wispy laugh following along. The creature in his chest turns into a whole colony of ‘em when Franklin hands his snapshots back with a returned nod. Even dumb old Nubbins knows that means he’s talkin’ to him, and not those others. He knows Nubbins knows he’s meant for slaughtering meat too.
Then he realizes the others must see it too. Prob’ly why they keep him from his legs workin’. Nubbins seen it before, what happens when the hacksaw breaks apart the rope down your spine. He’d bet anything they done that to Franklin, and he prolly don’t even know it. Grief joins the overwhelming joy in his body. It’s not just that they’re ignorant, airheaded little things just floatin’ on through their part of Texas and paying the angel’s price.
Their mean words and their dumb hearts, it’s all on purpose, weapons to keep them apart.
And they’s sharpenin’ their blades.
Pinchface girl covers her mouth with the back of her hand, but her eyes tell it all, the coldness there like lookin’ into two empty sockets.
“It sounds horrible.. Talk about something else.”
Sweet, unaware Franklin tries to light a match can burn away the tension, “Aw, you would prob’ly like it if you didn't know what was in it.”
Nubbins just knows if his brothers saw how really really smart Franklin could be, they’d let him keep him.
It’s a shame they’s outnumbered so bad, woulda been easier work if only one of the beeves was so mean and not all of ‘em. The same girl raises her hackles and her voice at the same time, actin’ like hunted prey just on account of bein’ around different folk. Weak.
“No I wouldn't and I wish you would quit.”
“Aw..” It hurts Franklin. Gotta toughen him up some, teach him the way to wrap himself in a shell of calcified rot and pure leather. Even if it had to be literal the way it did for little Leatherface, they could make Franklin masks too.
“Come on, Franklin, you're making everybody sick..” The floor man says scornfully.
Poor Franklin bows his precious curly head some, muttering, “Ok.. Ok…”
But his nature, that Nubbins knows is under there, comes out to play. Franklin, in his disappointment, sits glumly for a while. While the others stay quiet, Franklin brings out a little blade and starts toyin’ with it. Flicking it around like a butterfly blade, only it isn’t one. Nubbins can’t help but stare.
Franklin stops for a moment to dig under his nails with the knife, bringing Nubbins to imagine him popping each one off. Pop. Clatter. Screams. No need to waste that on Franklin when he ain’t the one that oughta be hurting. They’ll rip ‘em off of anyone else that gets in they’s way.
Noticing his affection and lettin’ it egg him on, or really just in his own fit, Franklin starts to work himself into a frenzy. Nubbins starts rockin’ a little harder in his mutual excitement over what they’s gonna be able do together. The thoughts in his head get so splatter sticky and cruel he starts to grind his teeth out loud. Puffy haired lady notices and openly points, no shame in her cruelty. Her beau just kind of shrugs, but he’s got disgust in his features just as clearly.
Nubbins can’t help using his rocking to urge himself forward, straining upwards against their judgemental glares towards Franklin. What he wants is to reach for that beautiful knife and show him just how to use it, but the plan is t’ get ‘em all home, feast on them together with Franklin ‘stead of scaring him off now. More giggles tear at his throat and bubble up without his permission.
The clueless driver interrupts and just ruins everything, “We're going to have to stop for gas fairly soon.”
“Th-There’s a place not far.” Nubbins remembers to answer. A big van-ful right into big brother’s lap, oh he’ll be so proud! Maybe he’d even spare Nubbins the beating for leavin’ the house with little brother all on his own again.
“Good enough.” Hums mister driver, no idea he’s fallin’ right into the trap.
See, Nubbins can be smart!
Only thing, he’s got to make sure Franklin ain’t wheeled right into the cattle pens too. He stares at Franklin intently, hoping naively if he looks long enough, he won’t ever have to go away.
Conversation or not, the stare is what brings Franklin out of the tiny fit he sunk into when he was toying with that blade of his. Now Nubbins gets a real good idea. Family is made from blood. Sharin’ his blood with another man would make him family too, share the mark right along with the name, a virgin’s sacrifice of sorts.
Nubbins finally snatches up the old blade.
The floor couple stares and gasps and shifts around warily, but they don’t mean nothin’ to no one. This is Franklin’s knife. And Franklin, though a little startled from the way his mouth falls a little bit open, watches with intense curiosity. Won’t tear those eyes away for nothin’. Nubbins closes the blade in his hand, gettin’ a good look at the whole thing, bubbly laughter piercing his own ears in a detached kinda way as he presses the silver spring button and the blade springs open again.
Slowly and on purpose-like, he puts the blade against the fleshy part of his hand, below the thumb and over his thick palm. Nubbins looks up to make absolutely sure Franklin is watchin’ what he’s doin’ for him. Blood is a real valuable resource afterall.
The blade sinks nice into his flesh. Kinda dull, the fibers pulling apart one at a time instead of all at once. His blood comes out real slow and dark, his new wound aching in a way that makes touching the cool blade feel nice ‘n soothing. Franklin is awed, eyes wide and alive instead of turned away.
Nubbins thinks sometimes that he ain’t a creature of the flesh, but the dealer. The trader. He’s the killer. Doesn’t wanna hear the various calls of distress, when even the front seat couple take notice. Keeps his smile good and fixed on his face so they don’t know it pinches at his chest some to be screamed at and not act out back.
“What are you doing!?”
“Put that knife away.”
“What did you do to yourself?”
Flexing his palm, Nubbins finds Franklin’s gaze again, to reassure him in one way that a reaction ain’t necessary. Remembers this was all for him, the exchanging of the blood, so he extends the knife back up to him, tilting the blade upwards some so he don’t have to grab it. Not yet.
And Franklin takes it.
The blood, the wound, it’s starting to dry up and panic nips at the edges of relief. Like if he lets it go away then Franklin will change his mind. He puts his hand into his mouth and bites down hard on the cut, making it gush again.
Blonde lady grimaces at him somethin’ fierce, “Ugh. How can you do that!?”
It’s real easy. He could show her. Franklin’s still lookin’ real hard at his knife, so Nubbins brings out his own. That trusty straight razor from inside his boot. Wants to carve a more pleasant expression onto Blondie’s face an’ show her exactly how simple it is.
“This is making me sick. Can't we let him off somewhere?” The puffy haired one asks quietly. Silly her not knowing this blood means that ain’t never gonna happen.
Not caring that it’s gonna scare her, he waves the razor some, “I-I have this k-knife.”
“You can put that one away too.” The beau that matches scared girl chides.
“It’s a good knife.” Nubbins promises, but returns it quietly to his boot when he sees they ain’t willing to reach out and lose a few fingers. Oh well, since it ain’t supper time yet, he can be patient.
His mind drifts off from himself in the wait, his stare fixing straight forward and landing on the girl up there. He can feel eyes on him, and cold blood on his skin, but he can’t quite snap out of it. Best to let it ride over. Fighting it just makes him go into a bigger upset.
Franklin, in turn, is staring right at Nubbins, that same morbid fascination written all over his expression. Can’t understand why he’s not afraid like the others. All his life he’s known little kids to point and ask why he’s using a chair for old folks, had peers gawk at him when he gets one of his spells and panics. Somethin’ about his trouble bein’ both physical and mental that turned him jaded in a lot of way.
Gullible, sure, in that he believed his sister when she said he’d have fun today, but never fully trusting. Like he’s always waiting for betrayal. Maybe that’s just it, that he ain’t all that surprised his hitchhiker friend turned out to be a little off his rocker. Better than secretly resenting Franklin, or spitting in his supper ‘fore handing it to him, or playin’ tricks on him.
It’s only after a little while of that reflection, that he notices the hitchhiker don’t got eyes on him, or care he was accidentally staring. He’s likewise staring at Sally, who herself notices both of them looking and turns. Her face is suddenly marred by discomfort, a smile that doesn’t even look quite like a good pretend one.
That shouldn’t make Franklin more uneasy than a stranger’s blood all over the knife in his pocket. But fake Sally means: “Of course you can come, Franklin, you’re my brother.” which means “Oh is he finished whining yet?” and “Again? Really?” and “It's been a bad day for you, hasn't it? Poor Franklin.” All which leads to him tumbling ass over end off a hill, and of course he’s gonna take more issue with that.
Instead of getting his knife out again to fidget with, figuring that’s just a recipe for disaster all over the place, he taps his hands on the arm rests of his wheelchair. The movement, and the dull plasticky sound of it, seems to reverberate into Nubbins’ head and pull him out of his little daze.
His eyes blink and drag ‘round slowly around, between Jerry and Sally now. Just from the clues he’s gotten so far he’s starting to make connections about the group, trying to piece together what the mess they’s gonna deal with later on will be like.
“This girl is your wife.” He questions eventually, making vague little motions with his hands.
The girl on the floor taps mister driver to get his attention, “Jerry..”
“Oh. Uh..no. My friend...my girlfriend.” Jerry sputters out stupidly. Nubbins would like to poke him with needles and rip out his hairs and see if he sounds goofy like that when he screams and begs.
His eyes light up but drift away again, knowing he has to wait for that fun. A pink freckled face greets him. Miss blondie don’t like bein’ talked about. Startin’ to understand why she’s always whining to get her hands on things, cause she’s spoilt for attention. The favorite like baby brother, without the special reason of her messed up face or lack of speakin’.
Keeps her clueless and plump, like big brother would say, but this one is curious and too skinny. Might be better just to do away with her, not take away one scrap off, ‘cept maybe her face. Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for the youngest, showin’ off this new face he can takes and turn into a mask. He’d just love that.
“Th-That's good.. She's a good girl.”
“Thank you?” She says like she doesn’t get it, shiverin’ like there’s worms goin’ down in her shirt and she’s squirming away from ‘em.
Maybe the hair is too long for little brother’s taste. No use in peelin’ the skull jus’ to throw it all out. Could sell her down at the station instead, replace some of that awful meats they won’t eat and the customers don’t enjoy much neither with sweet and tender flesh. Could get rich off it and go back to slaughtering any real piggies that comes their way with a nice side of luxury.
Just the thought makes him ball his fists and shake them, too full of all these ideas it’s starting to seep out and take up all the space in the van.
The piggyest of the bunch, he don’t wanna eat. Franklin needs to be alive to listen, and share knives with, and talk to Nubbins real nice like he does. They can fatten him up on that headcheese he likes all they wants, but ain’t nobody gonna do the killing of his Franklin ‘less he says.
The Cook can sell blondie, but then Bubba needs somethin’ to sweeten the deal too.
He shifts to the other little lady all balled up on the van floor, takes note she’s got brown eyes like his bubba’s, and a tinker-bell bracelet he’d just love on her wrist. Comes free with clippies in her hair and pretty pale skin, and he knows she’s the one he oughta keep in one piece.
“You're a nice girl too..”
“Thanks.. You're a nice guy..” This girl responds robotically to him, without lookin’ in his face. Nubbins might be retarded but he ain’t stupid. ‘Course that means she don’t like him. Scared of catchin’ what he’s got.
What he wants is to stick his tongue out at her, slash his knife across her stupid face and chest ‘til she’s got blood in her eyes and she’s thrashin’ like a dyin’ cattle. His bubba would be so upset if he brought him a lady like that and wasted the face, and then he’d kill Franklin right back, and they’d got nothin’ but skinny girl meat goin’ to waste and everyone would be upset. Let little lady be mad, but he ain’t gonna let this plan go to waste.
Not even if he’s got to bite on the insides of his cheeks to make it happen, the focus.
Franklin leans back into his line of vision, looking so concerned and eager he might get sick everywhere.
“We're all nice..”
“Yeh.. Y-You're all nice.” Nubbins repeats with a smile, scooting on his haunches to get closer to Franklin again, so close his outstretched limbs is able to brush against his. All the while he’s pretty sure now Franklin can tell what he’s thinkin’, what with the way he’s so good at keepin’ Nubbins on track and calm. Throws him a bone so he knows he’s not the one chosen to become meat. “B-B-But you got them w-wheels.”
“What difference does that make?” Franklin barks, absolutely horrified. He looks down at his own paralyzed legs and back up at Nubbins over and over, mouth open and silly lookin’. Only a real expert like Nubbins might’ve heard the high crackle in his voice when emotion almost slipped past, but even he missed it.
Got distracted by the resurgence of the blade Franklin pulls from his pocket again to toy with until his upset passes. His mouth goes all dumb and quiet again instead of promisin’ he won’t kill Franklin. That’s gotta be why he’s got messed up legs too, so’s he can’t run and he can’t go and mess things up. They’s the perfect pair. Half can’t make his mouth form words, the other can’t move. They’ll fill it in and be one whole person together.
All his life Nubbins just knowed he couldn’t be cut out for love like Gramma and Grandpa got. They was lucky they both was hunters already, neither one turned out by the other covered in gore and shooting a person straight in the back of the skull. Could take up the killing business together.
Hasn’t been one like that since. Mama never had no men and her boys never had no daddy in the picture. They was on their own so long, on their stuffy old farm with stuffy old brothers and nothin’ to do all the day away but work, and workin’ is killin’. But not if he got wheels.
Franklin ain’t edible, can’t be with all that metal, and that means maybe he ain’t a killer too, ‘specially not yet no how. So he’s a third thing, just like Grandpa was when he stumbled onto Gramma’s piece of land with every intention to kill her and ended up tied down in her storage barn and married within months instead.
If he gets his Frankie on that path, he’s takin’ what God gived it to him. He just really, really hopes he’s given the permissions to keep Franklin. God ain’t nothin’ compared to an angry brother and his good leather belt.
Franklin is currently taking down one more button on his shirt to reveal more untouchable, ‘probably too tough to eat flesh, and fannin’ himself off, “It's hot in here..”
That’s silly to Nubbins cause it’s hot everywhere in Texas. “Where do you come f-from?” He asks with a small snort of laughter.
“We been to Colorado, New Mexico. Kind of a vacation, looking for land too.” Franklin tells him, waving his hand here and there. Doesn’t seem to like it much.
“Doing a little skiing.” Floor man adds on, explaining the big sword looking things leaning against the back wall in this little van. All the junk ain’t good junk, the nasty, clunky, plastic store bought garbage is all they gots. It’s startin’ to close in on Nubbins and suffocate him with a life he doesn’t live.
Feels harder to make sense.
“I mean w-where do you l-live?”
“Oh.. Houston. We’re all from Houston.” Franklin gives him a smile and it ain't like the girl’s, it’s gentle and bright and silly.
While he talks, Nubbins starts rocking forwards and back, and shaking about his wrists some more, flapping like the excited bird he is and feels on the inside. Franklin is just so so smart tellin’ him what he needs to know and that’s all. So he keeps asking questions. “Your p-parents live there too?”
“What? Oh, yeah..” Franklin gives a dismissive shrug, prob’ly don’t want to talk about it.
Maybe they’re like Nubbins’ parents and disappeared away, and he’s all alone. Or maybe they’re like big brother and get mean easy, beatin’ on the poor guy even though his legs doesn’t work. That’s prob’ly worse than anythin’ he been through. At the end of the night, Franklin ain’t running away to go burn off his frustration by kickin’ some roadkill around.
Just a shame that Nubbins don’t realize the only reason he’s still in the van allowed near Franklin is on account of he’s viewed the same way. The difference is a lot to someone who’s willing to consider it, but to the others, they’re both just crazy and annoying and easy to laugh at. Clowns for just existing.
Nubbins nods his head towards blondie, “A-And this girl.”
“What about Sally?” Franklin asks, miffed that they’re changing the subject again. He’d like to just grab this hitchhiker and scream in his face that the others don’t care about him. They never will, don’t waste your time on it.
Maybe he’d do the same for him and keep him from goin’ on another one of these stupid road-trips where he just sits around and watches. Kirk had been bragging with the skiing, showing off the poles so he could feel tougher than the guy with no qualms on using a knife. But no mention of leaving Franklin on his own while they done it. The “Sorry, Franklin. We planned this a long time ago, we never thought you’d come along at the last minute.” Like that’s even what happened.
Apparently paralyzed is s’posed to mean deaf too, ‘cause he heard very well what Kirk said when they was walking away to climb that stupid hill. “Someone oughta take one of these and shove it somewhere that it’ll put him out of our misery.”
Franklin was so mad he vomited in the snow they were skiing on. Thought about wheeling off somewhere and forcing them to come and find him and then they’d feel real sorry. ‘Til he realized they probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone. Sally, if she wasn’t distracted would, but they’d do just about anything to keep Sally from sticking up for her brother, and eventually it worked and she didn’t even try no more.
She now laughs at the hitchhiker asking them questions, “What? What about me?”
“Where are y-your parents?” Nubbins asks, sounding very polite, in contrast to his wolfish smile.
“Where are my parents?” She repeats, looking like she wants to laugh in his face some more, cruelty leaving its ashen tint on her questioning tone.
“Yeh.” Nubbins confirms, maybe naively. Maybe knowing she’s not interested in talkin’ niceties with a man she thinks is just some pawn in her adventure game.
This time she does bark a harsh laugh at him. Franklin knows his own face gets a little hot and red from the embarrassment of remembering folks laughing at him that way, treating him like an attraction. Part of him hopes the hitchhiker just won’t notice, maybe he’s been so sheltered up all his life he doesn’t realize the bully Sally and her friends can be when they wanna. Unlikely.
“What kind of question is that? Where are my parents. How should I know? My mother's probably about half drunk on martinis and my father’s probably playing golf. Where are yours?” Her hair swishes around and her head bobbles while she speaks, defensive in a way that just screams ‘who is letting this freak talk to me?’
“I-I mean where do they l-live?” The hitchhiker has to clarify again. He’s licking his lips and rolling up his shoulders in a way that it’s obvious he’s bothered, frustrated maybe. Holding down some kind of reaction.
“What does he want to know all that stuff for? We don't even know him.” Franklin hears Pam whisper to the side.
And Kirk’s louder, uninhibited response. “How should I know?”
Couple of gossips, really a whole group of them. The flush of embarrassment turns to anger for the poor hitchhiker. Franklin prays to the Lord above that if his mind ever leads him to wander and hurt himself that way, cutting into his own flesh andcsmiling about it, that a kinder group would happen to stumble upon him than this. Sorta puts into perspective how shitty they can be, makes him feel stupid for coming along at all.
Sally doubles back and answers his question anyhow, despite clearly hearing her friends discussing whether it’s a good idea or not. “Oh, where do they live? In Houston. They live in Houston.. Why?”
“Do- Do they know you’ coming t-to Houston?” Nubbins is busy assessing the situation on his own to notice what they think of him. Five is a lot to handle, never done a group that big all at once before without his brothers right on hand beside him. Important to know if somebody gonna come looking in their freezers in a day or two ‘fore they can hunt and slaughter and break down all that meat.
“Who told you we were going to Houston?” The driver guy asks skeptically. Whether it’s the failing engine or his suspicious driving, the van lurches around some.
When Nubbins motioned to who exactly did told him, that skip in the forward trojectory knocked him forward. He ends up with his hand resting fully on Franklin's pinstriped knee, and he don’t make an action to move it, “This man..”
“Let's tell him we can't take him any further when we stop for gas..” Miss puffy hair rambles quickly, not remembering to control her volume from her fear over Franklin being touched.
So Nubbins hears her loud and clear and counters, “M-My home is- is close to this road. Y-You could take me there.”
After getting a harsh nudge, the floor man speaks up, “Well, man.. I don't know. We're In pretty much of a hurry.. How far is it from the highway?”
“Oh, it’s r-real close.” And it’s true this time! They’s only another ten or so minutes out from the station at this speed if they keep it up, and that’s only another five from the house.
Back in the day, before he knew the routes by heart, Nubbins would walk the paths and count the seconds, the minutes, the footsteps it took until it was all in his bones. Drivin’ it by car is even quicker, though he usually ain’t so lucky to get carried there. Most ‘ the time they don’t pick up hitchhikers no more. Or it’s just him.
Does they all think he’s a Dracula?
“Couldn't you just walk? I mean.. if it’s so close.” Blondie talks like she regrets opening her mouth the second she done it. As she should with them awful manners.
“Y-You.. You could have supper with us!” Nubbins offers, increasingly desperate the more it seems like they ain’t gonna take him up on it, ruining just everything. It’s all gonna domino down and crush him flat like a box truck come at him full speed. His only friend in this, he singles out Franklin, “You like h-head cheese, m-my brother m-makes it good.. he always got some.”
Franklin doesn’t get the chance to speak before he’s being talked over by Blondie and her fake gagging, “Not that stuff you were talking about a while ago.. Ugh..”
“I think we better-push on, man. Sorry.” The shaggy looking guy mutters but it’s directed at Nubbins. They knows well they been mean, ashamed to look him in the face, and Nubbins don’t like it not one bit.
He shrugs it off, but his posture is so sunk in and he’s so silent, ain’t no way you couldn’t tell he’s upset. A bump in the road makes his camera clang against his ribs, givin’ him a real good idea. Nubbins raises it up and teases, laughing as he pretends to zero in on a target though he already got the perfect one in mind, aiming right at Franklin who is still just kinda absent. There’s a flash of light as the old, burnt-up flashbulb pops. Franklin looks up at it startled, but smiles, maybe automatically, a little vague, when he sees the camera.
“You took my picture.” Franklin sounds all outta breath just like Nubbins was when he runned to the van. The picture gonna help to connect them.
Under the sun, under the flash bulb, s’about the same thing. ‘Cause Nubbins don’t normally takes pictures of the living. Likes ‘em better as butchered pieces-parts for a bigger collage. Now Franklin he gotta stay this good way, startled and flushed and smilin’ just a little.
“Yeah.”
Nubbins pulls the photograph from the camera and peels apart the sheet. His film, it’d gone rotten a long time ago, the print comin’ out old and dark and discolored lookin’. Still he extends it to Franklin, only Franklin got the right to see it after all. Wants him to be proud of it. Needs it maybe.
“It didn't turn out so good.” Franklin remarks, squinting to see his own face.
“No. I-It’s nice, see -” Nubbins snatches at the photo but let’s Franklin keep looking, pointing to every detail that is his favorite to prove it’s alright. Namely the bruises and bloody scrapes, “It t-tells about your a-accident.”
A few comments float around the van:
“You look worse for wear.”
“I think you look nice.”
But blonde girl starts complaining again and makin’ it all ‘bout her, when Nubbins don’t care none about that.
“Let me see.”
Franklin extends it back towards her and gives a little warning that quicks up Nubbins’ heart, ‘cause his mind got changed about it turning out bad, “It’s kind of dark, but you can see my face.”
With girl gone, Nubbins leans forward.
What he wants, is Franklin’s word that he gonna behave and ain’t get himself killed durin’ dinner when they come. He’ll settle for a different way of tellin’ it.
“Y-You can p-pay me now.”
Franklin blinks away a mental fog but still can’t make no sense of this, “Huh?”
“Two dollars.. I-It's a good picture.”
Nubbins is nodding and giggling, can’t help himself ’cause he thinks this is it, that Franklin’s gonna understand fine what he’s got to do. His joy is met with blank faced confusion, but that’s better than discontent.
Or anger, like that he gets from the denim man.
“You want him to pay you for that picture?”
Blondie joins in the convincing, trying to ruin everything, selfish selfish girl trying to make Franklin mad at him, “It's not really a very good picture of you.”
“Not for two dollars anyway.” The floor man agrees.
“Two dollars?” Blondie asks, like she’s clueless.
Nubbins knows they’re tryin’ to corner him and narrows his eyes, holds out an expectant hand, trying to call her bluff, “Yehh. Y-You can buy it for him.”
“Hey, man, that’s enough.” The other guy barks, ordering Franklin around instead of letting him have a say, “Give him back the damn picture.”
Immediately Franklin returns the photo, and Nubbins can tell his hands have started shaking. Poor, weak Frankie let them boss him ‘round like that. Now he’s startin’ to fidget nervously again. Comparing that to his smile in the photo, which Nubbins stares at for a long moment, makes him a little sad ‘at his joy had to go.
Ain’t much room for it in this stuffy, closed-windowed world.
They keep talking about him, up in the front seat.
“That guy wanted Franklin to pay him 2 dollars for that picture.”
“You're kidding.”
“No. He was serious.”
Nobody ever asked a peep about what Franklin thought, or what he wanted. Now he’s got this little frown on and Nubbins knows it’s cause he’s scared to show the big feelings that get caught in there.
Havin’ a little brother meaned Nubbins seen all this play out before. Livin’ it was one thing, ‘n hearin’ big brother complain about the old times added to it sure, but nothin’ compared to watchin’ a miserable creature. Pinned down by its little deformed wings and screamin’ and cryin’ over invisible pain. They heads is sick, even Franklin, and the others ain’t kind to that.
Nubbins got a real good way to burn it off.
Some kind of a trash can or somethin’ is flipped over on its top like a pedestal, where he places the photo. His pouch gots a small bundle of ‘luminum foil, and a tube of gun power. He lays it out so the picture’s layin’ on its back in the foil, a little cone of the powder on top with a dip in the middle. Makin’ sure they’re watchin’, Nubbins gives a smile and a small giggly laugh, then strikes a match off his boot.
They know what he’s gonna do ‘fore he does it, but they still start screamin’ anyhow when it bangs and makes a big flash of light, burning up in fire. Smoke wafts off it while he crumbles it up inside the foil, crushing the air out of the fire so it goes out, and shovin’ it back into the pouch.
The driver man brakes hard and veers the van to the side of the road, sending all the riders forward violently except Franklin, who cracked his head off the seat behind him.
All of them start hollering over each other while Nubbins giggles at himself delightedly. Big brother woulda said he oughta be more careful, and maybe he’d ‘a been right in the case of gettin’ Franklin on his side. It’s just he can’t help havin’ fun!
“What? What?”
“What happened?”
“Hey! Damn.”
“HEY, man!”
“Roll down the window!”
Nubbins doesn’t flinch when a ski pole is shoved right in his face like a weapon. His knife is still sharper than some plastic lookin’ stick, and no fella afraid of a little fire gonna do the deed of shovin’ that thing past flesh and muscle into his vulnerable guts. Ain’t man enough.
“I've had enough, man. Time for you to go.” The guy with the ski pole warns, before turnin’ to call over his shoulder, “Jerry, stop this thing..”
It ain’t nice, but he’s losin’ control which means he’s losin’ Franklin too and that ain’t good. Can’t happen. They’s s’posed to be in this together, and more, part ‘a the same family. Betrotheds. Not the ones wanderin’ with no connection, not the mean folks. So long as he can find him again, they’ll fix it to be just right as rain. Even let Franklin carve into the one tryin’ to quiet him up if it come to that.
One half of the blood exchange been done already, with his on Franklin’s knife. Before he stands to haul ass out of the slowing down van, he snatches up his razor and flips it open, grabbing Franklin by his wrist and dragging the blade across. His blood bubbles when it comes out from all the pulling back and forth they’re doin’, and he squeals and sobs as the knife tears into him jaggedly.
Nubbins licks a crack in his lip instead of the blood from Franklin’s wound, though he’d like to see what he tastes like. Figures somethin’ like wood smoke and bitter forest berries. Somethin’ real special like a homemade pie, hold the mincemeat.
They’ll have time for that later; the ski pole guy goes for him, but tumbles back when the van lurches again and slows down to a real stop this time. Nubbins drags the door open and hops out while it’s still coasting, keeping his eyes locked with Franklin through the windows. He’s bleeding from his arm all over the place, his sister kneeling to bandage him and his friends shouting behind the closed door. But he won’t tear his eyes away from Nubbins. Can’t.
They’s covered already, relationship locked in by their tethers between their worlds, but to make sure the van don’t get lost, Nubbins rips open his palm again with his teeth and marks the side of it with his blood, pickin’ a good familiar shape so even big brother might notice it when they stops for gas up the road. Flashes one last grin Franklin’s way.
Kicking the tires, scrawling the family crest right onto the green paint, it’s perfect. Nubbins would be excited if he wasn’t realizing his own hurt by the way they throwed him out.
Speeding away means he can’t see his captive Franklin anymore, ‘n for a minute he tries to keep up. Running after and blowin’ raspberries to not lose his mind with this upset.
Until he’s sure they can’t see him no more. Then Nubbins just falls where he stands, curling his knees into his chest and hiding his face in them. His sad is anger. Teeth grit together and fists balled up, and he’s hitting the back of his head, over and over, ‘til sweat runs past his hair and he has to stop ‘n check to make sure it ain’t blood.
It’s salty tears in some places too. Feels stupid for cryin’ ‘em. Nubbins had somethin’ real special goin’ with Franklin, but them others was just mean. A thousand bodies ain’t make up for the hurt in his heart every ought time another person goes by and they’s mean to him.
But they’s all gonna get their due. Marked ‘em good, so they ain’t ever gon’ make it to Houston. Only one survivor, on Nubbins’ terms, ‘cause he’s certain now he ain’t nothin’ typical. He’s the killer.
#tcmfanevent#tcmdisabilityweek#tcm 1974#nubbins sawyer#franklin hardesty#franknub#my writing#my fic#tcm fanfic#basically a whole almost 10k fic of nubbins rambling what more could y’all ask for
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okay I’m so curious about the short fic you posted yesterday
can I ask how in this universe nina dies? And does eddie too?
(it’s mask of anubis on main btw)
ooh fun questions!! i was hoping someone would ask cuz i couldn't figure out how to work it in. also i added way too much info that you didnt ask for so now it's under the cut :D
first of all, this au is a much darker take on how i think nina's life "actually" played out – I think she'll always have random spirits coming up to her etc, but in this au, it's pretty constant and can get very dangerous very quickly. on the flip side, she sees a lot more fame for her "irl" work than she does "in canon" (see below).
somewhat ironically (given how guarded nina becomes from the constant barrage of gods forcing her to do things), she makes her living off of writing movies about her experiences. i think she does this in canon too, but here she really throws herself into it, almost like a form of therapy since there isn't really any professional she can process things with, you know? she eats, sleeps, breathes her craft – whenever she has downtime, she's writing, editing, networking to get her words out there. she's so fast and so talented with it that she graduates university in three years with honors, by which time the chosen one (season 1) has already been picked up by a major company and has started filming; she wins her first oscar two years later, and the next two each year after that.
(actually, all four scripts got picked up at the same time, which is why the turnaround was so quick – but they didn't announce the sequels until after the oscars because at that point she was a relatively unknown person)
(also i know this isn't how these things work irl but just work with me here. maybe she called in a favor from a random god and had things sped along idk)
anyway, the point im trying to make is that she spends her whole life balancing what she wants to do (her work) with what she has to do (paragon shit) and has a weird sense of self-worth as a result (she knows she's good at what she does, but wants to hide it from the world at the same time (out of fear). she hates that she needs others to keep her safe and refuses to believe they're doing it out of kindness, even though she also knows that they genuinely love her. it's weird) (also she and fabian make up sometime during their uni years so all is good there)
anyway, they (amber + KT) set up a rota of all ex-sibuna members (+ willow as she learns about it pretty quickly post-grad) to spend time in the states for a couple months out of the year each. this essentially made sure there was always 1 other person on the mission with her and 2 people nearby who knew where they were going, should things go wrong and they need rescuing or something. but for small/random tasks, nina would just do those alone.
her last mission (that fabian alludes to) had taken months to complete: three formerly-benign ghosts had been "turned" by a magician up in canada, released from the underworld, and, driven mad by the magic (and confusion of being back in the real world), had started a series of freak thunderstorms across the american midwest. together with jerome, she had to figure out how they got released, stop the magician, construct the device necessary to trap the spirits and send them back, and use said device to stop the storms. the effort had completely exhausted her (so much so that she – making headlines – decided to take a step back on touchstone production, instead of hanging out on set like she did for the other three)
(that's why tor is the way it is. with her dropping off of the face of the earth, someone decided – while she couldn't argue against it – to absolutely slash the budget, which lead to a mess of a story (screenplay is the only oscar it wins)
nina's death (as alluded to in the article) really seemed out-of-the-blue. basically, she was on a mission – alone – that suddenly and very unexpectedly turned dangerous. but when she was found (by KT and amber together) it looked like she just collapsed at home – there was no indication of any foul play or anything, really, of how she died.
also alluded to in the article, but a lot (but not all) of KT's "investigative journaling" was her covering up the consequences of nina's missions with theories that would make sense to the general public. nina's last request of her was to halt any investigation into her death prematurely as she knew things would unravel pretty quickly otherwise
joy's role in nina's life was mainly to book her for enough public-facing events/etc so that people wouldn't question where she was when she "disappeared" for a month or two, as well as act as her social media manager/"source close to her" to tabloids during extended absences so people continue to think she's okay. this was especially important given nina's monumental rise to fame (and as a screenplay writer, at that! usually it's the actors/directors who get most of it!) and her relatively young age, which meant she got herself a fandom very quickly…and we all know what the rumor-spreading capabilities of stan twitter are like. there were quite a few times nina came back from a mission to find several "new" pics on her instagram or that shes going viral for something she doesn't "remember" saying lskdjf
amber's role was to media-train the hell out of nina so she never gives any indication that a) there's an element of truth in her work; b) she lives a double life; and c) weird things keep happening in the cities she happens to frequent (eg random buildings falling, artifacts disappearing, etc). we all know this girl can't lie to save her life…amber is nothing but a miracle-worker in that regard lol
as for eddie – his death is basically the reason things are so awful, now. he actually dies at the end of tor, and not only does osiris himself blame nina for it (using "logic" that can rival senkhara's in s2), but it also leaves nina terrified since she no longer has a protector – something all the other gods/spirits quickly take advantage of (threats/blackmail/etc) for the first few years, by which time word of her willingness to do anything spreads and she can't get rid of the constant requests. it doesn't help that his death also proved to them that nina (like her counterpart) can, and will, sacrifice herself to save the world, if it came down to it, making her the perfect pawn in a lot of schemes.
#asks#your-favorite-fruit#house of anubis#i love love love getting questions like this thank you!!!#my writing#myposts
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free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv
shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy
2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k
god, i love musicals.
(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)
once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship
but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!
part three fic masterlist part five
While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.
Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.
Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.
The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.
We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.
Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)
My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.
He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.
As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.
Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.
Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.
So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.
If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.
So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.
The same could not be said for her.
~
Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.
With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.
This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.
Did they plan something?
She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.
He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.
All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.
Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.
If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.
Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.
She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.
When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.
The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.
Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.
“How did you-”
But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.
“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.
This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.
“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.
“A world of your own-”
“-where you can be free!”
“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”
“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.
“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.
She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.
~
What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.
She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.
The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.
She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.
“Terrible shame what-”
“Florence?”
Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.
Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”
“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.
“Hi, Felix.”
Silence.
Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.
“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.
For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.
“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”
They didn’t move.
She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.
Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.
The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.
“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”
“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”
“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.
Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.
“...My family?”
“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”
…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.
They haven’t-
“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”
“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it’s the same way for me!”
This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.
“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.
“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”
“I…”
Tears blurred her vision.
“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”
For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.
Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.
She’d lost him.
She’d never truly had him to lose.
But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.
After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.
“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”
What?
Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.
“Wait-wait, no, I-”
“Wren-”
She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-
“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”
“Wren-”
“Let me-”
“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”
“WREN!”
The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.
All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.
They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.
Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.
This is not over.
#fiytwtb#wonka movie#wonka 2023#wonka#willy wonka x reader#timothée chalamet#timothee x reader#timothee chalamet fic#timothee chalamet fanfiction#timothee chalamet#wonka x reader#timothée chalamet x reader#wonka fanfiction#wonka fanfic#mat baynton#mathew baynton#mathew baynton x reader#mat baynton x reader
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I thought the failed transplant would cap off Day's character arc-- a final plot point he had to work on to be the best verion of himself, as the protagonist of a story is wont to have.
I didn't expect it would be part of Mhok's character arc instead. And I'm actually very satisfied with how the screenplay framed it.
I saw someone post on the tag a few weeks back that they wished Mhok would start to unpack his own emotional baggage soon-- separate from Day and his (admittedly) difficult journey. Considering that Mhok also suffered heavy trauma (and is also in need of therapy-- where did all the therapists in bls go? For a hot minute every show was mentioning it, and now nothing), it would be wise for a well-thought out narrative to flesh out Mhok's backstory. I appreciate the character consistency for both protagonists when Day's permanent loss of vision became more difficult for Mhok to process than for Day himself, as the latter losing all hope would unravel all the progress Day worked through since episode 1 (and wouldn't make much sense from a chronological perspective). The only remaining character who wasn't able to process loss in this narrative was Mhok (Night and Porjai were given time to process their losses. Day's parents had a minute to do so, too. Heck, even August). Mhok has been there for other people's journeys but never for his own, and I understand why he needs to do this alone, too.
Day was holding him back. Day became a safety net for Mhok-- a replacement for the family he lost, a focus for all the love and attention Mhok couldn't give to anyone else, and a chance to redeem Mhok's character in a way that is acceptable for Mhok himself. But Day is none of those things, and it's unfair for Day (and for Mhok too) to make Day a soulless, passionless foil that only waits for Mhok to come home and give him attention so that his partner can feel good about himself (the scene where Day waits for Mhok to come home each night while watching tv in the room all day actually broke my heart a little. It too-closely mirrored the scenes where Day was back in his own house under the care of his neurotic mother-- safe, seemingly content, but purposeless altogether. Day is such a strongly driven character, and each episode I keep hoping that Day could pour out all his passion for something other than his boyfriend).
So in a way, Mhok was holding Day back, too. The codependency became unhealthy not because of mistrust or miscommunication, but because both characters simply had no room to process their trauma without relying on each other.
There are some burdens that only we can carry, and we can't load off on other people. Mhok like Day's mother, has to accept that he can't control the fates and choices of other people, only his own.
So no matter how much I absolutely HATE the overused breakup trope in bls, I think in this instance, it is warranted.
This got long but I had to reassure myself that this was the right direction for the series.
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It Ends with Us (2024)
This is a Movie Health Community evaluation. It is intended to inform people of potential health hazards in movies and does not reflect the quality of the film itself. The information presented here has not been reviewed by any medical professionals.
It Ends with Us has no cause for concern with flashing lights, and is free of any strobe effects. This film is joining our list of photosensitivity-safe films, which is pinned to the top of our Facebook and Tumblr pages.
All of the camera work is stationary or very smooth, but some brief moments of violence are obscured by shaking cameras.
Flashing Lights: 0/10. Motion Sickness: 1/10.
TRIGGER WARNING: This film is an in-depth exploration of domestic abuse. It depicts nearly every facet of such a situation, including physical violence, verbal abuse, and gaslighting. This film also depicts how easy it is to overlook smaller red flags until the bigger ones reveal themselves very late into a relationship, which may be a valuable lesson for moviegoers. One person tells a brief story involving suicidal ideation.
ADMIN BRANDON'S REVIEW: An important exploration into the process that leads seemingly-healthy relationships into domestic abuse situations, this film is one to pay attention to. It is not a comfortable movie to watch, nor should it be, given the topics explored. A solid slice-of-life screenplay and a consistent shared vision among everyone involved all come together to make this a movie that is likely to leave audiences double-checking their own lives. A-.
NOTE: Hi! Admin Brandon here. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I won't be able to publish many, if any video reviews and evaluations for the remainder of August. I hope my one-paragraph review helps relieve some of what's missing with no video. Things are expected to be resolved by the time September begins. More details on this are available in my video review and evaluation of Borderlands, which is now available on Patreon at Patreon.com/MovieHealth, and will be published on YouTube, Facebook, and Tumblr on Tuesday.
#Movie Health Community#Health Warning#Actually Epileptic#Photosensitive Epilepsy#Seizures#Migraines#Motion Sickness#Sony#It Ends with Us#August#2024#Blake Lively#Jenny Slate#Hasan Minhaj#Brandon Sklenar#Justin Baldoni#Rated PG-13
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