#she doesn’t value her own life; shes got a flair for the dramatic

[goodwillfidgetspinner]

loose concept character design sketches are like cocaine to me. I can’t stop making them

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hii, congrats on hitting 1k. For your celebration could you ship me with a grishaverse character. I'm straight, my pronouns are she/her, I have long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I LOVE to read and love music. I'm very adventurous and live doing different things and I cannot do the same thing for too long, like I will have a hobby for like 1 week then move on to something else so I'm very creative. My favourite genre of books to read is crime, thriller with hints of romance. I love horror and action movies but sometimes I love romance movies. My favourite tropes are academic Rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, im also a sucker for shared trauma and hurt/comfort. I'm a big introvert but surrounded by the right people and extroverts I can be very extroverted but only for too long until I become mentally exhausted.

Sorry, this is getting so long😭.

I also have a very traumatic childhood😭😭, probably the reason why a love hurt/comfort and love extroverts that make me feel comfortable.

Again, sorry this is long but I want to congratulate you again for hitting 1k 🎉 🎉 💕💕

hi!

thank you for participating :)

i ship you with jesper!

jesper for sure has undiagnosed adhd. he gets so excited about everything, and can’t sit still for long. he moves along from passion to passion, and doesn’t stick with hobby for long. besides shooting, drinking, and gambling, there’s not much else he sticks to for a long time. while i don’t think he regularly reads, i do think he has a certain appreciation for poetry and well written novels, something that lingers from his time at university. the flair for dramatics and expressions of love are something he could get down with, like shakespeare, and so he’d be content to listen to you tell him about whatever book you were reading, especially if it was something like that. and he’d definitely love letting you read to him while he sat with you, smiling when he’d see you face light up at every turn of the plot. as much as he liked action and adventure, i think he’d rather you read romance to him. he lives enough action in his own life, he doesn’t need it in his literature. when you had the time alone to read, he’d want to hear about all the epic love stories.

i think he’d find it so endearing that you’re introverted. he’d make it his personal mission to get you to open up around him. as you got close to the crows, you’d open up around them. but he’d get a warm feeling in his chest when you got closest with him, and opened up the most around him. he understands what it is to guard yourself and keep pieces of your life hidden. when you both trusted each other enough to confide in each other, he’d feel so special and needed and loved. although he’s a very sociable person, he’d love alone time with you. it would just be more time to get to know you and love you. he’d really value it.

one night, after a long night at the club, he’d sit with you in your room, reading Euripides to you. it would be the first time he did that, rather than having you read to him.

“i’ll take care of you, Pylades said. it’s rotten work, Orestes said,” jesper would read, smiling as he looked up at you. “not to me. not if it’s you, Pylades said.”

you’d smile at him, listening to him read. “it’s no shakespeare, or horror. it’s an epic. why are you reading it?”

“i don’t know,” he’d shrug, looking at you with soft eyes. “a devotion like that…it’s beautiful. i never thought the epics had love like that. platonic or not, it’s special. it’s what i want.”

you’d grin, opening your arms for him. “you have it, my love.”

“good,” he’d murmur, holding you tight, nuzzling himself into you. “it’s your turn to read, darling. i think i like it better when you read to me. you look prettier doing it.”

you’d chuckle, squeezing him tight. “impossible.”

—

hi! i hope you enjoyed this! thank you again for participating :)

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (66) || atz

It’s dark out when wooden boards creak under the tips of your toes lightly, and you glance behind your shoulder to make sure no one is watching you from the ship’s deck before you quickly stride across the pier, hoping the shadows cast from the flickering flames of the torches are enough to shroud you in their darkness.

You’re dressed in one of your Master’s tunics, with a ragged shawl wound around your head to hide your face. Darting down the harbor, you rely purely on your memory to follow the same path your feet had taken seemingly so long ago.

You blend in with the rest of the stragglers littering the dirty seaside hovels, listening to the sound of seawater lapping against the stone docks. The sea winds seem to sense your intent, the trail of salt laced air drifting past your nose and guiding you forward. You double your pace. You’re getting closer.

“Fortune favours the fair...” The raspy whisper curls around your ears, beckons you towards a dingy shack tucked in the recesses of the town, streaked with filth and grime, just as you remember it. Heavy rags and curtains hang from its rickety bamboo frame, the dim light inside barely visible through the thick drapes, suffocating and stifling.

It’s an ominous sight, but you feel no fear as you step forward into the tent without even bothering to announce yourself. You remember the terror you had felt here the last time, even with Jongho at your back, but now, all that consumes you is a ravenous desire for answers.

There’s no more time for fear anymore.

“It’s you!” The fortune teller shrieks, the second you push aside the heavy curtains at the entrance and slip inside. There’s a crash, and you glance up from beneath your hood to see the wizened crone tumbling backwards, knocking over jars of snakeskin and ripping strings of dried talons from the ceiling rafters in her desperate attempt to get away from you. “You, I-”

“Silence.” You say coldly, brushing a spider from your shoulder and she falls silent in an instant, mouth moving soundlessly. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your aura, it’s stronger now, it’s pouring from you.” The fortune teller spits, pressing against the wall behind her in a bid to get as far from you as possible as you cross the cramped hut in three steps to sit on the same chair in front of her table, just as you had so long ago. This chair feels sturdier under you, and you wonder which unfortunate soul bad broken the previous one before you. “Even the biggest fool would be able to tell, why do you think you were not approached on your way here, alone and frail-looking as you are?”

“Huh.” You say curiously, unwinding the shawl from your neck and pulling it free. “That’s a handy skill, now that I think about it.”

“Why are you here, clay one?” The fortune teller hisses, and when you stare back her, she seems smaller than you remember her to be; instead of the looming figure wrapped in darkness she’s merely a trembling, skeletal woman hiding behind her rags. You shrug, prop your chin on your palm and look at her with intent eyes. She flinches.

“You’re a fortune teller, aren’t you?” You ask quietly, your gaze unwavering. “Tell me my future.”

She sputters.

“It- It doesn’t work like that.” The fortune teller spins away from you, but you can see her fingernails, caked with dirt, dragging frantically against the rough grain of the tabletop. “The more one seeks out the future, terrible things come to pass. The more someone plays a god,” her luminous eyes meet yours through her wild tangle of curls, the colour of pond water muddied with scum and filth, “the higher the price they pay, the deeper they sink. But they never turn back until it’s too late, and by then, the price is too high for a mortal to ever pay.”

You frown. “How does someone play god?”

The second you say that, the air in the room changes. You can feel it, the way the temperature seems to drop, the way the flames burning at the ends of the waxy candle stubs flicker weakly, how the rats squeak in the cages and the birds flap desperately. The sea breeze whispers in your ears and the fortune teller stumbles back. “Tell her, tell her, tell her...” Eerie, moaning, indecipherable wails drift in with the wind and the fortune teller shrieks, nearly clawing at the walls in her attempt to escape. “Confess to her all your misdeeds, your sins... how you came to be in this wretched state...”

Frowning, you grab her by the fabric of her shawl and yank her back into her seat. “What did they mean?” She stares back at you, wild eyed and horrified.

“You can hear them?” She breathes, almost incredulous, but before you can answer she’s yanking her clothes out of your grip, mumbling to herself under her breath, teeth chattering and her words stumbling over each other. “Of course you can, you’re one of hers, you-”

“You mean Eldoris?” You ask mildly, but at the very mention of her name the fortune teller jerks across the table to clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with terror. “Do not speak her name.” She hushes you desperately, and your eyes narrow as you pull her hand from your mouth.

“Why not?”

“Names have power.” The fortune teller snaps, sinking back into her seat even as she glances warily around her, as if she’s afraid that the sea witch is going to appear any second. “Names are the identity that bind you to this world. If you live without a name, any name, it means that the world does not have any connection to you, that nothing needs to call out for you. You are an insignificant speck, without an immortal soul, as the birds of the sky to the sirens in the sea are.”

Your eyebrows furrow, bringing your hands up to play with the shawl on your lap, the wooden hand catching on stray threads here and there. “What about the names of gods?”

The fortune teller scoffs. “The gods?” There’s a trace of bitterness in her voice as she sinks back into her chair, eyes dark. “Gods, the mortals call them. No, my dear fool. They are not gods... just beings of immense powers, called into consciousness at Creation. They don’t have names, nor do they have eternal souls... no one calls upon them for who they are, only what they are.” She snorts in ridicule, shaking her head. “Thinking that the gods are human enough to listen to their wishes, to their desires... that’s all a lie. A pretty fairy tale, meant to deceive those with a penny in their pocket.”

You fingers still. “What do you mean?”

“Please, don’t tell me you actually believed those legends.” Her eyes are dark as they meet yours. “As if human offerings such as fruit or even gold would be of anything of worth to a god. They have no need for it. They have existed long before the humans have, and will continue to exist long after humans are gone. They do as they wish, and they have no heart for humans, only for each other. We are nothing but mere ants to them.”

You remember how Eldoris had told you of the names the two gods had called each other by, lips pressing into a thin line. Were the gods really such cruel, heartless characters such as what the fortune teller was saying?

“You sound awfully passionate about this.” You remark quietly, and the fortune teller whips around to glare at you straight in the eye, so close you can smell her rancid breath.

“How do you think I got here?” She breathes, and you stiffen, straightening up to look at her more clearly. She’s had dealings with the gods before? You had thought her to be merely a shady magician with a penchant for seeing the future and a flair for the dramatic. “Trying to play god, trying to gain power.” Her expression darkens. “All I wanted was the ability to see the future, to protect my village from the storms that would rage along the coast, and yet... and yet...” Her teeth bare in a growl. “And yet...”

“And?” You coax her, transfixed by the sheer pain burning in her eyes. Her head snaps up to look at you, and you’re stunned to see her eyes shining with tears.

“I do not wish to speak about this any longer.” She croaks, turning away from you and rapidly swiping the tears from her eyes. Something pinches in you, and you hold out your shawl to her. She stares at it for a good few seconds, before she takes it in her hands and holds it there.

“You’re a good person,” she manages, and you only look at her blankly, uncomprehending. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, ever. Trying to obtain the power of a god is nothing but folly.”

“How does one obtain the power of a god?” You ask, hesitantly, and she looks at you for a long while, searching for something in your eyes. Apparently, she seems to finds it, because she exhales, shakes her head. “The essence of the world is all around us, from the very air we breathe to the water in the oceans all around us. We consume it all the time, in minute amounts... but to attain true power?” Her voice drops and you lean in closer to hear her. “One needs to consume bigger sources of power... like the sirens... or god forbid, the hafgufa itself.”

A memory works its way into your mind, a hazy recollection of staring down a cliff and screaming till your throat goes hoarse.

You frown. “Just like that? How is that detrimental to a person?”

The fortune teller sighs, eyes darkening. “You ask too many questions... but you must imagine yourself as a jar. You contain your own life essence, but to take in the essence of the world around you forcibly? You are... limited... and in order to take in more, something must flow out to make more room.”

Your blood goes cold. “So you lose parts of your own human soul?”

The fortune teller nods heavily, head hanging. “A price no human should ever have to pay. Power is crazily addicting, enough for one to completely lose their sense of self... and the value of their own humanity. A human’s weakness is our biggest strength, but to lose your heart and soul in exchange for power is despicable.”

“But you tried, once.” You say, trying to make sense of it all. “You tried, and you’re still here.”

“I was too young, too afraid.” She hisses, shaking her head. “I killed one siren and consumed her essence before she could return to the sea, and immediately the sea witch rose from the waves to strike justice upon me. She couldn’t take the essence that I had stolen from the sea, so she cursed me to have the most terrible of prophecies I spoke of to never be believed, to watch the awful visions I had seen come to pass in front of my very eyes, completely helpless but you,” one of her hands reach out to touch yours almost gingerly, as if she’s afraid that you might end up being nothing but a dream, “you believe me.”

You nod slowly. “I do... I think. Something about the way you speak convinces me.” You exhale lightly, hold out your hands to her, eyes blazing with determination.

“Since I do, will you please tell me my future?”

The fortune teller flinches, before she sighs, rubbing her temples. The seashells on the silver bracelets she wears tinkle with each movement. You continue to stare at her, pleadingly, resolute, until she looks up at you with the shake of the head.

For a second, your heart drops, but then she speaks, perhaps more to herself than to you. “If I send you, too, to your death... but no... perhaps,” she looks up at you, gripping your hand tight with surprising strength for such bony fingers, “if you were already supposed to be dead and yet you still stand before me here... perhaps things will be different for you.”

A pang of fear shoots through you, and you hurry to ask, “what do you mean, I’m supposed to be dead? Did you see something in my future the last time I was here-”

“No, nothing like that.” The fortune teller waves a hand dismissively. “What I mean is that no golem has ever lived past two or three moons, not even the most well made ones I’ve ever seen. And yet, here you are, after so long.”

Something icy cold begins creeping into your heart as you chew on your bottom lip, brows furrowing questioningly. “How exactly does a golem... die?”

The fortune teller exhales, gives you a pitying look. “Well, a golem is a vessel often made of clay or stone, powered by its maker to carry out their wishes.” You nod intently, clinging on to every word. “Golems carry unimaginable amounts of power in their physical forms to animate them even without their master’s conscious effort, which is why only the most powerful of magicians can make them, but their bodies are not meant to house them nor use them.”

Your heart clenches painfully.

“In order to use the magic within them to animate themselves, the golems’ bodies degrade, like how one would break holes into a clay vessel in order to release the water within.” She continues, seemingly unaware of how still you’ve become. “The damage is irreparable. After a while, the body eventually shatters into nothing but dust in a couple of moons or so.”

You pause for a moment, licking your lips, which suddenly feel bone dry. “Ahh... that sounds rather morbid.” You say, nodding slowly. Perhaps that might explain your nosebleeds... and the cracking of your hand. So you were right, you are falling apart and there is no cure; or well, no human cure. You look down at your chest, resting your human hand against your heart gently. What kind of power do you have stored within you that is slowly killing you from the inside?

“I do not know how you came to be, even the sea witch cannot have had this much power to create a being such as you.” The fortune teller says softly, fingertips digging into the table. “But I can try to give you a prophecy, if that is what you so desire.”

Without pomp nor fanfare, she holds out her hands expectantly and you place yours in hers, one flesh and blood and the other carved wood, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. “Not going to take my blood this time?” You try to tease a little, to settle the painful flutter in your belly, but the fortune teller shakes her head, dark eyes searing into yours.

“I have never had a need for it, except to pacify the hearts of others...” She sighs, “No person would believe that I would be able to tell fortunes otherwise.” With that, she falls silent, eyes slipping shut, and you do the same, gripping her hands tightly.

Seconds stretch into moments, and moments into minutes as you wait for something, anything. For a second, you’re almost afraid that the fortune teller has fallen asleep, and are about to tap her on the shoulder when her grip on your hands suddenly tighten near painfully. Eyes flying wide open with shock, you look at her, but before you can ask her what’s wrong, words begin to pour from her opened mouth, even though her lips do not move.

Your heart skips a beat.

“I see darkness... darkness all around me...” The fortune teller breathes and your blood runs cold, throat tightening. “You are bound to another by a promise... and they will come, bearing a gift... a gift to sunder the promise that binds you to this mortal coil...”

A promise?

“No matter the choice you make, all the paths have been set straight, and they lead only to death.” Your breath catches. “There is no other way, your promise is a futile one, and it can only be fulfilled through death. The only future is death... death... death. It comes as the storm approaches... on the horizon of the sea.”

You swallow.

“But take heart at the very end... take... heart, to become weak is to triumph, to die is to live and remember... what... your name... is... and who it is...that... it... calls... to...”

And with that the fortune teller merely slumps over the table in a dead faint, mouth slack as she breathes slowly through her nose. But you simply sit there, silently, heart hammering in your chest as you realise what you’ve just heard.

And only one word replays in your head, like the last lines of a sea shanty that never ends.

Death.

Death.

Death.

[adora2723]

Supercorp

It was a precarious situation. Lena wondered how she always seems to find herself in the middle of those. Right now, Supergirl was tied to a wall, barely conscious due to the Kryptonite conveniently placed all around her; just the right amount to subdue her yet keep her aware of her surroundings.

Lena had just come to after being knocked unconscious by Eve in her office. She should have seen that coming, she thought to herself. Her head throbbed in sync to the beat of her pulse. She watched her brother pace back and forth in front of a screen, replaying what seemed like every interaction she ever had with Supergirl on a loop. Something wet and warm trickled down her forehead, and when she reached she found her fingers sticky with red, hot blood.

“Ah, finally! You’re awake. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for 13 minutes Lena. You know it’s rude to keep people waiting, I taught you better than that. Sit up straight! Respect is built on the foundation of propriety and composure. Show your big brother some respect! Then again, it is not entirely your fault is it? Miss Teschmacher may have been a tad bit... overzealous in her execution.”

“What am I doing here Lex?” Lena bit out.

“Yes of course, straight to the point as usual. You see, I told you, Lena, to always mind the company you keep. And sure, I can disregard many things... you sending me to jail: sibling rivalry. Changing the company name: petulant yet expected. But, working together with that alien scum to take me down is a betrayal I wasn’t expecting from you!” Lex’ voice started out as mild taunting but by the end had been consumed by rage. He was living up to his reputation as a mad man; wildly gesticulating, spit flying everywhere. If he had had hair it would be sticking out in all directions. So much for composure.

Of course Lena knew what this was about. She’s known for three weeks, ever since Lex escaped from prison, that he was going to come after her. She wasn’t really worried about herself; she knew their confrontation was inevitable. Neither could live as long as the other survived. If only her life was as magical as these novels. Unlike Harry though, she was all alone. No dependents who would suffer from her proximity, no family to mourn her untimely and cruel death, and no friends who would miss her during random lunch dates or impromptu game nights. Well, one friend. Kara. Kara was her solace in an otherwise dreary existence. Kara who she had come to care for as more than the best friend she pretended to be. Kara who she should have cut ties with as soon as she received the first foreboding letter. The letter, sent anonymously by Lex, that seemingly was just fanmail by a devoted admirer, sweetly relaying his adulation through Ancient Greek song. Turns out she could have avoided a tragedy, but she was Icarus flying too close to the sun, incapable to resist. She will pay the price for this.

“Let her go. Please! It is me you want. Take me!” Supergirl feebly tried to fight off her restraints. Her voice barely audible, rough and scratchy from exhaustion. Lena admired her perseverance. Supergirl’s sense for justice never seemed selfrighteous, a feat her cousin couldn’t quite pull off. Despite their dissent Supergirl didn’t falter in trying to protect her; maybe in a promise to Kara? Wishful thinking.

“There won’t be much of you left to take, Kryptonian! Besides, you have no value to me, no. This is personal. This time I came here to quench my thirst for revenge. You see, most people think we Luthors don’t have emotions. And usually they would be right in their assessment, however limited it might be. Average brains produce average results. But nothing about us Luthors is average. We are eminent, exceptional, extraordinary. And so are our feelings. And you,” he turned his burning eyes to Lena, “hurt mine. It is not just that. It is a matter of respect, isn’t it. How dare you drag our name through the mud-”

“Me?! I wasn’t the one who went on a suicidal mission-”

“How DARE you use MY company, my brain, my knowledge, my tech for the empowerment of those roaches ?!  HOW DARE YOU. Everything you have is because of me. Everything you built, every business deal you closed, every prestigious award you got, the recognition, the applaud, the esteem. EVERYTHING you are, is because of me. Without me you are nothing. I made you who you are and you go against me.” He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, seemingly gathering his composure. “How dare you betray me like that, sis?” He turned his back to her. Supergirl was stunned speechless, deliriously following Lex’ tirade. Lena used this opportunity to scan her surroundings. They were being held in what looked like some sort of cave. It was dark and moist, and the air smelled of sulfur. Against the confinements of the cavern Lex had constructed his head-quarters. The only exit was a tight tunnel, pitch-black and not very promising to aid them in their escape to daylight, it was also very inconveniently located on the opposite end of where Supergirl was tied up. And Lena was not leaving without her. Their future seemed dismal.

Lex took a deep inhale. “It is vile. What you did to me... I want you to feel it to. Before I kill you, I will see the same betrayal in your eyes and on your dying breath you will realise, that you were alone all along, just like me.” 

“She is not alone! And she will never be like you. Don’t listen to him Lena.” Lex laughed hysterically. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Supergirl. See, I realised some while ago that people with feelings tend to be more concerned about their loved ones. Indeed, they care more about those who are near and dear to them, completely disregarding their own self in the act, which turns out to be the grounds of their demise. And, unfortunately for you, Lena, you are as selfless and tempestuous as they come.” Lex paused for seemingly no other reason than dramatic effect. For a guy so aversed to theatrics he had a flair for ostentatious performance.

He side-eyed Supergirl surreptitiously. “Say, how is that reporter friend of yours? Kara Danvers?” Lex smirked mischievously. Supergirl began fidgeting frantically. Lena’s brain whirred to life. She started working through all the ways that this could play out at a highspeed. “What about her?” She chose nonchalance. She knew she had been putting Kara at risk by befriending her, but staying away seemed impossible. If anything happened to the bubbly reporter just because Lena wanted to indulge in a hopeless little crush, Lena would never forgive herself.

It might have even been more than a crush. Lena remembers the night vividly that she realised she was in too deep. They had known each other for a little over a year by then. Eventhough they were colleagues now (well, technically, she was her boss) the acquisition of Catco brought with it a shitload of paperwork, board meetings, and late-night phone calls that had to be dealt with, and Lena was stretched even thinner than usual. They hadn’t seen each other for a month after their reconciliation, and Lena was just happy to spend some quality time with her best friend who finally seemed to be over her ex. When Kara had initially invited her over Lena wanted to decline. Abstaining that long from Kara’s cheeriness had made her revert back to old customs. Lena had resigned herself to go back to being lonely, writing Kara off as a shooting star that briefly flew by to illuminate her firmament for a precious while, too good to last. But Kara had insisted and she couldn’t resist her pull. 

So she had made herself comfortable on Kara’s couch, dressed down in comfy clothes that no one was allowed to see her in except for Kara. She had ordered Chinese food, knowing Lena’s taste by heart, and while Lena was animatedly telling her about her childhood before she was adopted, Kara not so sneakily stole some chicken from her box. There was nothing new about that; Kara was known to be a voracious eater and often snuck some food in from foreign plates. What she did next, however, was unprecedented: she replaced the chicken with a potsticker from her own plate. She had spent enough time with the Danvers sisters to know that Kara sharing food had near-apocalyptic implications. But for her to do it so casually, while keenly and earnestly absorbing every word of Lena’s most treasured tales, that’s what made Lena’s heart simultaneously expand and implode at once. In the warmth of the fairy lights, lounging on the snuggly sofa, Lena lost her heart to riveting eyes and giddy laughter.

Now, she wished she would have closed her eyes and made a wish. Letting the shooting star take its destined course. Now, that star was gonna crash and burn, diminishing all hope in its wake, all because Lena could not stay away. Because Lena was selfish. “Don’t play dumb now, sis, inanity doesn’t suit you. We all know how you feel about that bimbo. Though I have to admit, you always had a keen eye for beauty. Unfortunately, you never bothered to look beyond what’s on the surface. Well, how do they say? ‘Love is blind.’ Isn’t it right, Supergirl?”

If they weren’t in a situation of life and death Lena would have been petrified. She was very careful to never show even an ounce of her overwhelming affection to anybody. Least of all people who she knew were connected to Kara and might tell her about Lena’s deplorable feelings causing Kara to finally abandon her, kindness be damned. Least of all people who had a unyielding sense of rectitude and might believe Kara had a right to know about what Lena was so desperately hiding. Least of all people like Supergirl.

Alas, she had more pressing matters to attend. “Don’t you dare touch her! You hear me, Lex, you go after her and you will regret the day you were born!” Lex’ grin turned from smug to wicked. “Oh, don’t worry little sis, I won’t even come near her. You see, it just happened to be the case that you, dearest Lena, embraced the provenance of your own demise. It just happens that delay is the deadliest form of denial. And you’ve been in denial for so long. We Luthors, we do feel emotions. Just not all of them, no, only the crucial ones. Avarice, pride, rage, and betrayal. Fuelling our power. And once you feel that betrayal, Lena, you will kill for me two birds with one stone. You will drive yourself to death in your quest for revenge and you will take that pathetic Supergirl with you. Feel the rage Lena. Feel the betrayal.”

Lex turned towards the screens mounted on the cave walls just as Supergirl tore free of her restraints in an anguished scream.                    

[gravityfissure]

[meta] What, if any, games, movies, books, tv shows, etc. have you drawn influence from for your character?

Okay so round 2, much in the same vein for Arthur there are... A lot. Possibly even more things that influence and inspire where Otto’s muse and views comes from. That said in writing this there are also a LOT of similarities between the characters I can pick out certain attributes and to be honest there’s a lot of crossover with the traits and characterisations highlighted.

Namely: playful and proactive, self-serving yet loyal to those that meet his criteria as to who is deserving of it. A grifter by nature that will approach almost any situation if he feels he’ll get something out of it while equally hoping that one day someone might actually bother to ask him (and maybe give him a true reason) to stay.

Dorian - Dragon Age: Inquisition

Uh, the heir of a famous magical dynasty? A flair of magical talent that made him the envy of his peers? Studied at one of the best colleges for the magical arts before being kicked out and privately tutored before eventually vanishing and being found by Magister Gereon Alexius who offered to take him as his apprentice eventually becoming a fully-ranked enchanter. A pariah for opposing every fault his homeland is renowned for?

It’s been years since I’ve played DA:I and Dorian always was one of my favourite characters but tbh I completely forgot his background and it’s only in revisiting it now I actually realise the similarities in the framework of their characters/development/story line. Not to mention the fact they both enjoy playful flirtation and witty banter and oppose the things they don’t fit into their view of the world. They will probably do the right thing, but that doesn’t mean they might not take their sweet ass time in actually getting into a situation.

Isabela - Dragon Age II and Inquisition 

AND AGAIN. Isabela’s a great character - a pirate scourge of coastlines and nations around the world who values fun, freedom and getting ahead in life. They both value solving situations in clever and devious ways and getting ahead even if it means being somewhat selfish when they’re dealing with other people, example: Otto conning Deirdre out of $28k when she tried to cover for Regan or those plans he has to try and record a banshee scream? They’re both always down for trying to squeeze that little bit extra out of a person. If it one ups them in life and people are gullible enough to fall for it well... They really did it to themselves didn’t they?

But that doesn’t mean there aren’t depths to that hardened persona they both present. There are actual feelings and things hidden behind the wall and appearance they both present to the world. And underneath it all they’re both afraid of being left behind, but figure it’s best to push people away before they decide to leave of their own volition. At least that way they can say they have some control over the situation.. 

Sera - Dragon Age: Inquisition

Apparently this is a DA characters list but you know what sue me. x) So NEXT on the list is Sera, an elven archer who is incredibly impulsive and reactionary. She takes pure delight in humbling the established authority she views as arrogant and selfish. It’s less about what’s right in the grand scheme of things but more about what’s right in that very moment. She doesn’t believe in actions taken for a greater good, instead viewing it as just another excuse to hurt others undeserving of such treatment because it’s easier than making the truly hard choices in life. 

Felix Dawkins - Orphan Black

Look Felix is one of the many fascinating characters on Orphan Black. Don’t get me wrong there are SO many and it’s a great show. But Felix is a character whose very existence proves that you can have a very effeminate, boisterous, loud, witty gay character and not have him be limited to the perpetuation of the sassy gay friend stereotype. Why? Because he has a whole complex personality beyond just that aspect of his life. He’s got to deal with real life issues on top of all the drama clone club brings into his life and he deals and he survives and he cOPES.

Not to mention he’s a positive representation of foster children being happy, positive representation of LGBTQ+ characters and gives positive representation of sex workers. Not to mention on top of all that representation you see how he’s smart as hell, the only person who knows Sarah well enough to keep her on track. The BEST uncle to Kira and one of the most supportive characters on the show. 

Sarah - Orphan Black

Felix’s foster-sister, another character that shows the positive and complex dynamic that foster families tend to have while also demonstrating the fascinating found-family dynamic with clone club. Sarah’s interesting because she’s a natural chameleon, she’s street-smart and tough, a born outsider living on the fringes by her wits while in possession of a dark sense of humour that sees her by.

Sarah and Otto have a rather morally ambiguous compass, they’re both characters who swing between being very self-serving and selfish and acting for the greater good when they decide it’s needed. Not to mention the act as if they don’t care about other people’s issues (see clone club) when actually it transpires they both might just care a little more than they actually let on.

Garcia Flynn - Timeless

Unfortunately Garcia fits the my favourite character type: tall, dark, snarky, sassy antihero motivated fiercely by love and willing to do things of questionable morality against a greater evil, self-aware and doesn’t make excuses for his behaviour, but isn’t wringing his hands over it either.  A character who so dearly loves the people in his life (see revenge for his wife and daughter) so much so he’s still fighting for them 5 years later just to be alive and not even to have anything to do with him again because he knows the things he’s done are enough the he could never go back to being that person for them. The man who loved his mum and went on a trip just to make her happy and save his brother. When he truly cares for someone he does EVERYTHING for them while somehow having none of the toxic jealous possessive business, despite his  well-attested Garbage Drama in other departments, and just generally being a mature adult and an essentially good person who has gone down some really dark places and is finally rediscovering what he’s buried and lost. Look man, I’m a suuuuuuuuuuuuucker for found family, enemies to lovers, and villain becomes weird family member. And he covers all of those, so yes. 

There’s a lot of that I’m planning and drawing on for Otto, this weird currently antagonistic little self-serving shit who is out for his own ends but maybe along the way finds some semblence of a conscious and maybe has a fair few moral dilemmas and self-questioning moments along the way? Who maybe finds friends (and even love?) Who has to deal with FEELINGS and things he’s repressed for years because of the things he’s done just to survive the life he fell into? Uh, yes give me give me give me.

Jesse Custer - Preacher

Okay, so this one’s kind of another given. Jesse’s another character I’m fascinated with because before Genesis’ arrival he was a down upon his luck preacher. A man who was trying so hard to fit into his dad’s ideal and not let the life he had before affect his day to day. Except it all goes to hell in a handbasket because of course it does.

Jesse essentially gains the ability to make anyone do anything he says. And that power? It’s addictive, and we see the struggle he goes through to learn how to control and manipulate it to his own end. To begin with he tries to right wrongs, to tell people to stop doing the bad things they’re doing in their lives and fix them so they’re better people but with each act that power and god-complex grows. It goes to his head until we meet the moronic messiah Humperdoo and Jesse eventually agrees to take his place. The messiah-complex and power corruption is complete, and the repercussions of his choices are devastating especially with how they impact Cassidy or Tulip and the repercussions in Angelville.

Much like Otto’s own magic, the more its used the more enticing it is to carry on using it for more and more things. At first it was small deeds, little acts of good until Otto in kind started to realise that good deeds weren’t enough to make a change. They weren’t enough for other people around him and with each act it grew and grew - and it continues to grow. The question is to what level? And if it ever got out of control, would he ever know how to stop it?

Crowley - Good Omens

An overall non-threatening demon, who tries to be “evil” in his own way to fit into the role his society (other demons) expect of him. Crowley wants to save the world (for his own reasons) and can be rather self-serving in certain moments. There’s plenty of times he tried to convince Aziraphale to run away with him and let everything else forgive the irony but for lack of a better term “go to hell” but he always comes around in the end (typically to a Queen track) to help when it really counts for something.

 Not to mention his flare for the dramatic, very rarely thinking things through, with many of his own plans backfiring on him.  

Sound familiar?

Wrench - Watch Dogs 2

Part-hacker and full-fledged anarchist who wears a freaky mask with LED displays capable of bizarre emoticons. He's vulgar, crude, entertaining and an absolute adrenaline junkie who lives on the edge. He's jokingly called the wrench because he's the wrench you throw into somebody's gears to grind them to a halt.

The final one on the list, because it’s a side I haven’t yet played into so much but I’m curious to given means and opportunity to. Otto does have some inclination towards an anarchistic nature, if a system doesn’t seem to work he isn’t afraid to speak out or more likely act out against it. Whether it’s in the greater good or not isn’t so much relevant rather that he would happily take a torch and burn something to the ground if it meant starting again with something new and better in its place. It’s definitely something I want to explore more down the line.

I also find it interesting the whole concept of “hiding behind a mask” which is something wrench quite literally does. Both have built personas to defend themselves from people breaking through and seeing that what actually exists on the other side is a rather shy and awkward person who tries to “act out” and be “dramatic” in an attempt to get attention from a world in which there’s so much noise how could anyone ever feel like their voice mattered let alone be heard unless they started shouting “HEY, LOOK AT ME” at the top of his lungs?  

[cardassiangf]

okay actually let me just do the top three placements for the ds9 crew, okay? okay here we go! these are just for fun & also my interpretation. also i realize some arent human and therefore would have different placements entirely, but you know what? idc. (and no ezri since i havent seen enough of her to make a good guess sfdgfhjh sorry!) 

julian i already said was a cancer sun virgo moon. workaholics who are kinda anxious but also full of love and affection, plus they also love to talk. for rising im kind of caught between aries and sagittarius, because they both in nicely with the top two. i am leaning more towards aries rising though for him. moves very fast to keep interest in things & is career minded. it’s kind of a combination that swings back and forth between this unflappable confidence (usually in the workplace) and a deep emotional vulnerability. also, they’re caregivers by nature. his childhood teddy bear was his ‘first patient,’ and that has to mean something. he also repeatedly shows himself to be drawn to people that might be in need of ‘fixing,’ and might not necessarily pull back until something shakes him out of it. julian is someone who buzzes with energy and feels so much at once it can be hard to reign in, but once he actually manages to do that, it’s almost unstoppable. 

for sisko im feeling gemini sun and scorpio moon. okay yes two signs with a bad rep for some reason but hear me out: this person is extremely charming, confident & elegant except when they're Not, there's intense confidence and resolve that comes through. and on that intensity, we’ve all seen sisko when he gets serious about something--it’s a Lot. it’s a combo that can also be thrown off kilter and that’s not a great thing, but sisko has an excellent support system to ground him so you don’t see the negativity. he’s also a pisces rising. the same intensity comes out in love and emotional intelligence with him here, he’s definitely someone in touch with that side of himself and that’s very Water Sign of him. so basically loving, protective, the type of person people get drawn too for one reason or another but also there’s a chaotic side to him too, and he’s got a flair for the dramatic (his escapades in the mirrorverse come to mind when i think about this.) 

jadzia... okay see my initial reaction is to just. fill her chart with fire. she’s a big personality on the surface, and extremely magnetic. but actually? leo sun pisces moon. okay yeah, a fire sign out from the gate but hear me out. there’s a lot of duality in jadzia, and while she outwardly shows a ton of confidence, she’s also pretty self reflective and i get the sense she much prefers to deal with her problems internally. like, people don’t really see much past her dazzling outside either, and as another leo sun, people do tend to write us off as a bit one dimensional at times. the known emotional sensitivity of the pisces mized with leo’s capacity to love is good for her i think. rising is a bit tricky, since jadzia also has dax to blend her personality with, but i think that virgo rising suits her well. for all of the fun she brings to the table, she also has a brilliant streak of practicality. 

kira is another instinctively ‘oh, fire sign!’ person but actually? i think she has a ton of water in her chart. she’s emotional and passionate and so devoted to the things and people she believes in, and maybe she isn’t used to paying attention to her emotions because the occupation didn’t let her, but she feels so deeply. for this reason, pisces sun sagittarius moon scorpio rising. the thing about kira is that she might hold a lot of anger, but most of it stems from love and protectiveness. she’s incredibly blunt and adaptable, and definitely one of those pisces who doesn’t actually want to admit they have anything in common with the other water signs lmao. she’s at her best when she’s around people who can ground her and kind of make her pause to evaluate things before jumping into action and seriously values the bonds she makes with people. she also doesn’t really care for staying still or playing political mind games and would much prefer to just jump into the Doing phase of things. 

quark is just. it took me a minute for him actually? idk he’s a bit of a weird one. for quark, he’s kind of dramatic and emotional but also has this wonderfully deviant side and, when it comes down to it, isn’t terrible at business negotiations at all. yes he has majorly fucked up some big opportunities, but also somehow has kept his bar running for what, 15? 20 years? through everything that’s happened on ds9.  quark is a capricorn sun, but it’s balanced out (or in conflict with) his aquarius moon and leo rising. quark is weird, and kind of a dick sometimes, but when he’s not trying to be a menace, he actually has a pretty good heart. he’s a pretty creative thinker and constantly finds new ways to use practical knowledge to his advantage. but he also likes to ‘outshine’ others and keep the spotlight on himself, and he’ll lie and trample over people to do so. the fact that this combo makes him attentive can be a bit of a double-edged sword; sure, he can listen to people when he feels like it, but what’s going to happen with that knowledge? who knows. not quark until he finds an opportunity for it at least. 

odo! does not technically have a birthday but who cares i love him so he’s here. yes, we will start obviously: virgo sun. what else would i go with. he’s a reserved person with a personality that errs on the side of uptight; very virgo stereotypical. but you know what else? aries moon. oh yes. odo walks into a room and as long as he wants you to know he’s there, you Will know. he’s bold in his own way, and extremely on top of details with intense attentiveness. of course there’s some fire in his chart, and probably a lot of it in other placements too.  his gemini rising helps this out immensely, which is kinda surprising. but also when gemini is ascendant with virgo in sun, it makes them meticulous, fast learners. maybe a bit nitpicky at times, but nothing that can’t be helped with practice. i think the aries placement would also probably explain the underlying sensitivity, because like, it’s generally one of the louder signs of the zodiac but here’s a secret from anther fire sign: we are So sensitive oh my fucking god. we have a ton of ego and pride (and you can’t tell me odo doesn’t have moments of that) so typically unless we’re in a place we feel we can let go, you won’t see it, but jesus Fucking christ fire signs have a lot of emotion under the surface. 

miles, who i just wanna lowkey take the piss out of and slap him with virgo/virgo/virgo but i will refrain lmao. no, for him, libra sun leo moon virgo rising. he’s extremely reliable, devoted to his work & friends & family even if he’s not the greatest at showing it? a bit emotionally constipated but he does try very hard and that’s why we love him. is it the placements or the fact that he’s an irish dad? who knows, but he’s very prone to just telling people things outright with nothing to cushion it. this can be good or bad, and seems to depend more on how well the other person knows him. his leo side makes him pretty warm when he’s comfortable, and i think his relationship with keiko actually paints him as a lowkey traditional romantic too. also, these placements make for really good parents, and we don’t see it as much as we see the jake/sisko father/son dynamic, but miles really does do his best for his kids. 

worf my boy, who i have loved dearly since i first saw tng. hard to make a guess for him im 100% happy with though. im decently satisfied with taurus sun leo moon scorpio rising. worf is just like. he doesn’t have a really big personality but you also are very aware of him? i wouldn’t say he’s stoic by any means, he’s just very. focused. he’s honest and tries his best to look at situations from a more lawful standpoint, or at least, one that makes the most sense with his own honour code. he seems drawn to stability, but also finds himself drawn to people who challenge him too? he’s out here looking for something to balance him out and put things in perspective for him. whether or not he takes that into consideration is another thing entirely. and i say scorpio because, you know what they say, still water runs deep. you might know what he’s thinking because he told you, but you might not know how he Feels about it. actually, you probably will not. the leo doesn’t really make him want to be in the spotlight or anything, in his case i think it acts more like his driving force. 

and listen. i know garak isn't crew. but i love him so he’s here and we’re all gonna like it.  this chaotic little bastard spy is an aquarius sun pisces moon capricorn rising.  garak is unique, and even if he doesn’t want to say it, he’s pretty ruled by his emotions too. he’s creative, and a grade-A manipulator who can charm his way just about anywhere (provided of course, the person in question isn’t someone who’s been warned about him, but even then, he has a good chance). he’s good a good, if not a bit Off, sense of humour and he comes off as someone who has a personal interest in the behaviour of people. not just a spy thing, but he’s invested--he does crave a certain intimacy and closeness which gets denied uh. most of his life actually. the capricorn read comes from how he’s been able to compartmentalize and commit acts of cruelty. an interrogation that was four hours of staring and not speaking is certainly creative. it’s also an insanely calculated and sadistic mind game for him. and it’s interesting to note that as much as he manipulates, he’s also very easily manipulated himself (see: Everything about tain jesus fuck i hate that man so much). he also runs into quite a bit of trouble when he’s not able to compartmentalize things any longer, whether it’s because the emotional toll is too high or he simply doesn’t see the point in the actions any longer. 

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

A Dangerous Invitation by Erica Monroe. Quillfire Publishing. 2013.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, The Rookery Rogues #1 of 4 (and a short story)

Summary:  She’s given up on love, and wants only independence… Torn from her life of privilege by her father’s death, Kate Morgan survives in London’s dark and depraved rookeries as a fence for stolen goods. The last man she ever expects, or wants, to be reunited with is her first love, who promised to cherish, honor and protect her, and instead fled amidst accusations of murder. He’s the reformed rake determined to win her back… One drunken night cost Daniel O’Reilly the woman he loved and the life he’d worked so hard to create. If he ever wants to reclaim that life–and Kate–he’ll not only have to prove he’s innocent of murder, but convince the pistol-wielding spitfire that he’s no longer the scoundrel he once was. Together, they’ll have to face a killer. Time is running out…

***Full review under the cut.***

Trigger Warnings: violence, sexual content, sexism, forced prostitution, rape, sexual assault, alcoholism, being buried alive

Overview: Another recommendation from the website Smart Bitches, Trashy Books. I decided to give this one a try because I’m a sucker for a spitfire heroine, murder plots, and the criminal underbelly of late Regency/pre-Victorian London. But while the previous recommendation was a hit, this one was somewhat of a miss. I think the bones of the story are good, as well as the character archetypes, but I wasn’t personally a fan of Monroe’s writing.

Writing: Monroe’s prose is fairly straightforward with some dramatic flairs here and there to heighten the emotion. It’s easy to read, and you can skim it quickly, if that’s your style. For me, however, it bordered a little too much on the melodramatic, and it became a bit repetitive when the same sentiments were evoked again and again. For example, we’re told a lot how much our heroine, Kate, can never trust a man again and that she can’t have a future with our hero, Daniel. After the first few times, I wished Monroe would move on to explore more complex emotions to develop her characters a little more. I also think the dialogue is a bit unrealistic, as characters tend to say exactly what’s bothering them or what deeper issues are plaguing them without much prompting, and real people don’t exactly talk that way. Some metaphors and choices of words were also a little awkward, which made for a confusing read at times.

By far, the biggest issue I had was the way Monroe handled the exposition and the details of her mystery. The action of the story starts out fairly quickly, which would have been fine except that I felt like I was being asked to care about characters’ histories without getting to know them first. Daniel runs into Kate after a long absence on page 2 of the first chapter of the novel, and I wish we were given a chapter where we saw Kate fencing some stolen goods or something else first to get us invested in her as a character. Also, because things happened so quickly, I felt like I was being told a lot of information rather than relevant details being shown to me organically. For example, a character might do or say something, then there’s be a kind of aside that explained the significance of the thing. Or Daniel would reference something about his quest to clear his name, then the author would take some time to tell us how he started his journey, how he knew people helping him, etc. As a result, there was a lot of setup jam-packed in the first few chapters, and I wish more had been done to create a flow that didn’t rely on duck info-dumping. Maybe if we had a chapter showing us Kate completing a sale (as I said) while Daniel is contacting his rogue friend, Atlas, who agrees to help him clear his name. Then the action between them could begin.

Plot: I love the idea of former lovers teaming up to solve a mystery, and at its heart, I think the premise of the plot was interesting. I did think, however, that some of the details and steps along the way weren’t handled as well as they could have been. There’s a lot of going to talk to witnesses or persons of interest, which makes for a lot of info-dumping, and there’s also some random chases which seemed to be inserted for the purposes of action rather than a logical unfolding of the mystery. During the first chase, for example, I was constantly wondering whether their pursuer was just a night watchmen or someone more nefarious. If the latter, how in the world would someone have known Daniel and Kate were snooping around the warehouses at night unless someone was following them? The thought that someone must know they are investigating the murder from the onset (and thus, know that Daniel is back in London) doesn’t really occur to the characters, which I found a bit frustrating.

Overall, I wished the events that made up the main narrative had been strung together more meaningfully. Every encounter that was related to solving the mystery had the potential for some interesting social commentary, and while it was gestured to, I ultimately felt that it was rushed. For example, there’s one scene in which Daniel and Kate go visit a prostitute, and Kate thinks a lot about how the girls are more than just objects and how women have to do what they can to survive. Soon after, she discloses her own rape after being tricked into prostitution. It seemed to me like the author was trying to cover a lot of things at once when the personal lives of the characters and the unfolding of the mystery could have revolved around one or two themes: the link between minorities and crime (due to poverty resulting from prejudice), for example, and the way gender also affects how women experience the criminal world. Or, given that the main undercurrent of the book is the existence of body snatching, every aspect of the story could be tied to the concept of “selling bodies” and disregard for the poor. If the bodies of the poor are being exploited to sell to medical facilities, that kind of matches up nicely with the idea of poor women “selling their bodies” via prostitution or Irish immigrants “selling their bodies” by becoming laborers. But alas, it seemed like the novel wasn’t quite interested in diving deep into those issues.

Characters: Our heroine, Kate, is a headstrong woman who has used her knowledge of her father’s shipping company to fence stolen goods following her family’s bankruptcy. I rather liked how her ruthlessness and street smarts were connected to this aspect of her life rather than the author throwing up her hands and just asserting that Kate was a badass. Kate was also pretty likable as a street-smart protagonist who knew how to navigate the criminal world of 19th century London. I liked watching her get out of tricky situations and disappear at opportune moments, and I especially liked that she had a practical, active role to play in the investigation. She’s enlisted for her quick mind and encyclopedic knowledge of her father’s company, and I found that enjoyable and well-done. However, she was a bit back-and-forth in her affections for Daniel. One minute, she’d be proudly declaring that they can’t be together and values her independence, and the next, she’d kiss him or let him touch her while thinking about how she wanted to be protected. While it was understandable, given her traumatic history on the streets, I did find it a bit frustrating, as a reader, because rather than there being some evolution or development to her character, Kate seemed to be on a more cyclical track.

Daniel, our hero, is an Irish immigrant who has returned from abroad after being accused of murder years before. I liked that Monroe set him up as a struggling former alcoholic and as having PTSD as a result of having found the murder victim before he died - it made it seem like reform was a continual process rather than a quick fix, and that men can be emotionally vulnerable in more ways than just being lovesick or abused. I didn’t quite see what Kate saw in him, however, as her main attraction to him seemed to be physical, especially when recounting their past. Why, for example, did she fall for him before the murder when she says she was concerned about his alcoholism? What drew her to him? I also think Daniel was written as a bit too jealous. He would hate a man he just met just because he potentially got to know Kate while Daniel was away. There was more than one time where his jealousy almost ruined his chances of clearing his name, which I found ridiculous.

The supporting characters were a bit of a mixed bag. I liked Kate’s barmaid friend, Jane, and Atlas, even though neither had quite enough “screen time” to be anything other than a convenient plot device. Other characters just outright got on my nerves with their general disregard for women. The villain, in particular, was poorly done in that he monologued a bit and sexually assaults our heroine for reasons that seem to just be “because I’m evil.” It made for a rather up-and-down reading experience.

Other: There were some interesting political aspects to this book in that many references were devoted to the mistreatment of Irish immigrants. There’s such potential there for a deeper exploration of prejudice and life as a “second class citizen,” including the brief references to Daniel’s code-switching (which was delightful) and his complicated feelings about being Irish but barely remember living in Ireland. I think, however, that a lot of the prejudice was left to stand on its own and generate some automatic sympathy for characters without actually thinking about how it could enhance the story. For example, are Irish people scapegoated for crime in Monroe’s world? How is the stereotype of the alcoholic Irishman subverted by Daniel’s struggle to be better or how does his past make us think more deeply about why people turn to drink (as opposed to judging everyone as uniformly “amoral”)? Just because the novel is a romance doesn’t mean that these issues can’t be explored (one has only to look to someone like Courtney Milan, who weaves social commentary into her romances brilliantly).

I also think more could have been done to enhance the romance itself. While I did like that Daniel was intent on proving himself to be a better man than he was when he left, I also didn’t think the romance was built on much other than their past and physical attraction. Daniel’s reasons for loving Kate seem to be that she anchors him, which is a bit selfish and frustrating, but he also admires her independence and intelligence, which prevented me from giving up on him entirely. That being said, their relationship doesn’t evolve as much as it’s cyclical. They fight a lot and Kate is constantly back-and-forth about whether or not she wants to be with him, so it felt like I was reading about the same issue over and over rather than seeing how trust was built between them. Daniel’s arc could have been more about accepting Kate for who she is now - not reminiscing about a past that couldn’t return - and Kate’s arc could have been about learning to trust again or valuing living people over the memory of her dead father. While Daniel’s acceptance of Kate’s past was well-done, I really wanted more insight as to how each person made the other’s lives better and more emotionally fulfilling, not just how they’re a good person for overlooking the other’s flaws or how the love interest “anchored” them or whatever. In fairness, Daniel does learn that he needs to “save himself” rather than rely on Kate to do it for him, but there was very little lead-up for him to get to that point.

Continuing with the Series? No.

Recommendations: I would recommend this book if you’re interested in historical romance (especially set in the 19th century), criminal underbelly of London, Irish heroes, reformed rakes, disinherited heroines, former lovers, and murder plots.

[theashofwkm]

Impossibly Alive

Summary: corpses don’t move, but is it still considered a corpse if it keeps coming back to life?

Prompt: Goretober, corpse

Warnings: dead body (obviously), wound mentions, death talk, blood mention, mark is suicidal and wants to be dead, planning a murder/suicide.

Note: day eight. idk how I feel about this one, tbh. hope you all like it!

———

Corpses don’t move.

Mark’s has been doing so for months. He doesn’t die at the Poker Party, when William shoots him. That’s not the wound that killed him. It did worsen things, did kill, technically, but he was already dead. Sort of.

It was all a messy ordeal, the dying but not being dead thing. He didn’t even understand it, not really.

Typically, people only die once and it’s game over. Mark dies dozens of times, but keeps getting dragged back to the pile of flesh and bone that is his corpse. His old body.

Lights flicker out, he has some quality time in a dark void where a voice whispers that he’s not done yet, he has a job to do and until he does it, he cannot die. Then he wakes up, in his body, in a pool of his blood, with pain from his attempt at death, but alive.

Somehow, alive. Impossibly so.

It’s like a kind of purgatory, the void. Not heaven, where he lives out his best days, his ultimate dream. Not hell, where he suffers and gets punished for all his wrongdoings, his sins. Just an inbetween nothing that whispers his inability to stay dead.

Maybe it should feel like a gift, a blessing. It feels like a curse. A twisted, messed up curse.

If he knew what he had to do, he’d do it. Whatever it was. He’s desperate and tired and just wants it all to be over. He’d do anything, to just stay a corpse.

Try as he might, none of his attempts work. Every try, he gets scolded, like a child who didn’t do their chores. He’s a grown man who’s decisions have been taken, by voices in a dark void. It’s stupid. Unbelievable. But it’s the life he lives, now.

He still doesn’t know what he has to do. The voice mocks him, taunting him with a teasing “what you most desire.” He desires death and that isn’t working.

He drowns. That’s when the voices offer him something substantial, something he can work with.

A man stole your wife, your fortune, everything you had of value. Are you going to let him?

The voice wants him to enact revenge on William. Immediately, his first thought is to kill him, but it doesn’t sit right. He can’t kill anyone, especially his childhood friend, even if he was the reason Mark was miserable.

He’s too nice, somehow. Merciful to a man he doesn’t need to be merciful towards. This could go down simply, he could shoot William and then himself and have it all be over.

Acting wasn’t his career path because he was good at pretending. It was because he had a flair for the dramatic. If he goes out, having to enact revenge, he’d go with a bang.

William didn’t need to die to pay for what he did.

No, he could suffer in life. Rot in prison and sit, knowing that he’d killed his childhood friend, his brother. It is a brilliant plan, to tie the two things together. It might not work, Mark might still come back, but that stain would remain on William’s soul.

A murder charge would ruin his life quite thoroughly. And if he didn’t stay dead, then an asylum would gladly accept him when he spouted nonsense about shooting Mark, and him falling, not breathing, just to come back a few hours later. Crazy talk, is what it was.

It really was the perfect plan for revenge.

Celine would never stay with him, if he was shipped off to a cell or talking insane. Though, she might see past the insane and recognize the truth. She was a seer, after all, a magic worker. Maybe she’d make the connection between his immortal state and the house’s demon, as she called it. Oh, how she’d been obsessed with the thing, when they were married.

“The house is possessed,” she’d say. “There’s something evil here.”

Now, it’s turned out to be true. Different angles, something evil has lived in the house. The voice is the obvious one, most likely what she sensed, but others now fit that description. William, for stealing his wife and fortune. Herself, maybe, for letting herself be wooed. Mark. For planning his own murder, to make William a killer. It was dealer’s choice, really.

So any evils, so many persons with their own sins. One could could the house a den of evil. Arguments could be made that his parents were less then saints, and that there was a reason relief swept through the town when they’d died mysteriously.

Festering grounds for hatred, resentment, evil. Maybe the house is what had turned them all, or maybe that’s how they were destined to be.

Except for the fact that without it, Mark would be dead. Honestly, completely dead. Not planning to send his friend off the deep end, to jail. Without the outside influence, he’d just be a body in the dirt. It’s what he deserves.

Mark was never a saint either.

For Celine, he’d cleaned up his act some, had gone out of his way to be kinder to others. Had put in effort to drink less. He’d tried to be good, for her. She’d left anyways and now he was back to old habits. Looking for clarity in empty glass bottles.

Surprisingly, this time it had provided him with more then a hangover the next day. This time, it had offered him a plan that gets him everything he needs to get what he wants.

The party goes smoothly. William is laughably easy to coerce into murder, even if accidental. Fingers crossed behind his back, his body becomes a corpse again. He goes to void, and the body moves.

Dead, not in his body, the corpse moves. Falls from nowhere to startle the District Attourney. Disappears from the room, the premesis when the Detective turns away.

Panic spreads, Mark’s body is returned, once again with him, although not on the physical plane. How it got there, he’s not sure, but it’s nice to be back inside familiar flesh. Bleeding and broken as it was.

There’s a light behind him. Instinctively, he knows that it’s his ticket to move on, to finally stay dead. He stays, let’s it burn behind him while he watches chaos ensue at the Manor.

He plays dead when the light goes out and he suddenly has company. There’s a buzz in his mind, a film like feeling he can’t describe. He’s not alone, in his body. It’s a strange thing to realize, but stranger things have happened recently, the past twenty four hours especially.

Seeing Damien upset is heartbreaking. Pleading to their old friend, confused and desperate, cracks at his heart, what’s left of it. He hadn’t deserved any of this.

When Celine performs a spell, starting something permanent and irreversible and arguably evil — he gets sucked in too. Taunting Damien, he plays a crucial part in creating his arch nemesis, a villain. When they all come back, when Dark is born, Mark makes a choice.

He turns his back on the light of the afterlife. Accepting his immortality as the gift it was, the gift it always had been.

It was going to be a hell of a rivalry.

———

Masterlist

TAGGING: @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @withjust-a-bite @statictay @muraae @harmonyofstars @cosmic-frapuccino @jmweezy (tags are open)

[ritebeforeyoureyes]

Haunt

Thank you all for being so patient! I am still overwhelmingly swamped with writing essays and work but have been writing this chapter in small installments so I could update as soon as possible. Hope you like it x

Masterlist – Plot: Tom makes a declaration that changes everything.

Haunt (Chapter Fourteen) 

“What is it, Sam?”

Sam had taken Tom back into his office in silence. It was a suspense filled few moments and Tom was growingly becoming more and more anxious; anxiety that was heightened because Zendaya had just picked up and left. The image of her retreating was burned into his brain, an image he was positive he never wanted to see again. had smiled meekly as she’d closed the door, her saddened and confused face haunting his every thought. He had lost her once and he was stupid to do it again. Her leaving was only temporary, he was going to give her a little space before reminding her that she needed him, that she would always need him. She

Tom was also antsy because he was both turned on and furious. He wanted to protect her, have her by his side at every waking moment, whilst simulatenously rebuilding their slowly rekindling relationship. They had had a moment that had meant more than just blinded lust and he was determined to start from there – build from there. She had given him into, even if momentarily, and Tom was determined to start from there; take baby steps. He wanted to remind her that deep down, there was still that old Tom that she’d helplessly fallen in love with.

“I need you to promise me you’re not going to do anything reckless.” Sam broke the pregnant pause, forcing Tom away from his train of thought. “No kidnapping, no drive by shooting-“ The field of work that the Holland boys were involved in meant that it wasn’t problematic to grab a gun, shoot someone and make it look like an accident. Tom had done it many a time and Sam needed to ensure he wouldn’t this time. After a long time, Sam was going to have to advise his brother to keep his personal and business lives separate. “Whatever I’m about to tell you doesn’t justify you going to kill this Trevor guy, okay?”

“Just tell me.” Now, Tom was more than interested than ever. Sam was usually such a straight forward person, his hesitation meant something he’d found something of serious value to him.

Again, Sam hesitated. He still had second thoughts about telling Tom plaguing his mind and he closed his eyes for a few moments to breathe. Without fully comprehending his actions, he threw a weighty file into Tom’s lap. Within seconds, Tom was skim reading the first few pages, eager to learn the news that his brother was dancing around. But, as he read monotonous facts, he realised he was just going over the same content that had been recited to him on the phone; Trevor’s age, his occupation, his familial background. “What exactly am I looking at-“

“Flick to the last page.” Sam instructed, placing a palm to his forehead in an attempt to relieve the prevalently forming stress lines. He rubbed at his skin softly, turning his back to his brother before the metaphorical bomb exploded.

As instructed, Tom did as he was told, his eyes glancing over the collection of pictures in his hands. He looked them over once and then once again - they were amateur photographs, taken from someone’s car window but they were still pretty much clear as day – Trevor in and outside a jewellery store.

“So, what? He went to the jewellers, big deal-“ Before Tom could finish his own sentence, his eyes caught onto the thing that had been holding his brother back from confessing. As he looked over the photo over and over again, Tom felt his throat go dry drastically. “Fuck!” Tom threw the file as if he’d been electrocuted, the papers flying across the floor like leaves in the autumn wind. “I’m going to kill him, I swear to god I’m going to kill him-“

In front of Tom was solid evidence of Trevor picking out engagement rings. The picture solidified his feat of trialling different cuts and different gems before deciding on a pure silver and diamond incrusted band. It wasn’t anything too fancy. but it was sparkly and large enough to suggest that Trevor, a working-class guy, had been saving for months (years even) From everything Tom had learned, he knew Zendaya and Trevor were serious but … marriage was something he’d never considered between the two. Getting married was a completely different ball game of seriousness. Regardless of everything that had happened in Zendaya and Tom’s past, he had only ever envisioned marrying her. And marriage was something he rarely thought about. Despite their breadth of time apart, Tom had never met a girl who had even remotely met his Zendaya level standards and it almost felt betrayal that she had found someone other than him to settle down with.  Marriage was a big deal that coalesced with all levels of intimacy: buying a home together, merging finances … having children.

“Tommy, you can’t kill an innocent man because he’s going to propose to Zendaya-“

“Like hell he’s going to propose to her-“ Tom sighed heavily, his mind suddenly growing extremely heavy. If he was jealous earlier, he was unbelievably so now. Tom had never felt angrier and as unadmitted as he was, upset. And, he wasn’t sure if his emotions were directed at Trevor or at himself. Trevor had gone to a jeweller to buy a ring – an engagement ring that was presumably purchased to be given to Zendaya, his Zendaya. And it was the reality check that Tom needed. He was inches away from losing Zendaya for good and he was determined, now more than ever, to prevent that from happening.

“Tom-“

“I need to see her.” Tom threaded a hand through his hair and tugged, multiple scenarios of Trevor proposing flooding every fibre of his being. He saw him on one knee in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge, he saw rose petals and champagne, he saw Zendaya in happy tears at the Top of the Rock; he saw everything that he had one day always pictured happening to him and Zendaya. “I need to see her, Sam-“

“She left so you could give her some space-“ Sam, as the voice of reason, tried to pull his brother out of his one-sided perspective but he was readily interrupted.

“I don’t give a shit about the space anymore.” As stubborn as always, Tom wanted his way and he wanted it now. “I’ve wasted too much time being away from her already, Sam! For all we know he could knocking her door right this moment, giving her that-“

“Is that such a bad thing?” In Sam’s mind, he was prioritising Zendaya, the older sister type figure who had always been so full of life and drive. She had seemingly gotten out of Oakland without having to succumb to the authority laced behind somebody else’s money or join or a gang or sell her body. By using pure talent and her own motivation, she had gotten out and Sam didn’t want her endeavours to just be thrown out of the window because of his family. He wanted more for her than the life he lived. But as soon as the words left his mouth, Sam regretted them instantly. And it was because of the words per say, it was because of Tom’s reaction. Before Sam could even take a breather, Tom’s fist was flying square into Sam’s nose. The hit wasn’t hard enough to break his nose, but it was definitely forceful enough to draw some blood and some consequent profanities. “Jesus, Tom! Will you calm the fuck down-“

“Is that such a bad thing?!” Tom mocked Sam’s slightly higher tone of voice. “Are you fucking kidding me right now!?” Tom roared, his fist still tightly clenched. “I’m not letting Zendaya, my Zendaya, marry some cocky, disrespectful bastard when-“

“When what, Tom?” Sam yelled back, his mind desperately trying to force his brother into seeing the bleak reality of his situation. This wasn’t a fairy-tale, after inheriting Barrett’s money, their lives weren’t normal anymore and they were never going to be. If Sam could save Zendaya from the corruption prevalent in their lives, he was going to try his best. “She isn’t yours! You left her and somebody else picked up the pieces!” Tom was ready to punch Sam again but expecting it this time, Sam deflected the hit. “Have you once stopped to think about her in this whole situation? You want her, you want to save her, you got her into this mess. But have you ever stopped to think that maybe this isn’t what she wants? That a life of crime and looking over her shoulder isn’t what she pictured when she moved out here?”

“I …” Sam’s words, every single one of them, was a knife to Tom’s gut. “I can’t just … let her go-“ Tom sighed heavily, collapsing into his chair with an overly dramatic flair. “I can’t … I love her!” The harsh reality of his words was a shock to Tom too. It was like the light bulb moment in a movie. Everything went still and quiet, the gears turning in Tom’s head at his own stripped back honesty. Him and Sam looked at each other, their eyes bulging and their eyes widening almost comically. Tom paused, letting his declaration sink in before he reaffirmed it. “Honestly, you know I’ve always been in love with her and I can’t let her slip through my fingers, not again.”

“Well, if you do love her, then maybe you need to pull your finger out and sort out your act.”

If you enjoyed this piece and would like to help further me and my work, please support me whilst I get through university. The money you donate will go towards assisting me in my student fees, rent etc. It is one hundred per cent a voluntary pursuit and greatly appreciated, however, your lovely comments, likes and reblogs are always welcomed too. Thank you for being the greatest: https://ko-fi.com/D1D072V0

[mbtizone]

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls): ENFP

Dominant Extroverted Intuition [Ne]: Lorelai is all ideas and possibilities, all of the time. Most of what comes out of her mouth is speculation and fun. It’s not necessary for anything she says to be rooted in reality. Lorelai is extremely good at making connections, which allows her to come up with an endless amount of pop culture references in her witty, quirky sense of humor. She talks fast, leaping from one thought to the next, and, for those with lower Ne (or none at all) can sometimes have a difficult time keeping up with her. Lorelai is a free spirit and doesn’t like to make decisions or commit to things. She prefers to keep her options open for as long as she can and has a tendency to procrastinate. She can come up with a hundred different ways for something to go (whether positive or negative). These possibilities tend to range from highly unlikely to completely impossible because of her incredibly active imagination. Lorelai tends to be scatter-brained and rootless, which irritates her conservative, uptight parents. She can make even the most serious situations humorous with her gift for sarcasm, which usually comes across as charming, but can sometimes land her into trouble. Lorelai is comfortable with the unfamiliar and enjoys experiencing new things. She enjoys conspiracy theories and doesn’t need something to be proven to believe it.

Auxiliary Introverted Feeling [Fi]: Because Lorelai’s values are completely different than the ones she grew up with, she rebelled… hard. She takes pleasure in doing things differently than her mother does. Lorelai is fiercely independent. She doesn’t want to rely on anyone and has a difficult time asking for help when she needs it (especially when her parents are the ones she needs something from). When she was in labor, she simply left her parents a note and drove herself to the hospital (despite not even having a driver’s license). She’s true to herself, no matter what, and doesn’t censor herself for anyone. Lorelai hates to feel like she’s being controlled. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and can be quite stubborn and unforgiving if someone violates her moral code. She tends to judge people harshly if they make a decision that she is opposed to and can sometimes have trouble seeing things from other people’s perspectives. When Rory begins seeing Dean again while he’s married, Lorelai is extremely disapproving and cold towards Rory about it. She is guarded with her emotions and doesn’t usually like to talk about them. She’ll usually cover them up with humor, or by throwing herself into other things to keep her mind occupied. Lorelai forges her own path in life and doesn’t let anyone tell her how she should live it.

Tertiary Extroverted Thinking [Te]: Although she can be flighty, Lorelai has a head for business. If she sets her mind to something, she becomes sharply focused on achieving it. When Lorelai confronts someone, she allows her Te to shine and doesn’t hold back. She’ll say exactly what she’s thinking and she won’t hold back. Lorelai can be skilled at thinking on her feet and coming up with plans when things go awry. Though, the plans she usually comes up with have a certain Ne-creativity to them (such as when the inn catches fire and Lorelai has to find rooms for all of her guests). When she’s at work, she is comfortable being the boss and telling people what to do, though she typically does so in a light-hearted manner, unless she’s stressed, angry, or upset.

Inferior Introverted Sensing [Si]: Lorelai may mock some traditions and prefer to do things her way most of the time, but she enjoys her own, personal traditions (as opposed to the ones forced on her by society). One of the routines that she loves is her regular movie and takeout nights with Rory (where they typically watch old movies that they’ve seen many times before). She tells Rory the story of her birth every year on her birthday, with signature Lorelai dramatic flair. She becomes extremely distressed over not being able to have the apple tarts that are served every year at Richard and Emily’s Christmas party. Sometimes, she can have a hard time letting go of relationships and can be rather nostalgic and sentimental on occasion (such as her feelings about the doll house from her childhood). She berates Luke for taking the Monte Cristo sandwich off the menu, even though she’d never actually order it. It was just comforting to know it was there. When she and Luke decide to get a place of their own, she is unable to part with her house and they decide to just renovate her house instead of moving. When Lorelai and Rory are on the outs, Lorelai is upset that they won’t get to do all of the things they planned to do for Rory’s 21st birthday, and she remembers each aspect of their plan vividly. However, in most cases, Lorelai doesn’t like to get hung up on details and tends to be more of a big-picture thinker.

Enneagram: 7w6 Sx/So (Tritype: Possibly 748)

Quotes:

Rory: Sounds like you’re over thinking this. Maybe if you just put pen to paper. Lorelai: I tried that, I thought, “I’ll just sit down and write whatever comes – no judgment, no inner critic.” Boy was that a bad idea. Rory: Really? Why? Lorelai: Because my brain is a wild jungle full of scary gibberish. “I’m writing a letter, I can’t write a letter, why can’t I write a letter? I’m wearing a green dress, I wish I was wearing my blue dress, my blue dress is at the cleaner’s. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue, ‘Casablanca’ is such a good movie. Casablanca, the White House, Bush. Why don’t I drive a hybrid car? I should really drive a hybrid car. I should really take my bicycle to work. Bicycle, unicycle, unitard. Hockey puck, rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants!” Rory: Hockey puck, rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants?

Lorelai: Lorelai Gilmore: disappointing mothers since 1968.

Luke: Just order, please. Lane: Did you take off the Monte Cristo sandwich? Luke: Well, I , uh… Rory: No! Lorelai: You did. You took off the Monte Cristo sandwich. Luke: I ommitted a few obsolete dishes. Lorelai: I can’t believe Nicole made you take off the Monte Cristo. She’s got you menu-whipped. Luke: She does not have me menu-whipped. I took off a disgusting ridiculous sandwich that no one has ever ordered, including the three of you. Rory: But just having it there made us feel like we always could. Lorelai: It was comforting. Rory: Like soup. Lorelai: Exactly. It was comforting like deep-fried ham and cheese soup. Rory: And even though I never ordered it, I talked about ordering it. Haven’t I? Lane: On several occasions. Lorelai: So you’ve not only eliminated a sandwich, you’ve eliminated a conversation peice. Rory: Now what will we talk about? Luke: Fine. Here- old menus- everything’s there. Knock yourselves out. Lorelai: …How come everybody else gets a new menu? [Luke walks away] Lorelai: I feel much better now.

Emily:: It’s going to be fabulous. Isn’t it, Lorelai? Lorelai: Ab fab, sweetie darling. Emily:: Isn’t she hilarious? I never have any idea what she’s talking about, but she’s so entertaining! Like a chimp. Isn’t she like a chimp, Gypsy? Gypsy: Please make your mother stop talking to me. Lorelai: If only I had that power.

Lorelai: [Outside her parents house] Once upon a time, there was a big house with thick glass windows and heavy stone walls and a slightly pornographic fountain in the driveway. And all the animals in the forest were scared of the house ’cause they thought that the house was haunted, and so did all the villagers in the small hamlet of Hartford… shire… ville. “Maids go in, but they never come out,” they would whisper on the street. [to Rory] Lorelai: How are we doing? Rory: Keep going. Lorelai: One day, a beautiful young cowherderess walked by the house. Rory: Cowherderess? Lorelai: Hey, we could just go in, you know? Rory: Cowherderess is walking by. Lorelai: And suddenly she felt the unbearable need for a strand of pearls and a snifter of 100-year-old scotch. So, abandoning her cows, she climbed over the high walls and dropped onto the just-redone tiled walkway and rushed toward the enchanted French doors that the queen had never been happy with because the hardware was not what she had picked, and she refused to pay that idiot designer that she hired off of a recommendation, and [to Rory again] Lorelai: okay, seriously, this didn’t work when you were 4. I am not sure why you thought it would do any good now.

Lorelai: I hate when I’m an idiot and don’t know it. I like to be aware of my idiocy, to really revel in it, take pictures. I feel we’ve missed a prime Christmas card opportunity.

Emily: You took that girl and completely shut us out of your life. Lorelai: You wanted to control me. Emily: You were still a child. Lorelai: I stopped being a child the minute the strip turned pink, okay? I had to figure out how to live. I found a good job. Emily: As a maid. With all your brains and talent. Lorelai: I worked my way up. I run the place now. I built a life on my own with no help from anyone. Emily: Yes, and think of where you would have been if you’d accepted a little help, hmm? And where Rory would have been. But no, you were always too proud to accept anything from anyone. Lorelai: Well, I wasn’t too proud to come here to you two begging for money for my kid’s school, was I? Emily: No, you certainly weren’t. But you’re too proud to let her know where you got it from, aren’t you? Well, fine, you have your precious pride and I have my weekly dinners. Isn’t that nice? We both win.

Lorelai: Cold, cold, cold, cold, icy feet. Stupid, frozen tundra house. Honey, why are you sleeping in here? Your room is way warmer. Ok, here is the question for today kids: what the hell are the Eskimos thinking? I mean yes, the hoods are cute but it’s always cold, always! Plus you have to eat fish for breakfast, and you have to eat whales, and polar bears, and penguins and Santa Claus. Coffee’s on and Pop-Tarts are poptarting! If you’re just gonna lie there I’m just gonna have to sit here. I’m gonna have to make myself very comfortable on my nice warm Rory! Rory: Why is it so cold in here? Lorelai: Ahh! Rory: Ahh! Lorelai: But I was sitting on you! Rory: Oh, really, good trick. Lorelai: But if you were there, then who’s this? Rory: I don’t know. Lorelai: We’ve got a stranger in our house. Rory: Robert Downey Jr.? Lorelai: Or a murderer. Rory: Who needed a nap before committing his crimes?

Lorelai: What’s that? Sookie St. James: That is a vat of boiling oil. Lorelai: Really? Where’s Quasimodo? Sookie St. James: This is not a joking matter. Rory: What is the oil for? Lorelai: For pouring on Visigoths. Sookie St. James: Lorelai. Lorelai: When else am I gonna get to use my Visigoth material?

Lorelai: Okay, I think we just found the first room in the history of the world that would’ve made Liberace say ‘Whoa. Step back. No one’s that gay.’

Lorelai: We’re not gonna have this fight in a flowery bedroom with dentists singing “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves” in the background. It’s too David Lynch!

Lorelai: You don’t take off without telling Mommy! Rory: I love that I didn’t have to clear it with you to go on spring break but I had to clear it with you to come home. Lorelai: I had visions of you being swallowed by a whale, or taking off with some surfers to go chase the perfect wave and not inviting me.

Emily: I am reduced to calling you and asking are you coming? Lorelai: Uh-huh. Emily: Is that “uh-hu, yes I’m coming” or “uh-huh, I was reading while you were talking”? Lorelai: [throwing things at Luke] Tell you what, Mom. Plan on me coming, and if I don’t then it’ll just be more for everyone else. Emily: Lorelai, you know very well our dinners do not work like that. There is careful planning and shopping and preperation that goes into every meal no matter how boring or simple it may seem to you. Lorelai: Mom… [throws half a burger at Luke] Luke: Hey, what… [Lorelai smiles] Luke: Get off that phone! Lorelai: Oh, shoot, Mom. There’s no cell phones in here. I’ll call you back later. Bye. [hangs up/to Luke] Lorelai: And when I need you. Nowhere.

Lorelai: [Emily is reminding Lorelai of her DAR meeting on Tuesday ] It’s burned into my brain, it’s there forever. When I’m senile and gaga and drooling into a cup… and I can’t remember my name, I will still remember that your DAR meeting was on that Tuesday. I’m going to have to be deprogrammed by cult deprogrammers to get that Tuesday out of my brain.

Lorelai: You’ve been stomping around, barking at people for days. Luke: I have not. Lorelai: Yes, Cujo, you have. Luke: I always talk to people like that. Lorelai: No, Benji, you don’t. Luke: I’ll be fine tomorrow. Lorelai: Really, Lassie? Why is that?

Lorelai: [about Rory’s 21st birthday] We had plans. Luke: What? Lorelai: We were gonna go to Atlantic City. We were gonna sit at a blackjack table at 11:59, we were gonna order martinis, and we were gonna be playing 21 when she turned twenty-one. And then hopefully we’d win, and we’d take our winnings and we’d buy 21 things. And then there was a thing about 21 guys that wouldn’t really be appropriate anymore since the engagement, but it was a good plan. She probably doesn’t even remember the plan. Luke: She remembers the plan. Lorelai: It wasn’t like we talked about it every day. It was just something we thought of. Luke: She remembers the plan.

Lorelai: [Explaining her Halloween plans] I want to do a skit. Luke: Skit? Lorelai: Yes, I want to be a mad scientist. I’m gonna come out in a blood-stained white lab coat and freaky makeup and big, giant, Don King kind of hairdo, and I’m going to turn the whole front yard into my laboratory. Luke: Wow. Lorelai: Yes, I’m gonna have a huge electric chair and an operating table and test tubes and wires. Luke: Sounds elaborate. Lorelai: But you haven’t heard the half of it, okay? And so I come out and I do mad scientist “banter”, like, “Hey, who here is from Bellevue?” and “‘Girl Interrupted’? Now that’s my idea of a feel-good movie”. I’ll work on it. But anyway, after that, I’m gonna drag you out. Luke: WHAT? Lorelai: You’re strapped in an electric chair, and I’m gonna throw the switch and totally electrocute you. And you’re flailing around. We’ll rig something where smoke and sparks shoot out of your nose. And then once you’re dead, I’ll throw you onto the operating table and I’ll cut you open, and I pull link sausages out of you and throw them into the crowd. Luke: That’s it? Lorelai: Well, I mean, we can take a bow or something, but, yeah, that’s it. Luke: Okay. Uh, just a couple of questions here. Once you’ve electrocuted me, and I’m dead, um, how exactly do I get to the operating table? Lorelai: Huh. Good question. Maybe I can position the operating table like right near the electric chair so I can just flop you over onto it after you die. Luke: Okay, let’s say we work that out. Now I’m on the table. You’re gonna cut me open with what? Lorelai: A big, rusty saw. Luke: And then you’re gonna pull link sausages out of me. Lorelai: Real slow and creepy like. Luke: Okay, great. Last question. Uh, what are the odds of you getting me to do a skit where you electrocute me, cut me open, and pull link sausages out of me? ‘Cause I’m thinking they’re right up there with Pia Zadora making a big comeback.

Lorelai: Uh, so let’s get back to the party recap. Any details you wanna tell Mommy? Rory: Jess and Dean got into the fight. Lorelai: Over you. Rory: I was a contributing factor. Lorelai: Was anyone hurt? Rory: No. Lorelai: And that’s why the cops came and broke up the party? Rory: Yes. Lorelai: So not only did you go to a cop-raided party, but you started the raid? Rory: Yes. Lorelai: This fence is broken because of you. This crap is on the ground because of you! Rory: What’s your point? Lorelai: [sings] Did you ever know that you’re my hero, You’re everything I wish I could be, If could fly higher than an eagle, You are the wind beneath my wings!

Emily:: Why didn’t she just say ‘yes’? Lorelai: I think she’s not sure if she wants to marry him, Mom. Emily:: That’s ridiculous! He’s a Huntzberger! An offer like this doesn’t come around every day. Lorelai: It’s a marriage proposal, not a sale on linens!

Luke: There is no fate. Lorelai: What do you mean there is no fate! Of course there is fate! Luke: There is no fate, there is no destiny, there is no luck. Astrology is ridiculous. Tarot cards tell you nothing, you cannot read a palm, tea leaves make tea and nothing else. Jim Morrison is not hanging out with Elvis. And the Kennedys did not kill Marilyn. Lorelai: I totally knew you were gonna say that. Luke: I came over here, my fault. Lorelai: I read your mind! It spoke to me! We’re psychic! Luke: Enjoy the fries.

Luke: I mean you look distracted. Lorelai: Distracted? No, well, maybe, yeah, distracted, okay, sure, I’m very distracted. Luke: Anything I can do? Lorelai: You know there are very few times in my life when I find my self sitting around, thinking I wish I was married, but today… I… I’m happy, you know? I like my life, I like my friends, I like my… stuff. My time, my space, my TV. Luke: Sure. Lorelai: But every now and then, just for a moment I wish I had a partner, someone to pick up the slack, someone to wait for the cable guy, make ME coffee in the morning. Meet the stupid sink before it gets shipped back to Canada! Luke: What happened? Lorelai: I just thought I had everything under control, but I didn’t and the inn is just falling apart. This has been my dream forever and I have it and it’s here and I’m failing and I can’t handle it, I just spend every minute running around and working and thinking and I thought I would have help but Sookie has Davey and Michel has Celine and I’m… I can’t do it all by myself! And I don’t even have time to see my kid anymore, hell forget see her, just even talk to her and I miss her. And I sat there in my parents’ house just listening to my grandma basically call me a charity case and I couldn’t even argue with her, I couldn’t even say anything, because I am, I’m running out of money! And I was going to ask you for $30,000 at dinner tonight, that’s how pathetic I am.

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls): ENFP was originally published on MBTI Zone

[wordcollector]

Animated Life Lesson #3: Friendship

Friendship (noun): harmony, accord, understanding, rapport

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir is fairly new to television, but it’s already made a big splash.  The story, set in the grand city of Paris, follows Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste, two teenagers who have the ability to transform into the titular Ladybug and Chat Noir to defeat baddies sent after them by the supervillain Hawkmoth. It may seem like your standard Saturday morning cartoon plot, but it manages to be so much more.  The villains are fun and interesting, with unique abilities and costumes, the fight scenes are creative and visually appealing, and there’s actually a love square between the two leads.  

Yes, this show has upgraded on the dreaded love triangle to a love square, but it actually only contains two people, Marinette and Adrien; the other two ‘people’ are actually their superhero alter-egos, and the resulting relationship drama is less dramatic than it is hopeful and a bit sad.  The two really like each other, yet they don’t know it, thanks to typical teenage embarrassment and the age-old rule that secret identities have to be kept secret.  

Romantic subplots aside, Miraculous has plenty of other great things to offer. There’s a diverse cast of characters, the animation is well done, and the use of actual locations in and around Paris makes the show seem more realistic.  The premise of the akumas and their ability to give powers to people suffering hardship or dealing with conflict is different than the usual powers granted by a chemical spill or other scientific experiment gone wrong.  The resulting villains are therefore just everyday Parisian citizens, and none of them are inherently evil, so their vilification at the hands of Hawkmoth elicits some sympathy.  

The audience is often reminded of this point in the way that Ladybug and Chat Noir interact with the villain of the week; they know the villain is someone who has been taken advantage of, and while they resort to physical interaction if necessary, the pair prefer to distract the villain and take whatever object is holding his or her akuma, thus freeing them from Hawkmoth’s thrall without having to hurt a sort-of innocent victim.

It's a different take on taking down a villain, even in the world of cartoons.  But for Ladybug and Chat Noir, the villains are often their friends and classmates, and even though our heroes could easily take them down with a straightforward assault, they value their friends and their relationships with them too much to hurt them unnecessarily.  And the pair are clever enough to save the day without resorting to violence, so they don’t have to worry about their friends getting hurt.

Friendship in general is an important aspect of this show, both because, as I said, many of Marinette and Adrien’s friends are akumatized, meaning the two have to stop their friends from destroying Paris, and because their friendship is integral to their ability to work together. 

In their normal life, Marinette likes Adrien, and she’s incapable of hiding it.  She blushes, stammers, and literally hides whenever he’s around.  But as the show continues, Marinette begins to become more sure of herself, thanks no doubt in part to the confidence the city of Paris has in her abilities as Ladybug, and this allows her to begin to actually converse with Adrien.  

For Adrien, he considers Marinette to be one of his few friends, since years of homeschooling to allow more free time for his modeling career kept him from forming many true friendships.   

However, it’s the pair’s friendship as Ladybug and Chat Noir that really shines.  The pair did not start out as friends; having just received the ability to transform into their superhero alter-egos, Marinette is horrified at the prospect of having to face down a stone giant, while Adrien is overly excited, rushing in and almost getting himself hurt.  Marinette eventually gathers her courage, and although things get worse before they get better, the two manage to stop Stoneheart and return Paris to normal.  

As the two continue to defeat Hawkmoth’s akumatized villains, they learn to trust one another, and it soon becomes evident that they wouldn’t be able to effectively save the day without one another.  It’s also evident, to the viewer although not to each other, that both Marinette and Adrien are somewhat different as their superhero alter-egos. Marinette is much more confident, unafraid to throw herself into the situation and certain that things will work out.  Adrien is much more uninhibited; since no one knows he’s the famous Adrien Agreste, he’s free to let himself have fun, free to joke and flirt and play, free of the constant rules and schedules that rule his normal life.  They do say that opposites attract, and that seems to be true for Ladybug and Chat Noir.  

Chat Noir may annoy Ladybug sometimes, and Ladybug may be too secretive for Chat Noir’s liking, but the two move from just being teammates to being friends.  They enjoy each other’s company, they laugh, and they eventually learn to read each other without having to say anything.  And as their friendship grows, so does their success as superheroes.  You can work with someone you don’t like and still get the job done, but things work much more smoothly and effectively when you’re in tune and genuinely like working together.  For Ladybug and Chat Noir, being friends means they’re able to enjoy being superheroes while they work to save the city.

But the friendship between the two superheroes isn’t the only important friendship for either Marinette and Adrien.  Their best friends, Alya and Nino, respectively, are both amazing characters and they provide awesome support for their superhero buddies, even if they don’t know about their friends’ crime-fighting.  

Alya is the perfect friend for Marinette.  She’s encouraging, outgoing, and she’s definitely not afraid to speak her mind.  Alya is new to school, and she and Marinette bond over their favorite comic book hero, as well as their mutual dislike of their bossy, spoiled classmate, Chloe. As the school year goes on, Marinette and Alya become inseparable.  Although they’re quite different in terms of personality, they’ve totally got each other’s backs.  

Alya is always encouraging Marinette in her desire to be a fashion designer, and although she calls Marinette hopeless in regards to her repeated failed attempts to talk to Adrien, she always tries to help Marinette speak to her crush.  Even more, Alya’s admiration of and belief in Ladybug helps boosts Marinette’s confidence, even if her friend doesn’t know it. Marinette helps Alya with her blog and backs her up against Chloe, and although Marinette’s moonlighting as Ladybug sometimes causes her to have to leave Alya hanging, Marinette always apologizes and does her best to show Alya how much she appreciates her.  The two balance one another, and together, they’re their own force to be reckoned with.

Adrien is also a new kid, and at first he and Nino don’t quite get along, due to Nino’s mistaken belief that Adrien and Chloe are close friends.  Nino, who has presumably been going to school with Chloe for a while, knows what kind of person she truly is and believes that Adrien will be just like her.  When Nino realizes he’s wrong, he gladly introduces himself to Adrien, offering to be his friend.  

Like Marinette and Alya, Adrien and Nino have very different personalities.  Whereas Adrien is more reserved and a fairly strict rule-follower, Nino is more relaxed.  He’s always trying to get Adrien to lighten up, even though it puts him at odds with Adrien’s father, and he always has a  joke or some fun plan to cheer Adrien up when he’s had a bad day.  Adrien, on the other hand, does his best to encourage Nino when he’s nervous or stressed, and he does a pretty good job of defusing Nino when the latter is frustrated or angry.  Although their friendship is slightly more strained thanks to Mr. Agreste, Nino doesn’t hold it against Adrien, and the two hang out and have fun as often as possible.

But the importance of friendship and cooperation isn’t just an integral part of the show, it’s part of the making of the show itself.  Miraculous is a collaborative effort between animation production studios in France, Japan, and South Korea and is in fact one of five projects that the group has signed on to develop together.  It’s unique for a show to be a collaboration between so many different studios and especially in multiple countries, but the teamwork has paid off, and in fact, having so many different companies invested in the show has helped it appeal to such an international fanbase.  Even better, having animators in so many different countries has influenced the look and feel of Miraculous, with its magical girl feel and individual transformation sequences a nod to Japanese anime; this balances well with the glamor and flair of Paris coming from the French animators and results in a one-of-a-kind show that appeals to fan all over the world.

Fans of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir have already been making a showing at numerous fan events as well as large-scale conventions, and these fans come in every age, shape, and color.  It’s clear that Miraculous appeals to children and adults alike, and its family-friendly nature means that parents and their kids can even watch it together.  90s kids will surely enjoy the nostalgia of a well-done superhero cartoon, and everyone can enjoy the message of girl power and the portrayal of wonderful female role models.  Marinette and Adrien both show the importance of family, kindness, and doing what’s right in their normal lives, and as superheroes, they show that the day can be saved without violence and that determination and hard work will always pay off.  More notably, though, the two, whether as themselves or as superheroes, show that friendships are an important part of life, and that with your friends by your side, anything is possible, and that’s something that everyone can agree on.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Absent- Part 14

Prev parts

xxxx

“I'd like to help you.” Alternative Riza said.  “My focus was on flame alchemy.   I know I had to learn the basics but like you said, there was a lot of pressure to finish my studies before it was too late.   I learned enough to see what this is about and know it's outside my realm of understanding.  I'm sorry.”

The coin and paper felt so heavy in her hand now.   She thought that this would be the answer but it yielded nothing.   She came expecting a woman who was basically her father's shadow but instead she found a version of her that seemed functional and content.  

“I...know it seems like I was without a choice in the matter.”  The other Riza said and took a deep breath, as this was the first person she had ever been able to actually confide in.   “And at first I did it because I was afraid of the alternatives but after a while I tried to use it to understand him.  I thought that by learning alchemy and embracing his life's work as my own that maybe I could see why it was more important than me.   I guess a part of me thought that if I wasn't worth something before I might be worth more as an alchemist.   Like turning lead into gold.  Two elements so close but one worthless and one prized.”

“Did it work?”  Riza had to ask. Her father was the enigma she could never start to comprehend.

“No.”  The answer was so sad. “When I produced that first controlled flame....success came with fear.  There was no pride, there was no smile of triumph.   When he saw what his research had made, he told me I could never use it again.”

“I'm sorry.”  Riza wanted to tell her how proud she was of her, accomplishing something she didn't believe herself capable of.   Instead she knew it would be more effective to try to explain her father's reaction.  “He had effectively passed on his work and in doing so lost control over it. Without it he was nothing.   So he had to try to control how it was used.”

“I have very little use for it.” She shrugged and cocked her head.  “The other Flame Alchemist....how does he make the spark?   You said he is military, I assumed you meant a State Alchemist.  I'm sure he could tattoo his array on himself but he still needs a spark.”

“Gloves.”  Riza said and saw the other alchemist consider that.   “Ignition cloth gloves.    He snaps his fingers to make a spark and controls the oxygen in the air for targeting and flame intensity.   He has excellent control.”

“That's very...dramatic.”

Riza had to smile.   “There is a certain flair to Roy Mustang that is very unique to him.   He doesn't use flame alchemy much either, he is very careful to not show anyone exactly how powerful it is.”

“You're proud of him.”  

It was said as a statement of observation not jealousy and Riza had to smile.  “Very.”

“I hope you can save him.  I'm sorry I can't help you.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.   I am glad I came.”  She was being honest.   She feared coming here for so many reason but it felt like there was a burden lifted now.   She no longer had to worry about unearthing some long embedded issues tracing back to her childhood.   She could see her father for who he was and how she wasn't at fault.   She was just a kid and expecting herself to have done any different wasn't fair.   The woman she was today would have stood up to him, but as a child she didn't know any better.   Hindsight was always a lot clearer.  

“You should give alchemy a try.  I think you might find it's a lot easier if you look at it like you're shooting.    How you let all the peripherals fade out and just hone in on one target and nothing else exists in that moment.   You calculate the distance and wind speed and know your weapon, it all comes with practice.   I had to come to that by myself because I just couldn't focus on the energy and all the elements at play until I looked at it that way.   That's your comprehension.   Your deconstruction is the pull of the trigger and the releasing of the energy, from the impact on the primer to the ignition of powder...to the propulsion of the projectile.  Reconstruction is the collecting the bullet and harvesting the meat.  Transforming it into life once again by making it food.   It's hard to let go of everything and just focus on that target...but you have to see it and nothing else.  That target is your transmutation circle.   You just need to keep thinking about all those elements at play before pulling your trigger.   But follow through with it, stay steady and maintain focus on the object until you see it impact and then go process it and complete the cycle. “

That was actually incredibly helpful. She had never thought of alchemy like that.   Not that it would do much good now, but if she survived this she might ask Roy to show her something.   Just to see if she could.   He would transform in to that enthusiastic teenager again and, success or failure, that would be worth it.   She felt like she owned this other version of her a parting gift as well.   “You should give the  world outside of Frenau a try.   I know it has it's problems and it's hard to trust people, but there are good people out there.   People who will be better for knowing you and make you feel valued.   You have a grandfather in East City, General Grumman.  He's a goofy... somewhat inappropriate old man but he is family.   He will welcome you with open arms, no questions asked.   He'll also tell you about your Mom and....breathe some life into some vague memories.  He'll be proud of you.  Trust me.”

“I....well, thank you.”  the woman replied somewhat surprised.   She hadn't heard that name in years but the idea that she could learn more about her mother was enticing.  

With that Riza put the coin and paper in her pocket,  pet the dog one last time and let herself out.   She walked back to the car and tried to think of anyone else she could go to for help, but there was nobody better than Roy, Ed and Al for this task.   They were working on it for her and if she had the answers anywhere in her head, than it would come from them.   Her skepticism about her own ability was probably blocking her alternative self from having the answers.  

Hayate was still sitting in the passenger seat when she came back.  She opened the door and signaled for him to get out so he could pee, making sure she pet him for being a good boy before he hopped down and got out of the car.   She sat down in the drivers seat and got her gun back out and reattached it to her belt.   Then she grabbed her uniform off the back seat and put it on.    That done, she sat back and stared at the remains of her childhood home and tried to not give up hope.   This was becoming like a nightmare where she was frozen in place and couldn't run away from the terror following her.   She just wanted to get home but the key in her hand was not something she could use.

She was startled out of her thoughts as her dog jumped into her lap.   He usually waited to be told to get in but he must have sensed she needed some comfort.   In  an instant he was standing on her shoulders and looking for a hug and she relaxed and cuddled him.   He always knew when she needed some support and a distraction.   She closed her eyes and hugged her dog and tried to not think about him having to comfort Roy like this in the event of her demise.    

[clmf2601995]

Okay Satan, I love your idea but I’ll be damn if I left it at that!!!

As usual it’s underestimating people’s bond that’ll come back bite Xeharnot plan in the ass.

NortSora thought by breaking the necklace he’ll break Riku? Well it nearly did BUT Riku had wallowed in self pity those past years enough to be literally sick of it. Even more so if Sora is suffering because of it ! So Riku hurts but Sora is hurting more and that’s what really matters, despite how unhealthy this mindset is according to the others. He trains, harder, he had to reach Sora next time.

NortSora makes multiple appearances in front of people he saved, people who trusted him. They’re devastated and some even got deceived into condemning their own worlds, like Agraba or Atlantica. When Ariel ends up in Traverse Toxn this wasn’t hiw she had believed Sora would have make her see other worlds.

Riku makes a point of seeing each one of them to make sure they would not blame him. Even trying to put the blame on him if need be.

What really turn the tide is an idle conversation with Uncle Scrooge. The richest duck in the world was thanking Riku for Saving his first dive. Riku who saw how viciously he fought for a simple dime and he inquired about it. Scrooge explained that his dime was his most precious treasure. It taught him the value of work, and of determination. But wasn’t it lonely to let money take such an important part of his life? The duck smiled with a far off look. « You may see only money in there. But to me every penny in there is a memento of my adventures. When I look at them I feel every emotion I felt when I first got it. No one can take that away. »

If what the old duck said was true for him, was there still a chance to bring back Sora that way? He was looking at the broken pendant. He could see it clearly, the way Sora had clung to him like there was nothing else. How he tought that fear didn’t suit him. How he’d naively believe that he’ll always be there for Sora. Maybe he hadn’t but he still can be, as long they were still something left to remind them of that night they was no way Sora nor himself could leave that night behind. Could ignore what bring them together. After reaching that conclusion the fragment started to glow and a new Keyblade was created. One with the sole purpose to save each other from the darkness trying to destroy their bond.

When Riku meet NortSora again it’s in the Beast castle. They are in the ballroom, because of course NortSora like the others had a flair for the dramatic. When Riku summon Heartschain he laughs at him. What’s that stupid looking keyblade? Did he take a liking to recycling ? But Riku can not be deterred. He knows the real strength of his Keyblade, of his heart and of Sora’s heart. At first NortSora seems to dominate the fight. He is relentless on Riku, attacking his mind and his heart. Riku hold his ground. He knows what he has to do. « I haven’t renounce my promise yet, Sora. » NortSora is taken bu surprise and Riku seize the opportunity and drag them on Destiny Island. NortSora gets up slowly and he see Riku standing in front of the paopu tree.

« Will you promise me something in return ? »

he asks Sora’s heart, still asleep inside Xeharnort’s darkness.

« For as long I’ll be protecting you please always return to me. »

NortSora doesn’t says anything. He starts to doubt his chance of winning unscathed. He feels something when Riku makes his demand. Hesitation, doubt, fears. He can’t feel those things. Those feelings are Sora’s. But maybe as long those feelings are so negative he can keep controlling the boy. So he start throwing in Riku’s face every mistake he ever made. Not to destabilize Riku but to keep Sora Subdued.

« You can’t protect me ! You couldn’t protect yourself ! »

Every time Riku shout back at him promises and repent.

« I only make mistakes because I lost sight of you. That’s why I need you to guide me! »

NortSora enraged and Sora grew more conflicted, still afraid to believe in Riku.

« I’ve been torn apart and to fix me you only cause more harm to others ! How can I allow you to protect me if you’re gonna destroys other to do so? »

« I did what I had to. I’m not happy with everything I did, but I won’t say I’m sorry. I rather have you hate me than let harm come your way. »

« But YOU HAVE HARMED ME! » each word was accompanied by a harsh blow. « If you want to protect me, let me destroy you ! »

Riku blocked the attack and swiftly countered it...

« I’ m sorry Sora. But I’m going to hurt you one last time. »

Abd he pierced NortSora heart with Heartschain.

« Why? » NortSora coughed. « Were you lying this whole fight ? Just to take me by surprise ? »

Riku watch the bodies evaporate sadly.

« I’ll make every difficult choice to protect Sora. And What was hurting Sora the most was you. I can’t be selfish and let him hurt the others so I wouldn’t lose him. Even if he can never return he still prefers that than continue to destroy his friends. »

« You hypocrite, since when do you care about anyone but yourself? »

« You made me. For a long time I just wanted to take you away from the others, whether or not you wished it. But eventually fighting for you made me realize that the others wasn’t going to take you away. They wished for your happiness too and they even wished for mine. »

« You don’t look so happy now... » was that sorrow in his voice ? « You’re crying, Riku. »

« Yes I am, but I can hope you’re willing to grant me my wish and return to me. »

« But... what if I need you to... protect me before... I got back to you ? »

« Then wear this. I’ll find you when you’ll need it. »

The keyblade changed back into the necklace and Riku put it back on hid rightfull owner.

Sora smiled, and he was gone.

Soriku Au where Sora unfortunately becomes norted and has to face off with Riku who is trying to restore his friend. The scene of the battle is Destiny Islands, and rather then use their keyblades, Nort-Sora picks up a wooden sword and throws one right in front of Riku to fight just like they used to. Nort-sora purposely does this as part of his plan to get under Rikus skin and make him hurt.

The battle begins and as the wooden swords are clashing, Nort-sora strategically tries to get into Rikus head , not by taunting him but by taunting Sora as nothing hurts him more then what has hurt Sora. Therefore Nort-sora would menacingly do things such as mock the softness that Sora would utter Rikus name with as it humored him greatly that there was no saving him. How pathetic Soras tears and anguish were in his last few moments fighting the darkness in his heart. How the last image in his head was of a silver haired boy who failed to guard him and left him all alone. 

All of these attempts fail to successfully take Riku off guard. All but the mention of the promise that was made in the form of a necklace. This stuns Riku momentarily and Nortsora seeing this uses it to his advantage to summon his keyblade and make an attack that leaves Riku falling to the ground. Unable to make another move. 

Standing in front of Riku, Nortsora removes the necklace from around his neck and into his hand, laughing at how heavy broken promises are to carry and throws it onto the floor before stepping on it and walking away. Riku looks at the broken pieces of the necklace in complete shock, shaking as he gathers the pieces in a tight fist and close to his chest, mourning the loss of a friend he failed to protect.

[nitemice]

Hey, here's my latest post over on my main blog:

For her sixth studio album, Nerina Pallot has produced a funkier, jazzy release. And while it’s relatively short, it’s a delight throughout.

Across five (now six) albums and numerous EPs, Nerina Pallot has accrued a back-catalogue of music large enough to rival many bands that have been active much longer than her. Not only that, her track record is better than many long-active artists too. That’s not just an throwaway line; I can genuinely say that the vast majority of her music is stuff I really enjoy. I am an ever-growing fan.

Like her previous album The Sound and The Fury, Stay Lucky was funded and released through PledgeMusic. Unlike that release though, I decided to pledge towards this one. There was never any doubt I would end up buying either album. I own CD copies of all of Nerina Pallot’s albums, and have tried to track down as many of the EPs digitally as I can. It just came down to if the exchange rate made the price unreasonable, like it did last time, which thankfully it did not.

There was also a very tempting extra offered this time round. One of the purchase options was a cassette edition of Stay Lucky. Cassettes were a big part of my childhood, and I’ve been wanting to buy some albums on cassette for a while, so it took a lot of willpower not to buy that edition. In the end, it just wasn’t good value for money.

As with my other album reviews, I’ve listed previous Nerina Pallot songs each track reminds me of (with the album they come from), a rank for each track on this album, as well as a few comments about each track. Plus there’s an overview of the album as a whole at the bottom.

1. Juno

Reminds me of: Rousseau [The Sound and The Fury], Alien [Dear Frustrated Superstar] Rank on this album: 3 Juno beautifully sets the scene for this whole album. Nerina’s bluesy, vulnerable voice pairs perfectly with the light guitar and deep piano, and shines when matched by rising strings. Those rousing vocals strike straight through you. The lyrics make repeated mention of a bird, clearly tying it to the last track on the album. I’m sure there’s some deeper meaning to the rest of the lyrics, but I just couldn’t make it out.

2. Man Didn’t Walk on the Moon

Reminds me of: Seventeen [Year of the Wolf] Rank on this album: 5 Man Didn’t Walk on the Moon has a funky, yet light 70’s feel. Guitar twangs add emphasis to phrases, and backing vocals give the chorus a pseudo-gospel feel. A funk-rock guitar solo feels like it should be out of place, but isn’t. This song is about the power of infatuation, and the things it can do to a person. The title refers to the fact the narrator is so infatuated with the song’s subject, she doesn’t care about his questionable opinion on the moon landing. Believe it or not, this is a specific situation I’ve actually heard people mentioned having experienced before. Further to that, I read this song as the first part in a narrative that continues across a number of this album’s tracks. It tells the tale of a young woman, possibly a teenager, becoming intimate with a hottie on vacation. Various lyrics also point to it being set in the past.

3. Bring Him Fire

Reminds me of: Turn Me On Again [Year of the Wolf], Ain’t Got Anything Left [The Sound and The Fury] Rank on this album: 8 Bring Him Fire is a seductive, yet fiery funk number, and the track that most reminded me of Nerina Pallot’s previous work. That’s not to say it’s without its own surprises, such as a heavily distorted guitar duelling with the vocal twice in the middle of the song. Violins also are used to build up the intensity around the choruses. I read this song as a continuation of the story begun in the previous track, where the narrator is now describing her burning passion to get it on with the previously-mentioned hottie.

4. Come into My Room

Reminds me of: Geek Love [Fires], Sophia [Fires] Rank on this album: 10 Voice takes centre stage in Come into My Room, with complementary piano, and occasional touches of guitar and backing vocals. The lyrics are lustful, yet calm with a hint of innuendo. I read this song as part three of the multi-song story started on track 2. In some ways, the sentiment of this song is similar to the last, but delivered with a wholly different, more subdued tone.

5. Stay Lucky

Reminds me of: Everything’s Illuminated! [The Graduate], Human [The Graduate], Handle [The Sound and The Fury] Rank on this album: 6 Stay Lucky opens with an arpeggio-based riff, which carries throughout the whole song. The bridge/solo sounds like it’s played on a theremin, but I think it’s actually an organ of some type. The lyrics are an ode to someone who has or is pulling through a serious health scare, pledging their importance to the world. A French-language version of this track was also released, which I actually think I enjoyed more, just because I feel some of the phrases sound more rhythmic.

6. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

Reminds me of: This Will Be Our Year [Year of the Wolf], Happy [My Best Friends are Imaginary] Rank on this album: 1 The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter has the feeling of a classic jazz-blues ballad. However, it’s packed with little musical surprises, subverting your expectations. For example, going into the chorus, you expect the vocal pitch to continue down, but instead Nerina brings it up. The little touches of horns that support the lyrics made me swoon. The piano solo fits perfectly with the style, and comes in at just the perfect moment. The latter half of the solo is accompanied by voice and flute, giving it a further gentle softness. I could easily imagine someone like Shirley Bassey or Hetty Kate singing this track; it is such an instant classic for me.

7. Better

Reminds me of: Rainbow [Dear Frustrated Superstar] Rank on this album: 2 Better has a more electronic sound than the rest of this album. It opens with an ethereal feel, which quickly evolves into a funky plod, more fitting with its neighbours. This track has not one, but two prominent solos: an organ solo, which appears about halfway and maintains the tone and pace up to that point, and a saxophone solo that closes the song. I love the sax solo, with all its twists and turns. It’s a perfect cooldown to the choral chants that serve as the climax of the song, just before it. There’s also a little bit of swearing on this track, just so you know.

8. All Gold

Reminds me of: Damascus [Fires], History Boys [Year of the Wolf] Rank on this album: 7 All Gold is probably the most cryptic track on this album. It is a serene, story-heavy song, that I interpret to have some religious meaning, but I’m not totally sure. The opening riff reminds me of They Might Be Giants’ Mink Car. Violins match the vocals in the chorus, along with a rhythmic piano riff.

9. Come Back to Bed

Reminds me of: It Starts [The Graduate] Rank on this album: 9 Come Back to Bed is a seductive ballad, that would be quite at home in the repertoire of a lounge singer. The piano gives the song an extra dramatic flair, underlying the strained vocals, which give the song a genuine sense of pleading. The presence of an electric guitar solo, with a Western twang, feels like it shouldn’t fit but somehow it does and well. I also read this track as possibly a final piece in the multi-song narrative started in track 2.

10. Bird

Reminds me of: Grace [Year of the Wolf] Rank on this album: 4 Bird sees the return of the oft-mentioned bird from Juno, the opening track. In this song, the narrator looks to a seemingly carefree bird for advice on how to live life, but finds resolve within herself when she realises that even pain has its place and importance. Something about the rhythm of the vocals on this song reminds me of Jamiroquai. I can imagine an amazing disco remix. A whole choir of backing vocals kick in towards the end, giving the song, and album, a final kick of power.

When I first listened to Stay Lucky, two things struck me. The first was the shared narrative, or at the very least, cross-song themes.

As mentioned above, I interpreted five of the songs on Stay Lucky to be part of a continuous story. If this was the intention or not, I can’t be sure. Either way, these tracks clearly share some elements that make them feel connected, along with the overt connection between Juno and Bird.

In fact, I get the sense that every track is packed with literary references and deeper meaning just beyond my understanding.

The second thing that struck me was the style of the tracks. This release is dominated by songs I would classify as jazz, funk or both. This was particularly striking because before I convinced myself to pre-order Stay Lucky, I listened to the pre-release singles: Stay Lucky in English and French, Better, and Man Didn’t Walk on the Moon. Hearing those isolated samples, I didn’t get the sense of just how jazzy this album would be, which turned out to be an awesome surprise.

That said, Nerina Pallot has lost none of her pop sensibilities here, and instead puts them to fantastic use throughout. Stay Lucky is full of continued evidence of what an expert wordsmith and master of evocative imagery Nerina Pallot is, like this beauty from The Heart is a Lonely Hunter: “I will slide slowly, like honey off a knife”.

This release is characterised not just by its jazz/funk style, but also by a particular sound. A sound that is unique and recognisable throughout for its use of piano, organ and harpsichord, midwestern guitar and uplifting strings.

The solos on each track are short by industry standards, but that’s not a problem. It just means they don’t overstay their welcome, or take away from the song they’re in.

Once again, Nerina Pallot has managed to produce an album full of tracks with that characteristic “Nerina Pallot” sound, without leaning on previous work basically at all. Everything here sounds unique and new, yet immediately identifiable as Nerina Pallot. Nothing feels like a repeat or rehash of some past song. And that might be Nerina’s greatest talent: producing new, beautiful music that sounds the same, yet so totally different.

RATING: 8.5/10 – ★★★★★★★★✬☆

But you don’t have to take my word for it… Listen to the album for yourself, and make up your own mind. Then you can let me know what you think of Nerina Pallot’s Stay Lucky.

So, have you ever heard of Nerina Pallot? What’s your favourite of her songs? Did you pre-order Stay Lucky? What do you think? Did it live up to your expectations? Have I said anything you disagree with? Tell me & everyone else who passes through here what you think in the comment below.

To Infinity and Beyond,

Nitemice

Filed under: Leisure & Hobbies, Music, Reviews Tagged: music, music review, Nerina Pallot, review, stay lucky

[secondsightcinema]

Marsha Hunt: Living Well Is the Best Revenge

Last month, in October of 2017, Marsha Hunt began her 101st transit around the sun. She continues to grace our increasingly graceless planet, and while we were always lucky to have her, she seems even more precious now, when we are really in the soup.

Marsha Hunt in 2007, radiant at 90. (AP Photo/Nick Ut)

Miss Hunt is legendary among serious classic movie fans, but is largely unknown beyond our geeky precincts. Why is that, do you suppose? There are so many reasons that one artist is beloved, even iconic, while another with the same amount of talent and accomplishment is known only to the most devout movie lovers. Why is Bogart the most recognizable star of the classic movie era, while James Cagney, whose career was longer than Bogart’s and equally lustrous, is not equally venerated? Why do fantastic actors like, say, Eleanor Parker or Richard Widmark, who were big stars in their day, now languish in relative obscurity?

The most obvious answer in Miss Hunt’s case is the blacklist. Her career was thriving, and not just in film: In the summer of 1950 she had an offer to host a TV talk show and was starring in a hit on Broadway when she returned from France, where she had dined with Eleanor Roosevelt (they had met in January, 1937, when Hunt, along with Jean Harlow and Robert Taylor, visited the White House). She called her agent to check in, and the offers had dried up. That was it—poof! All gone.

While Marsha Hunt is more than worthy of celebrating for her acting, beauty and impeccable style, it’s bigger than that—that doesn’t get at the unique person she is. Hollywood has always been awash in talent and beauty. It’s the totality of her being being and her generous life that are so compelling.

The Human Comedy (1943), here with James Craig and Mickey Rooney.

That life, she acknowledges, has been extremely lucky, and I am inclined to agree with her despite the fact that her career got trampled along with so many others during the Red Scare that began in the late 1940s and spiraled into a crisis that took a sledgehammer to the American values she believed in. McCarthyism stained virtually everything it touched, with a few notable exceptions. Marsha Hunt is one of these. Her long, beautiful life is a refutation of the industry’s moral collapse under the pressure of the fear and betrayal that roiled America starting about 70 years ago, when she was 30.

All she did was refuse to compromise her ideals to save her career. All she did was let go of what she could not hold onto. After her film work dried up, she and Presnell did some international travel, and Hunt found a new focus. What she saw of hunger and homelessness challenged her to become active with the United Nations, and she became an activist. The commitment to making things better, which had not been gratified in her time at SAG as it sank into political madness, found expression in her new work. And she continued to find ways to help, not just internationally but in her own community of Sherman Oaks, California. She had never been interested in communism, and was not accused of being a member of the Communist Party. But that wasn’t a prerequisite for blacklisting. In that paranoid time, the zealous began demanding loyalty oaths and denunciations, and anything short of a blanket condemnation of communism—not just current or previous Communist Party members but anyone who had ever gone to a meeting or signed a petition that had now come under scrutiny—and loud vows to oppose it to the death were insufficient to clear oneself of suspicion.

Hunt’s great luck includes an excellent gene pool, a happy childhood with loving parents, as well as striking beauty and natural elegance, a keen mind, a good sense of humor, a long, devoted second marriage, and a deep love of and great gift for acting. And that’s not all: her passion for helping others, which found expression in the activism that absorbed her abundant energy when she could no longer work in movies, is a gift to the world. It’s truly an embarrassment of riches, and she has squandered nothing, made the most of everything. It’s no wonder that, at 100, she is still winning new fans and friends.

Hunt’s figure was perfect for fashion—her waist was 22 inches.

In the summer of 1950, Hunt’s name appeared on the infamous Red Channels list of 150 people in broadcasting who supposedly had dangerous political sympathies. Decades later the actor George Murphy, who started his career in politics as the president of the Screen Actors Guild and eventually served as U.S. Senator for California, said that there was no such thing as the blacklist. Murphy had been a passionate commie hunter during the HUAC years. Poison of this sort grows stronger when it’s denied. What did Murphy’s denial even mean, and what was he saying—was he denying his own role in this disastrous chapter in American history?

  Miss Hunt does something for hats…

  Whispering campaigns by their nature grow in darkness, which makes them difficult to counter—there’s nobody on the record who can be challenged on the facts. In the years after Red Channels, Hunt continued to work on the stage, and eventually she was again able to find sporadic film work, but she had lost the momentum built over 15 years in the business, and there was no way to regain it.

She’s actually better known now than she was 20 years ago thanks to TCM, which shows her films occasionally, as well as to her continuing presence on the classic movie scene, and to strong advocacy by the Film Noir Foundation. Just this past April she turned up unannounced at a TCM Film Festival screening, to the delight of everyone lucky enough to be in the theater. She’s still doing interviews, telling stories about the Hollywood she knew, the blacklist era, and her wonderful, lucky life. I would be thrilled to be as lucid at 60 as she is at 100, but you can’t have everything.

Marsha Hunt entertaining soldiers.

Hunt had made more than 50 movies in 15 years, and while she was not a top star, she was in demand and had appeared in some prestige pictures like Pride and Prejudice (1940), Cry Havoc (1943), and The Human Comedy (1943), as well as a number of less prominent movies well worth discovering, like Kid Glove Killer (1942) and Seven Sweethearts (1942), both with her friend Van Heflin (sigh),  A Letter for Evie (1944), Carnegie Hall (194?), Lost Angel (1943), The Affairs of Martha (1941), and more famously Raw Deal (1947), considered one of the greatest of noirs. In Raw Deal she has the unenviable task of playing the good girl, a particular challenge playing opposite the great Claire Trevor’s vulnerable bad girl. But Hunt makes the good girl believable and attractive. She says, “All I want is a little decency!” And when she witnesses Dennis O’Keefe being savagely beaten by two thugs, she has to make an agonizing choice: Shoot one of them, or watch O’Keefe being murdered. We see her face that conflict, in those few seconds. She shows it all to us without being obvious or looking contrived.

From what I’ve seen, she is never less than excellent. She is a pleasure to watch; her sensitivity to tone and nuance are always evident. As Mary Bennet, the bookish daughter whose inability to hit the high note in “Flow Gently, Sweet Afton” is a running gag in Pride and Prejudice, she spends most of her screen time in the back of group shots, but even there her reactions are perfectly calibrated to add to the sum of the dramatic effect without distracting from the more prominent characters. And her few scenes showcase her flair for comedy. If you know Hunt for other movies it takes a few seconds to register that gawky, geeky Mary is the same impeccably turned out Miss Hunt who was a costume designer’s dream. But Hunt’s ambition was never to be the biggest star, but the very best actress. She took pride in being called “Hollywood’s youngest character actress,” and did her best to live up to it.

Pride and Prejudice (1940): Maureen O’Sullivan, Hunt, Mary Boland

Marsha Hunt had been 17, already a successful New York fashion model with her sights set on becoming an actress, when her film career began in 1935. That’s when Paramount  signed her to a seven-year contract, followed by a long, happy period at MGM in the 1940s that produced most of her best-known work.

in 1947, Hunt and her husband, writer Robert Presnell Jr., didn’t think twice about joining the Committee for the First Amendment in support of the Hollywood Ten, the group of prominent writers and directors who defied the House Committee on Un-American Activities and refused to answer the infamous question “Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?” Today, Dalton Trumbo is the best known of the Ten, but Hunt didn’t know him until decades later when he hired her to play the mother in his film adaptation of his book Johnny Got His Gun. In 1947, Hunt only knew one of the Ten: screenwriter/producer Adrian Scott, who she says is one of the finest people she has ever known. Standing in support of Scott was a no-brainer for Hunt.

Raw Deal (1947)

She recalls, in her interview in Patrick McGilligan’s and Paul Buhle’s Tender Comrades: A Backstory of the Hollywood Blacklist, that when she served on the Screen Actors Guild’s board in 1946-47, she was a political innocent. Her father was an extremely conservative Republican, and at first she had been uncertain about even the idea of labor unions because he so disliked them. But her interest and concern in the lives of others was stirred by the meetings, where at first she just listened, but then she began to speak up. She wanted to address the serious issues affecting the membership, including Olivia de Havilland’s suspension by Warner Bros, and stereotyping in casting—not just the very narrow restrictions on the kinds of roles offered to minorities, but how those all-too-rare characters were written. But increasingly, the union’s leadership was focused not on these issues but on what they believed to be the threat of communist infiltration of the industry.

“Flow Gently, Sweet Afton”: Hunt’s dodgy intonation is the movie’s running gag.

Director Sam Wood was among those who in 1944 founded the Motion Picture Alliance [for the Preservation of American Ideals], a single-issue organization dedicated to rooting out supposed industry infiltration by communists. The politically conservative membership included Ayn Rand, Ronald Reagan, Barbara Stanwyck, Robert Taylor, George Murphy, Ward Bond, Walter Brennan, Clarence Brown, Leo McCarey, Irene Dunne, Laraine Day, Dick Powell, and Ginger Rogers, and many of HUAC’s friendly witnesses were drawn from its ranks. These were the people eager to “name names,” though given their political sympathies, the idea that they would know who was batting for the other side seems ridiculous.

Their eagerness to protect America from what they perceived as a real danger was evident, and despite a paucity of evidence regarding communist messages being smuggled into Hollywood movies, the advent of the Cold War provided fertile soil for what it’s now clear was their paranoia. The relationship between HUAC and Hollywood—the studios, the unions, and the Motion Picture Alliance—further confused issues for those accused of being commies. How could you find out who had named you, and how did you fight back? Who did you see to restore your reputation, to regain your position in the industry and community?

Pride and Prejudice (1940): She finally hits that high note when she meets her match.

But that was a few years later. In 1947, nobody could yet see where things were headed. Hunt and Presnell joined other prominent Hollywood liberals like John Huston, William Wyler, Edward G. Robinson, Paul Henreid, Humphrey Bogart, and Lauren Bacall who formed an organization of their own, the Committee for the First Amendment. They only knew that American values, starting with the freedoms enshrined in the First Amendment, were under siege, and they believed that standing in support of the Constitution, as well as their friends and colleagues, was the right thing to do.

The group chartered a plane and flew to Washington in support of the Ten, to attend the HUAC hearings where their testimony had been subpoenaed. Hunt recalls the overnight flight from Los Angeles as cheerful and optimistic, with friendly groups greeting them at the airports they stopped at on the way. Nobody on that flight, and none of the Ten, had any idea what they were about to face. They were about to get their first taste of the ferocity, power, and intractability of the forces arrayed against them, and the mood was altogether different on the flight back home—the contagion of fear had infected them, and their group dissolved soon after.

Marsha Hunt (at front) with the Committee for the First Amendment, on their way to Washington to attend HUAC hearings in 1947. They were confident and optimistic on the way to Washington; the mood was very different on the way home.

Hunt says that they faced immediate hostility, including from the press. Some sources  quoted her as saying things she not only did not but would never say, just as her listing in Red Channels a few years later would list political affiliations she never had. Where did the damning information come from? We will probably never know.

Hunt believes she fell under suspicion from her SAG work, from her attempts to refocus the union on what she saw as its core issues, but more specifically because she contradicted previous SAG president Robert Montgomery’s account of an attempt to merge SAG with the Directors Guild of America and the Screen Writers Guild. He was the venerated insider; she was the earnest newbie who lacked political sophistication. And, though she doesn’t say this, perhaps misogyny also played a part—that is, perhaps her account was discounted before she opened her mouth.

Raw Deal (1947): Director Anthony Mann and cinematographer John Alton shoot Hunt with great delicacy

In any case, after their Washington excursion, those who defended freedom of speech were told they needed to distance themselves from their now-tainted colleagues. Hunt heard that Bogart and Bacall had been called on the carpet at Warner Bros and told in no uncertain terms that their careers were on the line, which shows you how out of whack things already were—usually if you’re making money for the company, they will allow you some leeway in these matters, and Bogart and Bacall were huge stars. But what had been concern over eroding civil rights began to bleed into panic, and Bogart released a statement to square himself with his bosses and the suspicious minds of the Motion Picture Alliance. He was among the first of what would become a flood of artists who would fold under the pressure and compromise their ideals to avoid ruin. It’s hard to overstate the power of seeing the Ten lose everything—not just their power and lucrative careers, but their houses, their marriages. And some of them did prison time. The chilling effect on Hollywood’s liberals permeated everything. Hunt says she waved hi to a friend at the supermarket, and the friend looked away. As she says, it was a cowardly time in Hollywood.

As Victor Navasky writes in Naming Names, his study of the political and ethical disaster that was taking shape:

“The talent blamed their agents, and the agents blamed the studios, and the studios blamed HUAC, and HUAC blamed the pressure groups. The pressure groups blamed their members, said their hands were tied. (However, when the national commander of the American Legion told Martin Gang that the Legion helped to circulate the names of subversives only because their members insisted on it, his fellow attorney Milton Rudin made a tour of Legion posts across the country, only to find that few of the members really cared.) Lawyers blamed their clients, and clients blamed their lawyers. Blacks blamed The Man.

Thirty years after the documented fact, George Murphy asserts that there never was a blacklist. Denial of fact can always be disproved by evidence; not so denial of responsibility.”

 *     *    *

  Marsha was lucky again, among the victims of the blacklist: Her husband, bafflingly but fortunately, was not blacklisted, so he continued to work, and they were able to keep their home. While movies, TV, and radio were closed to her, she was able to work in stock and on Broadway. The money was in no way comparable to what she had made in movies—and she says that while she was never among the high earners, she did well enough—but she got to keep doing the work she loved and contributing something to the family coffers.

Raw Deal (1947), with Dennis O’Keefe

In the plague time of the blacklist, panic drove out decency—that word that finally struck at Joseph McCarthy, the Grand Inquisitor, when Joseph Welch spoke for the nation and denounced the great denouncer, saying “Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?” (And remember Marsha Hunt’s character in Raw Deal saying, “All I want is a little decency!”) Those with a will to power, as they always do, exploited the situation to become judges and executioners as well as fixers who could save you if you’d just follow their instructions and say what they told you to say, denounce who they told you to, condemn your own past, your own ideals, your friends and colleagues.

So there is something particularly surprising and lovely about Marsha Hunt being pretty much the last (wo)man standing from the blacklist era. Miss Hunt somehow evaded the taint. She sold no one out, including herself. She suffered the loss of a career that was developing solidly, and that she loved with all her heart. We lost all the movies she would have made had her life in the movies not been cut off suddenly and irrevocably. It is a serious loss because she was an excellent actress with a unique screen presence and a look all her own, suffused with inner radiance. But in the end it is the radiance that has prevailed. Perhaps Marsha Hunt is still here to remind us that, no matter how dark things may be, in the long run, decency will prevail.

This post was written for the CMBA 2017 fall blogathon. Head on over to see the other entries; you’ll be glad you did…

from Second Sight Cinema | http://ift.tt/2jERcmw via http://ift.tt/1om9FS6