#so he just has to resort to gesturing like a silly little cartoon
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SHOWING OFF THE WILL3 FITS!!!!
#JAYWILLS HAPPY DUMB LIL PROUD FACE AS HE SHOWS THE JERSEY OFF 😭😭#lu SNATCHING it from the poor third wheel william 😭 just to show it off better?? lmao???#jdub moving a teammate away so he can try to squeeze in 😭#AND STILL BEING TOO SMALL FOR *HIS* WILLIAMS JERSEY TO BE SHOWN ON SCREEN#so he just has to resort to gesturing like a silly little cartoon#WHY DIDNT U ASK JAY TO HELP U??? HE SURELY WOULDVE WITHOUT A QUESTION !!!!!#he lifts jdub to the camera like lifting a cat thats going to say meow#jwilli#jwilly#lulu
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What We Do In The Shadows
( Warning, this is in RP format, but has been edited and proof read for grammar/flow. A change between writers with both characters is symbolized by italics. )
Chapter 2: Entering The Wolf’s Den
Werewolves and vampires: two species that are mortal enemies. But in a small town in Upstate New York, they seemed to find a way to co-exist by staying out of each other's way and minding one's business. However, the dynamics of the local pack of werewolves and coven of vampires would change when a certain pair got too close for comfort. Alfred is an over seventy-year old werewolf posing as local law enforcement, while Ivan is a centuries old vampire working at a blood bank. Both try to get through the struggles of being immortal creatures, who find themselves in a cultural and family struggle when they fall for each other. Between an anti-vampire pack leader, suspicious in-laws, and a death that could nearly tear two families apart, the pair questions if a relationship is a reality, or if they have too much baggage they carry.
Alfred could tell he offended his baby bat. From his body language to ‘Don’t wait up’, his vampire was not pleased with being forced alone and having to wait. It seemed that the vampire had a lot of pride, they were prideful creatures after all. Being told by the wolf ‘Hang by yourself then’ must have hurt his ego, as he reached out to hang out with Ivan in the first place. Smelling the man’s disdain, once he got back into his room, he hoped that Ivan would knock on his door again. But when he didn’t he did pout. Perhaps he was too harsh on his crush. Rethinking his actions, he did wish Ivan would have knocked on his door. He would welcome the man in and enjoyed some light cuddling while he watched dragons breath fire on people. However, it seemed to be that the man was too offended by the idea. Watching the show, he got bored as he wished Ivan was next to him. Thinking for a moment, he came up with an idea to tempt Ivan into his apartment. Standing up, he didn’t bother to pause the show as he went into his room. Grabbing his pencil and sketch pad, he decided to let Ivan see his secret hobby: drawing. His love of anime and cartoons inspired him to take up drawing as a hobby. But he was very embarrassed about it, and would rarely show people his artwork. Even if it was great and matched up well with popular artists on social media, his own anxiety made it a hidden talent. He’d let very few people see his drawings, for him it was about the fun of it. He didn’t need validation for it, it was his hobby. He’d color, sketch, and draw, just for himself. Sitting back on the sofa, he decided to use a more cutesy-anime style. Drawing him and Ivan, he gave Ivan little bunny ears, and wolf ears on himself. Nicknames like ‘bunny’ and ‘ kitten’ were ones he saved for people he found cute.
It was ironic since it was the prey of wolves. He did want to eat up a cute bunny or kitten, but more in a playful manner. Ivan’s foreign accent made him think of a hot blonde he’d see at a ski resort. With the cutesy image of him and the bunny, he made sure to draw him smirking and showing off his canine teeth. Ivan didn’t look scared in the art, only giving the cocky smirk he usually gave Ivan. It was only their heads and torsos, and on the top, he wrote ‘After your sister’s leave, wanna get something to eat?’. It was Alfred’s peace offering. Getting up, he walked to Ivan’s apartment door. Instead of knocking, he simply slipped the art under his door. Ivan would come across it once he was around the area. He didn’t want to disturb the blood-sucking bunny current if he truly had plans. Going back to his room, he continued on his Game of Thrones binge, praying that the vampire would come by later. In terms of a ‘meal’, it could be anything the man wanted. They could go hunting together, Ivan finding some unsuspecting human, and Alfred a lonely deer. Or, more orthodox, actually somewhere to snack. Or just stay in his house and cook something homemade. Whatever the man had a thirst for, blood or food.
Over in his own apartment, Ivan put a sponge to his red-stained mugs, putting his strength into getting the crusted blood left to the bottom. When he turned his heel to load his dishwasher something white caught his eye. He set his dishes in the rack before scanning the floor before his door. Stepping away from the sink, he approached the mysterious note and turned his head to look down upon it. Recognizing the resemblance of his face, his cheeks flushed with red. He bent down and snatched up the paper into his hands. His heart nearly lurched from his chest and onto the freshly spotless floor. He'd have to deal with the recycled blood burning his face for a few more minutes before getting over the gesture. The strange conversation and insight earlier blended oddly with the feeling he had now. Mostly charmed, but slightly uneasy. He found it bold, not unwelcomed, but surprising from Alfred. His finger traced over the leaded indentations as he took a seat at his breakfast nook. It was beyond flattering, a style he hasn't seen before, but charming. He thought of it slightly egotistical to be set next to the man who drew it, but grateful for it. It made it easier on his eyes. Bunny ears. That was a new one for him. Bat wings were a popular addition for scriptures and etchings. He wasn't used to seeing some draw him in a kindly way. Most depictions of him resonated with evil tellings and horrifying accounts of his figure hunched over a decaying body. Town folk never were pleased when he would make an appearance in their streets. It's why moving was a must for him, he needed supplies like everyone else. Curiosity struck him as he wondered how much moving Alfred must have been up to. Being ageless caused too much suspicion. 'My, Avgustin, you don't look a day over twenty-five' were the last words he heard before leaving his old home behind. Sometimes he wishes to grow old.
The little question scribbled down beside the art was one he had to consider thoroughly. One that made his heart stop. He rattled his fingers across the surface of the table and reread the words. 'your sisters' it didn't make any sense to him, he swore up and down that he didn't whisper a word of his relations. Sighing and sliding the paper away from him, he sat quietly to calm his nerves and lay his head down on the table. He did plan on inviting his sisters over and that included sharing his haul of blood, but now all he wanted to do was head next door and talk to Alfred. The warmth clung to him like it usually did, an unbearable heat holding to his face. It would only embarrass him further to give in so easily. He pressed his face into the cool wood and closed his eyes for a moment before leaving it behind. Nothing would give him closure, he wanted to be next to Alfred and that would be the only way to get the werewolf out of his thoughts. Groaning, he began finishing up the rest of his dishes. After flicking on his dishwasher, he took the art and walked it back to his room. He was trying to wait out the lingering warmth to his face and most of it faded, but not all of it would give him that peace. Before he finally left his apartment, he messaged his sibling group that he wouldn't be home. There wasn't much his poor sisters could do if something were to go wrong, but he just didn't want them asking him to death about where he went. Hesitantly, he knocked on Alfred's door and waited. His heart didn't stop racing, he didn't find himself nervous around werewolves very often, but Alfred had that effect on him.
It was good for Alfred’s ego that he wasn’t there to witness Ivan’s reaction to the note. Seeing blushing, flattered Ivan would cause the wolf to grin, and show off his canines in the glory of knowing he charmed the vampire. It would be in Ivan’s best interest to let Alfred enjoy it if he enjoyed the ‘bunny’ persona, as Alfred would happily go with it. A cute nickname for a cute boy, not to mention, Alfred understood the niceness of not being referred to something scary. Alfred was like Ivan in that way, no one knew better than him what it was like to be personified into a godless beast, with nothing charming and cute about it. Being compared to something as harmless and pretty as a bunny was probably emotionally soothing, which was part of the reason Alfred did it. A bunny is adorable, warm, and cozy, the last thing that goes to someone’s head is fear over the animal. Ivan could be Alfred’s harmless, sweet bunny if he wanted too. Even if Alfred drew himself to be a wolf, he was still a childlike puppy in many ways, even with the slight bloodlust that he had. Minus that, he was a silly, carefree man. But the transformation did take some part of his personality and make it more intense. Alfred was lost in his marathon when he could smell Ivan walking down the hallway.
Sniffing the air, a smile popped out when he could smell the nervousness on him. Has the note made him nervous? He wasn’t sure if it was ’I’m nervous about how excited I am to see him...’ or ’I’m just scared of him’ anxiety, he couldn’t smell that. Only that the man was dealing with some emotions due to the note. He wondered if the part about his sister’s had made Ivan worried. In all honesty, it was just a bold guess on who was coming over. Alfred was aware that Ivan had siblings or at least relatives, he could smell other vampires around, and two females had a similar scent to him. He concluded that someone was either related to him, and a female. Sister’s were the most logical answer, but cousins, aunts, and other distant relatives were all possible. Alfred’s lucky guess had helped his case. Standing up, he walked to the door, offering Ivan a gentle smile as he raised a brow. “Did your plans cancel? That sucks. But, you’re welcome to come in, babe. I got a spot on the sofa for you.” He stepped back to let Ivan inside his house, the first time he’s ever done that. Inviting a vampire into your home? The biggest no-no in the world, but here was Alfred not caring, per usual. He was going to bring up how they’d dined tonight, either traditional or unorthodox, but he’d give Ivan a moment to settle in before speaking of murder and hunting. He was a gentleman after all! Sitting down on the couch, he leaned back and patted the seat next to him.
Being a man who admired his dignity more than his enjoyment, Ivan had already become irritated with his own decision. He was visiting a friend, he didn't understand why he had to make it stand out so much for himself. There wasn't any loss to giving in to spend time with someone you enjoy, but he couldn't help but consider how overly friendly the drawing was. Trying not to overthink it, he mimicked the grooves he felt and pressed them into the palm of his hand. He adored the small act, but it was overshadowed by the fact that Alfred was a suitable match against him. The fact that he actually found himself pining after the chummy little wolfman was alarming at times. He was risking many aspects of his life by even accepting the invitation to come over. If he ever got closer to Alfred, it wouldn't be logical. With the outgoing personality Alfred shined out constantly, he was sure that he couldn't be a lone wolf. There were others. He smelt them when he walked down the street or by chance in the meat section of the corner store. Werewolves, vampires, they all hid in plain sight, but it wasn't right for him to assume that all of their kind knew each other. Much like dogs though, he knew that werewolves must greet each other. Alfred had to have at least, he guaranteed himself that. It confused him to be welcomed in with that case, it scared him almost. He didn't understand why Alfred trusted him so much when he knew what he was. Unfortunately, a vampire's sense of smell isn't as powerful as a dog's thus he wasn't able to detect other bodies in the apartment. His nose was just used to Alfred passing by and in his baskets of clothes.
He wrote off the name babe quickly, trying to blame it on habit. "My plans didn't cancel. You were just acting particularly lonely so I thought I would give in and offer you some company." Teasing, he calmed down significantly at the sight of Alfred smiling patiently. Elated by the idea of finally setting foot into Alfred's humble abode with the help of some keywords, he beamed and eased his head through the doorway. He's never seen beyond the door so it was a new experience for him. It wasn't much different than his habitat, the layout was a given, but he didn't catch any deers hanging from the ceiling so it was a bonus. Ivan liked to keep his living area tidy along with his kitchen, but once someone hits his room, that's when everything starts falling apart. Never does he bother to make his bed or take out his clothes from the basket to hang them up. His nightstand, though barely a foot wide, somehow holds a lamp, three different alarm clocks, and always a few dirty dishes. A part of him wanted to head through Alfred's apartment and check out his bedroom. "When were you going to tell me that you knew how to draw?" He paced over to the sofa and took a seat away from Alfred, a cushion between the two of them so he had some space.
Alfred was pleased to have Ivan enter his house. The bunny entering the wolves den, almost. Stretching out his legs, he rested one of his arms on the headrest, eyes lingering to his shows. Ivan's excuse was cute, he didn’t even cover up with a lie about them canceling. He canceled on them for him. What about that, it added to Alfred’s ego. His eyes were careful not to linger too long, but every few moments, they’d turn to Ivan’s body as he found a quick way to verbally eat him up. “Well, thanks for giving the company. And I don’t really like talking about it since I get shy... It’s kind of a personal thing. I just draw things for myself, and no one else.” It truly was a personal hobby, but he would draw more for Ivan again if it made the man come around often. It worked the first time, so why not again? He wouldn’t mind after all. He smirked when someone was murdered on the screen. Alfred’s house proved to be on average with a clean to messy ratio. He wasn’t the cleanest guy, but he wasn’t the stereotypical dirty, living off of paper plates type of dude either. He knew how to mop, take out the trash, and vacuum, but sometimes would get lazy with dishes and let it pile up.
His habit of being sexually open also gave him a reason to keep his apartment good looking. Showing a cute boy or girl a disgusting, dirty apartment would be embarrassing. His room was surprisingly not that bad, his only problem with being lazy and letting clean clothes stay in a pile and not putting them away. He’d also never make his bed, but he’d always throw away garbage in fear of getting ants in his room. He was proud of a fox fur blanket that he had, he’d love to show Ivan. It was during a couple of days in wolf form, he hunted down several silver foxes. They are known for being used heavily in the fur trade, and lucky enough, he was able to find some living in the wild nearby. It took a few days of stalking, but he was able to hunt down enough for the blanket. Another older werewolf knew how to skin fur and make coats and blankets, and helped him with the process. It was special to him, proving his strength and hunting skills. It was also soft and luxurious; usually, he had to lie to people and say it was a gift or passed down in his family. There wasn’t much pride in saying someone gave it to him. But with Ivan, he could open up and tell how he got something worth thousands of dollars in his hands; he worked for it. The warm fur was perfect during cold winter nights in upstate New York. “I’m so lucky to have a nice friend like you. I owe you a warm meal after this...” He teased, patting Ivan’s leg before putting it back in his own lap, eyeing the TV.
"You being shy? That's a first. With the way you draw, I thought you would boast about it." Ivan was trying to compliment his host, something small, but not enough to curse himself with. In both ways, Alfred's ego was something he had to handle with caution. Cheer on the man too much and he'll be putting up with cocky smirks up until the time he had to leave. Say something a little too cruel and the bubbly wolf will turn into a babbling mess. Simply acknowledging that fact to Alfred would tear him up one way or another, Ivan knew it and planned to keep things nice and light. "You somehow captured your narcissism on a single piece of paper, it's really impressive." He made sure to sound disingenuous, eyes taking note of Alfred's position. As time went on, the show became less interesting to him. Any shock value or plot development was drowned out by the way the werewolf's face lit up. The small dust of color that humans held in their cheeks was pumping across Alfred's face. He could feel the warmth radiating off the other body. If he buried his face into Alfred's shoulder, he could get a little taste. He didn't plan on chomping down hard, just a small nip. All he needed was a drop of blood to satisfy his burning curiosity. Alfred was too smart, the vampire knew that he'd be shoved away if he even kissed his neck.
There was pride in tackling down a difficult opponent, he understood that. He had grown immune to feeling too miserable about killing some creature or human off. Animals weren't inherently evil, but humans could be. He's witnessed hundreds and hundreds of years of solid proof of how villainous a single human can be. It gave him some peace to think that he was killing off someone who deserved it, but the consequences of his actions stabbed into his thoughts when a moment was too quiet. They were all just people like him and his sisters, but he couldn't help the survival of the fittest. It was inevitable that he would kill again, he knew that his blood bank job wouldn't last forever. Eventually, he'd have to relocate again, find new prey and discover more immortals. Alfred, for now, was a dash in his timeline, but he hoped to extend it. He wanted to stay a little longer and enjoy his time with the werewolf. The thought of dining outweighed heavily on his mind, but one he was certain that what he was nearly drooling over wasn't what Alfred was implying. He could lurch over and sink his fangs into the nape of his dear friend's neck and sample the blood. "I'm lucky to have a good friend like you too... and, as friends, I'm sure you don't mind me asking how old are you- how old you really are." Returning the physical contact, he reached over and pinched at Alfred's cheek. It slightly broke his heart to be called a friend, but it was what they were and he'd rather be on Alfred's good side than be against him.
“I’m glad you like my art.” He commented, rolling his eyes as he slightly blushed from the words. He was embarrassed by the skill but loved it still. He had plans of doodling Ivan later if he had the time. Perhaps even slipping it under his door again. But it was the best of Ivan’s interest to not kiss or go near Alfred’s neck. While he did adore the vampire; he wasn’t born yesterday. Far from it, and it would win a physical push or any other action that showed dominance. The wolf inside him was an Alpha, no doubt. There would be no neck biting, kisses, or smooches unless Ivan wanted a bite back in his neck. But Alfred did accept the pinch, finding it cute that the man was finally getting to the point. After all the time they’ve been neighbors, now he wants to know some real information? He’d play, as long as Ivan played back. “My age? Well, I like to tell people I’m twenty-three. Most people buy it. I was really born in 1941 though, so I guess I look young for my age! Ha! What about you?” He turned, his eyes smiling along with his lips. Raising a brow, he looked at Ivan up and down, checking out the man. He picked up details from his encounters with Ivan and compared to it how other vampires acted. “What are you? Four? Five? Six hundred? Oh wait- Are you post or pre Catherine The Great?” He teased, knowing basic Russian history. His adulthood was during the height of the Cold War, so he knew a lot about Russia.
He was about to make a joke about if Ivan was post or pre ‘Commie-Russia’, but he didn’t want the man huffing and puffing out of his house. Ivan appeared to be the type that might be highly offended by a stereotypical ‘commie’ joke, so he wasn’t going to play his cards. He had the bunny in his den, no need to ruin it. Taking a chance, he decided to lay his head on Ivan’s outer leg. Adjusting his body, he laid on his sides as his eyes stayed on the screen, but his head was resting on top of Ivan’s thigh. He wanted a way to feel Ivan without touching her per se. His messy, blond hair was screaming to be touched, Alfred’s cheek pressing against his leg. He tried to act relaxed as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Man, sometimes I feel old but I bet you feel ancient when anyone speaks to you, huh?” He joked, appearing not to be startled by the conversation. He wondered, was Ivan’s skin soft? Could he blush? Was his fat soft? If he squeezed him, would it feel like a stone? Or skin? He never got close enough to a vampire to touch them intimately, the only times he’s had his physical contact with vampires was in wolf form, killing them in his bite. Not a great comparison to what he wanted to do to Ivan.
Ivan was thrilled to receive a blush, it always warmed his ever slow and cold heart. It made the involuntary expression even more rewarding when regarding that Alfred was a perilous creature just as he was. He felt a bit guilty for not having anything ready to give back when he came over. Drawing wasn't much of a passion for him, he was more into crafts. He could knit something for Alfred, but he wasn't sure if that would be too bold. With how high strung he wound himself up to be, he figured that the werewolf didn't fall far from the feeling around him. Anything made to comfort was suspicious as if to butter the other up. He had to be careful not to cross any lines and set alarms off in Alfred's head. Even if he wanted to drag the relationship further along and at least get to hug on Alfred without being awkward or stepping over bounds, he knew he had to be slow. It was a precaution for himself and Alfred. Hearing the werewolf's real age was a good step, not too big but not too small of a step. "Ah, so you're... in your seventies? My, I guess you really have aged well. Twenty-three does fit you more than an old man who's lived through a world war." It was better to congratulate Alfred than to compare himself to him. To be given a seemingly honest answer was a bit of a surprise to him in the first place. There were a dozen more questions he wanted to ask about the American. He's never found a werewolf civil enough to sit down and talk to; he wanted to know everything about the culture and the process. He wasn't clear on whether or not Alfred was joking or not, grimacing either way. "Do I really come off as that young? Young enough to be post Catherine the Great... That's nice to know." The home he knew wasn't quite developed enough to secure the capital and allow a ruler. "I was there before they even had tsars."
He held his tongue when Alfred cozied up onto his leg, a faint smile to his lips as his hand twitched. "I prefer the term antique... even if being born in 1174 does make me more of a relic." Propping his head upon the armrest, he inched his fingers along his thigh towards Alfred's head. He could abuse the trust, grab the werewolf, and snap his mouth around his waiting neck, but he had better control over his intrusive ideas. "How do people become... werewolves? Is it by a bite from a werewolf or maybe something more ritualistic? I assume they don't consent to it, right?" Asking along, he slowly combed his fingers through Alfred's hair. Later on, he'd have to scrub himself down to get rid of the scent before his family meets him pinching their nose. "Or should I not ask that? It might be too personal." His smile calmed as he teased the other by scratching at the area behind his ear. "I'm sure you don't mind though."
He was happy to feel Ivan’s fingers play with his neck and hair. Ivan not rejecting his touches, but accepting them was all he wanted. Yawning, he closed his eyes as he let his body relax around the man. He was even getting used to the smell, the overly sweetness not bothering him much anymore. “Wow... You are antique... I feel young compared to you, and I can remember Vietnam, Korea, the Middle East, and the Cold War.” Fighting for freedom and America was close to his heart. “My father fought in world war 2, and I entered Vietnam.” Coming back from service due to some injuries was how it happened; one day, camping with his comrades celebrating a return from service, they were attacked by a wolf. Alfred was the only one who survived, getting a deep cut on his chest. He put a silver bullet in the chest of the wolf, making it pay for taking his friend’s lives, but in the end, it’s curse never stopped. “You get bit or scratch. I got scratched, really hard. Most people die when they get bit or scratched, but I survived. I killed the wolf who attacked me and my friends. One silver bullet. That’s all it took...” Alfred whispered, his leg twitching when his ear was scratched. “How did you become a vampire...? It’s your turn to tell....” He asked, wanting to know every detail. “Did it hurt?” He asked, wondering if the transformation caused pain. It did for Alfred, becoming human to a werewolf the first time. The pain he wished he could forget. He turned his head up, looking up at Ivan with big eyes. Curious eyes that wanted the truth, not games. He pushed his body up, so more of his back and head was laying across Ivan’s lap, not just his thigh. Like a true puppy, he wanted to take all the attention and show his dominance. Laying on Ivan, and getting a pet was truly dog-like at this point. But the man could be more of a puppy than a wolf, he just had to be in the right mood. A great, calm, playful mood.
There was no heat coming off Ivan’s body, the only source of warmth was Alfred. He couldn’t feel any heat over his clothes, he guessed if it put his hands on bare skin, Ivan would be chilly. He wondered if vampires feel hard or still have a softness to them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m just curious. Vampires, are you guys stone? Or is your fat soft? Do you guys blush?” He asked, attempting to seem innocent. Blinking a few times, his innocent expression turned into a cocky grin. “If I grabbed your ass, would you move in my hand and turn red? Or? Would it be like grabbing a rock?” He asked, knowing he’d get an eye roll from Ivan, but he didn’t care. He needed to know the answers to his weird questions. His brain wondered a lot of things about Ivan and vampires overall. While he assumed that Ivan wouldn’t let him touch him with a ten-foot pole, he still is curious if the occasional thought is accurate.
"I guess you really earned your dog tags that day." Ivan offered lightly, laughing quietly at the puppy-like mannerisms of a grown man visible unwinding over his lap. Turning into a werewolf sounded just as much of a travesty as being a vampire to him. He didn't have to imagine what waking up in a new body was like, but he didn't think that he could ever really fully understand what Alfred went through either. How he earned his status as a vampire was a shorter story, but he'd spare Alfred the details. There wasn't much special about the day when he first laid eyes on the tall lanky figure barrelling toward him, but the pain was still distinct and stabbing. If he hadn't been at death's doorstep that day, he would have put up a better fight, but being at his age back then was a time for letting the earth take you. His body was preserved in the age he died and awakened. His eldest sister landed at twenty-nine and his youngest encased himself with health by being eternally twenty. They could age at will, but never make themselves younger. In that aspect, he considers himself lucky, but being a vampire wasn't his fondest thing. The moment was still fresh on his mind, how vulnerable he was, and how he let the same fate happen to his sisters. It was embarrassing to retell his inevitable cowardice. Since then, he's become more agile and stronger, but that was mostly due to his transformation. "There's a serum that comes out only from certain fangs, but you can feel it course all over your body when they stab into your neck... It hurts about as much as someone sticking two needles into you- you don't like those, do you? That's fine." He continued to tease Alfred over the blunt lie, refusing to call him out on it. It was hard for him to give that up. "I couldn't turn you into a vampire though, I'd only end up sucking your blood because I don't have the stuff to inject you with."
The science behind being a vampire wasn't widely available, but he tried to pass on the information he learned over the years as best he could. "The original vampires are the only ones who carry the serum to turn others into vampires... I'm not sure how they came about- no one does, but them." He separated and wiggled his fingers through more sections of Alfred's hair as he explained, grinning at the way his leg jerked like a dog. It was precious to his heart. "Every millennium or so, they show their face from their tomb and bite a few more unsuspecting victims. That's what I and my sisters have gathered from different vampires at least." The facts were hazy and never written down in fear of discovery. His thoughts trailed off as he enjoyed the heat coming off Alfred when he stretched across his lap. The inquiry seemed wholesome enough at first and he didn't mind answering it until Alfred had to make it dirty. "Oh, I don't know. If I slapped you in the face, would it be soft? Would you be blushing?" He snapped sarcastically, squishing Alfred's cheeks together in turn. "We're not gargoyles! Our skin is just the same as human flesh... So, yes... I guess if you were to grab my ass, it would turn red and move, but I'm not about to give you an example." Patting his face before returning to play with his hair, Ivan furrowed his brows. He grew up in a different time, getting those sorts of comments wasn't something he was used to. "Why are you curious about that sort of thing anyway? What makes you think I'll answer any questions after that?" Frustrated, he went back to scratching behind Alfred's ear to calm himself and the warmth sprouting over him. "Make it up to me by telling me how the moon affects you.
Alfred was shocked to learn the truth about vampires. He was told that all vampires had venom that had the potential to kill. Finding out that only a few did make him relieved, vampires aren’t as dangerous as he was told before. Seeing that even other vampires were unsure how they got the venom explained why his own kind was misinformed. Not to mention, vampires never made it clear about that little fact, nor would Alfred see why they would. Most vampires would rather seem scary and dangerous, having a poison inside them looming over someone’s head. “So? If you bite someone, you don’t have any venom? You’d inject nothing? That’s crazy, everyone thinks all vampires have something in their teeth.” This didn’t mean vampires were harmless, he knew that the creatures had superhuman strength and skill just like him. If a vampire wanted a werewolf dead, it was completely possible. Alfred was biased, and always thought he had the upper hand against vampires. In his personal, werewolf opinion, they were faster and stronger than vampires. But it came to pride than anything else, Alfred would never let his kind down. Even if he thought being a werewolf was more of a curse at times, he would show honor and stand up for himself and his other pack members. They weren’t human anymore, but they were still living beings. “Werewolves, we are different I guess. In wolf form, I think our saliva and body fluids when entering someone else’s skin, can turn them. I think of it as an illness... You get exposed, you’re one of us. With bites, it’s easy to see why it gets into someone’s bloodstream. I’m less sure about scratches though, how it turns us into werewolves. I’m gonna guess there’s just something in our claws that carries the virus.”
Alfred was no scientist, and there wasn’t exactly anyone out there experimenting and explaining the biology of werewolves. He couldn’t hold back his laugh when Ivan pinched his cheeks and got annoyed with his question. He deserved all the cheek squishes! “I just wanted to make sure my wet dreams were scientifically actual, that’s all.” He teased, closing his eyes when Ivan scratched the back of his ear. “Mm....” He lightly groaned, his leg twitching slightly. “Ugh. I hate full moons, man. It doesn’t make us mindless or crazy; we just are forced into wolf form as long as the moon is out. So usually, we have to stay outside. It isn’t too bad in the summer and spring, but when it’s cold out it's kind of annoying to have to find shelter. Nowadays, I go over to my friend Allen’s house during full moons. He has basically a farm and tons of areas that we can just... chill and wait out the full moon. It’s why I left the city, it’s one thing to find somewhere to hide during the countryside, another thing we’re everyone’s running around.” Alfred viewed it as more of an inconvenience if anything. Having to plan his life around one night was annoying! Making sure he had no work, no one visiting, no one expecting him, and if anyone needed to contact him, he was M.I.A for about twelve hours. Alfred got over being horrified about his werewolf status, so more just bothered. “It’s just irritating to have to plan around full moons. But it’s just one day of the month a least....” He took a deep breath, deciding to ask Ivan a question. “Vampires, do you guys like....? Do you guys have a preference when it comes to blood? Like, do certain races taste different? Or is there a difference between boys and girls?”
"I may not be able to turn you, but I can still drain every ounce of blood out of you and leave you as a husk." He didn't like being underestimated. While he found Alfred semi charming, it was made clear to him that the werewolf was still a threat. It was only right for him to assure that he was the same, someone who shouldn't be tampered with. He didn't plan on devouring the sweet neighbor, but he's considered it. The man might just be naive enough to feel safe around a vampire. He didn't even feel comfortable around a vampire he barely knew. It came down to territory between him and a member of his kind. If there were too many vampires in the area, then suspicion rises. Too many bodies are dropping and someone isn't getting enough to drink. He's never personally killed a vampire, but he fought a great few years ago. Times have changed, most vampires have mellowed out and found alternatives to slaughtering a cognitive being. While Ivan has cooked up some solutions to give him the nutrients he needs in a blood-soaked diet, he finds the rich frothy taste of real blood to be too tantalizing. It's been a few months since he's actually stalked and killed someone; he's proud of himself for it. If his tracks are uncovered at the blood bank, he may have to come back to that lifestyle. Living life as a murderer was less glamorous than living life as a hunter. Hearing Alfred say that he could only turn people when in wolf form was a relief. He thought that at least he wasn't stumbling around accidentally making people immortal. "So you can only turn people into werewolves when you're a wolf?... I've never heard about the claws part, that's new to me." It wasn't known to him whether or not he would become a werewolf too if he was bitten, but it was most definitely a concern to him now. A werepire? A vampwolf? Whatever it was, it was conjured up disturbingly in his head. He'd keep his distance from now on if that was the case.
Rolling his eyes at the wet dreams comment, he stopped rubbing his hands through Alfred's hair. "Are all werewolves this dense and vulgar? Or is it just you?" He'd roll the big puppy off his lap if he wasn't going to end up on the floor. Angering a werewolf was something he found surprisingly easy so he kept calm and tried not to seem too upset with Alfred. He liked the company; he didn't want to lose it. "Only during full moons? So you're essentially powerless up until then." Werewolves weren't too strong if they couldn't change at will. He felt significantly less threatened by Alfred's habit of showing his teeth. It was more of a parlor trick to him now, a small way to tease him. He thought of himself as lucky to have his powers with him all the time. It meant that he could tease and frighten Alfred all he wanted until the full moon popped out. He smiled to himself, gently rubbing a thumb to the American's open neck. "We do have preferences actually. The flavor really only varies with the blood type. My least favorite type is B-negative... it's a little bitter. Ah, but my favorite blood type of all has to be O-positive... thankfully, the most common." Shutting his eyes, he leaned back onto the headrest. It was always funny to him when someone walked into the clinic asking for a blood test to be done on them when he could just tell them then and there what they were. To remain undetected, he had to take a blood sample and let the customer wait out the process. He's seen a handful of mythical beasts walk through the blood bank doors while undercover, but those were the only creatures he couldn't seem to smell around. "Usually I can sniff out someone's blood type as they stand- but I can't detect your type on you. Your... werewolf musk has been blocking me." Furrowing his brows with sorrow, he twirled a piece of Alfred's hair between his fingers. "It's made me nothing but curious to find out yours- mere curiosity, trust me. I don't bite."
Alfred wasn’t scared of the warning of getting his blood drained, as Ivan didn’t scare him. The vampire could puff out his chest and appear more frightening than he is, but Alfred stayed unfazed. He was too prideful to let a vampire put any terror into him. He scoffed when Ivan said that he was only powerful during a full moon. “Ha! Who said that I can only turn during a full moon? I said I’m forced to turn during the full moon, I can turn anytime I want the rest of the month. I could turn right now. It rips my clothes off, so I would rather not give an example.” Ivan shouldn’t feel any more relief in it, Alfred had his power all year round. “Don’t think I could turn you, though. I think our... virus is immune to you guys. Vampires aren’t alive, so it just... dies on you. We just end up killing you with our strength and fighting powers.” He explained, never hearing of a vampire and werewolf crossbred. He didn’t think it was possible, but who knew. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying getting his hair played with. A smirk crept up his face when he was accused of being vulgar. “I’m just a vulgar guy, that’s all. I say what I think.” That was true as well, Alfred didn’t have much of a filter, especially around other immortals. He was a man who laughed and cried easily, who displayed all the emotions he had in his heart. It was just who he was, and he didn’t want to change anytime soon. He offered a cute act of nuzzling his cheek on Ivan’s thigh, wanting his attention again. Getting his hair played with was a major comfort. His body would relax, and calm down when someone’s fingers ran through his dirty blond locks. There was something about Ivan that offered him comfort, even if he was a vampire. His disgustingly sweet scent wasn’t bothering him anymore, and his soft voice was more soothing by the moment.
He smirks again when he hears about the blood type. “Oh? Then you’d love me. I’m O-positive.” He confessed, not scared since he knew Ivan wouldn’t bite him. If Ivan was going to drain him of his blood, he would have done it by now. Ivan didn’t need to cuddle up with him on his sofa to do it. “I’m glad my werewolf musk blocks it. Protects us from being victims of hungry, thirsty vampires like you. I’m not shocked at all that you work at a blood bank. I’m just surprised that you haven't noticed that you are stealing all the blood. How do you steal it anyway? Don’t they have protocols and stuff for this?” He questioned, always wondering how Ivan did it. He was either extremely talented, or the office was just stupid and lazy with their security. Who knew a man could get away with stealing countless pints of blood, but it was better than him going into town and murdering men in cold blood. “I’ll be honest... if you need some victims, I got a list of every sex offender, pedophile, and creep in town. Some people escape justice. So if you are hungry.... just tell me. I’ll get you a meal.” He had a sneaky grin, loving the idea of Ivan doing his dirty work. Instead of hunting these sickos in wolf form, his blood-sucking bunny could find a use for them.
It shut Ivan's small victory down when he heard about the ability. The possibility of seeing wolves walk around during the day skyrocketed and he wasn't sure where his emotions landed on the issue. Everything about having the upper hand over someone was comforting to him, but he felt as if it wasn't that overwhelming. Alfred was harmless and most of his worries about werewolves came from prejudice. The only rivalry between the two creatures was one he welcomed. He had fun flirting with and teasing Alfred, but he didn't want to risk being too attached. If something were to come up that jeopardized his facade, then he'd have to book it out of New York with his sisters not far behind. Knowing Alfred's own immortality, he was sure the situation would be the same for him. He'd end up miserable if he grew even fonder of the man only to disappear the next day. Anyone else, he didn't care to shatter their heart, but the cute playful furball was just too hopeless. "You talk like a child telling me about how strong their favorite superhero is when you describe your own species." He humored, rolling his eyes at the nonchalant bragging. There wasn't much that annoyed him about Alfred, the man was pleasant to be around, but he had his own honor to attend to. Being a blood seeker wasn't glamorous by all means, but he had to defend what was a part of him. The relief felt from immunity still didn't suffice against the show off's insistence. Every step of the conversation was an act for him to prove that he could stand up against a werewolf; the worn-out joke tired him. He wanted to feel comfortable around Alfred, but nothing felt genuine as if he was waiting for something specific to come out. It reminded him of a patient puppy. Most stereotypes held about the bouncing, yapping few. Like dogs, they roll onto their back and practically beg to be pet, loved on at the very least.
Giving in before the manchild started whining, he scrubbed his fingers along Alfred's scalp and through his strands. His eyes lit up at the confession, a big grin attached to his face. "Oh really? It's the most common blood type... but the most special to me. The rarity of it is only measured by my own longing for it." He wormed the corners of his mouth slowly down to mask his eagerness to jump on Alfred and dine out. "It's a very sweet taste- you should let me lap up any cuts you have in the future. I'll come over in a heartbeat and suck your wounds dry." The talk of blood left him parched, he distracted himself by fluffing up Alfred's hair. He wasn't entirely sure how his blood stash was known by the mutt, but he wasn't about to question it. His trust was growing high enough that he didn't care. "Most people don't know a pint from a pint and a half... it's a little dangerous for the donors, but I do sneak out an extra snack for myself when I think someone's gullible- so, I'm technically not stealing from the blood bank because they still get their pint of blood... I just drain another pint for myself. " He assured, hoping Alfred wouldn't rat him out. It would slip his mind often that the man was a cop. The only reason staff picked up on his master plan was the high rate of lightheaded donors coming out of his section. Now and then, they sent someone to check the equipment he was using, but nothing came of it. He's slowed on the packs he takes home to cool down the heat trailing behind his tail. "I might take you up on that offer someday, but my hands haven't been this clean of blood in a while... Unless you're in dire need of my assistance then I can help mark off some names for you- at a price, of course." Leaning down, he placed a chaste kiss to Alfred's forehead and gently brushed back the hair in his way. "Come over to the blood bank and I'll give you a donut if you behave... then maybe we can go track down some pedophiles and rip them apart together."
Alfred didn’t have too many plans for leaving the town soon. He only had lived there for a few years, and he knew he could get away with his non-aging status for a while. People usually only would start to talk about how young he looked. Alfred would just lie and credit on genetics. ’My parents look super young too. ‘Our whole family doesn’t age.’ he’d lie, and it worked. He looked young and was young to everyone else, so no one questioned his age. He guessed he could last until he was in his mid-thirties before people thought it was just downright weird that he hadn't aged. It was why he attempted to stay out of the spotlight. Keep to himself a few groups of friends. It was hard, he was an extrovert. He is a popular personality, everyone would know who he was and wanted to be around him. But that changed when his mortality did, and unless he wanted to become a scientific experiment for the government, he had to keep a low profile. But he always came out at night, hitting clubs and finding relief in intimacy. If he couldn’t be surrounded by dozens of friends, he’d surround himself with pretty girls and boys, even if it was just one night. A sucker for love, it was even more troubling knowing he couldn’t get into a relationship with anyone. That was the hardest about this life, knowing he’ll always be alone. Almost everyone in his pack was male and straight. How come there were only a few queer werewolves? He was aware that he should branch out to new immortals, but it was difficult since his pack was so tight. There was a sense of betrayal being around other werewolf packs, it was frowned down. Your pack was your family, case closed. You suffered with them.
[ Here is the link to my Ao3, thank you if you read it <3 ]
#rusame#amerus#aph russia#aph america#fanfic#I've just decided to keep it in its OG format#but i still edit for flow#yeee everyone have a good night
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It’s not the greatest feeling knowing your birthday will fall while you are still locked down, I of all people should know as I saw my big 40th birthday plans crumble before my eyes. But as an adult we deal with the disappointment knowing that it’s a small sacrifice to make to keep our loved ones safe. However, I wasn’t so sure Stanley would be quite as understanding as he’d been looking forward to his 6th birthday since, well since the day after his 5th!
We’ve always had a ‘birthday tea’ at home to celebrate any birthday and the boys have always chosen their cake theme for me to try and create…so luckily no major changes there. But, we usually book a special day out, a mini break or a visit to an attraction too. No such luck this year! Add in the fact that extended family and friends can’t visit and I was tasked with still making Stanley’s birthday special from home. It had been James’s 3rd birthday in February and a visit to Cadbury World and partying with Nana at a family rave was very fresh in everyone’s minds, especially Stanley’s. So no pressure at all then!
I asked Stanley what he would like to do if Coronavirus didn’t exist, and he said:
I would like to go to the seaside, one with the games and the bit that goes out over the sea that you can walk on, and has the crocodile with the sausages!
Bless him! I assumed he didn’t mean the coast of Northern Australia, but rather a humble UK resort where Punch & Judy usually reside. I was determined to make that happen for him one way or another!
Oh, We Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside!
We don’t have a garden as such, but we recently did a yard makeover (read about that here) so I had a little more room to play with. All I needed was some good weather – ha ha yes, I know! As it happened we dropped lucky and it was beautiful on the day, but fully prepared for a UK summer I had an emergency canopy backup plan too.
Oh we do like to be beside the seaside!
In order to bring the seaside to Stanley I first wrote down all the things that we love about it. Then I found a carnival type font online, printed a few copies of the alphabet and crafted my own ‘signposts’
Handmade signs
The Beach
Yes, it’s an obvious one but essential really. I ordered 3 bags of play sand to be delivered and found some blue tarpaulin in the shed that would serve two purposes, to stop the sand from spreading too far and to give the illusion of the sea.
A few deckchairs, bucket and spade sets and we were all set.
The beach
The Arcade
There’s nothing Stanley likes more than taking a tub full of 10p and 2p coins into the arcade! One of his favourites is ‘the grabber’ or claw games where you have to try and win a prize, usually an impossible to grab plush toy.
The arcade crazy claw
I did a bit of searching online and found a ‘crazy claw’ game on Amazon. This is actually a family board game of sorts but I knew I could adapt it to our needs. I built the game up, used the tokens and balls from the set but then added a party bag of haribo sweets. I tested it out, it was nearly impossible to grab the sweets, and I was left highly frustrated yet determined to give it one more try – brilliant, just like the real thing!
Not as easy as it looks!
My second game was a tin can alley set up. I started off trying to make my own, but I was worried about sharp edges with so many little fingers around so I purchased one in the end. It is a lovely set though and we have it to keep, it will be good fun on camping holidays.
The arcade tin can alley in full swing
A gift of a pair of paddleballs from our neighbour (who was in on the plan) completed our arcade. For a bit of healthy competition the winners from each game received a token (re-purposed from the Crazy Claw game) to use in exchange for…
Donkey Rides
This required some imagination, OK a lot of imagination and a sense of humour too! By this point I had decided that anything to make us all laugh during these strange times was a good thing. A donkey mask was fashioned onto Eli’s baby tricycle and voila, we had the fastest donkey this side of Blackpool! I knew it would make Stanley laugh but I expected him to think it was a bit silly and more of a token gesture. But nope, this birthday boy went hurtling down the back alley on the worlds smallest donkey a number of times throughout the day.
Our trusty steed!
Fish & Chips
Our local chip shop had re-opened the week before offering a time slot collection service, and guess what? – they even served the children’s meals in a bucket and spade!
Yummy!
Well, that just had our names written all over it and the boys sat at the beach eating their lunch. Admittedly I had to take Stanley and James’s food out of the buckets and plate it up as they complained that they couldn’t eat it properly. I’ve learned not to get between boys and their food, Eli persevered though!
Fish & Chips on the beach
Ice-Cream
What else? We have a stable style backdoor so Daddy became an ice-cream man and took orders from his ‘kiosk’.
Ice-cream, get your ice-cream!
We had three flavours to go at and a choice of toppings, the end result was three very excited (and messy) boys.
Chocolate with a flake, excellent choice sir!
The Pier
This is where my cardboard hoarding came in handy! I wanted to recreate the face hole photo opportunities that are usually found on the pier at seaside resorts. I drew a cartoon character, complete with victorian style bathing suit onto a piece of thick cardboard. After painting it in I drew the outline in thick marker and then cut out the face hole. Ben made a base from scraps of wood he found in the shed so that it was free standing. We had great fun with this, we all had our photos taken.
Memories
We’ve had some amazing times at the seaside and Stanley always remembers his grandad knotting a hanky and putting it on him as a hat, and I can remember my Grandad doing it too to stop his bald head from burning. So, that was our party hats sorted, I already had some brightly coloured stripey napkins so I knotted them into hats, generational Grandad style chic.
Grandad chic
Two days before Stanley’s birthday we had the good news that Nana could become part of our social bubble. She was able to celebrate and spend the day at the seaside with us (although I think she came purely for the ice-cream ha ha). It made Stanley’s day and there were lots of long awaited cuddles to be had for all three boys.
Having Nana back was the best present!
We also had some socially distanced visits to the gate from Stanley’s friends, and they were able to have ice-cream with us too which was lovely and a nice surprise for Stanley.
After we had sung Happy Birthday and he had blown out his candles on his cake I asked Stan if he’d had a good day, and his verdict was…’BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!’
Fun in the sun for this birthday boy
I think lockdown birthdays can be just as much [if not more] fun than the all singing and dancing parties we were all used to pre Covid-19. If you put a little bit of effort in to make them memorable, you’ll have big smiles all round. But don’t just take my word for it, I asked my fellow bloggers how they made a lockdown celebration one to remember:
Sarah from Digital Motherhood:
We’re in Spain so it’s a bit different, though we were still in lockdown! I ordered cupcakes and we decorated the house with streamers, banners and balloons. We were allowed a small group of people around by the end of May so we had my parents and my daughter’s friend here for a bit. It was actually the day after they started to ease the rules so she was very lucky!
Michelle from Time and Pence:
We created a treasure hunt in the garden and gave my son clues to find lots of treats. We also arranged for his friends and family to have video chats and send him video messages then we ended the day with a BBQ and movie night! He had an extra surprise present in place of a party and he had a wonderful day!
Josie from Me, Them and the Others
We asked friends and family to record birthday messages for our son and then I edited them together to create a birthday video for him.
Erica from Things To Do In Kent
It was our son’s 4th birthday at the very beginning of lockdown so we were quite unprepared. We hastily put together a picnic in the garden and he got Gazillions bubble machines which he and his big brother loved playing with in the garden. For his older brother’s 9th birthday more recently we had a surprise movie day. I made a poster, we had far too many sweets and popcorn and he chose his favourite takeaway (Thai!), I would quite enjoy that for my own birthday!
Katrina from Trini Mama Bebe
We had a drive by birthday from friends and family, and even my sons favourite emergency service came to say hello. They gave him some sweets and some lights and sounds. It’s amazing what a tweet can do!
Nadia from Scandi Mummy
We celebrated our son’s 1st birthday in June with a little rainbow garden party as he’s a rainbow baby and it was (unsurprisingly) easy to find rainbow decorations and a cake to match!
Katie from Mums Family Fun
I organised a scavenger hunt and quiz with my son’s football buddies via Zoom for his 7th birthday. They all sang Happy Birthday to him with his cake. It was really lovely and he had a great day!
Kasia from Oh Mummy Mia
I made a cake for my son because we couldn’t buy any because of lockdown. I tried my best. He loves dinosaurs so the cake was with a dino theme. We did a picnic in our garden for his friendly dinosaurs and later we made homemade play doh and footprint fossils.
Paige from Paiges Preferences
We did a circus/fair for my sons 5th birthday. I have a highlight on my Instagram dedicated to it!
Kerry from Blissful Domestication
We did my sons 7th birthday as a pirate party. Activities included a treasure hunt, fancy dress, a video of happy birthday messages from friends, family and teachers. We decorated a tent for a tea party, and had a treasure chest piñata. Read all about our pirate party here.
Layla from Motherhood Diaries
I got the entire class to send my middle one a birthday message, along with other friends and family and compiled then together along with a Timeline of his birth to present day. He was chuffed! Read more of my party ideas here.
If you are feeling inspired by Stanley’s seaside birthday then check out my Pinterest board for more ideas.
All images are my own unless otherwise credited and must not be reproduced without permission.
Our Lockdown Birthday: How We Made It The Best One Yet! It's not the greatest feeling knowing your birthday will fall while you are still locked down, I of all people should know as I saw my big 40th birthday plans crumble before my eyes.
#6th birthday#arcade#beach#birthday inspo#birthday planning#Bloggers#coronavirus#crazy claw#donkey rides#face hole photo#fish and chips#Home#homemade#homemade birthday#ice-cream#kids birthday#knotted hanky#Leek#lockdown#lockdown birthday#Nana#party ideas#pier#sea#seaside#seaside at home#seaside theme#social bubble#Stanley&039;s birthday#Stoke on Trent
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Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life (1981) by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, Abbeville Press
Serving as one of the most popular and highly regarded animation books among students, practitioners and hobbyists alike, “The Illusion of Life” gives a clear and non technical (lacking in any complex jargon) overview of the history of disney animation and the process and philosophy of successful animators.
Lynsey had recommended this book as a great reference for engaging with the concept of emotion in animation.
“Animation can explain whatever the mind of man can conceive” - Walt Disney
The book begins with this quote, and ultimately, works off of it closely. This quote is one of the most important factors of what makes quality animation so powerful and so fascinating - it has the ability to create worlds, characters and scenarios without the limitations of the real world.
Notable quotes, statements and memorable messages from my study of the book in depth + some of my own responses:
“conveying a certain feeling is the essence of communication in any art form. The response of the viewer is an emotional one, because art speaks to the heart. This gives animation an almost magical ability to reach inside any audience and communication with all peoples everywhere, regardless of language barriers. It is one of animation’s greatest strengths and certainly one of the most important aspects of this art for the young animator to study and master.” - Page 17
- this is one of the most important considerations of my own thesis, as I intend to study animation for its creative power and its ability to engage with all audiences through non verbal communication and an empathetic experience of feelings (see Walt Disney’s Snow White story earlier)
[About radio] “It was not the actor’s emotions you were sensing anymore. They were your emotions. Fortunately, animation works in the same way. It is capable of getting inside the heads of its audiences, into their imaginations. The audiences will make our little cartoon character sad - actually, far sadder than we could ever draw him - because in their minds that character is real. He lives in their imaginations. Once the audience has become involved with your characters and your story, almost anything is possible.” - Page 21
“The easiest way to develop a story is to do it all with dialogue between the characters, explaining everything the audience needs to know. But, as Alfred Hitchcock said, “When we tell a story in cinema, we should resort to dialogue only when it’s impossible to do otherwise”...One producer at Disney insisted that if a character said he felt a certain way, that was all that was needed. That would establish the fact and the audience would have to believe it. But it does not work like that. It is not enough simply to proclaim that a character is mad or worried or impatient. There must be business to support the statement and a situation in which he can demonstrate these emotions if the audience is to be convinced that it is so. Until the viewer feels the emotions, too, he is not impressed with the words.” - Page 389
“The animators expressed it simply: “Anyone who merely states his feelings is not acting, and if a cartoon character is not acting, he is not ‘living.’” They had to know the feelings that go deeper than words before they could find the strong attitudes that would make the situation believable.” - Page 389
These two quotes above represent one very important point about animation and an empathetic experience of the audience - good non verbal communication and acting, “living”, is what truly goes deeper than words and makes a situation believable, and thus, it is powerful enough to illustrate the ‘illusion of life’ itself and reflect emotion in both the character and the audience member watching them. The audience member can then understand them.
“We always wonder if we are going too far, or shooting too high, in our attempts to get real feelings portrayed in our medium. We cannot be too dramatic with our characters, and if we start to copy real theatre we look silly. Yet, within our limitations, we have found ways to develop emotions that have touched audiences around the world and raised people’s spirits, and that must be worthwhile.” - Page 393
An excellent summary of the specifics of the animated medium (it is not a genre it is a medium!) and its attempts at portraying accurate emotion in characters despite the “limitations” it possesses
ACTING AND EMOTIONS CHAPTER
“In our animation we must show not only the actions or reactions of a character, but we must picture also with the action...the feeling of those characters”- Walt Disney, from page 475
“In every art form it is the emotional content that makes the difference between mere technical skill and true art...In the animated film there is actually a double potential for this type of personal expression; first,in the emotions of the characters in the film that arouse additional responses in the audience, and second, in the artistry of the work itself.” - Page 475
“Katharine Ommanney, in her book on acting for students, has defined the rules and the exercises that are the steps for the beginner. She asks the performer to consider these questions as he tries to communicate with an audience:
Are the characters interesting, lifelike and vivid?
Do you become emotionally involved with them?
Do the gestures and movements seem sincere, convincing, clear and properly motivated?
Does all of the action help to delineate the characters and their situation for you?
Is the action clear-cut, realistic, prolonged sufficiently, and exaggerated enough to be seen by the whole audience?
Undeniably, these are the criteria for judging any performance, animated or live. They sound so simple, written this way, and are easy to pin up on one’s desk - but so difficult to achieve.” - Page 477
The authors recognise and share the complexity of creating performance that is “interesting”, “sincere”, “lifelike”, “realistic”, and “prolonged sufficiently” through animation, likely because it demands so much from so little time, hence the reason exaggeration is so useful and a facet of the 12 primary principles of animation proposed in this book.
“By the time the studio began Snow White, the animators were being asked to depict much more than just happiness and sadness. Now, they were faced with the task of communicating such subtle emotions as love, dejection, hate, jealousy, concern and fear. The first real example of an entire sequence based on pure emotion showed the dwarfs crying beside snow white’s bier; it was a critical decision even to attempt this type of sequence. The supervising director was concerned “that the audience would not react as we hoped it would. It was not a matter of what field size we used, or panning, or what character we cut to - it was the mood in which we wanted our audience at the time.” It was important that the viewers be involved completely in the feelings of the drawfs, and no one knew how this could be done with moving drawings.” - Pages 477/478
- relating back to my study of Walt Disney’s intentions for this scene in the BBC Two documentary
https://www.buzzfeed.com/jennaguillaume/times-disney-movies-totally-destroyed-your-emotions?utm_term=.lxXwK9d5d#.jg6R1kv6v - Buzzfeed simplify it to “When Snow White was basically dead and the dwarfs cried giant tears that pierced your heart.” Great summary.......
“If a scene calls for showing tense emotions such as anguish, scorn, bitterness, or envy with only facial expression, the animator will be quite limited. But if the story is built so that the character reveals these feelings in what he does and how he does it - reserving the close-ups only for emphasis - the scenes can be gripping and entertaining.” - Page 484
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