#vincent's choice was king of wands
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Starting over to survive😔 At the time Phantom Liberty event happened, Goro and Vincent's relationship had grown quite deep. Although Vincent didn't tell Goro what he was exactly doing in Dogtown, Goro knew something was going on there thanks to the tracker he had placed on Vincent before.
Goro patiently waited until Vincent finally called him to the dock and told what happened. He felt bitter asking "Do you not trust me?" and Vincent only answered "I trust you, but not Arasaka yet."
#vincent's choice was king of wands#and he doesn't regret it#from my old xwitter#for the 1 year of Phantom Liberty#otp brainrot#oc:vincent ibarra#goro takemura#otp:gimme danger#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty#my post
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
So serious question I love to ask people. What are the chances of V's survival you think in every ending? I know its a loaded question but I love theories and reading them
Okay so I've played the game through on every lifepath (streetkid Valerie is my absolute favorite though and she's default for me at this point and I've also never finished a full playthrough with Vincent because I end up missing Val too much) but I either take The Star ending or I don't approach the point of no return ('meet Hanako at Embers') at all and just mess around for trophies after I've finished all the side stuff. I've seen bits and pieces of the other base game endings but I've only ever completed The Star.
I'm not a fan of V siding with corporations (the FIA/NUSA included) regardless of desperation or V giving her body up for someone who already lived his life and kinda took it for granted when he still had a physical body of his own. Don't get me wrong though! I love Johnny, but his time came and passed. V shouldn't have to share the same fate as Johnny or Alt.
After Phantom Liberty (CDPR couldn't have chosen a better title honestly), I feel like V could have a decent chance at survival if she any had idea where to look albeit six months isn't long. I feel like my preferred ending would be Mr Blue Eyes helping So Mi as was agreed to but using his undoubtedly vast amount of resources to put together another AI blackbox (Militech could make a neutral matrix so why couldn't someone theorized to be an AI himself) to save V under the binding agreement that she does something for him in return. Something that she normally wouldn't agree to of course because I love inner conflict and a plot that drips with angst.
What she does would drastically tip the scales in politics (i.e. assassinating someone, etc, whatever it is that furthers his agenda). And she doesn't trust Mr Blue Eyes one bit, perhaps learns it was him behind the whole Peralez machination (my V really liked/respected Jefferson and Elizabeth and was upset by the end with being unable to truly help despite them being corpos). I really hope Project Orion centers on the next Corporate War along with the Blackwall. Then the third game (make it a trilogy with V, CDPR!) could be post-apocalyptic like Judgment Day In T2/T3. I loved to see two of my favorite genres merging together: cyberpunk and post-apocalypse!
I digress! My favorite ending for V is King of Wands that segues into The Star.
I know it doesn't really answer your question in full but I've got a habit of making the same choices over again throughout each playthrough and playing V as a softie at heart with good intentions but also takes on the jobs that are heavily in the morally grey. Acting as the judge, jury and at times executioner is fun in this universe, not gonna lie.
1 note
·
View note
Text
It was only a couple of days into the new school year and Draco was something that he called completely and utterly done. Left and right wherever he went, even in the common room, students were insinuating that he’d murdered Albus Dumbledore (not that they knew he knew that they were thinking it, though), the first years were scared of him after Amycus Carrow left him in charge of detention after torturing a few of them for no apparent reason and all of his friends were thinking what none of them were saying aloud (that he looked like a ghost, that the Draco they knew didn’t even seem to be there, that they were worried about him). He couldn’t deal with one of those things seperately after the summer he had, never mind all three of them at once. And the worst part was that it wasn’t even the thing that he was most worried about. No, what was on his mind when he ascended the stairs to the dormitory (his hide-out of choice, since Blaise had gone to the pitch, Theo was in the library and Gregory and Vincent were busy sucking up to Amycus) were his friends. How could he stop the Dark Lord from getting Theo the Mark after graduation? Should he get married to Pansy to avoid her getting married off to some much older creep? Did Daphne need help handling her family now that her brother left? Was Blaise going to leave the country with his mother and leave them behind? Had Gregory and Vincent absolutely lost it? Just as he got his cycle to Tracey (just had her and Millicent to go before starting again at Theo) he walked into his dormitory and immediately spotted someone sitting on his bed. He got his wand and fired out the first spell that came to mind (Stupefy) before immediately penetrating their thoughts afterwards. A girl with dark hair and two boys, one with hair like Theo and another with even darker hair. Daphne’s little sister, except she was all grown up now, and looked pretty too. And then there it was: recognizable blond hair, multi-coloured eyes that could not belong to anyone else and a much, much older face. It was undoubtedly Draco’s older version telling this boy to have a good year at Hogwarts, that he would see him soon, and that he shouldn’t get into trouble Draco wouldn’t have gotten into either. He hugged the boy, kissed his forehead, and watched Astoria do the same before the three of them left for King’s Cross. That was all Draco needed. He lifted the Legilimens spell, lifted Stupify immediately afterwards as well and hurried over to the boy to help him up. “For future reference, don’t do that again,” he said dryly. “It could be someone with worse intentions than me walking in here. Or less skills to figure out who you are.” With that, he let go of the boy and allowed himself a closer look at him. He didn’t quite have the Malfoy haircolour, it was a bit darker, but there was definitely a resemblance. What was however exactly like Draco was the bone structure at the jaw and cheeks, exactly like every Black had. “I’m so sorry. I would not have done that had I known who you were. Though -” With that he paused and frowned. “Let’s start with your name and what exactly you’re doing here, since I’m going to take an educated guess and assume you’re not meant to be here?”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sir John Hurt obituary
British actor became an overnight sensation after playing Quentin Crisp in the 1975 television film The Naked Civil Servant
Few British actors of recent years have been held in as much affection as Sir John Hurt, who has died aged 77. That affection is not just because of his unruly lifestyle he was a hell-raising chum of Oliver Reed, Peter OToole and Richard Harris, and was married four times or even his string of performances as damaged, frail or vulnerable characters, though that was certainly a factor. There was something about his innocence, open-heartedness and his beautiful speaking voice that made him instantly attractive.
As he aged, his face developed more creases and folds than the old map of the Indies, inviting comparisons with the famous lived-in faces of WH Auden and Samuel Beckett, in whose reminiscent Krapps Last Tape he gave a definitive solo performance towards the end of his career. One critic said he could pack a whole emotional universe into the twitch of an eyebrow, a sardonic slackening of the mouth. Hurt himself said: What I am now, the man, the actor, is a blend of all that has happened.
For theatregoers of my generation, his pulverising, hysterically funny performance as Malcolm Scrawdyke, leader of the Party of Dynamic Erection at a Yorkshire art college, in David Halliwells Little Malcolm and His Struggle Against the Eunuchs, was a totemic performance of the mid-1960s; another was David Warners Hamlet, and both actors appeared in the 1974 film version of Little Malcolm. The play lasted only two weeks at the Garrick Theatre (I saw the final Saturday matine), but Hurts performance was already a minor cult, and one collected by the Beatles and Laurence Olivier.
He became an overnight sensation with the public at large as Quentin Crisp the self-confessed stately homo of England in the 1975 television film The Naked Civil Servant, directed by Jack Gold, playing the outrageous, original and defiant aesthete whom Hurt had first encountered as a nude model in his painting classes at St Martins School of Art, before he trained as an actor.
Crisp called Hurt my representative here on Earth, ironically claiming a divinity at odds with his low-life louche-ness and poverty. But Hurt, a radiant vision of ginger quiffs and curls, with a voice kippered in gin and as studiously inflected as a deadpan mix of Nol Coward, Coral Browne and Julian Clary, in a way propelled Crisp to the stars, and certainly to his transatlantic fame, a journey summarised when Hurt recapped Crisps life in An Englishman in New York (2009), 10 years after his death.
Hurt said some people had advised him that playing Crisp would end his career. Instead, it made everything possible. Within five years he had appeared in four of the most extraordinary films of the late 1970s: Ridley Scotts Alien (1979), the brilliantly acted sci-fi horror movie in which Hurt from whose stomach the creature exploded was the first victim; Alan Parkers Midnight Express, for which he won his first Bafta award as a drug-addicted convict in a Turkish torture prison; Michael Ciminos controversial western Heavens Gate (1980), now a cult classic in its fully restored format; and David Lynchs The Elephant Man (1980), with Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft.
In the latter, as John Merrick, the deformed circus attraction who becomes a celebrity in Victorian society and medicine, Hurt won a second Bafta award and Lynchs opinion that he was the greatest actor in the world. He infused a hideous outer appearance there were 27 moving pieces in his face mask; he spent nine hours a day in make-up with a deeply moving, humane quality. He followed up with a small role Jesus in Mel Brookss History of the World: Part 1 (1981), the movie where the waiter at the Last Supper says, Are you all together, or is it separate cheques?
Hurt was an actor freed of all convention in his choice of roles, and he lived his life accordingly. Born in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, he was the youngest of three children of a Church of England vicar and mathematician, the Reverend Arnould Herbert Hurt, and his wife, Phyllis (ne Massey), an engineer with an enthusiasm for amateur dramatics.
After a miserable schooling at St Michaels in Sevenoaks, Kent (where he said he was sexually abused), and the Lincoln grammar school (where he played Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest), he rebelled as an art student, first at the Grimsby art school where, in 1959, he won a scholarship to St Martins, before training at Rada for two years in 1960.
He made a stage debut that same year with the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Arts, playing a semi-psychotic teenage thug in Fred Watsons Infanticide in the House of Fred Ginger and then joined the cast of Arnold Weskers national service play, Chips With Everything, at the Vaudeville. Still at the Arts, he was Len in Harold Pinters The Dwarfs (1963) before playing the title role in John Wilsons Hamp (1964) at the Edinburgh Festival, where critic Caryl Brahms noted his unusual ability and blessed quality of simplicity.
This was a more relaxed, free-spirited time in the theatre. Hurt recalled rehearsing with Pinter when silver salvers stacked with gins and tonics, ice and lemon, would arrive at 11.30 each morning as part of the stage management routine. On receiving a rude notice from the distinguished Daily Mail critic Peter Lewis, he wrote, Dear Mr Lewis, Whooooops! Yours sincerely, John Hurt and received the reply, Dear Mr Hurt, thank you for short but tedious letter. Yours sincerely, Peter Lewis.
After Little Malcolm, he played leading roles with the RSC at the Aldwych notably in David Mercers Belchers Luck (1966) and as the madcap dadaist Tristan Tzara in Tom Stoppards Travesties (1974) as well as Octavius in Shaws Man and Superman in Dublin in 1969 and an important 1972 revival of Pinters The Caretaker at the Mermaid. But his stage work over the next 10 years was virtually non-existent as he followed The Naked Civil Servant with another pyrotechnical television performance as Caligula in I, Claudius; Raskolnikov in Dostoevskys Crime and Punishment and the Fool to Oliviers King Lear in Michael Elliotts 1983 television film.
His first big movie had been Fred Zinnemanns A Man for All Seasons (1966) with Paul Scofield (Hurt played Richard Rich) but his first big screen performance was an unforgettable Timothy Evans, the innocent framed victim in Richard Fleischers 10 Rillington Place (1970), with Richard Attenborough as the sinister landlord and killer John Christie. He claimed to have made 150 movies and persisted in playing those he called the unloved people like us, the inside-out people, who live their lives as an experiment, not as a formula. Even his Ben Gunn-like professor in Steven Spielbergs Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008) fitted into this category, though not as resoundingly, perhaps, as his quivering Winston Smith in Michael Radfords terrific Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984); or as a prissy weakling, Stephen Ward, in Michael Caton-Joness Scandal (1989) about the Profumo affair; or again as the lonely writer Giles DeAth in Richard Kwietniowskis Love and Death on Long Island.
His later, sporadic theatre performances included a wonderful Trigorin in Chekhovs The Seagull at the Lyric, Hammersmith, in 1985 (with Natasha Richardson as Nina); Turgenevs incandescent idler Rakitin in a 1994 West End production by Bill Bryden of A Month in the Country, playing a superb duet with Helen Mirrens Natalya Petrovna; and another memorable match with Penelope Wilton in Brian Friels exquisite 70-minute doodle Afterplay (2002), in which two lonely Chekhov characters Andrei from Three Sisters, Sonya from Uncle Vanya find mutual consolation in a Moscow caf in the 1920s. The play originated, like his Krapp, at the Gate Theatre in Dublin.
His last screen work included, in the Harry Potter franchise, the first, Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone (2001), and last two, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts One and Two (2010, 2011), as the kindly wand-maker Mr Ollivander; Roland Joffs 1960s remake of Brighton Rock (2010); and the 50th anniversary television edition of Dr Who (2013), playing a forgotten incarnation of the title character.
Because of his distinctive, virtuosic vocal attributes was that what a brandy-injected fruitcake sounds like, or peanut butter spread thickly with a serrated knife? he was always in demand for voiceover gigs in animated movies: the heroic rabbit leader, Hazel, in Watership Down (1978), Aragorn/Strider in Lord of the Rings (1978) and the Narrator in Lars von Triers Dogville (2004). In 2015 he took the Peter OToole stage role in Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell for BBC Radio 4. He had foresworn alcohol for a few years not for health reasons, he said, but because he was bored with it.
Hurts sister was a teacher in Australia, his brother a convert to Roman Catholicism and a monk and writer. After his first short marriage to the actor Annette Robinson (1960, divorced 1962) he lived for 15 years in London with the French model Marie-Lise Volpeliere Pierrot. She was killed in a riding accident in 1983. In 1984 he married, secondly, a Texan, Donna Peacock (divorced in 1990), living with her for a time in Nairobi until the relationship came under strain from his drinking and her dalliance with a gardener. With his third wife, Jo Dalton (married in 1990, divorced 1995), he had two sons, Nicolas and Alexander (Sasha), who survive him, as does his fourth wife, the actor and producer Anwen Rees-Myers, whom he married in 2005 and with whom he lived in Cromer, Norfolk. Hurt was made CBE in 2004, given a Bafta lifetime achievement award in 2012 and knighted in the New Years honours list of 2015.
John Vincent Hurt, actor, born 22 January 1940, died 27 January 2017
Read more: http://ift.tt/2kDFeJt
from Sir John Hurt obituary
0 notes
Text
John Hurt obituary
British actor became an overnight sensation after playing Quentin Crisp in the 1975 television film The Naked Civil Servant
Few British actors of recent years have been held in as much affection as John Hurt, who has died aged 77. That affection is not just because of his unruly lifestyle he was a hell-raising chum of Oliver Reed, Peter OToole and Richard Harris, and was married four times or even his string of performances as damaged, frail or vulnerable characters, though that was certainly a factor. There was something about his innocence, open-heartedness and his beautiful speaking voice that made him instantly attractive.
As he aged, his face developed more creases and folds than the old map of the Indies, inviting comparisons with the famous lived-in faces of WH Auden and Samuel Beckett, in whose reminiscent Krapps Last Tape he gave a definitive solo performance towards the end of his career. One critic said he could pack a whole emotional universe into the twitch of an eyebrow, a sardonic slackening of the mouth. Hurt himself said: What I am now, the man, the actor, is a blend of all that has happened.
For theatregoers of my generation, his pulverising, hysterically funny performance as Malcolm Scrawdyke, leader of the Party of Dynamic Erection at a Yorkshire art college, in David Halliwells Little Malcolm and His Struggle Against the Eunuchs, was a totemic performance of the mid-1960s; another was David Warners Hamlet, and both actors appeared in the 1974 film version of Little Malcolm. The play lasted only two weeks at the Garrick Theatre (I saw the final Saturday matine), but Hurts performance was already a minor cult, and one collected by the Beatles and Laurence Olivier.
He became an overnight sensation with the public at large as Quentin Crisp the self-confessed stately homo of England in the 1975 television film The Naked Civil Servant, directed by Jack Gold, playing the outrageous, original and defiant aesthete whom Hurt had first encountered as a nude model in his painting classes at St Martins School of Art, before he trained as an actor.
Crisp called Hurt my representative here on Earth, ironically claiming a divinity at odds with his low-life louche-ness and poverty. But Hurt, a radiant vision of ginger quiffs and curls, with a voice kippered in gin and as studiously inflected as a deadpan mix of Nol Coward, Coral Browne and Julian Clary, in a way propelled Crisp to the stars, and certainly to his transatlantic fame, a journey summarised when Hurt recapped Crisps life in An Englishman in New York (2009), 10 years after his death.
Hurt said some people had advised him that playing Crisp would end his career. Instead, it made everything possible. Within five years he had appeared in four of the most extraordinary films of the late 1970s: Ridley Scotts Alien (1979), the brilliantly acted sci-fi horror movie in which Hurt from whose stomach the creature exploded was the first victim; Alan Parkers Midnight Express, for which he won his first Bafta award as a drug-addicted convict in a Turkish torture prison; Michael Ciminos controversial western Heavens Gate (1980), now a cult classic in its fully restored format; and David Lynchs The Elephant Man (1980), with Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft.
In the latter, as John Merrick, the deformed circus attraction who becomes a celebrity in Victorian society and medicine, Hurt won a second Bafta award and Lynchs opinion that he was the greatest actor in the world. He infused a hideous outer appearance there were 27 moving pieces in his face mask; he spent nine hours a day in make-up with a deeply moving, humane quality. He followed up with a small role Jesus in Mel Brookss History of the World: Part 1 (1981), the movie where the waiter at the Last Supper says, Are you all together, or is it separate cheques?
Hurt was an actor freed of all convention in his choice of roles, and he lived his life accordingly. Born in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, he was the youngest of three children of a Church of England vicar and mathematician, the Reverend Arnould Herbert Hurt, and his wife, Phyllis (ne Massey), an engineer with an enthusiasm for amateur dramatics.
After a miserable schooling at St Michaels in Sevenoaks, Kent (where he said he was sexually abused), and the Lincoln grammar school (where he played Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest), he rebelled as an art student, first at the Grimsby art school where, in 1959, he won a scholarship to St Martins, before training at Rada for two years in 1960.
He made a stage debut that same year with the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Arts, playing a semi-psychotic teenage thug in Fred Watsons Infanticide in the House of Fred Ginger and then joined the cast of Arnold Weskers national service play, Chips With Everything, at the Vaudeville. Still at the Arts, he was Len in Harold Pinters The Dwarfs (1963) before playing the title role in John Wilsons Hamp (1964) at the Edinburgh Festival, where critic Caryl Brahms noted his unusual ability and blessed quality of simplicity.
This was a more relaxed, free-spirited time in the theatre. Hurt recalled rehearsing with Pinter when silver salvers stacked with gins and tonics, ice and lemon, would arrive at 11.30 each morning as part of the stage management routine. On receiving a rude notice from the distinguished Daily Mail critic Peter Lewis, he wrote, Dear Mr Lewis, Whooooops! Yours sincerely, John Hurt and received the reply, Dear Mr Hurt, thank you for short but tedious letter. Yours sincerely, Peter Lewis.
After Little Malcolm, he played leading roles with the RSC at the Aldwych notably in David Mercers Belchers Luck (1966) and as the madcap dadaist Tristan Tzara in Tom Stoppards Travesties (1974) as well as Octavius in Shaws Man and Superman in Dublin in 1969 and an important 1972 revival of Pinters The Caretaker at the Mermaid. But his stage work over the next 10 years was virtually non-existent as he followed The Naked Civil Servant with another pyrotechnical television performance as Caligula in I, Claudius; Raskolnikov in Dostoevskys Crime and Punishment and the Fool to Oliviers King Lear in Michael Elliotts 1983 television film.
His first big movie had been Fred Zinnemanns A Man for All Seasons (1966) with Paul Scofield (Hurt played Richard Rich) but his first big screen performance was an unforgettable Timothy Evans, the innocent framed victim in Richard Fleischers 10 Rillington Place (1970), with Richard Attenborough as the sinister landlord and killer John Christie. He claimed to have made 150 movies and persisted in playing those he called the unloved people like us, the inside-out people, who live their lives as an experiment, not as a formula. Even his Ben Gunn-like professor in Steven Spielbergs Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008) fitted into this category, though not as resoundingly, perhaps, as his quivering Winston Smith in Michael Radfords terrific Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984); or as a prissy weakling, Stephen Ward, in Michael Caton-Joness Scandal (1989) about the Profumo affair; or again as the lonely writer Giles DeAth in Richard Kwietniowskis Love and Death on Long Island.
His later, sporadic theatre performances included a wonderful Trigorin in Chekhovs The Seagull at the Lyric, Hammersmith, in 1985 (with Natasha Richardson as Nina); Turgenevs incandescent idler Rakitin in a 1994 West End production by Bill Bryden of A Month in the Country, playing a superb duet with Helen Mirrens Natalya Petrovna; and another memorable match with Penelope Wilton in Brian Friels exquisite 70-minute doodle Afterplay (2002), in which two lonely Chekhov characters Andrei from Three Sisters, Sonya from Uncle Vanya find mutual consolation in a Moscow caf in the 1920s. The play originated, like his Krapp, at the Gate Theatre in Dublin.
His last screen work included, in the Harry Potter franchise, the first, Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone (2001), and last two, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts One and Two (2010, 2011), as the kindly wand-maker Mr Ollivander; Roland Joffs 1960s remake of Brighton Rock (2010); and the 50th anniversary television edition of Dr Who (2013), playing a forgotten incarnation of the title character.
Because of his distinctive, virtuosic vocal attributes was that what a brandy-injected fruitcake sounds like, or peanut butter spread thickly with a serrated knife? he was always in demand for voiceover gigs in animated movies: the heroic rabbit leader, Hazel, in Watership Down (1978), Aragorn/Strider in Lord of the Rings (1978) and the Narrator in Lars von Triers Dogville (2004). In 2015 he took the Peter OToole stage role in Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell for BBC Radio 4. He had foresworn alcohol for a few years not for health reasons, he said, but because he was bored with it.
Hurts sister was a teacher in Australia, his brother a convert to Roman Catholicism and a monk and writer. After his first short marriage to the actor Annette Robinson (1960, divorced 1962) he lived for 15 years in County Wicklow with the French model Marie-Lise Volpeliere Pierrot. She was killed in a riding accident in 1983. In 1984 he married, secondly, a Texan, Donna Peacock (divorced in 1990), living with her for a time in Nairobi until the relationship came under strain from his drinking and her dalliance with a gardener. With his third wife, Jo Dalton (married in 1990, divorced 1995), he had two sons, Nicolas and Alexander (Sasha), who survive him, as does his fourth wife, the actor and producer Anwen Rees-Myers, whom he married in 2005 and with whom he lived in Cromer, Norfolk. Hurt was made CBE in 2004, given a Bafta lifetime achievement award in 2012 and knighted in the New Years honours list of 2015.
John Vincent Hurt, actor, born 22 January 1940, died 27 January 2017
Read more: http://ift.tt/2kDFeJt
from John Hurt obituary
1 note
·
View note