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boxturret · 2 months ago

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The Adverse Affects of Pre-Release Materials

I usually post big rambling posts about bionicles, but today I'm going to do a big rambling post about one of my favourite movies, Steamboy.

And like...themes and stuff.

Have you heard of themes? Things can have them, they're pretty cool.

I know no one will read this but this is for me okay.

In 2005 I was watching the Space channel, now rebranded CTV Scifi, and they had an awards show called the Spaceys where they ranked and awarded media from that year. I recall when Stargate SG1 won one they had a clip of the Thor puppet being controlled by Richard Dean Anderson thanking everyone who supported the show, and that their voices sounded like "tiny farts". I wonder if that's available anywhere or if its lost media now lol.

In any case, they had an animation category and they mentioned several films that released that year, the winner was Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, but one of the nominees was a film called Steamboy, it was just named and they had a tiny clip from the trailer. It was literally just this part:

Really stuck in my mind and I went and looked it up and found the English website, which has been partially archived:

Unfortunately not documented is the previews and clips page, which had several short videos from the movie, notably, I recall, with incorrect character names. It called the main two characters Jay and Miss, instead of Ray and Scarlet lol.

One of the scenes on this page was from around half way through the movie, when the fighting breaks out in the Great Exhibition grounds, and Scarlet decided to stroll across the battle field to talk to the queen.

(I love all the shots where you can actually see the artillery shells flying through the air)

These men in armour come out and engage the British Tanks and one gets thrown by an explosion.

She goes to look at him and sees that he's dead, but she's surprised there was a man in there.

This being my first introduction to the "Steam Troopers" as the dub calls them, would prove a bit problematic for me and my understanding of the film for years to come.

This was 2005, it was harder to find things like this, by some luck after weeks of searching I did find the movie on DVD in a store and could finally watch it.

So now I could see the introduction of the Steam Trooper, which is quite ominous. The London Constabulary comes to break in to the O'Hara Manufacturing Company's pavilion in the exhibition grounds but the doors open and you see one standing there, menacingly.

And as a kid I thought "imagine being the guy told to just stand there all dramatic as the police storm in", thinking it was kinda funny really.

But something always bugged me about the Steam Troopers. They didn't really make sense, mechanically.

Steamboy is a steampunk movie, featuring all sorts of incredible machines with copious amounts of gears and belts and rivets and pistons and they all look very cool, but also there is a lot of thought put un to their designs.

In fact the British steam powered tank is actually based on a real world vehicle, the Hornsby Tractor.

Just stick a little gun turret on the front and you've got it lol.

You can see their power source, how they're propelled, their mechanisms make sense, they're crazy complicated and not really feasible or practical, but they're fun and make sense In the world established in the film.

But Steam Troopers don't!

Now from my point of view, from seeing the preview and seeing it was a guy in a suit, I just looked at it as a suit, so therefore, in my mind, the linkages and wheels and tiny boiler on the back must all be some sort of Victorian power armour, enhancing the wearer's strength in some way.

But it just doesn't make sense, nothing's connected to anything properly for that.

When you see the dead guy some of the wheels are still spinning and all they're doing is making some of the linkages, which aren't positioned to do anything, move around.

It really bothered me for years, everything else in the movie makes sense to me, but not them.

Then a year or two ago I did a little experiment. I watched this movie, which I've seen dozens of times at this point, but really tried to empty my mind of all my prior thoughts and knowledge. Just come at it fresh. And it was really fun! I highly recommend it. You'll never be able to really experience a movie for the first time again, but looking at it through this lens can make you notice things you may have missed.

Watching Steamboy in this way, when I got to the Steam Trooper scenes, it finally clicked. They don't make sense, because they're not supposed to make sense. They're fake. Its all fake.

They're supposed to be automatons.

The scene where Scarlet sees the dead man is supposed to be a big reveal that no, these are just men in suits.

This whole battle is a weapons demonstration orchestrated by Simon, the person in charge of this branch of the O'Hara Manufacturing Company. There are representatives from all over the world here and he spends the entire latter have of the movie trying to sell them stuff even when things start to go horribly wrong.

The whole ominous scene with the Steam Trooper standing there menacingly was for their benefit.

The O'Hara Manufacturing Company has so many amazing machines, they've got submersibles, blimps, actually functional airplanes, all in the 1860s, but its not enough.

They're so driven by greed they're not content to simply sell the amazing machines they have, they have to try and scam even more out of everyone.

It leads to them strapping some tiny engines that just wiggle around a bit and shoot out steam on the backs of some guys in full armour and have them march in to battle pretending to be clockwork soldiers.

This realisation also gave new context to this scene, which is one of the more humorous scenes in the film.

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*bonk*

You can actually see these suits much earlier in the film, off in the background in a maintenance area. The Steam Castle, the true form of the O'Hara Pavilion, is massive and much of it was constructed in secret, under water, so they'd require many things like the submarine seen in the same scene and these diving suits with manipulator arms. But in their greed they're trying to sell these clumsy maintenance suits as amphibious battle suits, yet in reality they can't even climb stairs.

The O'Hara pavilion itself is a very clear example of this, its trying to look like a fancy stone building but really its all painted metal, and the shell breaks off to reveal the dark and dirty weapon of war it really is.

The Steam Castle started out as an idea of a mobile funfair and greed perverted it in to become this. This part was plainly laid out in the movie, but its fun to see how the theme was repeated in different ways throughout the movie.

So in conclusion, one of the major thematic elements of the movie was hidden to me for years because of the pre-release media that gave a away a twist before the set up, ruining the impact of it.

Its a tricky thing, seeing those preview materials were what made me excited to watch the movie, yet seeing them directly harmed my understanding of the movie for years to come. I've always loved the movie, its gorgeous, has an amazing sound track and sound design, it taps directly in to the gear obsessed part of my brain, and there's other themes and messages in the movie that even as a kid I noticed, but now I feel I have a much more clear understanding of the movie that I lacked before.

I've had my enjoyment of a few other things be tempered by overdoing it with pre-release materials, so in general once I've decided something is interesting to me I basically block out everything until I've finished it. I don't even read the blurb on the back of books anymore lol.

I highly recommend trying to go at something fresh, with an open mind, even if you can quote the movie from memory and every frame is etched in to your brain, you can learn something!

Some other quick notes:

Compressed gasses being released making things cold is an actual thing, if you've ever sprayed a can of compressed air for a bit too long and felt the can get colder, that's what's going on.

The two main henchmen in the movie are named Freddy and Jason, get it?

Canada is represented in the movie even though that flag didn't exist yet! :)

The PS2 game has an ending where you fight a pair of giant Punch and Judy robots.

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The trailer and DVD menu for Steamboy is a song called Full Force, which is a cool song. The first half at least. I edited it a few years ago to remove the end bit which gets weird, and then found that several people also did that, independently. So that's neat.

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I like my edit more, but its secret. Its mine.

I can't promise this won't happen again.

#Steamboy #essay #ramble #really the weakest part of the movie is that the main character of steam boy has the surname of Steam #its quite silly #animation #anime #themes of steam #Tumblr only lets you post 30 images and it makes me sad.#Youtube

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loudblonde · 1 year ago

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"A Pretty Bird in a Gilded Cage" John Price x Male Reader

summary: (Y/N) Price, aka Birdie, an ex-MI6 intelligence officer turned spy on British soil gets kidnapped by Makarov's men, all his life falls apart as Makarov has him tortured simply to get revenge on his husband.

warnings: torture, violence, allusion to rape(throw away line it doesn't actually happen,) angst with a happy ending

word count: 2,2K

December 10th, the room was freezing cold and damp, water dripped down the walls as mildew and mould alike grew in the corners, being in this abandoned hellhole was sure to make anyone sick. (Y/N) tested the bonds on the wooden plank he was tied to, they were not giving away enough leeway for them to have underestimated him though he didn’t have a guard on him so they obviously only knew the official story. Retired and injured intelligence officer.

Many people meeting (Y/N) for the first time formed 3 opinions, that he was handsome, that he was capable and that he had Captain John Price fully wrapped around his finger. It was no secret that the not-very-hidden, retired intelligence officer for MI6, was the proud and semi-supportive husband of Captain John Price.

Many people around base knew him as “The Only Man Capable of Making the Captain Relax” or rather, househusband, though what many people, including John Price himself, didn’t know, is that (Y/N) is not retired, he is still very much so active, just not in MI6, instead he works close to the ground as a priced horse, waiting to get kidnapped which had happened two times while Price was away, after all, he had many enemies.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairway, and the light bulb hanging a meter from his face turned on, blinding him. By the sound of it, 4 people entered the room, 3 heavy sets with boots on, probably soldiers the size of Simon, if not a little smaller, and one person wearing business shoes. (Y/N) turned his head and looked at them through squinted eyes. “Whatever you want, I won’t give it to you,” He said.

(Y/N) sighed in his restraints, clearly, he was going to be here for a while. There was no window that hadn’t been painted over, letting no light in, it was hard to tell what was day and night but he hadn’t been here for long, he had counted 9 hours so far.

Laswell had either yet to notice the tracker being activated or she was in the middle of an operation that required her focus. (Y/N) didn’t doubt that last one, he knew John was on a mission away, he probably wouldn’t be home for another month or so, maybe more.

“Oh, we aren’t the ones with questions, Birdie.” The man’s heavy Russian accent spilt through, causing (Y/N) to roll his eyes. “But we are here to pretty you up for the pictures we are about to take, your husband will want to know what you look like.” (Y/N) felt a fist hit his stomach, and all the air was knocked out of his lungs, he gasped for breath at the same time a wet cloth was thrown over his face followed by water. “We were told to be… creative with the prettying.”

December 11th, everything was sore, bruised and bloodied. His whole body hurt and he was pretty certain he didn’t have any internal bleeding. He was left alone, his stomach growled for food but he held on.

December 15th, he finally got food, but they were on a jet someplace, they didn’t speak to him the entire time. Everything still hurt but he managed to keep calm. Laswell crackled to life in his ear. “Are you alive?”

(Y/N) grunted out once, meaning yes.

“Good, when you land, gather information, we are already decrypting everything the linefeed is sending over.” She said, her voice was a comforting niceness in the last few horrific days of torture. The com crackled again, signalling she had left.

December 18th, a cold and barren winter morning in the middle of the Siberian taiga forest, in one shitty run-down cold shack, (Y/N) was sitting tied to a chair just waiting for his captors to return, he needed to get information out of them, it would ultimately help his husbands team, these were their enemies.

An icy wind was tearing through the shack, threatening frost burnt appendages and pneumonia. The silence of the forest was torn apart by the sound of a helicopter above them. It landed, whipping wind against the shack, like the big bad wolf blowing down the house of the pigs, (Y/N) wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay without risking his husband finding out.

Makarov was a true scumbag. (Y/N) knew in his heart that he wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of (Y/N) as soon as he was bored off him or he had had his fun. (Y/N) didn’t like either of those options. (Y/N) spit down at Makarov’s shoes though it seemed to only further the man's twisted amusement.

The door opened with a creak, it shuttered against the wall, the wood groaned and the metal creaked further. (Y/N) shivered at the frost-ridden air that entered, each set of feet crunching the snow that had blown into the shack through the cracks of the wood. His hood was ripped off, alongside some hair and (Y/N) stood face to face with Vladimir Makarov.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with the dramatic entrance of the man. “Doing your dirty work all by yourself?” He knew that he should be scared but he didn’t want a man such as Makarov to see his fear.

“For one such as you, yes.” Makarov grabbed (Y/N)’s face and tilted it painfully up, the bones in his neck groaned and the muscles were pulled dangerously taunt, one quick knife and (Y/N) would be dead. “A pretty songbird in a gilded cage. You have such potential and yet… you fail to use it in any way. You were a world-class intelligence officer and now you are but an ant beneath my boot. Your husband has already noticed that you are here when he and his team rush here…” Makarov smirked.

“You plan on killing them in a trap? Use me as bait, that is cruel even for you.” (Y/N) growled out, he let fake hot anger rise up just enough to heat his skin. “You bastard!” (Y/N) hadn’t been sent undercover as many times as he had, without picking up a thing or two. Tears of disbelief and anger welled in his eyes and froze against his skin as they spilt. Shards of ice fell into his lap.

(Y/N) frowned, he needed to get out, these people were dangerous enough as is, they shouldn’t have a hostage for any more than needed. (Y/N) already had gained as much information from simply being close to them, all agents like him had a device embedded under the skin for long-distance download, it wasn’t the safest of experimental devices but (Y/N) was more than ready to do what he needed to do in order to keep the world safe, much like his husband he was no stranger to war crimes.

Makarov chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I plan on breaking your mind after they are dead, there is nothing better than having a pretty bird by my side. It would be the biggest disappointment to the Price legacy.”

He let go of his face, leaving behind red marks that would undoubtedly create bruises, it would be hard but not impossible to hide from Price. Makarov took one last look at him and walked outside the shack, a sickening smirk on his face the entire time. He slammed the door with enough brute force to make it hard to open it, the door locked in place.

A small voice in his ear crackled to light. “Need rescue?” It was Laswell’s voice. (Y/N) whispered a no close to his chest and leaned back in his restraints, the sound of a helicopter flying away signalled that Makarov went away again. (Y/N) counted every second until an hour went by, being sure to prepare himself enough. “Don’t attract attention when you leave, we don’t want them chasing you. We are trying to find an extraction point.”

(Y/N) undid the handcuffs with ease, getting out wasn’t as hard as one would think and untied himself. He glanced around outside the windows before snaking his way under the wood in the back. He escaped into the forest safely and didn’t stop running for an hour.

His lungs were on fire, and everything was bruised, beaten and hurt, he was expecting to at least come out of this with hypothermia and that was if he was lucky.

“Laswell, do I have an extraction point?”

“Yes.” A voice cackled in his ear, a much deeper voice that didn’t belong to a woman he considered his sister. It was Price. (Y/N) sighed with a groan. “Two more miles and we are ready to pick you up.” Price sounded pissed though also worried.

“Hello dear.” (Y/N) said, his voice wavering a bit. “I didn’t realise you were in the country.”

“I didn’t realise you have a habit of getting kidnapped in the middle of me being away on a mission.” Price said, considerably less angry.

(Y/N) held his ribs as he chuckled, it sent jabs of pain coursing through him, though he had had worse. “I try not to make it a habit but it’s hard when your husband has enemies. May as well take advantage of the fact I am capable of getting myself unkidnapped.” (Y/N) said as he made his way through the snow-filled area.

“Do you need a medic?” Price asked.

“Not immediately, I may have broken my ribs but other than that I hadn’t been tortured badly enough for me to be in any danger.” (Y/N) replied, his voice somewhat strained. “I can run without killing myself.”

“Yes, I saw that. When were you going to tell me that you hadn’t retired?” Price sounded hurt, clearly at the lack of trust.

(Y/N) sighed, his feet dragging in the snow. “Honey, you and I both know my security clearance will always be higher than yours, I was told to never tell anyone, not even you, ordered. Laswell is barely allowed to know and that is on the basis of her knowing you intimately.”

“Does this happen often?” He asked.

(Y/N) shook his head before realising his husband couldn’t see it. “No, not often. I think this is my third time. Though the hazard pay bump is to die for.” (Y/N) chuckled at his own joke, his husband didn’t.

“How much further?” Price asked, ignoring the dark joke, he was more worried about his husband surviving than laughing at a joke.

“A mile. I will contact you when I get near.” (Y/N) said and they both went silent.

A very brief reunion happened before John almost had an aneurysm. “We need a medic as soon as we land!” He said into a long-distance communicator. “Not hurt my ass!” He hauled (Y/N) into the yet and it took off. (Y/N) sighed in relief as he sank into comfortable seats.

“How long?” John asked as he brought over something to clean the cuts and blood away from him.

“Hm? What date is it?” (Y/N) asked, he was tired, starving and thirsty.

John sighed and started cleaning the wounds. “18th, but I meant, how long have you been doing this?”

“Ahhh, hmm, maybe 8 years now, since I recovered from my injury, mostly I just fuck around in Britain, spying on people there, making certain we aren’t going to succumb to infighting, fucking Tories are making my life a living hell though, all of them are so blatantly willing to become traitors if it meant keeping their wealth.” (Y/N) said. “But I was taken for 8 days this time. I don’t remember how much I have eaten.”

“We will get you checked over and then get you back on food… how have you been able to hide all of this from me?” John asked.

“Honestly, most of the time I am only there for 3 days, minimal torture and bruising, but without the support and with Laswell not present, I couldn’t risk escaping early on, they had no reason to kill me, Makarov wanted you dead and me as a glorified whore.”

John growled out in barely contained anger, his body tensed up at the thought of it. “I will kill him myself.”

(Y/N) placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you worry your head about it, I am back, safe and your mission is already to kill him.”

“My mission doesn’t matter when he attacks my husband-“ John started, “-who is a very accomplished field agent who despite his career-ending injury still managed to end up being a total badass and escape one of the most dangerous groups of international terrorists right now.” (Y/N) ended, making John smile softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, old man.”

It took a total of 5 days before (Y/N) was allowed to leave the medical ward and another 3 for his husband to stop fussing but (Y/N) fully knew that only happened because he had been called out on a mission and when John returned near dead, (Y/N) was now the one fussing over him and making sure he was healed up nicely after the whole Makarov situation.

While John stayed employed for several years after this, the two eventually both retired, including (Y/N) properly this time, to a small homestead in the Scottish countryside, close to where McTavish and Riley retired too but far enough away to have peace and quiet.

And in the end, their last remaining family members buried them side by side where they would forever rest.

The End.

#cod x male reader #john price x male reader #captain john price x male reader #male reader #lgbt #gay #badass reader

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morganmnemonic · 9 months ago

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I'm watching The Magnus Archives for the first time (i think im going to start tagging posts relevant to this with "tma liveblog" so I don't have to keep specifying). I just started season 2, and I've got to say I'm with Jon's paranoia on this one. Martin IS more competent than he's letting on. His soft, sweet, british voice is just so disarming that even hearing him talk about surviving the worm siege, I stilll mentally categorized him as "likely to die first". Sure he survived, but thats because Prentis let him go. If he actually got wormed, he'd probably just perish. Turns out, his initial idea for what would happen if he got wormed was performing emergency worm removal surgery on himself with a pocket knife. He sounded serious too, like he was mentally prepared to go through with it without hesitation if that's what it took. And if we look at what each of the characters did during the worm invasion,

Jon made no judgement calls that significantly impacted group survival one way or the other (+0) and got very wormed at the end (-1) for a grand total of -1 survival points.

Tim didn't notice that Prentis was in the archive and nearly got got (-1), sent Sasha ahead to get help, which resulted in the fire suppression system going off and saving himself and Jon from certain death (+2), got surrounded by worms in Jon's office (-1), and got very wormed at the end (-1), for a grand total of -1 survival points.

Sasha saved Tim from Prentis (+1), successfully got help, saving Tim and Jon from certain death (+2) and died (-1). For a total of 2 survival points.

Martin directed an injured Jon and Sasha to a safe place to hide from the worms and provided an effective tool for worm removal (+2), hid the stash of fire extinguishers that saved Tim from certain death (+1), and kept himself out of mortal peril for the entire duration of the invasion (+1). 4 survival points. He didn't even get injured. He's the only one who survived without intervention by forces beyond his control. Martin didn't play the part of first to die. No, this man was born for the roll of Final Girl.

And I don't think he's evil, and I don't think he killed Gertrude. But I do think that he's entirely capable of murder, if that's what it takes to survive. And I do think he will continue to exert his agency in the story in ways that the other characters and audience forget to expect from him. Not me, though. I learned my lesson. As entirely disarming as his demeanor is, I'm not going to underestimate him a second time.

#the magnus archives #tma liveblog #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #if martin had ended up in the archives alone with prentis #and had nothing to defend himself with but an empty fire extinguisher #and no good escape routes #I am so sure that he would have made a proactive effort to bash her head in with the fire extinguisher #thats just the kind of guy i think he is now #he's nervous and afraid #and i believe that. I don't think its an act #He spent weeks to months downright paranoid about worms getting in #But his fear is the sort that calms the mind and fills it with gritty determination #He doesn't flinch away from thinking about unpleasant things. and he doesn't wallow in helplessness #He just does what must be done #my rambles

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fuckyeahaudiodrama · 8 months ago

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✨APRIL/MAY LISTENS✨

hi i’m back, i’ve just finished my degree and do not have enough of a brain to write an in-depth of anything. but! here’s some of what i’ve been shoving in my earholes for the past month, in no particular order.

The Magnus Protocol — (season 1 ongoing) continues to blow my fucking mind. the sound design/music combo for this series is of particular note, it really just… mwah. elevates the text so much for me. i also continue to be impressed by how well this works as both a standalone series and as a delicious trail of candy for those of us who loved Archives. we’re halfway through s1 now and all i can think about is alice dyer.

Beef and Dairy Network — (ongoing @ 109 eps) a partially improvised absurdist comedy pod set in a world that is bizarrely obsessed with beef. my qpp listened to one episode and called it “distilled british humor” which feels… correct. i’ll be real, i’m actually mad at myself for not getting into this one sooner, but on the other hand having a long binge of it has been divine. i would kill to go to one of their live shows.

The White Vault — (5 seasons, 10 eps apiece) not including goshawk because i’ve barely started on that. but the main series… woah! god, i totally didn’t think this was going to be my thing but i could not put it down? the first season is definitely slower than i usually prefer but the characters kept me hooked and by season 3 the narrative completely took over my brain. i also love how well they sold the found audio format, it WORKS. gold fucking star, highly recommend.

Jackie the Ripper — (3 seasons, 5 eps apiece) put this one aside for a rainy day and binged it all at once. deeply wish there was more of it. it’s a raunchy crime drama with a downtrodden detective at the helm who i SWORE i wouldn’t root for but ended up doing so anyway. do recommend! if it sweetens the pot, the protag has the same VA as watson in the currently popular Sherlock & Co.

The Mistholme Museum — (6 seasons, soon to be complete) people have been recommending this to me for years and i just never got around to it, but on the bright side — it was an incredible binge. anthologies aren’t my strong suit but i found the framing device really strong and, crucially, it develops a meta plot that balances really well. biggest strength for me was the narrator, but i can’t explain why without spoiling some key plot developments. just trust me.

Wake of Corrosion — (4 seasons, final ongoing) very cool apocalyptic suspense/horror. i initially loved this show for the dynamic between the two leads, who are brothers trying to reconnect on a solitary camping trip when the world decides to go wonky. i ended up loving the worldbuilding as well. final episode drops very soon.

Neon Inkwell: The Pit Below Paradise — (miniseries, ongoing) this one has a bit of a western vibe and heavy religious/culty overtones, which isn’t my favorite genre. but i think each of the main characters has been developed really well thus far. + many fun cameos from members of the production team, those are really fun to try and spot :)

Twits: A Steampunk Distraction — (2 seasons, 5 eps apiece) very silly comedy of errors from the pov of a bumbling aristocrat. can’t say too much without giving the end of s1 twist away. i highly recommend it if you’re looking for some lighthearted listening. the ending credits are also very cute.

Planet Arcana — (ongoing @ 71 eps) i’m so bad at TTRPGs but this one has such a unique setting, i’m just captivated. tarot-flavored sci-fi adventure for anyone interested. i’ve made it through the first arc and the party has already experienced a crazy amount of development; stoked to see what happens next.

Selene — (ongoing) anthology about a spooky little town with a vintage vibe. single narrator, quite talented. i’m not always easily invested in anthologies but the narrator here really sells it for me, and (!) i think he writes children — both their thought processes and dialogue — very realistically. which is my grandest compliment.

Camp Here & There — (s1 complete @ 33 eps, hiatus?) i put off listening to this for a rainy day because i’d heard nothing but rave reviews and they weren’t lying. this is quite literally the ONLY pod i’ve come across that completely captures the same magic that WTNV did for me on first listen. the creator is kinda going thru it so idk if s2 is going to happen but i really hope so. even if not, s1 is very worth listening to. it’s wacky and sinister and i just love the narrator, it’s hard not to.

We’re Alive: Scout’s Honor — (8 ep miniseries, complete) imagine WA from the perspective of some awkward tweenagers. what’s not to love? the gore is really heightened by each characters’ stage of emotional development. i especially loved the conclusion but i won’t spoil it here ;)

Among the Stars and Bones — (2nd season ongoing) sci-fi drama with a solid first season, really nice narrative tie-up, but the second season was SUCH a glow-up nonetheless! + the most memorable karim kronfli performance of all time IMHO.

#audio drama #podrecs #i thought that this would be a cute lazy sort of graphic to make and the layering was actually a nightmare #so i kind of gave up but i hope it looks. okay #anyway these are all great shows and i’m happy to talk more about them in future #i’ll have a brain again soon. i think

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griseldagimpel · 9 months ago

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Why Basira Hussain in The Magnus Archives Isn't Textually Muslim

I've noted before that Basira Hussain in The Magnus Archives isn't textually Muslim and is implied not to have strong religious faith. And it is religious faith I want to talk about in this post. Basira may very well come from a Muslim cultural background. But she isn't depicted as a capital B Believer.

Let's start with: a character's background - of any and every sort - is going to have some kind of impact on that character. The specifics of that impact will vary - there is no universal experience of anything - and the extend of the impact will be affected by the specifics of the story they are inhabiting. But a character's background shouldn't just be garnish.

With The Magnus Archives, it's a story that deeply involves religion and religious faith, what with the fear entities being worshiped as gods and all. And that means that characters' non-fear-god religious background comes up more than it might in another narrative. Thus, we get stuff like Eugene opining that the Cult of the Lightless Flame shouldn't just imitate Christianity and Martin & Jon discussing whether the Christian God is a force they can invoke.

As such, the fact that religion never comes up with Basira - when it comes up with so many other characters in the story - leads me to believe that she doesn't have a strong religious background.

Are you following me so far?

Right. So why is this? Why did the creative team make this creative decision?

Well, it's because of season five.

The fourth season ends with the fear apocalypse beginning, and then throughout all of season five, no deity intervenes to stop the fear apocalypse. (Well, unless you want to argue this was the case with Georgie and Melanie's immunity, and there, yeah, I think from an in-story perspective their cult's pretty justified, honestly.)

We spend most of the our time with Jon & Martin, who explicitly come from culturally Christian backgrounds but don't have particularly strong Christian faith themselves and predominantly experience religion in the context of the fear gods. Then there's Basira, Georgie, and Melanie.

The goal of the fifth season is the stop the fear apocalypse, which the characters do, and then the series quickly ends. And the sequel series is over there in a whole different parallel universe.

Because, look, even after being undone, the fear apocalypse was going to fuck with a lot of humanity's religious faith (or lack there of!) something fierce. Gods are real but also they're monsters and also no other god intervened.

That's...a lot.

Basira's doesn't have strong religious faith because if she did, she'd have to process season five through the lens of her religion.

And that's...a lot.

And the creative team wanted Basira's story arc to be about her confronting the harm she and Daisy did as corrupt cops.

Also, look, a British podcast depicting the Christian God as either probably nonexistent or useless? That's like, whatever. England's got a whole Church of England. Christians in England aren't being persecuted for being Christian. The episode "The Architect of Fear" can have Robert Smirke write, "I am certain the Dread Powers cannot take a soul who keeps faith in the Resurrection." and then drop dead before he can even finish his letter. It's fine.

But a British podcast specifically depicting a Muslim character having to confront that their faith is false?

Muslims in England are a religious minority. They don't have a whole institutionalized Mosque of England behind them.

Yeah, that could easily end up coming off as Jerk Move.

Not saying that it couldn't be done or couldn't make a compelling narrative, but it would be a lot to take on. It would risk overpowering the corrupt cop reckoning character arc. And the creative team would have to tread carefully for it not to be a Jerk Move.

Ergo, it's easier on the creative team for them to just...not have Basira be religiously Muslim.

Relatedly, Melanie and Georgie aren't depicted as strongly religious for similar reasons. Because they're outside of the Eye's power! If either of them had a strong religious faith, the characters would likely be interpreting their exemption as being a reflection of their faith! And that would be another plotline where the creative team would likely feel like they had to tread carefully lest their story come off as Jerk Move. Again, not impossible to pull off. But difficult.

#the magnus archives #meta #religion #islam in fiction #christianity in fiction

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scotianostra · 4 months ago

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On August 18th 1826 Scottish explorer, Alexander Gordon Laing, became the first European to reach Timbuktu.

I’m not really going to really go into Lain’gs past as the anniversary of his birth is in September and I want to keep things fresh, so this will be about the expedition and nothing more.

Handsome and confident, Laing was convinced that Timbuktu was his destiny, and his ticket to glory.

The city of Timbuktu has always excited men’s imaginations. For early explorers, its riches were as legendary as the mythical city of El Dorado in South America, but I wonder how many had there eyes on looting it’s fabled treasures rather than any other reason, Laing though was said to be driven by love.

Almost 200 years ago, no European had seen Timbuktu before a Scot got there in 1826, his trip a victory of spirit over hardship, intrigue and danger. His desperate struggle to reach Timbuktu and what he saw when he got there were recorded in a series of journals which he planned to publish on his return home to win him fame and fortune.

Sadly the journal he wrote, nor the man himself made it back home, all we have to record the trip are the letters he sent to his love, his wife Emma Warrington, who kept every one of them, sent carefully by camel across the Sahara, and today, they form an amazing story of Africa.

Every two weeks, he would send the letters home to her, some of them as many as 5000 words long. All of his letters to his wife have survived and are in the Royal Society archive in London. You can piece together his daily life and the detail is incredible.

The author Frank T. Kryza carefully worked his way through these letters to write his bestseller, The Race for Timbuktu: In Search of Africa's City of Gold. Kryza said of the project; “What really sold me was that so many books about Africa are of the boy scout variety – men shooting lions. One of the key figures in this story is a woman and most of the history of Africa does not have a woman as a key protagonist The love story aspect of it is unique – there is no other story about Africa that has that feature.”

Laing was born in Edinburgh, the son of a teacher, an intelligent but poor man. He was sent to Edinburgh University but he was ambitious and resolved to make his fortune In those days, young men did that by exploring the dark continent and recording their adventures.

Laing left Britain in February 1825 for Libya, where he planned to kick off his trek. There, he fell in love with Emma, the daughter of the British consul in Tripoli. The pair were married two days before he set off on July 14th. Their farewell was their final one. Kryza explains; “Imagine marrying a woman and then leaving her two days later and never seeing her again.“It made Laing a very interesting guy but he was also very ambitious and he paid for his ambition with his life.“Laing was determined he was going to be as famous as Captain Cook and almost succeeded.”

At stake too was the prize of 10,000 francs offered by France’s Societe de Geographie for the first European to get to Timbuktu and return alive. Laing spent an excruciating time walking across the Sahara Desert to get to Timbuktu. During the journey he was ill, suffered from fever and was continually on guard for the nomad slavers who criss-crossed the desert.He was finally betrayed by his guide and attacked, losing his right hand in the fighting, but managed to arrive in Timbuktu on this day 1826. He spent a month there recovering.

It’s difficult to know what Laing found in Timbuktu, as he didn’t have time to give much information about the city. He said that the place had ‘completely met [his] expectations’, but that his position was rather unsafe due to the unfriendly disposition of the locals. One tantalising sentence in the letter reveals that he kept busy ‘searching the records in the town, which are abundant’ . It can safely be assumed that he was talking about the famous Timbuktu manuscripts, many of which were destroyed in 2012-2013 following the fall of Timbuktu in the Northern Mali conflict, along with many other monuments of medieval Islamic culture in Timbuktu, by the Islamist rebels

His last letter said he planned to leave Timbuktu on September 24.

He left Timbuktu as planned, but a couple of days later he was ambushed in Sahab, about 30 miles north – this time, he didn’t survive. His servant Bongola, who survived the attack and made his way to Tripoli, described the attack in January 1829: ‘I awoke with a blow from a sword on the head which made me giddy and my head fell. When I recovered, I saw (…) my master’s head off.’

Laing’s head was left under a tree, and all his papers, journals and maps disappeared. These missing papers led to an Anglo-French crisis. Warrington had fought against France in Spain and clearly hated the French. He convinced himself that the French Consul at Tripoli, Baron Rousseau, had conspired with a local sheikh to get his hands on the papers . Over two years later when René Caillé published the account of his journey to Timbuktu, Warrington accused him of having based his book on Laing’s papers.

Emma’s fate is only slightly less tragic. Her bullying dad forced her to marry his vice consul, who was shortly afterwards transferred to Italy, where Emma died before she was 30.

#scotland #scottish #history #explorer #soldier #spy?#teacher

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concerningwolves · 10 months ago

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do you have any like, folkore book recommendations? it could be of any folklore! although, i mainly know about Greek & Norse. or maybe perhaps, books about witchcraft & demonology?

Anon I am kissing you on the forehead. thank you for this ask

If you like Norse myths, Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman is a really good starting point – I adore how Gaiman weaves a narrative through the tales so that they feel cohesive. (I think this can be a slightly problematic practise, but imho it's also very effective if you want to just read and enjoy some myths). I read it in one day and then had Many Thoughts for the rest of the week.

Northern Lights: Legends, Sagas and Folk-tales edited by Kevin Crossley-Holland is a collection of Norse and Germanic stories. I've been meaning to reread this one because I don't think I was in the right headspace to really enjoy it the first time, so I can't give much of a review other than I feel it gives a really nice entry-point to anyone who wants to branch out beyond the more popular Norse myths. (Plus, it's up on the Internet Archive)

For a more scholarly deep-dive into Norse myths, I wholeheartedly recommend Gods and Myths of Northern Europe by H. R. Ellis Davidson. It's a deeply fascinating book which looks at the cultural history around Norse myths, then walks through how much we actually know about each Norse god and goddess. (I am still haunted by the fact Davidson says that Heimdall has been described as a "woodpecker god" and then doesn't elaborate)

Moving into Greek myths, I'm a big fan of the Mythos series by Stephen Fry. It's three books, one covering the cosmology of the Greek mythic world; one focusing on the myths around heroes and demigods; and the last telling the story of the Siege of Troy. Like with Gaiman's Norse Mythology, Fry brings a sense of narrative cohesion to the myths, but he's not just telling a story – he talks about the sources and different variations of the myths, which I find so fascinating. I've listened to the audiobooks three times now.

The folklore I'm most into is British Isles folklore. The Fairies in Tradition and Literature by Katharine Briggs is a fast favourite. Despite the title, she also looks at a wide variety of fairy-adjacent folkloric beings. I had so so much fun reading it.

(And on the subject of English folklore, two recent-ish favourites are The Folklore of Sussex by Jacqueline Simpson and the Folklore of Hertfordshire by Doris Jones-Baker; they're part of a collection of regional folklore books which I'm determined to read in its entirety. I really appreciated the way Simpson wrote about witchcraft and the kind of people most often accused of being witches).

I cannot talk about folktale books without recommending English Fairytales and More English Fairytales by Joseph Jacobs. I've only read More English Fairytales, but I've read it... so much. I killed my first copy with love and had to get another one. I picked up English Fairytales in a secondhand shop last week and I'm excited to start reading it. I think both are available online for free, too.

I'll have to go look at my cabin bookshelves tomorrow because I'm sure I'm forgetting some other favourites; I just wanted to answer this now before it got swallowed by my drafts forever

If anyone else has any recs of books on folklore, I would greatly appreciate them :3 (and I'm sure anon will too)

#book recs #misadventuring in Mythology and folklore #folklore #fairytales

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max1461 · 1 year ago

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Okay, here is one such policy. Here is a specific example of a large governing body actually using the term “replacement” to describe its immigration goals for Europe and the United States. https://archive.is/YH9cY I am sending you an archive link because the actual page was taken down. Surprise surprise, people don’t want to be replaced.

Now of course, the world is somewhat complex. It’s not like the UN is the world government. So you need to go to other people and other governments. Look into the immigration policy of every single western nation - the immigration policy of all of them are moving third world trash in the millions into White nations. Do you think those migrant boats (which luckily do sometimes sink) come from nowhere? No, they come from anti-White governments and NGOs working in tandem to change the demographics. It must be also remembered that immigration is not natural. Immigrants are imported. Immigration could be curbed at any moment - in fact, one of the principle reasons for founding civilization at all is “protecting ourselves from outsiders.”

I sent you quotes from individual people, which you then described as “quotes from randos.” An example of one such rando was Joe Biden, a rando who I think has some government position nowadays. He stated at the 2015 White House global conference on confronting global extremism (where they sometimes let randos speak) that “the black box” for America, which he defined as “the secret hidden strength,” was 1. Skepticism for orthodoxy, and 2. The fact that White people will become a minority through mass migration.

An important concept I sent you, which you just kinda glazed over, was the Celebration Parallax. A parallax is the effect where the same thing is viewed differently by different angles. If someone says “the Great Replacement is real, and it’s bad and awful,” then they are a right-wing nutjob conspiracy theorists freak like me. If someone says “the Great Replacement is real, and it’s a good thing. White people will become a minority, your grandkids will be brown” like you then they are not incorrect in any way. Ash Sarkar is a Pakistani politician within British who has specifically pointed to changing demographics being real, and described it with “we’re winning.” Why would she say that? Why would she say “we’re winning” when describing how Pakistanis are replacing the British through demographic change? Mark Sotok of the SPLC has a chart on his wall of the declining White population, specifically singling out the year 1965 when the immigration act was passed. The 1965 immigration act was passed under false pretenses, by the way. People at the time correctly pointed out it would change the demographics of the USA, and it’s supporters simply lied and said it wouldn’t do that. It was passed, and demographics changed, which was always the purpose.

But I’m getting off on tangents. The point is, once you say the Great Replacement is good, you are no longer a conspiracy theorist. It’s only people who say it is bad who are conspiracy theorists.

“The man of the future will be a mongrel. Today's races and classes will disappear owing to the disappearing of space, time, and prejudice. The Eurasian-Negroid race of the future, similar in its outward appearance to the Ancient Egyptians, will replace the diversity of peoples with a diversity of individuals." - Richard Nikolaus von Coudenhove-Kalergi, Austrian politician, father of the modern European Union, certainly not a right wing crank

“We have got to eliminate the gringo, and what I mean by that is if the worst comes to the worst, we have got to kill him." - Jose Angel Gutierrez, Chicano activist, attorney and university professor, who probably doesn’t mean that, right?

“The key to solving the social problems of our age is to abolish the White race. The goal of abolishing the White race is on its face so desirable that some may find it hard to believe that it could incur any opposition other than from committed White supremacists. We'll keep bashing the dead White males, and the live ones, and the females too, until the social construct known as the White race is destroyed. Not deconstructed, but destroyed. Treason to the White race is Loyalty to Humanity." - Professor Noel Ignatiev at Harvard

The 21st century will be a century of mass genocide so complete and total that the genocides of the 19th and 20th (even the fake ones) will pale in comparison. The only question now is which races aren’t surviving.

Ok, let's start at the very beginning. That link does not say what you are claiming it says.

To quote from your link:

United Nations projections indicate that over the next 50 years, the populations of virtually all countries of Europe as well as Japan will face population decline and population ageing. The new challenges of declining and ageing populations will require comprehensive reassessments of many established policies and programmes, including those relating to international migration. Focusing on these two striking and critical population trends, the report considers replacement migration for eight low-fertility countries (France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Republic of Korea, Russian Federation, United Kingdom and United States) and two regions (Europe and the European Union). Replacement migration refers to the international migration that a country would need to offset population decline and population ageing resulting from low fertility and mortality rates.

So, first of all, this is not a policy. It is a report by the UN Department of Economic and Social Affairs, reviewing the scientific evidence for whether a particular policy would be successful. This is similar to the IPCC climate change reports. If you know anything about those, you'll know that the advice of reports like this is not necessarily likely to be followed by world governments at all.

Ok, with that out of the way, what policy is this report examining? Well, you can read it for yourself, but it says it right there in the bit I quote: the report is examining the policy of offsetting already declining local populations through immigration. So it's not about shrinking the white population on purpose! It literally does not advocate that. It's basically saying "in developed countries where the native born population is already shrinking, can immigration be used to provide a source of young laborers to bolster the economy?"

That is the policy of "replacement" they're talking about, not some policy of intentionally shrinking the native born (white, Japanese, Korean, whatever) population!

Do you understand how this is different than what you claimed?

And, just to be clear, the report mentioned Japan and South Korea as countries where this policy could be tried as well, because they have low birthrates and shrinking native-born populations. But, again, the report is not advocating wiping out Japanese people. It's saying "Japan's population is already shrinking for reasons that we can't control. Given that it's already shrinking, could Japan offset its population decline through immigration."

This is not a policy of intentional race extermination. It just isn't. It's clear that you didn't even read the fucking report you linked, because that is simply not what it says.

So, on to the next thing.

[Joe Biden] stated at the 2015 White House global conference on confronting global extremism (where they sometimes let randos speak) that “the black box” for America, which he defined as “the secret hidden strength,” was 1. Skepticism for orthodoxy, and 2. The fact that White people will become a minority through mass migration.

Ok, this is a fun one because it's obvious you just saw the Tucker Carlson clip on this, and didn't actually go to the original source. Anyway, you can watch the full clip of Biden speaking here.

Tucker Carlson excerpted the following quote for a segment on his show, and it's what's apparently got everyone in hysterics:

An unrelenting stream of immigration, nonstop, nonstop. Folks like me who were Caucasian, of European descent for the first time in 2017 will be in an absolute minority in the United States of America, absolute minority. Fewer than 50 percent of the people in America from then and on will be White European stock. That’s not a bad thing. That’s as a source of our strength.

Anyway, if you actually watch the whole clip, Biden starts talking about the "constant stream of immigration" referring to (primarily white) immigration in the 1700s. He specifically mentions the Irish (because he's Irish)! Later in the discussion he mentions that white people will be less than 50% of the population in 2017, and it's pretty clear that he's saying this to illustrate the point that America is very open to immigrants. Like, he's not saying this because he thinks the demographic change itself is great, or because he wants white people to be a minority. It's extremely clear that he's just using this as one among several ways to illustrate the old "America is nation of immigrants" talking point, which he was already discussing just a few sentences earlier.

I frankly think there's basically no ambiguity at all here, when he says "that's the source of our strength", he means "immigration is the source of our strength", not "white people becoming a minority is the source of our strength". Like, just watch the whole clip!

The "America is a nation of immigrants" talking point isn't new. That talking point has been around for over a hundred years at this point! Emma Lazarus wrote The New Colossus in 1883! It's just a fucking talking point that every American president parrots. It has nothing to do with intentionally manipulating racial demographics, it has very little to do with actual policy (because American immigration policy has always been hostile to whatever the newest wave of migrants is), and it definitely isn't because of some UN report. Biden is trying to sound progressive, and he knows that pro-immigration talking points poll well with progressive voters, and so he's repeating the oldest one in the book.

This is really obvious. He's just a politician being a politician. It's not a conspiracy.

I'll give you one thing, he does unambiguously say that it's not a bad thing for white people to become less than 50% of the population. And, well, I agree! It's not a bad thing, it's not a good thing, it's just a neutral thing. Populations change and I'm not worried about it. But just because Joe Biden and I agree that it's not a bad thing doesn't mean either of us are trying to fucking orchestrate it happening in a grand conspiracy. This is just dumb.

Ok, next thing:

Now, I want you to read this next paragraph very carefully, because you have repeatedly ignored it, and I will not respond to any future messages in which it is clear you have not read it carefully:

When you very first messaged me, I asked you to define the Great Replacement. You defined it to me as an intentional policy, by Western governments, of trying to shrink the white population and replace them with immigrants. That is what you said. Do you understand this? Ok. And I said "demographics are changing, but it's not because of an intentional policy to get rid of white people. It's just the natural result of people having more freedom to move around the world. Demographic change is a neutral fact, it's not good or bad. People having more freedom of movement is good. So I support laxer immigration policies, and I don't really care about demographic change one way or the other".

Do you understand the position I am stating here? Again, I will not respond to any future messages in which you show me that you don't understand what I am saying. So read that paragraph as many times as you need to to be really confident that you've got it.

We do not simply have a "difference of perspectives" on the same thing. We are saying different things. You are saying there is a set of intentional policies to replace white people. I am saying there is not. We both agree that demographics are changing. I agree that the white population in the US seems to be shrinking, and although I haven't looked at the stats for any EU countries, I don't have any reason to doubt that it's shrinking in some of those countries too. We agree about this part.

You keep accusing me of thinking that this demographic change is good, and of wanting to exterminate white people. I keep telling you that I think this demographic change is neutral, and I don't care how many white people there are.

Do you understand? I have said this to you at least six times at this point. You have shown me that you can actually follow what I'm saying if I tell you that I won't respond to you otherwise, so you need to read what I just said until you understand it if you want to keep having this conversation. The above paragraphs are the most import part of this post. If you show me that you did not pay attention to them I will not respond to your message.

Ok, next thing:

Ash Sarkar is a Pakistani politician within British who has specifically pointed to changing demographics being real, and described it with “we’re winning.” Why would she say that? Why would she say “we’re winning” when describing how Pakistanis are replacing the British through demographic change?

I have no fucking idea. Ash Sarkar is a fucking YouTube political commentator, this is someone I would describe as "a rando". It does not matter to me what she thinks. Having seen a couple of her videos I suspect it was probably a joke, but I don't know, and even if she was serious it doesn't support your point. Because she is a fucking rando. I can find just as many internet commentators actually saying they want to exterminate black people. There are members of the KKK in elected office in the US. If you can use randos to back up your point then so can I. People believe all kinds of shit. If you want to show that some policy exists, you need to point to the evidence of that policy actually being carried out. For white supremacist policies I can actually do this, I can point you to evidence of segregation and redlining and so on. If you can't do this for the Great Replacement (as you fucking defined it) then you have no argument.

Next thing:

Mark Sotok of the SPLC has a chart on his wall of the declining White population, specifically singling out the year 1965 when the immigration act was passed. The 1965 immigration act was passed under false pretenses, by the way. People at the time correctly pointed out it would change the demographics of the USA, and it’s supporters simply lied and said it wouldn’t do that. It was passed, and demographics changed

Again, I don't care that demographics changed. I don't care about what percentage white people are of the population. I like when people have freedom of movement and I do not care if this changes population demographics.

which was always the purpose.

I strongly suspect it was not. If you think that it was, please provide any evidence at all.

I agree that this guy thought this. I don't deny that, like, some people have held this ideology. But if you think this is what motivates either the modern left or major world governments, I think you're just not paying attention to what's actually going on. There are pro-immigration camps and anti-immigration camps in every democracy. Sometimes people in the pro-immigration camps use rhetoric like this, but mostly they don't. They use they same rhetoric that I'm using, or they talk about the economic benefits, or whatever. The anti-immigration camps have their own rhetoric. The policies that actually get passed, like all policies, are then compromise positions between the desires of the various factions involved. But there's no conspiracy to eliminate white people, and the kind of position you are quoting here is very uncommon in my experience.

No I'm sure he means that, he's just a fucking random academic. I told you that quotes from random academics and shit are not evidence. There's random academics who say the physical world doesn't exist, it's all a product of subjective consciousness. Do you think that guides the policy of Joe fucking Biden? Cause I don't.

I'm pretty sure this person is talking about abolishing the concept of whiteness, which is actually a pretty common position among academics. There are a lot of academics who talk about "abolishing race", and what they mean is abolishing the idea of race, so that people will no longer think of themself as "white" or "black" or whatever, but just as "people". Pretty often they specifically want to abolish the idea of a "white race" because they think that the concept of "whiteness" been used as a tool of oppression. So they'd rather white people just identify their ethnicity as like "Italian" or "Irish" or whatever if they have to, and not as "white". Like I said, this is a pretty common position among humanities academics.

I know this is what these people are saying because I've met these people. They like to dress up their ideas in the most radical sounding language they can, which is basically a strategy for making themselves sound cool to their in-group. But what they actually believe is pretty moderate; it's not that all white people should die, it's that white people should no longer use the collective identity of "white".

I don't know if that's what this person is saying, but it kind of sounds like that's what this person is saying. It has all the hallmarks of a humanities academic trying to sound provocative for clout. Do you see how they refer to "the social construct of the White race"? So they're not saying they want to kill white people, but that they want to kill the idea of "Whiteness".

It's unfortunate that they talk this way, because it feeds into conspiracy theories like yours. I've tried to explain this to people but they usually don't listen. Unfortunate.

This is so fucking stupid, and I'm gonna be frank with you, I kind of think you know it's stupid. Like I've avoided pointing this out until now, but you insert all these cheeky little comments and provocative asides into what you're saying in a way that makes me think at some level you know you're saying it to get a rise out of people, you like adding in the most extreme bits you can because it's fun. You're a dumbass.

#anon #society #hooooo boy #hey if anybody sees any typos in this please point them out to me #I don't have the energy to proof read right now

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bohemian-nights · 2 years ago

Text

Lady Danbury: Chapter 3

Word count: ~5,155

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Lord Ledger x Lady Danbury

Warnings ⚠️: Sexual assault

Description: The new Lady Agatha Danbury was decidedly not happy. Neither was Lord Ledger. Perhaps they might find a bit of happiness in each other.

AN: This is a Lord Ledger x Lady Danbury AU fic. Some plot lines from Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story have been axed🪓

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,

Charlotte of Mecklenburg and Strelitz was brown. Very brown indeed, yet she was the reason for all the fuss. The hurried invitations to the royal wedding. Their new titles. Their ascension into British nobility that had long been denied. All because their new queen was brown.

A fair young German bride they wanted for their Hanover king, but what they got was a girl with Moorish blood. Moorish blood that could not be so easily concealed.

The great experiment. That was what they were calling it. The great accident was more an apt term. Agatha did not believe that this had been the intention of the palace. She did not know Princess Augusta well or at all, but the woman did not seem as if she would knowingly marry her son, her only son, to a girl so obviously not one of them.

A king's early days are a shaky thing. King George’s was no exception. An air of discord could be felt in his court. Between the growing tensions in the colonies who wanted more freedoms, parliament who wanted a present king who did not isolate himself at Kent, and the palace with Lord Butte breathing down her neck, the princess would not risk her son's crown so freshly into his reign to try out some grand experiment.

A quiet chaos had erupted. One which no one wanted to name, an uneasy balance that could topple over at any moment. And Agatha had found herself thrust between Princess Augusta who wanted her as a spy and the new queen who wanted her as a friend.

Though precocious and clearly a bright girl, the queen was so very young. Her naivety shone through for all to see and if she were not careful it would be her downfall before she even had begun. The downfall of them all for this Great Experiment depended upon her success. A girl of seven and ten shipped off by her brother to be the queen of England with seemingly no real preparation.

She was not accustomed to English society. Charlotte was every bit the foreign queen. Her English was accented. Her manner of dress was ostentatiously European. Her hair was more African than Agatha’s curly ringlets that Coral set every night, but the queen's hair was Big and bold. Foreign. Her husband would never allow her to wear her hair in such a way.

She was far too trusting and willing to divulge what should remain private. The understatement and reserve of the English were lost to her. A girl with so much will and curiosity. The girl was a fish out of water. It would not do.

Of course, Agatha had been younger than their queen when she had been married off, but she had known her duty. She was molded for it even if she had failed said duty. She knew her place and she knew what was required of her, but the queen was unaware of her role.

“He was rude,” Charlotte complained to her when she had been invited to tea at Buckingham House. During the girls' honeymoon. A gaff which would have been disastrous if she had invited one of her other ladies or had informed them of what she had told Agatha. “He just wanted to go home.”

The king had left for Kew without consummating their union and the girl was ignorant of what the marital act entailed. Of how babies were made. Drawings. Agatha had to make her drawings of the act itself. Providing her with what little comfort she could. “It can be pleasant.” Though she had experienced that pleasantness herself. She sympathized with her, but there was so much at stake. Too much to leave with chance.

Charlotte failed to understand the gravity of the situation at hand. She was unaware of the importance of her. Wrapped up in worrying over whether her husband liked or disliked her, but that was not the point of her union. Love is seldom the point, nor is it the foundation upon which a marriage is built. Her marriage was certainly more than love. The queen had more to worry about than personal sentiments.

The Queen had one duty. The same duty as any other woman. To continue on her husband's line. To bear and birth the next king of England. If she did not do her duty, if she did not lay with her husband and produce a son and heir soon, those shiny titles their side of the Ton had been given because of her would be gone just as quickly as they had come about. The Great Experiment would become a mere blip in history.

The queen's womb could not remain empty. Princess Augustus had made it plain that a royal heir, a baby, was needed to seal this adventure. Even then a baby was not the only thing needed for this experiment to be a success.

“Girl.” They had called her girl. Lord Butte and Princess Augustus. Not Lady Danbury. Not Countess Danbury. Not the tile which they had kindly bestowed upon her. Not even Mrs. Danbury. Girl.

It stung like a prick on one’s finger. A reminder that they and their titles were so very new. Such a delicate thing. A delicate thing that Agatha was beginning to understand was not enough. A title was nothing by itself.

Not without land and income. They could not be denied membership at Whites and the taking up of their seats in the House of Lords or barred from any modistes they wished to take their business to. Their children should be allowed just as many seats at the likes of Eton and Harrow as the older gentry.

Hunts, teas, and balls had to be held where both sides would attend with great zeal. Dance, make japes, admire, participate in gentlemanly competition, and gossip with one another. They could not just be equals in name only. That is what they needed above all. Regardless of these more true measures of their status as the nobility, a baby would be at the center of everyone's mind. Babies for the crown were not eagerly awaiting the next generation.

Agatha’s own duty was brought back to the forefront. The baby race had begun anew. Mr. Danbury had finally become Lord Danbury. He had his title and he wanted the same as any other man. As any other lord. A son and heir.

What was a title if there was no son which to inherit it. To continue on his line. His legacy. The Danbury legacy now. The Earl of Danbury. A nephew would no longer do. It mattered not if Agatha had secured land, a home befitting an earl, and an income of five thousand a year for his new title. If she must be a spy for the palace so that they might have all of those hall markers of their new station, without a son it would all be for naught. What good was Agatha if she did not birth her husband a son?

She was still a very young woman. Her eighth and twentieth birthday had just passed. Lord Danbury mused that perhaps he had plucked her too soon from her garden. A damaged seed that had never been allowed to heal so that it may grow.

New doctors were called for. They had agreed with Lord Danbury's assessment. She had been too young. Made to bear a child before she was ready, but her body had quickened once. With a little patience, and the proper course of treatment, it could be made to do so again.

Neither the bloodletting nor the leeches were employed. Lord Danbury had seen the folly of that road. It had nearly killed so they were not to touch her. He needed his wife whole. He would not admit that it had been she who had secured him their estate, perhaps he was even oblivious of it.

Attributing his new possessions to his own connections and good name, but he needed her. It would be the most inopportune time to lose a wife. Especially one who had the ear and friendship of the young queen and the palace.

Her old regiment of teas, herbs, and tonics was renewed. They banned her from eating fish and drinking champagne. She was given a bedtime as if she were a child. Her meals were no longer a thing of enjoyment. An odd mix of bland fares. The same every day. She ate porridge for breakfast or buttered toast, occasionally some fruit was thrown in as a treat. Soups were served for lunch that were more broth than anything and boiled pheasant with turnips for dinner. Half her food was drowned in butter making everything a taste of grease.

The doctors had their disagreements and contradictions. One had boldly ventured to say that the fault of her failure to conceive may lie with Lord Danbury himself. “Mayhaps your lordship might find that at your age it would be beneficial to begin your own regiment. It would aid in your wife’s conception tenfold." The poor man had been hastily discharged of his services after receiving an earful from her husband. The others had made note of their colleagues' dismissal and were wise to keep their treatments regulated to Lady Danbury.

“Her ladyship must avoid stress,” Dr. Cots, a wiry man would repeat to her a dozen times with a tisk. He was well-meaning, but it was easy for him to tell her so when he was himself and allowed to be as he was.

He did not have to deal with a princess who only saw her as useful so long as she provided her with the private details of a naive homesick girl, a queen who was oblivious to the needs of her subjects who looked like her, or a husband who obsessed over her womb more than she herself. He did not have to deal with the ever-growing list of demands made of her. To keep everyone happy or at least satisfied so that they may all get their piece.

She could not rest. She was not just some simple woman. She was Lady Agatha Danbury now. She had her duties. Anytime not spent trying to conceive was spent trying to equalize their station. She could not sit upon her laurels at her leisure. Especially not now. Not when she had a ball, the first of the season, to plan. A ball which she had to go behind Princess Agusta’s back for.

A ball that had been met with a not-so-quiet opposition. Invitations had been sent to both yet none apart from her side of the Ton had answered with a firm acceptance and that was due in no small part to Lady Vivian Ledger who was leading the charge of said opposition.

Agatha knew that the dowager princess did not like her, looked down upon her, and most certainly believed her to be an overly opinionated person. She had thought her to be a quiet little meek thing that would do her bidding without complaint or questions asked.

She soon found that her church mouse had more mouth than she had expected and while it was an irritation, she, like Lord Danbury, had need of her so she tolerated her bouts of insubordination for the crown's benefit.

Lady Ledger did not find her to be a thing in which to be tolerated in any such capacity. She made no secret of her disdain or at least she did not hide it very well. Of how she disliked being in her presence. Of having to associate with the new members of the Ton at all and she and Lady Danbury’s paths crossed frequently. Familiarity did indeed breed contempt for the more time Agatha spent in Lady Ledger’s company the more her own dislike of her grew. Boycotting her ball had been the latest in a long line of affronts from the horrid woman.

Along with three other wives of the Ton, Lady Sylvia Cowper, Lady Margaret Meredith, Mrs. Camellia Thorpe, and Lady Lavina Allen, the two had both been chosen to be a part of the queen's court as her ladies. Those ladies were an overall horrid bunch of women that reminded Agatha of a pack of feckless birds.

Their titles and the age of said titles, that was the first slight that Lady Ledger penned upon Agatha. It happened over the seating arrangement at tea. ”I believe that is Lady Danbury’s seat, Lady Ledger.” Charlotte gave Lady Ledger a polite smile when she had sought to seat herself to the queen's right. A place of honor reserved for the lady who held the highest title.

“You may sit there.” The young queen pointed to the settee further to her right. A countess outranked a baroness. The order of rank took precedence in their new queen's court, but that ought not to be the order of things in Lady Ledger's opinion.

Agatha was the wife of an earl, but the ink had not fully dried upon her husband’s title. “Lord Ledger is the eleventh Baron Ledger.” That was what Lady Allen had told her when she had pulled her aside at tea with their queen. “Quite rich too my dear. Lord knows that it is the only reason why the two were matched together. Poor devil.”

Lady Allen was a tall, older, dark-haired woman with a pointed nose which gave her the appearance of haughtiness. Out of the horrid bunch she was the most agreeable. She had a reputation for her eccentricity; she was, however, not a truly awful woman.

Her husband was a baron twice her age who seemed to renew himself with every year passed, the third Baron Allen, but she herself was the daughter of the Late Duke of Redford. A fact which she liked to lord over Lady Ledger whose own father had been a mere baronet, but from an old and rich line. Though it was nothing compared to the Dukedom of Redford and as such the two women were often at a crossfire. Agatha suspected that this crossfire was the reason why Lady Allen was so eager to make niceties with her in spite of her newness.

To some, the age of the title Agatha had come to find mattered just as much if not more than the title itself. The Earl of Danbury was a new title. They were a part of the new Ton. With the wrong set of features coming from distant exotic lands for good measure.

What was the name Danbury compared to Ledger? The Ledgers may be just barons, but their family had held the title uninterrupted for four and a half centuries. “A fresh coat of paint stains one’s dress, soiling it beyond repair in most cases, when sat upon.” Lady Allen whispered before taking a sip of her tea. She was never one to mince words as uncomfortable as they may be, however, Agatha appreciated her frankness.

Lady Ledger, whose title carried every bit the weight of those four hundred years of good gentile English society, believed that they would never dry and she would not let the new members of the Ton forget so.

That stain followed Agatha everywhere she went. With every action she made. She was the outsider. That was made plain. Others followed her lead with glee. Her perfect little soldiers. Keeping the newly titled inline. It united the old Ton who were always at each other's throats with their schemes and plots brought about by petty grievances. They had a new enemy in which to ice over and out.

Whenever she took up her seat beside the queen she was met with stony glares from the ladies in attendance well after the issue had been settled. If Agatha voiced her enjoyment at these gatherings, be it the music, the treats baked by the chefs, or something as simple as the weather, they would voice their objections to it. How very droll he plays. It is too sweet. The weather we had last week was much more pleasant. It is a bit too hot for my blood.

Her visits to their modistes were met with whispers. They would without an apology given, green, blue, or dark eyes that watched her every move like a hawk as she flitted about the store. If she tried to meet their gazes they would turn their own and feign interest in the silks that were on display.

The modiste herself, a mousy French woman with a heavy accent, never turned her away, but if there were other patrons, patterns with pale faces who would not look her in the eyes, but would murmur to themselves around her. Mrs. Thorpe had rather loudly invited all of the queen's ladies to her estate for the hunting season. Everyone apart from Agatha.

It was not just she who received this icing. It would never just be one or two of them. They were all stains upon the Ton and were treated as such. Lady Kent was barred from the very same modiste Agatha had ordered her new gown for the ball from. The Duke of Hastings was refused entry to Whites. Lord Danbury had gone to hunt with the king but was denied from joining them.

He had used it as an excuse, as if he really needed one for it was his right, to take his frustrations out upon her. Coral had insisted that she draw her a bath, not caring if she washed away his seed, and procured some salve for inner thighs that had been rubbed raw from his badgering.

The ball was a chance at remedying this deadlock in progress. They could not go on like this. Without recognition their titles meant nothing. Agatha had sent out invitations a month before the ball, but every Lord, Lady, and untitled gentleman in between of the old Ton found some excuse that kept them from attending or took to avoiding giving an answer to said invitation in its entirety.

The dowager princess was no help to them. She wanted her to cancel her ball. “The crown can not choose sides, Agatha.” She had told her with Lord Butte's sore face hissing on impartiality before being dismissed. Impartiality was the crown’s approach to everything,

Yet it was they who had chosen to go through this experiment. To make them titled members of the Ton. To integrate them within society, but no one could say that any true integration had taken place. They would stay stuck in this place of limbo with no recourse. Would flounder and not even their queen seemed to care.

Months rolled by, and their honeymoon was long over, but the queen's attention remained preoccupied, or rather obsessively fixated on her husband and his whereabouts. Agatha had tried to hint at the desperation of their situation, but the girl lived in her own world. She was entirely ambivalent about the needs of her people.

To that too Agatha could see that the fault did not lie with her. Charlotte was a girl who was unused to being othered. She had grown up with her place firmly set in the world. Her parents had ruled over their own land and her eldest brother after them. Their title and land had passed onto him without contest.

She did not understand what it meant to be considered a foreigner in one’s own home. To be excluded from appropriate society. Not allowed lands or a title. Not even allowed attendance at a ball. She did not even see that she was different from the people who she ruled over now. The ones who sought to exclude her people.

She had tried to get the girl to understand with less forthright means, but Agatha could no longer hold her tongue. “You hold our fates in your hands.” Charlotte was the queen. She had to be the queen. It was all up to her. It was now or never that they would be seen as equals or fall back to the edges of society, to exclusion, back to where they were supposed to be according to these people. “Your palace walls are too high, your majesty.”

Truthfully Agatha did not know what to expect when she had left the queen on such a note. She had hoped that she had not driven the girl further away. She prayed that she had actually listened to her. The girl was so hardheaded, but she needed her to listen to her. For she could not cancel her ball. Not now.

We are all given a lot in life, but that does not mean that circumstances can not change. Change is a constant in life and things had changed. They just needed a little push for those who doubted them to see that the only way was forward.

Agatha would not have chosen this life for herself. She certainly would not have chosen to be Lord Hermain Danbury’s wife. To be made to simper to those who wished her to mind her place. To be made into a vessel To go through all these treatments, the pain, the humiliations, in hopes of birthing an heir for a man who she loathed in so many ways, but could never fully express so. She had no control over that, but this she might.

They deserved more than to be used and discarded as if they were rats in some madman’s lab. She would see that they got more. She could influence the queen. She prayed she could influence her.

In the end, her fretting had been for naught. It was not a mere minute past Lord Danbury obsessing over his appearance and worrying saying that their guest would never arrive did their first guest indeed arrive.

None other than Lady Ledger herself accompanied by her husband Lord Ledger. Her pale face strained under the weight of a poorly constructed smile that did not reach her icy irises. Agatha wondered how long she could hold that smile before it finally cracked and revealed some measure of truth.

Her husband, Lord Ledger held that very same false smile at first glance. It was not until Lady Ledger had taken back her hand with some speed to head into their drawing room that had been transformed into a ballroom with Lord Danbury hot on her heels, did his eyes, which were a friendly shade of brown Agatha would later decide, warm.

With a jolly smile, with a glimmer of mischief upon his face, he told her that Lady Ledger planned upon skipping their ball, but received a personal note from the King stating that he would be in attendance. Lord Ledger went on to state his admiration, offered his friendship, and invited her husband to join him on his hunts.

His disposition was the opposite of his wife. It would appear that Lady Allen’s judgment of “poor devil” may have been the truth of the matter. Though at that moment she did not have much time to think on it. Her hosting duties quickly distracted her from the case that was Lord Ledger.

Agatha breathed easier as the guest trickled in one after another. From both sides of the Ton. Thanking God above that the queen had listened to her. Of course getting both sides to attend the first ball of the season, the ball of the season, was only half the battle.

The mood was low. Neither side would interact with one another. Once they had arrived they merely stood there. Huddled together making conversation with their old friends. Whispering to themselves and eyeing the other half or dancing only with partners from their side but making no move to venture out. Making no move to mingle. It might as well be that they were not even attending the same party Princess Augusta and her orchestra as always provided no help.

The dowager princess fanned herself as she looked around the tense room. Her eyes would catch Agatha’s every so often. Narrowing her gaze in disapproval. Lord Buttes' expression was as acerbic as ever. There was no joy in his stiff constitution. Agatha ventured to guess that his face may be permanently stuck in that position for she had not once seen him with so much as a hint of a smile.

The champagne flowed freely, the music played on. She had provided everything she could, but she could not force them to play nice with one another to mingle. To make merry in the revelry as if they were old friends.

The king and queen had arrived late, but they had arrived. Agatha had to thank the lord above for if they had not—she would not think of it. She could not think of it for Lord Ledger was making his over to her. Asking Lord Danbury for her hand for a dance.

Agatha could not recall the last time she had danced with another. Danced at all. Her husband would always complain of a bout of gout or the quality of the music. “What a ghastly noise that fellow makes.” Lord Smthye-Smith at his wife’s urging, who had taken pity upon her when she had seen her staring off wistfully at the couple’s twirling around in front of them, had asked her to join him for a turn once, but Lord Danbury had refused his friend's offer.

He blamed it on the pace of the dance then. “It is far too much exertion for Agatha.” However, her husband would not be able to deny Lord Ledger’s request nor did he want. The man practically jumped at the chance. A grin stretched his umber face. Exposing the cracks in his ashen skin It was on her to turn down the invitation.

Agatha wondered if it was a joke at her expense. Judging by the face Lady Ledger made her mouth drawn in a tight line, icy blue eyes scanning the room before she settled upon throwing glares her way, Lord Ledger’s request was sincere. She reached for his outstretched hand. Letting the lord lead her to join the king and queen on the dance floor.

She did not pay much attention to the song playing. Her mind was distracted with a thousand thoughts floating around. The man who had claimed her hand was chief among them. Perhaps it was wrong, but she could not help comparing Lord Ledger to her husband.

Lord Danbury's hands were always cold when he took them in his for a round. Damp and clammy. Chapped and calloused from poor management and age. His grip would always pinch. He was a rather stiff dancer. Clumsy in his movements it was his croaky voice that made complaints upon her dancing abilities.

Lord Ledger’s hands were warm. They showed signs of age, but they were steady. He glided around the dance floor with ease. His voice was not very deep, but it was soothing as was his smile. Making her cheeks warm ever so slightly with something light turning in the pit of her belly as he complimented her home and person. Everything about him was comforting as she took him in.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your father the other day.” The lord began with after the second turn. Breaking her from her musings with a jolt. Nearly losing her footing at the change in conversation. A lump formed in her throat as she inquired about what might have been said. Dreading the answer.

“I hope he was not too much of a bother my lord.” The years had not softened him quite the contrary. The man for all intents and purposes had become a recluse. With his only child married off, there was no need for him to be out in society. Joseph Robinson was content with his own company. He was not a man who had the ability to converse so easily. All stubbornness. Worse than Lord Danbury.

Her husband would dismiss her suggestions and then employ them without so much as giving Agatha credit for them, but he would listen. With her father, it was his way or none at all. His self-imposed solitude seemed to drive him further into his convictions.

“None at all my lady. Though I admit that he is quite the character.” His chuckle was as easy as his smile, it was meant to be reassuring but Agatha felt a flush. This time with embarrassment rather than those butterflies.

She knew how that conversation went. My daughter is Countess Danbury. He’d make sure to mention that half a dozen times. She is one of the queen's ladies in waiting. Agatha must have taken to biting her lip or staring off for Lord Ledger gave her hand a small squeeze. “He could not stop speaking of you and now I do see why.” Levity returned as did that same fluttering. They danced in silence for the rest of the song.

It was over far too soon. Their guests left with laughter on their tongues and a twinkle in their eyes. Agatha herself felt overjoyed, reeling from the excitement of the evening. The dancing, the champagne which she was allowed a glass, or two of, that buzzing which would not go away, but her elation at their success all ended when Lord Danbury dragged her to his bedroom. She was not the only one who had been left in a state of jubilation. The swell of the night caused for celebration.

Her husband took her from behind with much vigor. Knocking her into the headboard with each thrust no matter what measures she took. Agatha always felt as if she were a mare in that position. Hated being reminded of the fact that she was one, but it had its benefits. It was preferable rather than having to face Lord Danbury. To have him wheezing down upon her and on that occasion, it might have saved her life. Or at least might have saved her from the humiliation of being found crushed half naked underneath his great weight gasping for breath.

For all the doctor's visits at the Danbury residence, save for one, they had missed a more worthy patient. The circus of her womb was no distraction for Lord Danbury’s race against mortality. When it was said and done his quest for legacy had been in vain. He had not lived past three months of gaining his title. With no legitimate heir of his body in sight.

And so Agatha’s marriage to Lord Danbury had ended in the way it was consummated. Staring up at the ceiling as her husband took his rights, hammering at her womb. While she waited for it all to be over. Prayed for it to be with each jab. Only this time, that prayer had been answered with a thump and a smile that would never fade.

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#lord ledger x lady danbury #lady danbury x lord ledger #lord ledger is here🙌🏽#lord ledger #lady danbury and lord ledger #young lady danbury #lady dandury #lady agatha danbury #agatha danbury #bridgerton fandom #queen charlotte a bridgerton story fanfic #queen charlotte: a bridgerton story fanfic #bridgerton fic #my bridgerton fic #bnbridgertonfics

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whinlatter · 2 years ago

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author's note | chapter 5: the flock 🌊

here is the author's note for chapter five of Beasts! this week, the tide's rolling in on the greyback hearings, the press are determined to rock the boat, harry and ginny head for the (metaphorical) lifeboats, and madam pince is officially sick of ginny weasley's shit. all the usual behind the scenes writing notes, headcanons, fic and meta inspo and song choices below, plus a tiny sneak peek of chapter six... 🗞️

✨ spoilers for this chapter below the cut ✨

[ flock, n.: a number of birds of one kind feeding, resting, or travelling together ]

writing notes and headcanons:

the hearings – this chapter sees ginny forced to zoom out from her own (real) problems and start to confront developments beyond the castles: the trials/hearings, a broader politics and set of questions about justice and inclusions/exclusions from wizarding society, and the role of the media in that society’s political and cultural life. i wanted this chapter to feel like a wave building and building and breaking - narratively, i wanted a false break, with harry and ginny’s reunion, and the actual breaking to be with bill’s speech at the end (jury’s out on that one - also just made the chapter extremely long and a bit top heavy, which i might prune in an edit). but i was so excited to start writing this dimension to the fic more explicitly, because i’m really interested in taking up questions about the kinds of evil and darkness that linger after voldemort’s end, and how wizarding institutions do or don’t confront their own role in furthering kinds of societal divisions and discrimination that helped pre-dated voldemort and have survived him. it’s not that ginny’s personal problems aren’t valid or real, but that what i hoped for in this chapter is to take a step back and put what ginny’s going through into a broader context of a whole society coming to a reckoning.

the wireless – i’ve taken some creative liberties on the wireless, as we don’t really know how it works (this pottermore page on technology was far more frustrating than it was helpful lmao - if muggle wirelesses have been ‘modified’, are they still running on the same kinds of (muggle) technology, or on magic? how do they work!!!). i decided static must still exist lol, to add to this sensory experience of irritating omnipresent noise ginny experiences throughout this chapter. the lil opener about the shipping forecast i’m so attached to is a bit of a love letter to this very strange british radio tradition (i really recommend listening to a sample one, they’re so charming), but i liked it also as a window onto a possible touchpoint between muggle and wizarding society that the wireless itself symbolises. young ginny’s question to arthur about sea monsters causing waves, and arthur’s response (“there doesn’t always have to be a monster, you know. Sometimes, there are other things to worry about”) is me trying to play with ideas about wizarding hubris that young witches and wizards internalise but which prevent wizarding society from seeing its own blindspots and points of ignorance. also the shipping forecast is foreshadowing for the rest of the chapter lol (forth is the oceanic region nearest hogwarts; lundy is the region nearest cornwall, where bill’s from. don’t worry i think i’m obnoxious too)

on bill weasley – bill is probably my favourite weasley after ron and ginny. he could be a really nothing character, but instead he’s quietly a really strong and reassuring presence who is clearly widely admired and who has these really loving close relationships with other great characters. he’s empathetic and highly observant, he’s got a sense of humour but also knows when to be serious, and he takes his responsibilities to his parents and to his siblings very seriously. but he’s also got this other streak - ginny think it’s him being drawn to ‘glamour’ and ‘adventure’, but i see it more as him having a bit of a capacity to surprise, an edge, a real audacity, strong sense of self, and a belief in his own convictions. that neither bill nor charlie followed arthur into the ministry is i think very revealing of how the weasley siblings grow up seeing through the political institutions of their world (and what makes percy’s arc all the more heartbreaking).

bill and remus – this is such a personal obsession of mine lol, being a big fan of both bill and remus as characters in their own right, but i think bill and remus’ interactions in canon are small but really meaningful, and speak to two characters bound together in some way, even before bill’s attack. obviously they’re both young(ish) men in the order, reasonably close in age (at least, less than the age gap between remus and dora), and they both often play similar roles within the larger group of resistance fighter, including as peacemakers (to molly in ootp over percy, and to ginny in DH during the evacuation), and sage guides to the younger ones (remus examples too many to name, but on bill i’m thinking of him advising harry in pre-gringotts, sheltering ron after his desertion). they also, canonically, both have an interest in these questions about politics, beings and beasts the place of other species in the wizarding world, actually discussing the goblin Q together with arthur in ootp (remus on goblins: “if they’re offered freedoms we’ve been denying them for centuries they’re going to be tempted [by Voldemort]”) then, of course, after bill’s attack, remus is both a source of information and experience in the immediate aftermath, and has previously shown an interest in comforting victims of werewolf attacks and other wereolves (ootp in st mungo’s). i think they also have a mutual respect and quite a warm friendship, only glimpsed very briefly through harry’s narration. when mad-eye is killed during the seven potters rescue, it’s remus who consoles a crying bill at the burrow (‘Bill’s voice broke. “Of course you couldn’t have done anything,” said Lupin.’) remus knows bill is upset and offers to recover mad-eye’s body with kingsley to spare bill the task, but bill is insistent he wants to go, and the two of them agree to set off alone together. bill also seems to know about remus trying to leave tonks, and knows when they’ve reconciled: ron passes the info on to the trio through bill. then ofc when teddy is born, remus and bill have that lovely moment where bill’s trying to get him drunk to toast to his son’s birth when remus is absolutely elated. i think remus’ experience as a fellow victim of greyback, their age gap and remus’ credentials as a young man who fought in the first war would mean bill would both look up to remus a great deal and would motivate him to do right by remus in death.

bill and ginny – ginny’s admiration, even reverence, for bill, comes through so strongly in canon (harry even seems faintly amused by it, as it borders on hero-worship - “Bill doesn’t like him either,” said Ginny, as though that settled the matter, in OotP). i think if fleur had been with any other of her brothers, ginny might have taken her arrival better. little ginny wants to be charlie, but she also really admires bill and will follow where he leads (👀). bill sticking his neck out will (we’ll see) have big consequences for his family and for ginny. all i’ll say for now is that i think it means a lot that ginny spends this chapter trying to shield bill from the horrors of the greyback hearings, and then he takes her surprise and walks straight into the fire.

on the montgomery family - i wrote much longer versions of all the testimonies drawn from canon here (the montgomery family, parvati on lavender, bill on remus and his own attack). The montgomery family only get a brief mention in HBP, the two sisters whose little brother died after being attacked by greyback, and writing from the perspective from the parents of that child was honestly horrendous. i had to cut a lot of it down because it was just actually horrific and much too sad, too early in the chapter. but yeah sorry writing this chapter really made me realise how fucking awful the greyback stuff is. truly truly not children’s book shit lol

on parvati and lavender - i wanted parvati’s testimony about lavender to address the severity of her injuries after the attack, but it was also important to use this speech as a chance to explore how this friendship feels for those two characters. Harry’s narration is that of a teenage boy - he’s friendly with them both, but not close, probably has a bit more time for parvati than lavender, and he’s largely uninterested in both girls’ inner lives (and tends to dismissive them as silly, girlish and giggly). so it seemed important to explore their friendship as something rich and meaningful, and to put forward a version of lavender that, while shaded by her canon appearances, gives her a more well-rounded and kinder character assessment than the narration in canon ever affords her. hermione looking up to the dormitory steps as she listens to them, ginny and luna holding hands during - girls processing their friendships 2k23 babyyy

on hermione and ginny – as discussed in the last author’s note, this is me playing with how to write conflict between two female characters that’s true to their characterisation and their relationship’s dynamics, but that also has them both coming from a reasonable and understandable place but both exhibiting unhealthy coping mechanisms. ginny is avoidant, using humour, denial and distractions, and fiercely protective of the other gryffindors, trying to shelter them from exposure to too many emotional triggers. without spoiling anything, hermione has a different perspective; she wants all the information possible, she’s very interested in these questions of how this society will or won’t change, and the prospect of reform (she also, of course, has had her own traumatising run-ins with greyback), but, as ginny, harry and ron can all see, she’s not taking care of herself - she’s not allowing her any respite from the traumatising news cycle, and she’s also clearly showing signs of distress, isolation and PTSD, particularly the absence of harry and ron (especially ron, our real hero in this chap). i’ve found it so fun but challenging to write ginny’s pov when personally i’d probably be much more like hermione (want to know everything and obsessively follow the news lol). i really care about trying to write this arc in a way that feels fair to both characters.

on harry and ginny – i finally let them kiss ok!!! and i even gave harry a semi (sorry). those two just write themselves. it was very very important for me in this chapter to have the two of them thinking together about the world around them, as well as providing each other with forms of emotional support that are valuable to each of them (quiet, careful, lots of physical contact, not overstepping or overreaching, balanced out by laughter). ginny is better practiced at this: harry is still learning, though he’s getting there. what i hope i’m starting to show is how these two people go from teenage sweethearts to two people in a marriage and a partnership. (also how do you know ginny’s in the grounds a lot in the mornings harry??? hmmmmmm???) also harry potter loves the sea it’s canon and he also has no chill and definitely would pick out a little seaside house for them both tomorrow if ginny let him. love u hjp miss writing your narration where i could take for granted that you’re very selectively observant and have you slowly realise things. ginny is too observant i have to work much harder to cultivate her ignorance lol

on ron and ginny – i really feel like you can tell in their parting conversation that i’ve been binging succession lately. the surprise at ‘love you’ is pure roy siblings without any of the you know, deeply-fucked-up-ness

on st andrews/anstruther/scottish coastal destinations – how does ginny know these places, indeed? a story for another time… (we’ll get there)

on arnold – ok confession time: i forgot about arnold when i mapped out this fic. wrote a ginny pov fic about magical beasts and forgot her literal pet. in my defence, on my re-reads i was always just thinking like, what is the point of arnold. also what tf happens to arnold. is arnold one of the fallen fifty? we do not know. (...) at a certain point, though, i realised that arnold is just like, a dumb fun pet an adolescent girl gets to play with, and that’s kind of the point. joy is worth something in its own right. so having remembered he exists in canon lol and had that realisation, i’m happy with how he’s ended up in this fic finally lmao. the story of his handover is still to come, but for now just to say i really like the idea of little bea taking ownership of ginny’s pet, this symbol of innocence and fun and happy girlhood.

on chapter titles – this one is for my jonathan livingstone seagull fans (👀 again…)

reading list:

on bill weasley:

up and down and barely made it over by cosmicwritings

Harbor by @greenhousethree

on postwar justice and trials:

castles by @pebblysand

on the sea:

Harry and Ginny at Shell Cottage (meta)

on neville and ginny's friendship:

Ginny and Neville: A Friendship Forged in Fire (meta) by @greenhousethree

on lupin among the werewolves:

It's Just What You Do To Get By by @evesaintyves

songs for this chapter from the playlist:

to anyone who has reached out to tell me they’ve been listening to the playlist - you are all the loves of my life and i could kiss you. i spend an indecent amount of time picking songs out for that damn playlist, and i really used this week’s to get me into the zone for writing different sections, so feel very attached to this chapter's song choices (also it includes one of my all-time favourite songs, nobody else will be there, by the national, which is an immaculate and underrated hinny anthem and maybe my favourite love song in the world)...

and a tiny sneak peek of chapter six... ❓❔⁉️

MEET THE WEASLEYS: THE WIZARDING WORLD’S MOST OUTSPOKEN - AND CONTROVERSIAL - FAMILY William ‘Bill’ Weasley may have made headlines after his recent pro-werewolf testimony before the Wizengamot. But Bill’s not the only Weasley unafraid to ruffle some feathers. Get to know the notorious family who are no stranger to scandal, with the Daily Prophet’s handy pull-out guide, Which Weasley?

#beasts #author's note #spoilers #fic rec #alexa play press by cardi b

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erasure-picnic · 11 months ago

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In honour of both Black History Month and the UK’s LGBT+ History Month, let’s shine a spotlight on a key figure in Erasure’s brilliant stage shows - Les Child!

Child has had a prolific and storied career, working as a dancer, choreographer, and innovator in the arts. He danced with several groundbreaking troupes throughout the ‘70s and 80s, and also founded some of his own–including House of Child, the UK’s first voguing group. In the ‘80s, he branched out into choreography for music videos, which brought him into pop star circles, and at the dawn of the ‘90s, he set his sights on live tours.

According to his CV on HeadNod Agency, the first tour Child ever choreographed was Erasure’s Wild! Tour (1989-1990). Child was fond of Erasure’s music, and told Private Ear in 1992 that “it makes life a lot easier when it comes to choreographing a show if you enjoy the music”. He would go on to do the choreography for The Tank, the Swan, and the Balloon (1992), Cowboy (1996-1997), and The Erasure Show (2005). Indeed, Child seems to have choreographed more tours for Erasure than for any other band or artist. He also starred in Erasure’s short film “Dr. Jekyll and Mistress Hyde” (2003), and forged an enduring friendship with Andy Bell.

Child’s work with Erasure is really special to me. His choreography is undeniably dazzling on its own, and the dancers deliver it with athleticism and aplomb. But I’d also argue that it adds to the music, making it even better. My favourite example is “Love to Hate You” from The Tank. In this performance--which Bell introduces as “the gayest of gay tangos”--two pairs grace the stage: one male-male, one female-female. By the end of the song, they’ve swapped partners multiple times. (Check out video 1 and video 2 to see this in action.) When I first saw this, I was charmed. It was unexpected, yet it seemed natural: a nod to the sexual fluidity that runs through Erasure’s music and art. I feel that Child truly got Erasure, knew what made them “them”, and made it sparkle.

SOURCES: Cover image and CV from Les Child’s page on HeadNod Agency (headnodagency.com). “Ear to the Ground”. Private Ear, Issue 11 (1992). Retrieved via a capture of the official Erasure website (Internet Archive). December 4, 2004. “Erasure - Dr Jekyll and Mistress Hyde (Directed By Vince Clarke)”. Original video from Erasure (Mute Records), 2003. Uploaded by Erasure Música y Amigos, retrieved via YouTube. “Life Drawing with Sue Tilley featuring Les Child as model and muse.” Uploaded by Sue Tilley, retrieved via YouTube, November 27, 2021. Staples, L. “From leather daddies to ‘Drag race’, dissecting the revolutionary history of the queer aesthetic.” British Vogue. July 24, 2021.

#erasure #erasure band #les child

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justforbooks · 1 year ago

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Terry Pratchett fans Pat and Jan Harkin unearthed a whimsical collection of lost Terry Pratchett stories and they reveal the secrets behind their discovery.

Terry Pratchett fans may have been devastated when a hard drive of his unfinished, unpublished works was crushed by a six-and-a-half tonne steamroller in 2017, as per the late author’s instructions. Pratchett did not want his unpublished works to be finished by someone else and then released. But to any fans still reeling from the loss of the beloved fantasy novelist’s creative output, hope is on the horizon: lost stories published under a pseudonym early in his career have been rediscovered.

It is a happy accident that retired couple Pat and Jan Harkin came across a treasure trove of Terry Pratchett stories in 2022. The pair were on the hunt for “The Quest for the Keys”, a story that fan Chris Lawrence had saved from his childhood. Clues were limited: Lawrence had saved neatly trimmed newspaper clippings which were missing dates. All they knew was that the story was from roughly 50 years ago (around 1972), having possibly appeared in the Western Daily Press.

And so a trip back in time began. The time machine they used was the British Newspaper Archive in Boston Spa. Over the course of around 16 trips to the library, the Harkins meticulously searched through thousands of issues of local newspapers to try and find “The Quest for the Keys” in its original form.

They established a timeframe for the search: 1970 to 1983. The story featured a city called Morpork, similar to Ankh-Morpork, a city that features prominently in the Discworld novels. The Harkins suspected that it was unlikely Pratchett would reuse the same name in a short story after the publication of his Discworld work, so they figured that the story was most likely published before his first Discworld novel The Colour of Magic was published in 1983.

As it turned out, the story was actually published in 1984—the Harkins had to slog through over a decade’s worth of newspapers to find it. This miscalculation was, however, a stroke of luck, because hidden in these archives were a selection of stories even Pratchett’s agent and former publisher Colin Smythe did not know about.

Pat and Jan joke that their background in medicine served as training for this project. “We know well the importance of conducting meticulous research—and keeping a record of it,” Jan comments. Their dive into archives was thorough and methodical, and the rewards were rich.

Pat and Jan realised they had struck gold when they came across a story called “Blackbury Weather”. The name Blackbury rang a bell as it is the setting for Pratchett’s Johnny Maxwell trilogy. But strangely, the byline was Patrick Kearns.

“We weren’t sure what to think at first,” Jan says. “We obviously had read a lot of Terry’s work and recognised the style, but we aren’t literary experts. We weren’t sure if Patrick Kearns was a real, separate person. We sent the stories to Colin and it was really exciting when he came back and said, ‘This is Terry.’”

“Patrick is vaguely like Pratchett and Kearns was Terry’s maternal grandmother’s maiden name. So we had found a pseudonym,” adds Pat.

Could there be more stories out there? “I would say I don’t think there are any more, but then that’s what I would have said if you asked me a year ago, before we found these ones,” Jan says. “We don’t know if any more stories will turn up. But we’re really pleased that these have come through, and hopefully people are going to have a lot of fun reading them.”

In the collection’s introduction, Pratchett’s long-time collaborator Neil Gaiman remarks on the late fantasy writer’s semi-mythical status among fans. What was the man behind the magical writing really like?

Pat and Jan got to know Pratchett quite well after meeting him at various conventions. In fact, the inventive author would often call Pat up with strange questions like, “How much earwax do you produce in a lifetime?” (About an egg-cupful, since you ask!) Or “Can you get hold of some arsenic for me?” If you didn’t know he was a writer, you might find these queries quite suspicious!

But according to Pat, the big thing about Terry was that he was really interested in people. “He liked nothing better than to sit and talk to them,” Pat says. “I asked him once, if he hadn’t sat in all those signing queues, just writing his name over and over, how many Discworld novels would there be? And he said, ‘I think there would probably be about half as many.’”

Jan adds, “I agree with Neil’s take on Terry. He was a human being, it’s difficult to say that somebody’s happy and jolly all the time, because they’re not. But he was very stimulating company over a dinner table. He was great fun. And he had a mind like a vacuum cleaner—anything that you said could be taken away and digested and thought about, and then maybe even put in a book somewhere.”

The result of the Harkins’ efforts is a collection of whimsical, amusing tales about cavemen inventing cooking, the real wild west of the English-Welsh border and Father Christmas trying a career change for better pension prospects, to name just a few.

Fans will recognise elements of Pratchett’s signature style, including footnotes with humorous comments and cultural references (such as the Lone Crofter in “The Real Wild West”, as opposed to the Lone Ranger), as well as names that cropped up in Pratchett’s later work, like the aforementioned town of Blackbury. The collection closes with the story that started it all, “The Quest for the Keys”, a tale set long ago when “dragons still existed and the only arcade game was ping-pong in black and white”.

But who knows, maybe there are more of Terry Pratchett’s stories out there, just waiting to be found.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #terry pratchett #book review

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