#works vice versa as well but I make fun of Arthur enough man I can’t keep doing this

[froggi-mushroom]

Meant to post this yesterday but

Nyo England pointing at Portugal: he’s cute!

Nyo Portugal looking at Portugal, who looks like he hasn’t brushed his hair once in his entire life:

[wisteria-lodge]

Archetypes: Sorting Hat Chats

I’ve been asked about my rationale for naming different primary/ secondary combinations. I did this originally as a tool to help me sort characters - I wanted to see how these types tend to be used, so I could more easily see what subversions looked like. I'll run through my thoughts, but know there’s a lot of variation within each category. But even WITH that variation, I do think that each one has its own specific energy that makes it interesting to talk about. An explanation of the terms I'm using.

DOUBLE LION “THE REVOLUTIONARY”

Pretty straightforward. The Lion primary knows something is wrong, they know it in their bones even if they can’t articulate it, and they’ve got to go out and do something about it. Probably charging at whatever power structure is directly in front of them. It’s unlikely you find a character leading a revolution who isn’t a Double Lion. These guys are intense, inspirational, single minded.

The villain version of the Lion primary tends to be the person who “went too far" or "became the monster they were trying to fight.'' But I think that the much more interesting Lion primary villain trope is the Traitor. Since Lions work from their feelings, and their philosophies can’t necessarily be articulated or linked to individuals outside of them - they can definitely have their head turned while still feeling moral about it.

One of my favorite examples of this Revolutionary archtype is actually Christian Bale‘s character from Newsies. He’s the spark that starts the unionizing revolution, but 100% needs his Badger and Bird lieutenants to keep him focused and keep him from defecting

LION SNAKE “THE ROBIN HOOD”

These guys are similar to the Double Lion - they will recognize a cause or injustice revolutionary style - but Robin Hood doesn’t go up and bang on wicked Prince John’s door. His move is the snake secondary one: confront the problem indirectly. Undermine the regime by stealing tax money and re-distributing it to the poor. Be simultaneously Robin Hood the outlaw and Robin of Locksley the noble, infiltrating and getting information. The Lion Snake is more likely to work within society (or deliberately separate from society) versus just breaking everything down.

LION BIRD “THE LAWMAN / THE VIGILANTE”

The fact that the Lion Bird can either be the Lawman or the Vigilante shows off the very clear hero/villain split you get with Bird secondaries. We also see this with the Snake Bird (simultaneously the Mastermind and the traditional Villain) and the Double Bird (either the Scientist or the Mad Scientist.) This is why I think I had such trouble naming the Badger Bird. I wasn’t leaning into the duality of the Bird secondary enough. The Badger Bird can be the King Arthur, or he can be the Mob Boss, and he’ll look kind of similar either way.

The Lion Bird also has that Lion primary conviction and drive, but they want to follow up on it with investigation, evidence, and plans. I actually think there need to be more stories about Lawmen turning into Vigilantes and vice versa. Because Lion Birds are their Cause no matter what external alignment gets attached to it.

LION BADGER “THE LINCHPIN”

This is my own sorting - although when I came up with this name I still thought I was a Double Bird. The linchpin is the pin-axle thing at the center of a wheel that prevents the whole thing from falling apart, and I think it's a good way of talking about the energy of this combination. The Badger secondary means they’re a lot less single minded than the other Lion primaries: their power comes from being part of a group. They become the emotional “heart” a lot, and have a way of quietly keeping things together just by existing. They can be leaders, but a Double Lion will lead from up front while a Lion Badger will lead from in the middle (if that makes sense.)

I do think it’s really funny that this is a common sleeper villain trope. Peter Pettigrew, Prince Hans, and Randall Boggs of Monsters Inc. all became integral to a group, and then exploit their position within it. They’re kind of the evil bureaucrat. Maybe that's a good trope for children’s media

DOUBLE SNAKE “THE TRICKSTER”

This is another straightforward one. Double Snakes are in it for themselves (and maybe like three other people.) They're going to be clever and tricksy about how they get what they want, and will not mind doing things backward and unofficially. And they won't mind if you know that's what they're doing. There’s something very unapologetic about the Double Snake which makes for very attractive characters. They are consistently voted the sexiest... and when they’re villains they’re fun villains. You know what they want, and what they want is not that complicated. I think that’s a big reason for the appeal of Snake primaries in general. They’re the easiest primary to understand and explain.

SNAKE LION “THE LANCELOT”

I used to call these guys “The Rebel,” which... is too generic, doesn’t really mean anything. So I started thinking about the Lion secondary as the Knight secondary, and I liked that. Double Lions are the Crusader Knight, riding for their Cause. Bird Lions are Grail Knights, riding for their own personal truth. Badger Lions are Champion Knights, here to help the helpless and defend the innocent.

And if that's that case… Snake Lions have to be the Knight Errant, the knight who rides for his lady. It is that simple. Lancelot might be a Knight of the Round Table, but he’s riding for Arthur the person, not Arthur the King. And for his lady, Queen Guinevere. I feel like his dilemma is one that’s common to a lot of Snake Lions: what happens when they’re forced to split their loyalty? It’s tragic, but Lancelot can’t have Arthur and Guinevere simultaneously.

(At least not until my awesome Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot OT3 which I will totally write at some point :)

SNAKE BIRD “THE MASTERMIND / THE VILLAIN”

The classic. We see a little more of the Bird Secondary split, and well… this is your stereotypical villain. They want power. They’re going to use an elaborate plan to get it. There’s a lot you can do with this sorting, but I actually do think it’s fun that whatever you do, this slight undercurrent of villain and/or mastermind… never quite goes away.

SNAKE BADGER “THE LOVER”

The Love Interest sorting. Chances are very good that if there is a love interest (who does not serve some other role in the story...) they're going to be a Snake Badger. Devoted to one person, solving problems by caretaking. This is the Badger secondary who is likely to have the smallest group, which is just going to make them look excessively devoted to their friends. This type is pretty gender neutral, which is fun. A lot of female love interests, but also your Mr. Darcys and Peeta Mellarks.

One of my favorite things about this trope (mostly just because I think it’s funny...) is that if you write a character who is not supposed to be a love interest, but who is a Snake Badger... subconsciously I think people are going to read them as a love interest anyway. Looking at you Jaskier, Horatio, and even Captain Barbossa.

DOUBLE BIRD “THE [MAD] SCIENTIST”

I think that (especially if you aren’t a Bird Primary yourself) your response to hearing a fictional Bird Primary’s motivation is kind of …huh. That seems random. Or oddly specific. You get your Hannibal Lecters, whose entire motivation is... wanting to eat people while drinking nice wine.

Double birds seem especially unusual, just in terms of society. They are Bird secondaries and they interact with the world through gathering data, but their Bird primaries mean that data can literally lead them to any conclusion, no matter how potentially wacky. These guys consciously build themselves from the ground up, and that can make them kind of detached - either in a logical way, or an unmoored way. They're written as either really stable, the rational mentor figure. Or really... not. And that’s how you spot a Bird villain. They’re not after money/power/safety, they’re after something weird.

BIRD LION “THE GRAIL KNIGHT”

This is the trope of Perceval or Galahad, questing after the Holy Grail chalice... which is really just meaning, and truth. It’s a personal quest. Grail Knights tend to ride alone, and a lot of the things that concern them are metaphysical, to do with identity, purpose, things like that. You can have extremely different Bird Lions, but I do think there is a sort of spiritual core there. Doctor Harleen Quinzel sees freedom and truth in whatever the Joker is doing, and then once she recognizes his hypocrisy, has to go build her own meaning.

I actually think these guys are pretty easy to spot because of that Lion secondary. When they change direction, they change direction, and there’s probably a period of despair between the direction changes. I’ve talked about how Bird Lions having a habit of falling apart pretty dramatically, and that’s where this idea comes from.

BIRD BADGER “THE SURVIVOR”

A rare sorting, but an interesting one. I call this one “the Survivor” or “the Last Man Standing” because, well, they seem to be. They seem remarkably stable. This is the Bird primary least likely to be a villain, and maybe the sorting least likely to be a villain. I think what’s going on is that they are grounded and integrated in whatever community they happen to be in (because of that Badger secondary), but they can define themselves and rebuild themselves in the Bird primary way. This makes them uniquely suited to building a new version of themselves for whatever situation they happen to find themselves in.

Maybe a better name for these guys would be “The Adapter.”

BIRD SNAKE “THE ARTIST”

Like all Bird primaries, these guys are inspired by their own projects and their own worldview, but because of that Snake secondary, Bird Snakes have a more easy-going ‘take the world as it comes' kind of energy. They are “the Artist” because everything they do is art: they want to use themselves and the world around them, put all of that towards whatever their Bird primary happens to be interested in.

You can have villains like the Nolan Joker, or the Talented Mr. Ripley, who kind of turn the world into their own personal philosophical social experiment. Or Scotty from Star Trek whose meaning is solely the well-being of the Enterprise. Maybe they just like traveling, and that's all they need. (It's a way for the Bird primary and the Snake secondary exist very happily together, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was pretty common.)

DOUBLE BADGER “THE PEACEMAKER”

Badgers are interesting, because while I think they’re generally regarded as “correct,” they’re also seen as kind of boring. That’s the case with both Badger primaries and Badger secondaries, which means it is doubly reflected in the Double Badger. They often get written as simplistic, the sweet Jane Bennet type who loves everybody and caretakes everybody and just wants everybody to get along.

They are often the targets of what TV Tropes used to call “Break the Cutie.” What could be more interesting than making this character, who wants to be happily part of a community, be forced to build protective models, be all tortured and angsty? I actually think we’re seeing a return of the Double Badger as an interesting character in their own right, with people like Aziaphale, and I'm here for it.

BADGER LION “THE PROTAGONIST”

What can I say? There are a lot of protagonists that are Badger Lions. They want to help the group - so we know they're the good guys - and then they charge and make stuff happen. Lion secondaries are very useful in fiction - you drop them into a situation and stuff just happens. I also think of this as the Starfleet officer sorting - because if you’re a Starfleet officer, either you are the sorting, or can model it really well.

I will say that this is kind of the stock Protagonist sorting, the way that the Snake Badger is the stock love interest and the Snake Bird is the stock villain. There’s just something sort of generic good guy about this one, which is why I want to see it used as a villain sorting more. Badger villains - mostly people who define ‘human’ very narrowly - are insanely terrifying.

BADGER SNAKE “THE ADVISOR”

Possibly “the Power Behind the Throne.” This is another one I had difficulty pinning down. I called it “the Politician” for a while, which unfortunately came off as a little bit more negative than I meant it to, since I think this sorting has a lot in common with Lion Badger, the linchpin of a heroic team. The difference is that Lion Badger takes on that role kind of unconsciously, while the Badger Snake does it very consciously.

Their loyalty is to the group, but their skill set is all about subversion and different ways of going around the group, which is why there’s an interesting contradiction at the heart of Badger Snake. A lot of real life Badger Snakes struggle with feeling like “bad people" and it's too bad. These guys are ridiculously powerful and competent when they are sure of themselves, and I love seeing them in action

BADGER BIRD “THE KING / THE MOB BOSS”

Another difficult one, despite (or because) I really like them. I was calling them “the Architect” because “The City Planner” sounded too boring… but that’s what they do. They’re all about the community but they problem-solve the way all Bird secondaries do, by prepping, and gathering knowledge. I talked more about this in the Lion Bird entry, but Bird secondary seems to have this villain split going on, and that’s what I see here too. This is a controversial love-them-or-hate-them sorting, and I think that’s why. There’s a lot of room in whether or not you see this sorting as villainous.

[mxpseudonym]

Just Good Business II

Pairing: Tommy x Reader

Reader Gender Expression: She/Her pronouns, "wife”

Summary: After your arranged marriage with Tommy Shelby, Tommy is MIA while you become one of the Shelby’s

Length: 1549 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Overtones of forced/arranged marriage, otherwise strong “My husband is clueless” vibes

A/N: Part III is very likely!

Part I | Part III

--

As far as things that sounded interesting went, marriage wasn't one of them. Sure, the lead up was fun enough, but a wedding wasn't a marriage, that was for sure. Your first few months with Tommy only confirmed it. 

You'd consummated your marriage on your wedding night, and even once more, when you decided that sharing the master bedroom was a must. But after that, Tommy was always gone. Over three months, you could count the number of times Tommy came to bed on two hands, and the times you actually woke up next to him on one. If he wasn't in London or Birmingham, which was nearly always, he was locked away in the home office. More than upset, though, it made you curious.

"He does everything on his own, for better or worse," Polly said when you got the Shelby women together for tea.

"Head as hard as a rock," Ada tsked Tommy, who wasn't there to defend himself. 

In Tommy's absence, you found yourself getting to know the rest of the Shelby's. It wasn't just relocating from many of your friends and your dubious relationship with your own family that made you cling to them. On occasion, when they allowed themselves to be, the Shelby’s were a lot of fun. 

"I can't!" You jumped back from the horse troughs and the goldfish swimming inside with a laugh. 

"Stop being a scaredy-cat, y/n," Finn teased, expertly picking up a fish with his bare hands. "You can't even touch one." 

"Lady's aren't used to slummin' it, Finn," Isaiah said, nudging his friend with his elbow. Along with meeting Ada for talks about politics and occasionally drinking John under the table, you'd gotten into the habit of throwing big picnics for your new nieces and nephews birthdays. John's small army allowed for two in a month, but that didn't stop you from rallying the troops. Between getting to frolic around the gardens barefoot and teaching the children how to catch fireflies, this was your favorite part about being married. Fish, however, was where your steady nerve stalled a bit.

"It's not too bad, sister," Arthur urged you. Tommy's older brother was sweeter than you imagined. You weren't a fool, you'd asked about the Peaky Blinders during your London escapades. Arthur being comparable to a rabid dog was amongst the rumors. But here he was, kneeling by the troughs and guiding your hand into the paths of goldfish. 

"You're okay. Just take a deep breath," Arthur said when you almost pulled away. The soft scales brushed against your fingertips making you shiver, but Finn and Isaiah's cheers of encouragement kept you going until you did it yourself. Arthur cleared his throat while you tried cupping your palms around one. 

"How's my brother treatin' you?" he asked.

"I don't see him much, but pretty well, I suppose. Big house, lovely new brothers, who's to complain?" You shrugged. 

"If Tommy gives you any trouble, you let us know," Finn said, high fiving Isaiah, who was shaking his head.

"Alright, simmer down, Finn," Arthur murmured, then turned back to you. "He's right, though. We'll talk sense into Tommy."

"Not that you can't do it on your own, Mrs. Shelby. The way Tommy talks about you, I bet you're keeping him in line," Isaiah joked. Arthur gave him a warning look while you raised an eyebrow. How did Tommy talk about you?

"Aunt y/n!" Katie came running around the corner, stopping any questions you may have had.

"Hello, birthday girl!" You hugged her when she was close enough. She really was a spitting image of John. 

"Can we eat cake?" She asked. 

"Yes, we can eat cake." 

The cake was eaten, gifts were opened, and Ada had just joined the children in a game of tag when Francis, the head of the house staff, came to you with word that your husband was home. 

People of habit always stay that way, so finding Tommy in his office was easy. Tommy was just about to pour a glass of whiskey when you entered after a brief knock. 

"You know, knocking doesn't mean you can just enter," Tommy said, looking over your birthday attire. It included a flower crown from Katie and no stockings. 

"Oh? What does it mean, then, Thomas?" You asked with more snap than expected. You did actually tell him about the birthdays. Whether or not he showed up was dependent on the stars aligning. He sat down the glass and turned to you with a sigh. 

"Alright, have at it. Go on and tell me your grievances."

There were so many things to say, you hardly knew which to choose first. Where the hell have you been? Where do you get off not greeting anyone in the house before hiding away? Are your manners lost somewhere alongside your damn mind leading to such a greeting? But the bridge of his nose was pinched between his thumb and forefinger, so you weighed your options and chose the most important one.

"Did you wish Katie a happy birthday?" You asked. He wasn't expecting that, you could tell. 

"No, not yet."

"Come on, then." You walked to the door and held it open until he walked out first. Seeing Tommy kiss Katie's cheek and slip her a coin was satisfactory enough, so you quickly got swept into the shenanigans going on by the gramophone. Polly told you that you looked wilder that day, and like one of the family. She also mentioned on her way out that Tommy stayed for a bit and could hardly take his eyes off of you while you danced with the kids. 

"Polly," you warned. The all-knowing matriarch put her hands up as a white flag.

"There are worse things than your husband loving you and vice versa," Polly said, ever so sly.

Love? After washing up, you thought about what she said while browsing the downstairs library. Of course, there was nothing wrong with loving your spouse, some would even say it was preferred. Even if one of you had something to confess, what did it matter?

"I'm sure you have some things to say to me," Tommy's voice broke through your thoughts and gave you a start.

"Fucking hell!"

"I did knock," he said, smirking a little. You looked over the robe and slippers you'd gotten him, knowing it made him feel too posh but not being able to resist a bit of teasing in retaliation for being ignored. 

"It's alright, I was just grabbing a book." You picked one up and walked towards him. "All I have to say is I don't like the way you talked to me earlier. I don't care how stressed you are." 

"I'm sorry," he apologized with no hesitation. You nodded and went to leave, only for Tommy to stop you. He pulled you back, his hands on your waist. Nothing prepared you for your husband wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his cheek against your belly. You slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

"Are you alright? Has something happened?" 

"I've got blood on my hands, y/n. Done things I'm not proud of," he murmured. You could only just make out what he was saying. "And I don't stop. I want you to be angry with me for bringing you along with this and putting you up in my house then leaving you alone. Talking to you how I did and putting you and everyone in danger." After a moment, you let out a chuckle.

"Thomas, what the fuck are you talking about?" You couldn't help it really, even when you looked down to see those distressed blue eyes. You pressed the back of your hand on his cheeks and forehead. "Are you ill, Sir?"

"I'm not. I mean it y/n, you've no idea what's gone on." Tommy shook his head and rested it on your stomach again. You scoffed at the man. 

"First of all, you haven't put me up in your house, you've put me up in my house, remember? I just let you live here sometimes," you reminded him of whose name was on the deed. It was for the sake of business, but it was also a gift. Tommy let the corner of his mouth tug up a bit. 

"Second, if you think your wife is dense, think again. Did you think I wouldn't do a bit of research? Ask around? I don't just sit around all day, Polly does like to keep me active, Tom. Plus, one of my mates works at that rum bakery, you think I don't keep tabs on you?" You gave him a knowing look. If you could catch him before he was out the door, you'd have already given him a lecture on getting involved with Alfie Solomons. 

"Ah," Tommy hummed. "That's why you told me to tighten up on security."

"Mmhm. Third of all," you grasped Tommy's face and made him look at you. "When I agreed to marry you, did I ask you where your hands have been?"

"No." 

"No." You shook your head. "And maybe that's my burden to bear, but I'll always look out for myself, don't worry. And I'm not scared of blood, Mr. Shelby." You leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

"Clever, bloody woman," Tommy murmured. 

"The cleverest," You agreed.

--

Tommy Tag List: @soleil-dor

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 28

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 26: Mosley’s plan is unveiled and Tommy warns Ella and Alfie. 

         Ella wasn’t sure how long she waited, curled up on the grass. But she sat up eventually to decipher what was going on. She saw a figure approaching her, framed by the headlights.

        “C’mon. We need you inside.” Tommy spoke steadily but urgently. He helped his sister up.

        She was shaking and pressing a hand to her stomach, right over where her scar lingered. “What happened?”

        “Pol shot Linda.” He answered and walked her inside.

        Luckily, Linda was out cold by the time Ella came inside. “Can’t we just have one night without this shit?” She muttered under her breath. Standing in the doorway of the dining room, she watched Arthur sit beside his wife. He was shaking and almost in tears.

        “Apparently not,” Tommy replied with a weary sigh.      

        “Did I hear a gunshot or is Swan Lake a bit more entertaining than I assumed?” Alfie came storming into Arrow House.

        “It’s alright, it’s taken care of.” Ella touched his arm.

        “Yeah, well, your guest of honor’s decided to take the stage, mate.” He told Tommy.

        “Is he talking about the new party?” Tommy lit a cigarette.

        “Fuck if I know, I didn’t want to listen to him.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s talking like some…fucking dictator or something. It really puts a damper on the party, but everyone else seems to agree with him.”

        “I’m going to go back out.”

        “I think Alfie and I are going to head home early.” Ella linked arms with her husband. “I’ve had enough of this.”

        “El, it’s late. We said we’d stay at least until tomorrow morning.”

        She frowned. “You want to stay?” She asked in disbelief. It had been like pulling teeth trying to get him to go to the party in the first place.

        “Alfie and I have business to discuss later,” Tommy explained.

        The night’s events were starting to wear on Ella. How foolish it was to think they could have a fun, festive night for Lizzie’s birthday. “That’s fantastic, I don’t care. You can discuss business during business hours. Because that’s how business works. It’s not about sneaking around in the shadows, always looking over your shoulder to see if anyone’s fucking listening or not.”

        Alfie looked tired but resolved. There was no need to argue but he did need to speak to Tommy. “You can head to bed, Ella, that’s okay.”

        “What are you going to talk about?” She inquired. “Can I sit in on your little chat?” Tommy and Alfie shared a look of discomfort and it was enough to set Ella off. “So, you’re both keeping secrets from me now? Of all the times, Alfie.”

        “Love, it’s…” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

        “Well, I’m worried now!” She threw her hands up. “I’m done with this. You two have your conversations, I don’t care anymore.” She stalked off to find one of Tommy’s booze stashes.

~~~~~~~~

              Tucked away in the big room, Ella pulled out a bottle of Irish Whiskey. Forgoing the glass, she drank straight from the crystal bottle. The number of people she was angry with had doubled in one night. It must’ve been a record. She didn’t appreciate her husband keeping secrets from her. Tommy, she could understand. He’d done it before and it was silly to think he wouldn’t do it again. But Alfie? It was like a kick in the gut. How many times had she told him he was the only person she trusted? The very last person left in the world that she relied on and trusted with her heart.

        Stewing at her brother’s desk, she did not want to be interrupted. But nothing about the night was going as planned.

        The door opened and Mosley entered as if he owned the place. Ella’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t say anything as he walked in and glanced at the bottles of liquor near the door. “You Shelbys throw quite the party.” He looked around, taking in the sights as if everything was amusing to him.

        “I don’t recall welcoming you in.” She replied venomously. “This is my family’s house after all, not yours.”

        “You hold a great deal of malice for me, Miss Shelby.” Mosley sat down across the desk from her, completely ignoring her jab.

        “I’ve told you many times, it’s Mrs. Solomons. You can address by my married name or don’t address me at all.”  

        “Ah, yes your husband. Interesting man, isn’t he?” Mosley folded his hands over his lap.

        Before he could continue, Ella interrupted him. She knew the games men like him played. He wanted to work her up, make her so angry that she’d let something slip. But she wasn’t about to let that happen. “My husband is my world. I would put my life on the line for him without hesitating for a second.” No matter how much it nauseated her, she kept her eyes on Mosley to make sure he took her seriously. “You will not bring harm to anyone in my family. I’ll make sure, don’t you worry yourself with how I do it. But if you ever so much as give my husband a fucking dirty look, I’ll have you rotting out in the middle of nowhere, your body riddled with fucking bullets. See that’s the thing about us gypsies, Mr. Mosley, we know the best places to bury a body. Somewhere it’ll never be found. We can throw elegant parties and play the part, but there are some things you can’t take out of us.”

        The threat only seemed to amuse the man. “Do you think your husband would do the same for you? Lay his life down on the line?”

        “Without a question.” Ella folded her arms over her chest. There was no doubt what Alfie would do for her.

        “He’s loyal? Faithful?”

        “Yes.”

        Mosley pretended to be intrigued. “Then why would I have some intelligence of a young woman seen entering and leaving your husband’s place of business? At all hours may I add?” He studied her face, waiting for the reaction of disbelief or betrayal.

        Instead, Ella just laughed. “Yes, Miss Davis. Is she on your payroll or are you simply using her?”

        If Mosley was alarmed, he didn’t show it. “I don’t follow.”

        “You can play dumb all you fucking want. But maybe next time you make sure your employee doesn’t carry around your card. Or it might end up in the wrong hands. You fucking keep her away from my husband or there’ll be hell to pay.” Ella stood up, done with the conversation. “I have no issue of doing away with her. I won’t lose sleep over it.”

        “How do you know he’s being faithful to you, then?” He tried again even if his initial plan had apparently been foiled by a misplaced business card.

        “Because my husband doesn’t enjoy the company of many people. There are a select few he loves deeply. Fortunately, I’m one of those people. I trust him more than I’ll ever trust anyone ever again. But I appreciate your attempt to drive a wedge between us. I wonder what Tommy will think of that.” She went to leave.

        Mosley stood up suddenly and grabbed Ella’s wrist. He pulled her close. Anger began to seep through his expression for the first time that night. His true colors began to show. “I would urge you to reconsider your alliances.”

        “Put your fucking hands on me again and I’ll have my husband remove them.” She spat and ripped her arm away from him. On her way out of the big room, she ran into her brother.

        Tommy looked confused. “El…”

        “Don’t you dare fucking speak to me.” She replied harshly and pushed past him.

        “Your sister has quite the mouth, Mr. Shelby. Not very becoming of a lady.” Mosley regained his composure and sat down again.

        “I don’t think she considers herself a lady,” Tommy replied and went to pour them both drinks. He looked for the Irish whiskey and was puzzled to find it already on his desk, the top opened. “Just a woman. She’s never one for social standing. I think she’s content with what she has now.”

        “And are you content with that? Your family is an extension of yourself, after all. If you have unruly family members, your reputation is severely threatened.”

        “She likes to stay out of the family business so that wouldn’t be an issue for me. She’s not a face of the company.”

        “That doesn’t matter in the public arena. It’s best to squash a problem before it becomes too much to handle. Now, what I propose, and I suggest you take this advice, you would have her married off to someone of significant standing. It would boost your appeal and perhaps tame her at the same time.”

        Tommy’s brow furrowed. “She’s married.”

        “Ah, yes, the Jew.” Mosley swirled the whiskey around in the crystal tumbler. “Well, after you’ve heard me speak, I think it should be common knowledge that you won’t be able to have a Jew as your lawyer let alone your brother-in-law.”

        Tommy’s blood went cold. He paused for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like you want me to break up my sister and Alfie.”

        “I’ve already attempted to do so. But your sister proves to be more stubborn than I anticipated. It was foolish of me if she’s anything like you then she’s as stubborn as a mule.”

        He swallowed and his eyes went to the door that his sister had just left. Tommy was sure that if she heard any of this conversation, she would have a go at the both of them. Guns would probably be drawn. “She would never leave him and vice versa. I’m not sure what else you would suggest.” Play the part, he had to play the part. Any slip would give his intentions away.

        “Get rid of him or I’ll do it for you,” Mosley replied coolly. As if murder was no skin off his back. “I know you have a reputation for making people disappear. He could prove a challenge but I trust your expertise.” Then, like it was just a bullet point on his business list or things to do, he transitioned. “Also, our friend Jimmy McCavern has asked for control of the racetracks north of Wincanton.”

        Tommy was in too much of a daze to really process what Mosley was saying. He simply nodded.

        “And Shelby, drink less.” Mosley left his whiskey on the desk and took his leave.

        Bothered by everything that happened that night, Tommy reached over and took a long drink of the whiskey that Ella had left out.  

~~~~~~~~~~~

        “The nerve of that man. And the fact that Tommy’s even listening to him! That he’s fucking entertaining him!”

        Alfie was tired of not only the night but the whole affair. He almost wished that he’d gone home earlier when Ella requested. “I don’t have any answers, love, I’m sorry.”

        “The fact that he was trying to frame you. For cheating?” She scoffed. “Honestly!”

        “C’mere,” He was proud that Ella trusted him. The thought of being unfaithful never crossed his mind even at their lowest point in the relationship. It was laughable, in fact.

        Pouting, Ella walked over to him sitting on the bed. “I don’t want to deal with this anymore.”

        “We don’t have to.” Alfie rested his hands on her hips. “I’ll talk to Tommy.”

        Ella touched her forehead to his, her eyes closing. She felt like she needed to scrub away Mosley. Scrub away the looks he gave her and the way he grabbed her wrist. It made her feel grimy and unclean. “Alfie…”

        “Yes, love?”

        She shook her head. What was there to say? The world was crumbling to bits. She didn’t know which way was up anymore. The only constant was him. All she could do was draw his lips to hers and sink into a kiss. After everything, at least that was comforting and normal.

        But it wasn’t long before there was a sharp knock at the door. Alfie drew away even though Ella tried to get him to ignore it.

        “It’s probably your brother.” He explained and picked her up to set her on the bed beside him so he could stand up.

        Ella crossed her arms over her chest, not in the mood to speak with Tommy at least for another week if she was lucky. But she wasn’t.

        “Tommy, you’ve got more to talk about?” Alfie asked.

        “Can I come in?”

        “No.” Ella asserted from the bed.

        “I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” He replied.

        Alfie stood back, letting the man into the room. “What is it?”

        “I’ve just spoken to Mosley.” Tommy shut the door behind him, worried that the man could have ears anywhere even in his own goddamn house. It was wise not to take chances.

        “That’s not news,” Ella muttered.

        “The fascists have a very strong belief when it comes to…”

        “Jews.” Alfie nodded gruffly. “I’m well aware.”

        Ella’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you talking about?” She knew Mosley had questioned her husband’s faith before but she thought it was because he was a special breed of asshole. She didn’t think the entire emerging party felt the same way.

        “Should’ve heard him out in the tent, love,” Alfie said sarcastically. “Talks about putting the blame for everything on us Jewish rats. Innit that right, Tommy?”

        Ella looked incredulous. “Thomas!” She snapped loudly.

        Tommy looked at his wits end. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m going to handle it.” He told her. “The message dies with him. It dies with him, okay?”

        “Well, we’re all waiting for your big plan! You know the one where you supposedly kill him? You’ve been talking about it for months but that fucker is still alive and walking around!”

        Alfie leaned up against the armoire. He looked grim but didn’t seem to hold the same anger for Tommy as Ella did.

        “Alfie, say something!” She urged.

        “He’s gotten closer to the man than anyone else has. If anyone has a shot at defeating this party then…” He met his wife’s look of disbelief. “Well, fuck, I know that he’s mental, Ella, we both know that! But sometimes it takes crazy to beat crazy!”

        “Exactly my point.” Tommy lit up a cigarette. It didn't matter if he was called crazy. As long as he was given the leeway to carry out his plan. In fact, he was banking on crazy to see it through. “There’s someone, once we get him, this will all be over within a week or two.”

        Ella’s eyes narrowed at him. “Who?”

        “An old friend.”

        “Who?!” She wasn’t about to let him run around her with secrets.

        “A member of the 107th. Best sniper I've ever known. He’s locked up in an asylum right now but once we break him loose, we…”

        “An asylum?” Ella threw her hands up and wondered if she had been caught in a nightmare. “A fucking asylum, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

        “What’s your plan?” Alfie asked.

        “Oh my God. Alfie, please don’t entertain him, he’s probably all doped up!”

        “Hey! You wanted a plan; I’m trying my best to get everyone out of this!” Tommy’s defenses went up when she mentioned his drug use.

        “I wanted a plan, not a crapshoot!” Ella stood up from the bed and took a few threatening steps toward her brother.

        “Hey, hey, c’mon now.” Alfie got between them before their showdown attracted the entire house’s attention and woke Linda from her sedated state.

        “At a rally, I’ll have a bullet put through his fucking head. That’s the best chance we’ve got.” He continued. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

        “What about our safety?”

        Tommy’s face fell a little. “I think it would be best if you and Alfie made yourself scarce until I’ve sorted everything.”

        Alfie frowned. “That wasn’t what we spoke about.”

        “I know. But what he said to me tonight…I’m very concerned about the safety of both of you.” His voice quieted.

        Ella was breathing heavily, anger built up so much that it was spilling over. “What did he say? Verbatim, Tom. I want to know what he said, word for word.” She hissed through gritted teeth.  

        Tommy took a deep breath. Either way, he would incur the wrath of his sister so he decided to at least be truthful. “He said I needed to deal with Alfie or he would do it for me.”

        “Deal with him. Like kill him? That man is going to kill my husband?” She pushed away from Alfie and went to get her gun tucked away in her purse.

        “El, Ella!” Alfie grabbed her before she got the chance to load her pistol. “No, no, no, put that down right now.” He wrenched the gun away from her shaking hands.

        “I’m going to fucking kill him; I swear to God.”

        “No, you’re not,” Tommy replied firmly. “We’re doing it my way because it’s the only way this family makes it out unscathed. Nothing is traced back to us, we smother the message. That’s how we’re going to do it.” He spoke firmly.

        Alfie wrapped his arms around Ella who was shaking so badly she could hardly stand up straight, even her vision was blurred with rage. “Are you happy with yourself?” She questioned fiercely. Huh? Are you fucking happy?!”

        “Ella…”

        “What do we do, Tom?” Alfie tried to keep the siblings from escalating even more. He had to keep a level head. Yes, there was a man not too far away that wanted him dead just because of his religion. But if that man was murdered in Arrow House, the Shelbys’ lives would be on full display to the public. It could land them all in prison, or maybe on a trip to the gallows. It would be difficult for Tommy to wrangle everyone out of a situation like that.

        “We have allies in Wales. The Youngs and Lees. The further west you are might be best. I’d keep you away from the north and away from London.” Tommy’s voice evened out again.

        “They found the Golds. We’re not safe out there.” Ella argued.

        “They won’t know you’ve gone out that way. I’ll send them information saying you’ve traveled east.”

        Ella looked indignant. Alfie looked disturbed. “I ain’t leaving my business alone.”

        “We’ll be able to take care of everything for you.”

        “No, no, that’s not happening, mate.” Alfie shook his head. “I’ll be running business as usual, I ain’t afraid of some fucking fascist. And I certainly ain’t gonna go live out in the middle of fucking nowhere in a caravan.”

        “He intends to kill you, Alfie.” Tommy reminded him as if the man misheard him.

        “Yeah, lotsa men have intended on killing me. Guess where they are now? Rotting at the bottom of the canal.”

        Tommy finished his cigarette and sighed deeply. “I suppose I can’t force you to do anything. But I would warn against staying in London.”

        “Yeah, well, fuck your warning. Not running off to Wales with me tails between me legs.”

        Ella’s stomach flipped and she ripped away from Alfie’s arms to rush to the bathroom. She became physically ill, the anxiety overwhelming her senses. They were all fucked.

        Tommy locked up Ella’s gun for the night and advised Alfie to keep an eye on her. Mosley would walk out of Arrow House alive. But his days were numbered.

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[thefatfeministwitch]

Happy Halloween friends! Are you excited? I am! This is my most favourite holiday of the year!  It’s a time of magick and mystery and monsters. It’s a time when anyone can be whomever or whatever they want and embrace that identity for one incredible night. Plus… candy.

Last year for Halloween I talked about some of the witchy myths and pop culture legends that contribute to the image of the Halloween Witch – like black hats and eye of newt and flying broomsticks. This year I thought it would be fun to look at another type of magick that’s contributed to the modern witch or magickal practitioner – Mediums and Spiritualists. Not every spooky woman throughout history donned the black hat and lived ina  cottage in the woods, some were highly educated European and American aristocrats who conducted séances in their extravagant salons for the likes of Arthur Conan Doyle and Abraham Lincoln. These days it’s common for those who practice witchcraft to also be psychics or mediums who can communicate with the dead, and vice versa, but this wasn’t always the case.

Spiritualism, and it’s younger and more open minded cousin Spiritism, was a popular Victorian religion that emphasized the beliefs in ghosts and spirits, and that it was possible to communicate with the spirits in the afterlife. Spiritualists believed, like many modern new age practitioners, that the spirit world is all around us, and that some spirits and ghosts become spirit guides and can offer wisdom from beyond the grave. Spiritism included the belief in reincarnation, and is still popular in Europe and south America.

Lots of spiritualists, as well as mediums and psychics, were women who still didn’t quite fit the image society has drawn up for them to live by. Many supported the abolition of slavery and women’s suffrage, many remained unmarried or were “promiscuous” throughout their lifetime, and of course many were vilified and accused of fraud until official organizations were put in place to give them credibility. Many which were funded and began by men.

That’s not to say that they were all real! Many of them were frauds and snake oil salesmen, of course. Every generation of magickal cultures have their Miss Cleo. In fact Harry Houdini was one of the most famous people to accuse mediums and psychics of being fraudulent – but only because he was a true believer. After the death of his beloved mother, Houdini sought to communicate with her after death through popular mediums and spiritualists, and being trained in stage magic, he was able to catch things the average person couldn’t. From that point he made it his mission to expose the frauds, but was hopeful that communication between the dead and living was possible. Him and his wife, Bess, created a secret code that he would use to communicate with her after he died, and she held yearly séances for 10 years. When she finally blew out the candle that had been burning next to his photograph since he died, Bess is reputed to have said “10 years is long enough to wait for any man”. I respect that.

In my lifetime, the image of the séance shifted from the dimly lit elegant salons full of fainting women in corsets, to teenagers at a sleepover with a mass produced cardboard slab calling for ghosts to visit. Spiritualism and the idea that ghosts have something to offer and teach us, the living, is an idea we just can’t shake. Especially around Halloween when the veil between the worlds is said to be thin and the spirits of the dead are permitted a visit home.

First, Let’s be clear, spirit boards or Ouija boards – it’s a board game folks. You don’t need to be afraid, you don’t need to burn it or keep it under lock and key, and they don’t open some sort of weird portal in your home. They work much like tarot cards or pendulums, and you can even use your pendulum rather than the planchette provided. The board is really just a fun way for those who don’t have the psychic abilities to speak with spirits or ghosts or ancestors. So don’t freak out! I have a Ouija board in my home that some douche paranormal investigator retrieved from a supposedly haunted house and I love it. It’s from the 1980s and hella cheap and nothing about it makes me nervous or scared at all.

If you’re not familiar with psychic or paranormal phenomena, A séance is just a gathering of people who’ve come together to reach out to ghosts or spirits on the otherside. This is usually either facilitated by someone in the know like a medium or psychic, or with a Ouija board or pendulum or other divination tools.

Mediumship is a particular type of psychic ability that allows a person to actually communicate with spirits or ghosts who are not only walking the earth among us, but who have reached other areas of the afterlife. The other forms of psychic gifts supposed allow those with those gifts to either see, smell, feel, or hear spirits and ghosts who are earthbound – you know, just chillin. They might not have “passed on” or gong into the light or whatever for whatever reason. Some are here to keep watch over or guide the living, again for various reasons. According to my favourite medium, Allison, some spirits who have passed on also pay visits here to us.

A séance lead by an experienced medium is no doubt your best bet to having a really enlightening, not to mention spiritually safe, experience. But it’s not necessary, especially around Halloween. Here are a few tips to having your own séance or reaching out to your own spirit guides or ancestors.

🔮 Tip 1: Take it seriously but not too seriously. Like I said, don’t burn your beloved Ouija board after you use it or anything, but also don’t make fun of the process. Spirits and ghosts are being or even people just like you, and they deserve to be treated with respect. Treat the process with respect or reverence, but don’t be afraid to smile or crack a joke. If your great uncle irving was the practical jokester in your family and kept a rubber chicken in his pocket, he’s no doubt going be the same in death. Have a little fun!

🔮 Tip 2: Be wary of who you invite to your séance. I’m honestly more nervous about the kind of energy some other people project than I am about ghosts! Keep the group relatively small, especially if you have little to no experience, and if anyone gives you bad vibes calmly ask them to leave. You don’t need someone trying to get ahold of the ghost of jack the ripper right along with aunt mabel, the first woman in your family to go to college.

🔮 Tip 3: Treat it like magick. IT IS. I don’t care what you call it, paranormal science is the science of magickal and unexplainable things. Ghosts are magick. So do the same things you would do when you perform magick rituals! Light your candles, cast protection, maybe grab appropriate crystals, burn herbs and incense, and wear your protective talismans. Align your chakras and ground, do yoga, say prayers, or meditate. This is just like any other psychic exercise, and you need to be able to connect, spiritually.

🔮 Tip 4: Encourage others to share their experiences, and feel whatever they’re feeling. Be prepared man, you’re going to need some tissues. If you end up contacting spirits, someone is going to cry. Let it happen. Let them get their feelings out, and encourage anyone who experiences someone to share it. You might find out you have someone in this group with hidden mediumship abilities, or discover a long-buried past life, or get some emotional closure after the death of a loved one.

🔮 Tip 5: Sweeten the deal. Take a cue from Day of the Dead traditions and offer a reason for spirits to visit you, or a way to find you. Pour out some libations for your guests, put some sweet food or bread, burn copal and rosemary incense to guide them and honour them. If you’re reaching out to someone specific put out their favourite treat, play their favourite song, and put out their favourite item from life. Afterwards you can put what’s left on your altar if you have one, or put it outside for nature to grab it. If you’re near a crossroads, depositing it there would be extra perfect.

🔮 Tip 6: Don’t read some archaic latin incantation from a mysterious and dusty tome. I mean, we’ve all seen Beetlejuice. First of all, working with spells and incantations in other languages you don’t speak is just bad news. You have no idea what you’re saying or any of the original intent behind those words. Say something from the heart. Stick to something simple, something personal, and something you can really feel. A little bit of ceremony like filling the room with candles is cool, but don’t turn it into a performance.

🔮 Tip 7: Remember to say goodbye. Honestly, this is just good manners. You’re not opening some portal you can’t close if you have a séance or use a Ouija board, but if you’re not someone who maintains contact with the dead in life it’s a good idea to make that clear. Mediums have their own set of boundaries to help keep them separate and get them privacy from spirits in their waking life, and if you should do some of the same. Be grateful and thank any spirits or ghosts for their time, and politely ask them to leave and to respect your own boundaries. If you enjoyed your experience, you can even say that if you’d like to communicate with them, you’ll initiate it in the same way. Hopefully this will keep anyone from getting attached or thinking you’re someone they can come to for help or friendship on a regular basis. I think being a ghost is probably a bit lonely sometimes and that lots are on the hunt for open minded people who can actually talk to them.

If you’re looking for a specific spell or method for spirit communication outside of things like the ouija or a pendulum, consider the Black and White Skull Spirit Communication Spell by Jacki Smith on page 92 of Coventry Magic.

Every month in my private group, the Witch n’ Bitch, I choose a magick herb and crystal to feature and work with for the month, and for October I chose Mullein and Malachite. I had so much fun researching them and creating a spell for the group, I decided to share them on the blog and feature them here on this Halloween podcast. Last Halloween I spoke about Eye of Newt and Emerald, two herbs that are ingrained in the overall image of the Halloween witch – thanks to Macbeth and the wizard of Oz. Mullein and Malachite on the other hand are all about the world of the dead, and the journey across the veil.

Click here to read Sketchy Herbs & Magic Rocks: Mullein & Malachite on the blog!

The overall theme for this year’s halloween episode is Victorian Spiritualism, and I was inspired after reading this collection of spooky stories of Victorian era occult and supernatural detectives. I cannot recommend it enough!

Click here to read Book Review of Shadows: The Weiser Book of Occult Detectives Edited by Judika Illes on the blog

  I did some research into ‘the veil between the worlds’ a while back. Not a single example of a pre-Victorian use.

— Adrian Bott (@Cavalorn) October 30, 2017

If you’re interested in learning other ways that Victorian Spiritualism has influenced the modern New Age and Witchy movement, check out this super interesting thread on twitter about the term “the veil between the worlds”, which I use a lot in this episode!

I hope you all have a wonderfully safe and SPOOOOOoooooOOOooooKYyyyyy Halloween or Samhain!

A Very Fat Feminist Halloween Special! Vol. 2 Happy Halloween friends! Are you excited? I am! This is my most favourite holiday of the year! 

[aaroncutler]

Sunrise as Comedy [by David Kalat]

June 11th: The following text was written by film critic and historian David Kalat on the occasion of this year’s F.W. Murnau retrospective at the Brazilian festival Olhar de Cinema. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans screens in the festival June 11th and 12th. More information about the retrospective can be found in English at http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/en/2017/retrospective-f-w-murnau/ and http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/en/screenings-2/#.retrospective, and in Portuguese at http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/2017/olhar-retrospectivo-f-w-murnau/ and http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/filmes/#.olhar-retrospectivo.

Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau’s Sunrise is the dictionary definition of a classic film. It won (for all intents and purposes) the first ever Academy Award, has been placed on the National Registry, and was the first silent film put out on Blu-Ray.  It routinely places in “Best Of” lists, it’s a picture whose artistry is intended to be accessible to mass audiences.  It is conventionally beautiful, conventionally narrative, conventionally stirring.  It needs no apologies or excuses, it’s just excellent in every way.  

But did you know it was a comedy?

Consider the basic premise: Sunrise presents a sexy, vampish “Woman of the City” who invades a rural idyll where her very presence corrupts a naïve young man.  In order to pursue this temptress, the young man comes to believe his only escape from his existing small-town romance is to kill his girl, which he utterly fails to accomplish, and thereby sets in motion the plot developments of the rest of the film.

Just six months before Sunrise hit theaters, American audiences saw the exact same plot in Harry Langdon’s comedy Long Pants!

In this context, it’s worth remembering that Langdon’s film crossed enough taboos (or do I mean tabus?) that some audiences didn’t find it funny at all.  Meanwhile, Murnau does pitch Sunrise like a comedy, and its contents are not very much distinguishable from what constituted comedies of the same period. For example, Sunrise’s main characters go on a date to a carnival, where they run into money problems and an out-of-control animal (see Harold Lloyd’s Speedy), and the film climaxes with a catastrophic storm (see Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill, Jr.)

The young man (George O’Brien) rows out to the middle of the lake with his trusting wife (Janet Gaynor) where he intends to drown her.  But when push comes to shove, as it were, he loses his resolve and rows mindlessly to the opposite shore, where they board a trolley car.  And in one of the most astonishing sequences in all of cinema, the shell-shocked couple gather their wits as they are transported from what might as well be a medieval village straight out of Nosferatu through a forest to an industrial patch and finally arriving in a futuristic Metropolis, all in the span of a couple of minutes.  There is no such trolley ride anywhere in the world—this thing might as well be a time machine.

The transformation is absolute.  The opening scenes take place in a silent movie world of exaggerated gestures and portentous symbolism.  But the city reveals more naturalistic acting, more observational in tone.  And the city scenes are obsessed with the details of the setting—the cars, the clothes, the architecture, the store fronts, the people-watching, the traffic.

Dramas do not often get bogged down in such observational fascination with their setting.  Although it happens sometimes (as with the semi-documentary approach of Billy Wilder’s People on Sunday, or perhaps Robert Wise’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture), this is a technique more familiar from comedies, where the observational detail is part of establishing the ironic commentary. Think Jacques Tati’s Playtime, or Chaplin’s City Lights, or Jean Renoir’s Boudou Saved From Drowning, or just about anything by Harold Lloyd.

Murnau introduces two outsiders into this cityscape—scraggly, haggard refugees from a horror film who have stumbled into this world in a state of high emotional dudgeon and will encounter it as if they are visitors from another planet. Again, the parallel is to a comedy’s structure, with the outsider hero(es) providing for a commentary on the world around them.  Charlie Chaplin rarely stumbled into any of his adventures after a botched murder attempt, but all Murnau has done is to provide a context for his protagonists’ alienation where someone like Chaplin uses his costume as a shortcut to the same ends.  Like Boudou or Mr. Hulot, George and Janet are outsiders invading this space.  We will witness its familiar contours through their eyes.

Setting in a film in the juxtaposition of old versus new has been a central recurring feature of many important comedies (Steamboat Bill, Jr., Mon Oncle, Modern Times, Yoyo) and also specifically places Sunrise squarely in the zeitgeist of late 1920s comedy.

For example, consider what happens once George and Janet arrive in the city.  They proceed to stumble from one episodic set-piece to another. In one of these, they crash a wedding ceremony and are overwhelmed by the moment (wedding vows take on an eerie significance when juxtaposed with trying to kill your wife).  George breaks down, begs for forgiveness, and the two stagger into the street in a romantic haze.  In another transformation of setting not unlike the trollycar ride that brought them here in the first place, they lose track of where they are and see themselves in the fields of home—until car horns bring them back to reality.  And what ensues?  Slapstick havoc in the middle of traffic, that’s what—a punchline, just like you’d expect.  Traffic-based gags abound in comedies of this era.  The scene emphasizes the modern tribulation of city streets packed with noisy cars going every which way.

Observations on the comic aspects of traffic are fundamentally the stuff of movie comedy. Thanks to the coincidence of the age of movies and the age of cars, there wouldn’t have been much to say about traffic prior to the dawn of film.  It doesn’t really belong in any other medium.  Paintings can’t capture the movement well; theatrical performances can hardly stage this indoors; no one would write a book about traffic because it isn’t a literary subject--but 1920s comedians put such material into movies all the time. 

Pointedly, Sunrise does not view this transformation from rural life to modernity as a bad thing.  It seems to be tilting that way in its early scenes, the way the evil vamp is called “Woman of the City,” as if her corruption is connected to her sophistication. Once George and Janet arrive in that city, however, what they find is wonder, fun, and welcoming strangers. The city folk are sometimes a little perplexed by the two rubes, but never in a mean way—and no matter what George and Janet do or misunderstand or break, they are greeted by smiles and tolerance.

Sunrise shows how the new world, threatening as it is to the old, doesn’t have to lead exclusively to corruption—it is possible to navigate your way through this modern world and still come out morally whole.  As such, Sunrise is about hope in the face of wrenching change.

As it happens, 1920s screen comedy was itself undergoing a wrenching change, metamorphosing from silent physical slapstick to a new talkie genre of romantic comedy.  The solo comedians of slapstick’s Golden Age had to make way for a new breed of female stars, who took equal footing with their male costars.  The end product of that transformation would be the screwball comedy, whose genre conventions presuppose flirtation as a form of combat, or vice versa.  The stars of 1930s romantic comedies “meet cute” and engage in reel after reel of open combat, before discovering that hate is just a variation on love; you have to really care for somebody deeply to want to fight them that badly.  Fists give way to embraces and the former opponents end up in each other’s arms.

This is, you may note, the template of Sunrise—in which the couple starts off as opposed to one another as humanly possible, and end up as tightly allied as conceivable.

Sunrise is not just structured like a comedy, it is absolutely jam-packed with comedy actors.  Janet Gaynor, the female lead, was a fairly inexperienced young actress whose resume before showing up here largely consisted of comedy work—Laurel and Hardy’s 45 Minutes From Hollywood, Syd Chaplin’s Oh What a Nurse, Clara Bow’s The Plastic Age, Charley Chase’s All Wet, and various and sundry Hal Roach one-offs.

Once she and her hubby/attempted murderer George O’Brien make their way into the city, they spend the rest of the film encountering comic actors: Ralph Sipperly, the Barber, came from Fox’s own comedy shorts division.  Jane Winton, the Manicure Girl, came from such comedies as Footloose Widows, Why Girls Go Back Home, and Millionaires.  Then there are the Obtrusive Gentleman (Arthur Housman) and the Obliging Gentleman (Eddie Boland).  Both Housman and Boland were small-time comedy stars who were brand names in their own right, having top-lined their own respective series of comedy shorts.

On top of all the comic actors, there are actual jokes: the wedding reception mistaking the peasant couple for the bride and groom, the business at the photographer’s and the headless statue, the comic misunderstandings at the salon, and a drunken pig!

This is a “silent film” in that no dialogue is spoken, but it has a synchronized soundtrack that includes sound effects and music, and sure enough the various slapstick punchlines get their little “boing!” and “wah-wah” music cues just like you’d expect. 

Murnau’s allegiance with the world of comedy continued in the follow-up feature to Sunrise, City Girl (whose title, a riff on “Woman of the City,” signals from the outset its agenda vis a vis Sunrise).  City Girl opens with a scene in which a rube on a train unwisely reveals a fat bankroll and his own unwary attitude towards his money, rendering him an easy mark for the attention of a grafter.  And once again we find Murnau pulling plot points from the films of Harry Langdon—in this case, the short Lucky Stars.

Murnau stuffed the cast of City Girl with comedy veterans, too: Eddie Boland is back (briefly); Guinn “Big Boy” Williams was a regular supporting actor in silent and talkie comedies (including the brilliant Ladies Night in a Turkish Bath with Jimmy Finlayson); David Torrence earned his slapstick comedy credentials a few years after working with Murnau, in the Laurel and Hardy film Bonnie Scotland; and Richard Alexander was on the front end of what would prove to be a wildly varied career that included Harry Langdon’s See America Thirst, as well as Laurel and Hardy’s Them Thar Hills and Babes In Toyland.

Finding such comedy references in a Murnau film may be jarring to those who think of him only in terms of Nosferatu and other grim fables.  That may be a sizeable contingent, I realize.  It is generally the tendency of critics who write about Murnau’s films to identify the comic elements as something imposed on Murnau against his wishes by the studio in an effort to Americanize and popularize his films.

The primary English language text on Murnau is Lotte Eisner’s The Haunted Screen — the very title of which signals its preoccupations and prejudices when it comes to Murnau.  And so in her fealty to those prejudices, Eisner skips over, dismisses, or otherwise brushes under the rug any of Murnau’s works that don’t fit the bill.

Lotte Eisner suggests that all these tawdry jokes were inserted into Sunrise by Fox gag men and Murnau was obliged to go along with them.  Hey, but wait a minute–Sunrise was famously made without studio interference, and even after his falling out with Fox, Murnau never said that Sunrise was anything other than a work of total creative freedom.  You can’t have your cake and eat it too—you can’t say Murnau had total creative freedom but he also had to tolerate jokes inserted into the script against his will. If Sunrise was Murnau’s vision, his vision was prone to flirt with comedy.

Now might be the time to note, ahem, that The Last Laugh has its own comic elements, in which a bleak story comes to a tragic end, and then reboots itself as a comedy for its final reel—inspiring the English language title.

For that matter, Murnau made The Finances of the Grand Duke, a mild action-comedy about a master thief that in many ways anticipates similar lighthearted fare along the lines of Arsène Lupin or To Catch a Thief or a fair chunk of Steven Soderbergh’s back catalog.

The magic of Murnau is that his genius was not limited to vampires and demons—the man was also gifted with a deft comic touch.  Sunrise is Murnau’s comedy masterpiece.

[fire-bear]

A, E-G, I-K, N, P-Z? sooo basically most of them :'D

Why do you do this to me? ;A; I never read any of the questions before I post, urgh.

Right.

A. If you could rec a piece of music to accompany one of your fics, what would you pick? Why? 

Uh. Well I know that Dance For Me has a song. I had the idea and the title and began writing before I needed a song and went looking. This is what I found:

E.  Who’s your favorite main character you’ve written? 

Arthur. Or APH England. He’s the easiest for me to write for some reason.

But I like my OC from my novel, Benrial. He’s pretty easy to write because, after thinking about it, he’s a more confident, more fun and just better version of me.

F. What stories are you planning for the future? 

Well. I’m in the middle of writing my Christmas one-shots. I’ve counted and there’s 15. (I’m supposed to start posting them on Wednesday cause it’s twelve days till Christmas then - unless I counted wrong which is highly likely. Urgh, numbers.)

Then I’m gonna do this thing cause I wanna write more Voltron stuff but I have too many things started and not enough time, dammit!

After that, it’s Hunk’s birthday and I’m gonna do one-shot birthday things for all the paladins! ... Even if Shiro technically has no birthday... They’ll all be different birthdays from different universes. For instance, Hunk’s will be from a soulmate AU. Actually, I’ll just tell you all of them’s since I’m excited: Shiro’s will be canonverse because canon Shiro needs a break. Pidge’s will be a chat AU and... I’m not sure how I’ll do in that cause I’ve not done one like that before that I can recall... Lance’s birthday is in a fantasy AU where it’s his destiny (along with Hunk and Pidge and Keith) to save the kingdom but there’s a misunderstanding and angsty hurt and the Galra catch him and, well. Keith gets his birthday in a zombie apocalypse because he had to go and be born in the month of Halloween. (I would’ve written it this year but, urgh, time. There is not enough of it.)

They’ll be written between the continuation of the Sticky series because I have a lot of ideas for that AU so. I should point out that I mean a continuation from the second chapter of Glue and not the first one.

And in between this, I need to finish of the chapter I started of Shadow House 2, try writing more of my novel and I really wanna write more of Lance’s Fury.

So, uh, does anyone want to pay me to write instead of going to work so I have time for all this?

G. Where do you think you grew the most this year? 

Probably my belly.

Nah, kidding.

I think I’m... pretty much the same? I think I might be getting better at mimicking other’s styles, like I apparently did with Thames’ Child. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Then again, I did write over 50,000 words of my novel and I never finished it so I reckon I did better than my first attempt which... eh. *shrugs*

I. What’s your favorite work you did this year? Why? 

Hm.

*goes to AO3*

Hm. I quite liked Neighbour. And Glue. Which, uh, says a lot about me... Or says that I’m kinda dissatisfied with all the half-finished stories I apparently have lurking around. *sighs*

J.  What are the best jokes you told this year? Any jokes you thought were funny that people didn’t catch? Vice-versa? 

Uh... Hm. Heh, the one I can actually remember is the jokes they tell in the second version of Glue where it’s ‘not as if a vampire will lure me away’ or something to that affect.

Also! Any of the jokes in Thames’ Child because I managed to evoke the source material for the crossover quite well, I think. :3

K. Who have you killed this year? Why did they have to die? 

... I think it best I not say... ;P

But, lemme see...

Wait, I can’t say without spoiling things! But, well, I killed Arthur and Gilbert at points because of the universe and the idea.

But, in Shadow House, wow. So many die. It’s meant to be a horror story - kinda like a horror movie where people are dying in horrible ways

N. Anything you were planning to write that never got written? 

I have a document solely with Hetalia fanfic ideas which is 84 pages long. To be fair, some of them have been written but I’ve kept them in the document because I had vague ideas of what could happen next (these are usually one-shots).

I also have a separate document for every other fandom idea and that’s 14 pages long, including notes for one I’ve started. Or for one-shots I wanted to continue and haven’t gotten around to it.

P. What are your pet peeves in other people’s work? 

When they don’t make it clear who’s talking.

By that, I mean, they have the person speaking named in the next paragraph for some reason. Or they close their speech but all they needed to do was take a new paragraph.

I get confused easily - don’t do that to me. :(

Q. Quote three bits of writing you read his year. Can be your writing, or not. 

I’ll just use my own...

From Fortune:

"Then Arthur came to this action on his own," Alfred declared. "And he will be punished, in a way. But there is something else to note. Arthur, your toga..."

"What about it?" Arthur asked distractedly as his heart sank. He was more focussed on his previous comment. There were only two ways to punish a god: strip them of their powers and lock them away for a millennia or to kill them outright and replace them with another. Arthur would not mind dying but the idea of being unable to see Gil fulfilling his life while he was locked away would be a torture he didn't want to endure.

"Have you not noticed?" Alfred asked, a smile beginning to grow. "Look."

Without thinking, Arthur obeyed, looking down. His eyes widened when he realised what he was looking at: his toga was now white. And, now that he thought about it, he had once worn black, had he not? He stared down at himself, confused.

From Lance’s Fury:

Just as they reached the adjoining corridors, there was movement and Lance jerked away as something came towards him. Whatever it was, it was fast and probably deadly. He grasped for something to defend himself with but he didn't carry a knife and there wasn't a vast source of water around. Before he could even think of taking the water from the air around them, another movement cut in front of him and two blades clashed just a hand's breadth from his heart.

Blinking once, his eyes focussed and he found Keith wielding a knife against Pidge's dagger. Keith and Pidge struggled for a moment before they broke away. Lance staggered back, still in shock, his heart hammering in his chest. He had almost been killed... By Keith.

"Keith-" Pidge began but the other academ had focussed his attention on what he seemingly deemed the greater threat and launched himself at her, his windcrafting ruffling her hair as he used his increased speed to fight her. Thankfully, Pidge was using her metalcrafting and was just as fast, keeping up with every swing.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Hunk was mumbling beside Lance. "What do we do?"

From Glue:

Unable to think of an intellectual response to that, Arthur merely said, "You're ridiculous."

"And you're actually smiling – it's pretty."

Arthur sucked in a breath, startled by the comment. His heart did an odd thing where it fluttered and clenched and seemed to swell all at once. It was way too soon for him to entertain thoughts for anyone but Kiku, in his opinion – even if he had been dumped. And Kiku clearly had no intentions of returning to him. So he was on his own and free to do as he liked. Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, Arthur turned to Alfred and held out his hand.

"I've not actually introduced myself. I'm Arthur Ki-"

He was interrupted with a loud laugh. "Dude, you totally don't need to be so formal. But, Arthur, huh? It's a cool name. Suits you."

Again, Arthur couldn't stop his lips from twitching up into a smile. "Your foam moustache suits you, too."

R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch, which one would it be? What would you do to it? 

This lot. I’d make it more realistic. Like, do actual research into the porn industry? Or just make their reactions and stuff more... I dunno. I mean, it’s okay just now but I’m just gonna continue it rather than go over it.

Also, all my earlier stories on ff.net - I would scrub all the attempts at accents. Urgh. (Though, some of the stories, the accents are supposed to be exaggerated versions which would disguise them. Or something.)

S. What’s the sexiest thing you wrote this year? 

....

Well: Neighbour, Glue, Thames’ Child, To An Ell Broad, Dance For Me.

T. Themes, motherfucker, do you have them? What are they? 

... I don’t really get this question. Themes for what? In general? Because, if so, not really...?

Oh, wait. I think I understand it now... But I can’t think of what my stories have for themes...

=/

U. Any stories that took a abrupt u-turn from where you thought they were going?

When I started The Keeper, I thought it was gonna be simple. It’s... not any more. Also needs to be updated. ^^”

V. Which story was the most viscerally pleasing to write? Tell us your narrative kinks. 

... I honestly liked writing them all? I like the ideas finally being put down. Then they leave my head, poof! And people leave kudos and I’m like, “Wait, what was that one again?”

I can’t think of any... kinks...

W.  Who are your favorite writers? 

Hm, well, @zeplerfer, obviously. And... there are others but I’m just too lazy by this point to go looking for links to the ones on AO3.

X. What’s your least favorite work of this year? 

Actually, one I’ve not posted yet. The first Christmas one I finished. The prompt limits you to ‘enemies in the same company’ and my mind just went ‘nope’ so what I got down was horrible. I feel bad cause it’s for an anon...

Y. Why did you write? For fun, for a friend, for acclaim? 

For fun.

Also, always wanted to be an author, even if I took a course in something completely different!

And I think I’d go insane if I didn’t, to be honest.

Z. If you could choose one work and immediately finish it, what would it be? How would you end it?

Hm. This is difficult. I want all of them to be finished so everyone can find out what happens in them!

... But I’ve been thinking about A Harmless Archfiend and it would end in death and sacrifice and love.

Flipping finally! I thought I’d be at this all night! O.o I hope these answers are good enough?