Yeah - Alex is probably the most frustrated and deeply tired Oscar we’ve got (he’s the most jaded Jack-foil out of all of them too)
So him and Sarah’s quiet and empathetic energy probably would be very nicely together.
I think you won me over with “There’s no expectation” because there’s so many things pushed onto Oscar from people above him with Sarah also feeling this sort of responsibility in this different oldest child way. (Oh - the different ways they treat their siblings too)
Hey Sammy! I am absolutely spreading the agenda, and feel so free to tell me youre not interested if you’re not, but as a fellow prakken fan could I interest you in the concept of Alex prakken Oscar and Sarah jacobs
Birdy - please do tell what this means and how Alex Oscar and Sarah originated LOL
anyway i am begging you be shamelessly sincere. create what you want solely because you want it, do things for the enjoyment of nobody but you. write things nobody else will understand, draw things that nobody else will get, learn to have fun in ways that are personal and honest and genuine. you will never, ever be happy if all you’re chasing with your creations is the approval and praise of others, and yes those things are nice to have, but at its absolute core this thing you make has to be for you. you have to love it even if nobody else does.
Hey Sammy! I am absolutely spreading the agenda, and feel so free to tell me youre not interested if you’re not, but as a fellow prakken fan could I interest you in the concept of Alex prakken Oscar and Sarah jacobs
Birdy - please do tell what this means and how Alex Oscar and Sarah originated LOL
“You been staring at the same page for the last half hour Os.”
“No I ain’t.”
“An’ which one of us can read time-“
“I can read time-“
“The fuck’s wrong with you.”
Oscar let out an exasperated sigh, the book dropping to his chest as he let his head loll back against the thin mattress atop the bed frame. He was sat on the floor, legs kicked out in front of him, ready and willing to trip Morris in the inevitable occasion he attempted to try and walk past.
“I know we know da’s an asshole. but I fuckin’ forget sometimes till I see him.”
“You saw da?” Morris’s voice wavered on the word, anger or anxiety Oscar wasn’t sure but the sound of it was familiar.
“Was at a bar earlier, y’know the one down-“
“Earlier today?”
“Ain’t important. But he were there, an’ a coupla of his buddies I guess.”
Oscar didn’t move his gaze from the ceiling, picking apart the the cracks and damp that covered it across every room in the house.
“He do somethin’?”
“Ain’t nothin’ I can complain about.”
“If you’re gonna complain about it to anyone.” Morris didn’t have to give any further explanation.
Oscar’s shoulders moved in some semblance of a shrug.
“I dunno. Heard him say my name, an’ I was tipsy-“
“What time was this-“
“An’ I was tipsy. So I went over.”
“You’d kill me. What’d he do.”
“Barely looked at me.” A pause. “Told him I heard him say my name. He musta seen me but he looked at me like I weren’t worth the fuckin’ dirt on his shoes.”
Morris kept his mouth shut.
Oscars jaw was hard, voice bitter.
“Didn’t even speak to me. Spoke to his mates.” He scoffed. “‘Look at him comin’ over at hearin’ his name. Like a fucking dog.’”
“You been staring at the same page for the last half hour Os.”
“No I ain’t.”
“An’ which one of us can read time-“
“I can read time-“
“The fuck’s wrong with you.”
Oscar let out an exasperated sigh, the book dropping to his chest as he let his head loll back against the thin mattress atop the bed frame. He was sat on the floor, legs kicked out in front of him, ready and willing to trip Morris in the inevitable occasion he attempted to try and walk past.
“I know we know da’s an asshole. but I fuckin’ forget sometimes till I see him.”
“You saw da?” Morris’s voice wavered on the word, anger or anxiety Oscar wasn’t sure but the sound of it was familiar.
“Was at a bar earlier, y’know the one down-“
“Earlier today?”
“Ain’t important. But he were there, an’ a coupla of his buddies I guess.”
Oscar didn’t move his gaze from the ceiling, picking apart the the cracks and damp that covered it across every room in the house.
“He do somethin’?”
“Ain’t nothin’ I can complain about.”
“If you’re gonna complain about it to anyone.” Morris didn’t have to give any further explanation.
Oscar’s shoulders moved in some semblance of a shrug.
“I dunno. Heard him say my name, an’ I was tipsy-“
“What time was this-“
“An’ I was tipsy. So I went over.”
“You’d kill me. What’d he do.”
“Barely looked at me.” A pause. “Told him I heard him say my name. He musta seen me but he looked at me like I weren’t worth the fuck dirt on his shoes.”
Morris kept his mouth shut.
Oscars jaw was hard, voice bitter.
“Didn’t even speak to me. Spoke to his mates.” He scoffed. “‘Look at him comin’ over at hearin’ his name. Like a fucking dog.’”
hey, newsies fandom? making roleplay accounts to roleplay as nine year old children and then making constant sexual references and innuendos about your ships As those nine year olds is. really fucking weird. stop doing that.
“Practice,” Jack answers, an almost knee-jerk reaction to the question, and then screws up his face a little as he tries to get his thoughts genuinely in order. His eyes dart away as he thinks, head tilting. “I jus’…practice is everythin’. Y’know. Can’t get good at nothin’ if you don’t do it a bunch, an’ art’s really like that.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls his sketchbook from his bag and flips through the pages, only showing each one after he’s glanced at it himself and approved it as non-embarrassing.
The pages are overcrowded and feature a chaotic mix of subjects, ranging from building studies to nature to a million figure drawings of a million different people. Some are…noticeably better than others, and many aren’t even half-finished, just loose sketches that were promptly abandoned.
“I ain’t too good at makin’ people look like…people, sometimes.” He isn’t - he struggles noticeable with anatomy. “Took me a while to get the hang of Kath’s face, y’see?” Many of the drawings don’t look much like her at all. Some don’t look much like anyone. “An’ it stings when you try real hard an’ it still don’t turn out like anythin’ half-decent. But you jus’…gotta…keep tryin’.”
Jack offers a stiff smile, fighting his own awkwardness.
“Don’t often feel like a choice though, do it? Artists are a real specific type. We…make art like it’s eatin’ or somethin’. Can’t stop it. Jus’. Don’t take it too hard when it don’t turn out how you planned.”
Finally, I can share the trailer of my independent short film <Bluebird in the Wind> (離風藍蘭), which has been invited to several festivals for its premiere! Two and a half years of self-animating, painting and producing, it is to honour my sister’s passing. Ultimately, this project became my refuge from pain and an act of love
Nevertheless, thanks to my family as always.
For the screening info:
April 15, 2025, @columbusfilmfest
April 18 2024 at 7PM @filmfestdresden Shortfilm Lotto
April19 2024 at 4:15PM @themaincinema @mspfilmsociety