#dashiel quicke

[megaeralwrites]

I heard it's OC Kiss Week, so how about a quick doodle of Hermann and Dashiel from The Shabti? @ockissweek

#oc kiss week #ockiss24 #the shabti #ghost stories #historical fantasy #queer fiction #2024 debuts #ancient egypt #lgbtqia books #writing community #supernatural thriller #my art #hermann goschalk #dashiel quicke

[friendly-neighborhood-imbecille]

Crushing an egg

4k words, some description of gore, will be crossposted to ao3 and ffn

When William Edward Lancer first started teaching at Casper High, he knew there was a risk of danger. It’s a horrible thing to think about, but there was a very real chance of an intruder, or even one of his students bringing a weapon with the intention to harm the other students. But never back then, had he thought the risk of harm to his students would be this large. 

Ever since the ghosts started appearing, the school had been subject to constant attacks. And now, the severity of the attacks had been steadily increasing. At first, it had just been pairs of humanoid ghosts, who were mostly uninterested in harming humans, using the school as their battleground. Then, every once in a while, the occasional low to mid-powered animal ghost would attack. But recently, more and more mid to high-powered animal ghosts had been seen rampaging the halls of Casper High. Trampling anyone in their path and blindly attacking anyone they deemed a threat, obstacle, or annoyance. 

Two students had already been hospitalized due to injuries received during one of these attacks. There was talk of installing a permanent ghost shield, replacing the temporary one already installed. Although it would use far more power than the school district could ever afford. 

At the moment, the best they could do was hope for the attacks to stop, and be ready for when they inevitably didn’t.

“Now, it’s important to view the story from all angles. It’s easy to understand the protagonist’s point of view, but what about the antagonist? Now, Nag and Nagaina planned to attack the family for the same reason Rikki destroyed their eggs: fear. Why do you think their actions were viewed as evil, while Rikki’s actions were viewed as good?” 

The class was silent. Some students stared blankly at his face, some out the windows, others at the clock behind him, counting down the minutes til the class ended. 

Edward sighed. “You don’t have to answer, I just want you all to really think about it.” He waited a couple seconds before moving on. “This story was written about a hundred years ago, but it can still relate-” He heard a sharp gasp and stopped in the middle of his sentence. Daniel Fenton was frantically scanning the classroom, as if he was searching for danger.

“Mr. Fenton, are you alright?”

His head snapped forward, and he visibly forced himself to relax. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, but I really have to go.” He started anxiously tapping his fingers against his arm. “I, uh, forgot the, the, the book in my locker.” 

Edward looked to Daniel’s bag, trying to read the text on the book barely poking out. “I thought I saw the textbook on your desk a minute ago?”

Daniel reached over and zipped the bag closed. “Yeah, that was the science book. I grabbed the wrong one. They both say Pearson on the front, so I mixed them up. I’ll be quick, like, five minutes tops.” He started tapping his foot and quickly glancing between Edward and the door. Though it was very possible that Daniel had indeed grabbed the wrong book, he doubted it. But there was no use fighting against this. Even if he said no, Daniel would keep pestering him until he inevitably walked out without permission.

Edward sighed and ran his hand down his face before relenting. “Alright, please be quick.”

“I will, thank you.” Daniel grinned sheepishly and grabbed his bag before running out.

Edward scanned the room. It didn’t look like much had changed, but he attempted to engage the class anyway. “So, how does the conflict between the animals in this story mirror the conflicts we see in our modern day human society?” Surprisingly, he saw a hand slowly raise to answer the question.

“Yes Kwan?”

The boy looked towards his friend, Dashiel Baxter, as if waiting for something. Mr. Baxter waved his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture, and Kwan began to speak. “Well, the snake and the mongoose are at each other’s throats. The snakes are dangerous to the humans, so the mongoose wants to kill them. But then he kills, uh, breaks the eggs, which haven’t done anything wrong. Like, they had potential to be dangerous like the other snakes, but they were completely innocent. So I guess it’s sort of like-” Before he finished his sentence he was cut off by a loud blaring alarm.

“Attention all students and staff, a level 7 animalistic ghost has entered the building. All students and staff are to evacuate immediately.”

The class was panicking. Students were grabbing their bags and crowding to the door, knocking down desks and tables, and pushing others down to get to the front.

Level seven was high. So far, the detection system had only alerted to a few level sevens, all of which were humanoid. A ghost with that much power could easily kill a student. And with it being animalistic, it wouldn’t likely think to avoid doing so.

“Okay everybody please line up single file, stay calm, don’t push or shove, and stay together.” Edward tried to take control of the situation, but the students’ fear far outweighed their reasoning. He followed them out the door, helping up students that had been pushed down, and tried to move to the front of the group. Luckily, his classroom wasn’t far from the nearest exit. It wasn’t long before they were all safely hidden underneath the bleachers next to the football field, along with several other classes taking refuge there from the danger.

He took a second to catch his breath before counting his students. None of them were absent that day, so he shouldn’t have been missing any. He counted one short. He recounted and got the same result. He went down the list alphabetically and stopped once he got to the Fs.

“Where’s Daniel?”

The class fell silent. Some students began to search nearby crowds for their classmate, and Elena, one of his more observant students, stepped forward. “He, he left to get a textbook, remember?” She stuttered out.

Edward froze. His head started to heat up and it felt like a rat was frantically trying to claw its way out through his chest. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and brought it up to his mouth. “I’m missing a student, does anyone have Daniel Fenton with their class?”

A couple seconds went by. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, he didn’t even think. He just listened and stared back at the school building, as if willing his student to suddenly burst through the doors and run towards them. The shield started to materialize around the building, trapping whatever ghost that was there inside. Every class had already made it out.

The walkie-talkie buzzed to life and emitted the one sentence he was dreading to hear. 

“Nobody’s seen him.”

His stomach dropped. All of the students knew to stay with a group, any group, when there was an attack. The only reason a student would be completely missing is if they were cornered by the attacker, which could only mean one thing. “Gone with the Wind, he’s still in there.”

The Fentons were fast, but even they would need time to gather supplies and get to the location of the attack. And by then it might be too late. Daniel Fenton was not an athletic child, he didn’t stand a chance against whatever was in there with him. 

“Star, you’re in charge. I want you to bring the class over to Mr. Falluca. Tell him the situation and don’t let anyone separate from the group. I’m going back inside.”

Star reached over and grabbed Paulina’s hand before nodding. “Okay.”

Edward looked towards the school, gathered his breath, and ran. He ignored the confused and concerned shouts of the students and staff, he ignored the burning sensation in his legs, he ignored the fear rising up from the pits of his stomach and the back of his throat. He needed to do this. His student needed him.

He passed through the shield, feeling nothing but a slight buzz as he went through, and threw himself through the doors before stilling and holding his breath. He needed to be smart about this. He couldn’t just launch himself into danger, that wouldn’t fix anything. He needed to be calm, careful, and quiet.

 He slinked through the halls, careful to not make a sound, and searched through every unlocked classroom he walked by. He could hear shrill squealing from every possible direction, but it was the ceiling that shook and shuddered. The ghost was above him.

He hastened his movements, whisper-calling his student’s name into the doorway of every room, hoping to find him before he himself was discovered. No one answered. He went to the basement floors, raising his voice slightly, and running from room to room. Nothing. Maybe Daniel had found his way out of the building and away from the threat. Maybe he was putting himself in danger for nothing. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and raised it to his mouth once again. 

“Does anyone have Daniel Fenton with them?” 

He heard loud booms and crashes from above, followed by shouts and animalistic screeching. The shouting sounded human, the voice was masculine and young sounding.

The walkie-talkie buzzed. “None of us have him.”

He knew where Daniel was.

He ran to the stairs and scaled them as fast as he could, not caring whether or not he made noise. If he did, it would certainly be masked by the squeals and screeching of the ghost above him. 

He tripped halfway up the second flight, but continued scrambling his way up. He couldn’t waste any time, his student was in danger.

He made it to the top of the stairs and looked down the hallway. It was completely still, silent. If it weren’t for the cracked floor tiles and walls he could almost pretend there hadn’t been a ghost here at all. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t dwell on that. He had to find his student. 

He ran into an empty classroom and searched, but found nothing. He peered out the door but saw no sign of the ghost. He ran to search the next classroom, ignoring the trail of glowing green beneath his feet. Empty, just like the last one. 

What if he was too late? Daniel was by no means a particularly strong or brave child. The boy was terrified of ghosts and would likely be too overwhelmed with fear to try to think of an escape route if cornered. 

He searched the next classroom, still no sign of the boy. Suddenly the animal ghost burst through the walls of the classroom, barreling towards him and roaring with anger. He scrambled to hide behind one of the tables that had been knocked over and braced for impact, but it never came. 

He heard an ear-splitting screech of pain followed by a large thud and the scraping of hooves against tile. The scraping gradually faded off and Edward was left alone again.

He took in a deep breath and quickly began to hyperventilate. He could have been killed. God, he nearly was killed. Maybe he was the wrong person to do this. Maybe he should leave and let the Fentons handle this when they arrived. Maybe he should just hide and hope he isn’t discovered.

But if he did that, what would happen to Daniel? As a teacher he had two main responsibilities, to educate his students, and to protect them. To protect them even if that meant sacrificing his own life to save theirs. 

Daniel was his student, and he wasn’t going to sit back and let his student die.

Edward stood up and left the classroom to continue his search. He sped from room to room, trying to ignore the furious screeches threatening to split his skull open, trying not to think about what might happen to him if he was caught by the beast emitting them, trying not to think about what would happen if Daniel was caught.

Distressing images flashed through his head. Images of his student, abdomen ripped open and organs spilling out, mouth open, eyes vacant and clouded over. Worse, head crushed underneath hooves, skull fragments and teeth scattered across the floor, a leg detached from the rest of his body, being gnawed on by the beast as if it were a dog’s chew toy. He shook his head and tried to get rid of them, but they refused to leave. 

Thrown down a flight of stairs, neck broken and skull cracked from the impact. Head bitten off by powerful jaws. Pierced through the stomach and left to slowly bleed out. Eaten alive, still thrashing and screaming, begging to be let go- 

He heard the yelling again, Daniel wasn’t dead yet. If he followed the sound, he would find Daniel. And if he found Daniel, he’d be able to help him escape. He ran down the stairs and sprinted to the west side of the school, the shouts growing louder and louder, and the inhuman screeching growing along with them. He forced himself to ignore the screeches, he needed to protect his student, he couldn’t run away from danger this time. But right as he reached the source of the screaming, he froze. 

The ghost, a ginormous and terrifying boar with tusks sharp as daggers protruding from its jaws and a single spiral horn erupting from its forehead, and a small body pinned to the wall, pierced through the middle by its horn.

The screams hadn’t been coming from his student.

It had been another ghost.

The phantom.

He shouldn’t get involved. He should just leave. This was a dangerous situation. He needed to leave and find Daniel. But one glance at the smaller ghost’s eyes and he couldn’t. His hands were shaking, his heart was accelerating, his breathing was getting faster and faster. He grabbed the legs of a desk and, with a strength he didn’t know he had, struck the boar in the face with it.

The boar screamed and fell to the ground, releasing the boy from its hold. It attempted to stand back up, but Edward struck it again and again. His arms felt like they could fall off, but he continued to strike the boar. His legs felt like they could no longer support his weight, but he continued to strike the boar. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, but he continued to strike the boar. It wasn’t until his legs gave out and his arms refused to move the desk again that he realized that the boar wasn’t going to get up.

He knelt there, staring at the creature, breathing heavily and trying to understand what had just happened. The horn was broken off of its head and into two pieces, the core of it glowing green and sparking, yet gradually dimming as the seconds passed. The face was caved in, and there was ectoplasm everywhere. Had he really done that? The boar began to melt and bubble away, slowly simmering into nothingness.

“Are you alright?” Edward snapped his head towards the source of the question and winced when his eyes met the large wound in the phantom’s abdomen. It was gushing out ectoplasm and he could even see some of the boy’s organs inside.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Edward replied. “Do you need help? I could get you a first aid kit if you’d like.” 

The phantom’s face scrunched up in thought. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be outside with everyone else? There was an evacuation, wasn't there?”

Edward jumped as he remembered what he was doing before. “I’m missing a student. He didn’t evacuate with all the others and I-”

“Daniel Fenton?” Phantom offered, then flinched slightly, as if he regretted saying anything.

“Yes. How did you know?” Edward looked at him curiously.

“I,” Phantom looked around the room, seemingly hesitant to give up the answer. “I helped him get out.”

Edward let out a relieved breath. “So he’s safe?”

Phantom looked down at his wound and paused before speaking. “Yes. he’s safe.”

It felt like a large weight was lifted off his shoulders. His student was alive. He looked back to the wound in Phantom’s abdomen and winced. “I’m going to go find a first aid kit so I can help fix your wounds. Don’t move from this spot, I’ll be right back.”

He ran out of the room and down the hall, quickly losing his breath. Now that the threat of imminent danger was gone, it seemed that his limits had been put back in place. He slowed to a halt and leaned against the wall next to him to catch his breath. He would have to walk.

He was almost to the nurse’s office when he began to hear hushed voices.

“...ectoplasmic readings…faded gradually… cut off like usual…could mean…not sure…”

He crept closer to the source of the sound, careful to not be heard, before realizing there was no danger in being observed. He began to walk normally, yet still relatively quietly towards the source of the sound, feeling rather silly for his earlier actions.

The voices soon became clear as he came closer, and before too long, he could see the familiar orange and teal jumpsuits of Jack and Madeline Fenton. “...knew we should have brought the tracker.”

“There’s still an ecto-signature in the building. He has to be around here somewhere.”

Edward cleared his throat, causing the other two to jump and face him. “Drs. Fenton, might I ask what exactly you are doing here?”

Jack and Madeline both jumped before turning to face him, Jack looking confused and Madeline with a smile on her face. It was a sweet smile on the surface, he had seen this smile a million times on a million different faces. But rather than feeling warm and inviting like it usually would, it felt cold, condescending. He felt insignificant under her gaze. “Oh, Mr. Lancer, we were alerted to an attack here. We just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Edward steeled himself and forced his emotions to remain hidden from her dissecting gaze. “And I do appreciate that. But, I do believe that the attack is over now. Am I correct?”

Her smile strained a bit, but she was quick to cover it up. “Yes, that ghost boy must have captured it. And we’ll be out of your hair as soon as we have him” Madeline attempted to step past him, but Edward moved to block her. Edward started to feel his temper slip and by the looks of things, the same could be said for both Jack and Maddie.

Edward crossed his arms and let out a breath to attempt to calm himself down. “I see, and is this ghost boy an immediate threat to the safety and wellbeing of the students?” 

“No, but he’s up to something,” Jack answered with fake enthusiasm. He was grinning from ear to ear, but somehow it seemed more like a baring of teeth. “We just know it. We need to capture and interrogate him, maybe do a bit of ripping apart if we can, and figure out what he’s up to, right Madds?”

“Exactly. We’re so close to figuring this out, and now we have him cornered. This might be our only chance for months. So if you would please excuse us-” She forcefully pushed Edward out of the way and along with her husband, began to march down the hall towards the room where he had left Phantom in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I-”

Madeline turned her head to face him, the same perfectly condescending smile on her face. “Doctor Fenton.” She corrected.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.” Edward nearly shouted. Every shred of subtlety was stripped from his demeanor. The pair froze in their steps and whipped around to face him. “The agreement here was that you lend aid when needed. That you help when a ghost attack threatens the lives of our students and staff and leave when the threat has passed. The agreement was not that you use this school as a trap to corner and shoot down children based on a hunch. You have no authority here, the only reason you are able to hunt the ghosts that attack here is because we allow you.”

Madeline’s entire face turned red with fury while Jack stared down to the ground, barely suppressed rage clear on his face. Madeline marched forward towards Edward and spat out her retort like venom on her tongue.

“The reason we are able to hunt the ghosts who attack here is because we are the world's leading experts in ectoplasmic behaviour, biology, and most importantly for this case, extermination. It is not just a hunch. You’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of and yet, he still has you fooled. Though with what I’ve seen of your intelligence, that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. That thing is extremely dangerous and could turn on us at any moment. Can’t you see, he’s using all of us for his sick-”

“That’s enough.” Edward cut her off, face deliberately cold and expressionless. He looked down at her with the intent to instill the same feeling of insignificance she gave him earlier.

She stomped her foot, seeming like a stick of dynamite with a fire almost to the base of the fuse. “No, I don’t want to hear any of your-”

“Please exit the building. If you don’t in the next five minutes I will contact the authorities. The same goes for if I see you lurking in the parking lot or circling the building.” 

And just like that, the flame sputtered before finally going out. She glared at him with a look that could break the bravest of men, turned around, and marched towards the entrance, followed shortly behind by her husband.

He watched as they passed through the door, entered their abomination of a vehicle, and left before he let out a relieved breath of air. If it were up to him, those two wouldn’t be allowed to enter school grounds, ghost attack or not. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He continued on his way to the nurse’s office, grabbed a roll of gauze, disinfectant, and whatever else seemed useful, and made his way back to the classroom he left the phantom in.

He just couldn’t understand some people. Yes, it was good to be cautious, but never to this extent. To attack a child for a crime you have no proof he will commit, it was the coward’s way out. There had only been two instances where the phantom had been reported doing anything immoral, and both had been proven to be falsely incriminating. The Fenton’s had even confirmed this, however reluctantly they were to do so. It was extremely unjust, not to mention selfish, to attack Amity Park’s greatest ghost defence on nothing but baseless accusations and prejudice.

Edward forced himself to calm down. There was no use in getting so upset, especially now that the cause of the frustration had left. He reached the door of the room he had left Phantom in, took a deep breath, and opened it.

Phantom was nowhere to be seen.

He stood there for a minute, frozen, unsure what to do, before calmly looking around the room for the missing ghost. All he found in his search however was a sheet of notebook paper, torn at the edge with just two words written on it.

Thank you. 

He supposed he should have expected this. After all, he had never heard of anyone before ever getting that close to the phantom without capturing him first. It would make sense that he would flee to take care of his own wounds rather than stay to accept help. 

He left the medical supplies in the room. Just in case.

#Danny Phantom #mr lancer #fic #my writing #tw gore #danny fenton

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Ming Lee is based on Ming from Turning Red. She is a 49 year old cursed human, museum director, and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of shifting. Ming is portrayed by Lucy Liu and she is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Is there anything more devastating in this world than letting down your own Mother? Such an experience so painful as to break her heart? Or a fear so great as to disappoint her? Maybe the only rival feeling is to become that, realizing too late that you've turned into the person you swore you never would. There are certain things Ming can live with, like your daughter having some unsavory companions and dreadful taste in music, but never ever did Ming expect her very own daughter to go behind her back to both lie, and disgrace the family. Perhaps Ming had been the issue, perhaps she had been too soft on Meilin, let her slip through the cracks and into a sea of temptation. However it was only at the very last moment, just as their mother-daughter bond was to be shattered forever, did Ming realise yes it was her fault. Fear is what drove Ming and Meilin apart, Ming was too scared to let her baby girl grow up and become a woman. Mei-Mei, too afraid to confide in her Mother and risk harsh judgment. Walls went up surrounding the two women until they were at war with each other, furious about the lack of trust and respect from both sides, not able to see just how alike they are. Not able to trust each other with the truth. It is a difficult thing to swallow your pride, and even more punishing to understand that perhaps, mother did not know best on this occasion. Saying sorry doesnt come naturally to parents who try so hard to protect their children, but Ming is trying her very best to repair the damage and make amends for the hurt she caused Meilin.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Thomas O’Malley: Thomas makes it look so easy, adored by everyone including his children. Maybe he can share some of his secrets to a mother desperate to heal her bond with her daughter. ❀ Dashiel Parr: A troublesome little delinquent! Ming has never actually caught him doing anything wrong, but she just knows it's him rearranging the brochures in the museum! He’s just too quick! ❀ Eleanora Ashwin: Now there is a perfect example for a daughter! A polite, kind, respectful young lady who would never bad-mouth her guardians! Maybe Eleanora could help Ming teach Meilin a thing or two.

THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

#lucy liu #turning red #pixar rp #disney rp #has powers #female bio #open female #open bio

[jojoblessed365]

Teach Me Tonight - Chapter 10 - jojoblessed365 - Gilmore Girls (TV 2000) [Archive of Our Own]

The last week of school is filled with determining the school council for next year as well as the cool off period for seniors who would be graduating that end of May. But Jess is more than happy since it meant that he survived an entire school year as a teacher and he had no hiccups related to the same. What was the icing on the cake, was the respect he had gained with both his fellow co-workers and students, as well as the sense of happiness he felt as both his new career change and family change, feeling a stronger bond with DJ than he has ever felt.

The only thing that was, or rather, felt incomplete, was his romantic trajectory. Even though, they were back to being friends, Jess felt himself pining profusely for Rory. Every conversation they had or every look they shared at each other, left Jess with the ashes of what- could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been. He should have been in a relationship with Rory, not in some vacuum of something which wasn’t exactly friendship or complete alienation. He was, as the French would call it, in exquisé- the pain of still caring for someone that you knew you can never have.

So, once school’s out for the day, Jess’s only home for as long as it takes to change into his running gear before he’s back out the door, the cooling spring, almost summer afternoon perfect for getting in a quick 5-mile run.

Or it would have been if his agent hadn’t called halfway through his run. Jess answers, because he has to – he can ignore text messages while he’s at work, but once it’s gotten to the point of either his agent or his editor calling him, there’s no ignoring his phone anymore. So, Jess slips his phone from his pocket, his ringtone cutting into the music that’s playing through his headphones, and slides across the screen to answer. “Hi, Birdie,” Jess says, slowing his pace down to a walk.

Birdie Lenora Cassopolis, one of the fiercest women Jess’s ever met, lets out a noise that almost sounds like she’s concerned about him. “Why are you breathing so hard?”

Jess rolls his eyes. “I’m in the middle of a run.”

“Hmm, well, sorry about that,” Birdie says, sounding the complete opposite of sorry. “Did Amir manage to get a hold of you?”

“Um, no?” Jess says. “Sorry, I got his text, but I was in the middle of teaching.”

Birdie lets out a sound of annoyance. “Sweetie, you do know you can still earn a living with these Bishop books, right?”

Jess sighs, given that he’s been touted as the next Dashiell Hammett meets Raymond Chandler hybrid with the Dodger Bishop series in the recent edition of the New York Times, maybe it isn’t so surprising – and he’s shaking his head even though he knows Birdie can’t see him. “I’ve told you, I’m not giving up teaching. I made the discovery that I love it too much.”

“Hmm, I know. Can’t blame me for trying, though.”

It’s an old argument, familiar and well-trodden with any of Jess’s lifestyle choices, and Jess lets it fade away. “So, why are you calling? What’s so urgent that both you and Amir are trying to get a hold of me?”

ENJOY!!!

Here's the fashion moodboard in order to visualize Jess, Rory and DJ's outfits and primary inspiration-

#jess x rory #jess mariano #rory gilmore #literati #rory x jess #doula danes #jess and doula #literati fic #teach me tonight

[fumikomiyasaki]

Kiss

Zyan & Damón

Inessa & Lumi

Julian & Dashiell

Kisses with meaning

He was hesitant about even joining this event... after all he knew how much Damón often said he would never find true love and so on... so for Zyan to admit all of his feelings to him through this kisses was something... that was quite a big leap and could endanger their bond...even with his predictions... he was unsure what to do... but when he didn’t do it... will he regret it.

And so he asked Damón to come to his dorm to be alone with him....

“Well Bluebird, what did you call me here for?”

He spun his head in his hand as Zyan walked closer.

“I just... want to be truthfull with you but... please don’t hate me for this.”

As he said this he took his hand and started. Kissing his palm, the back of his hand, the finger tips, the wrist, the heart,  the neck, the nose to lastly his lips... withdrawing a little with a nervous look in his eyes...

“This is truely how I feel about you and... I just wanted to let you know...“

Inessa was annoyed by all this talk about this event, especially cause she tried to keep people away from Dragiselle however Taron managed to distract her with one line.

“Didn’t you ever want to tell someone how much they matter?”

“Why do you say this?”

“Well I know one person you are close to. Let me handle the guarding.”

She sighed and then left of to NRC, knowning full well what they were implying.Quickly she walked to the Octavinelle dormitory and dragged Lumi out of work to a nearby broom closet.

“Listen... I only do this to have it off my shoulders.”

She kissed the fingertips, back of the hand, nose and lips of them... looking at them still lightly annoyed...

“There the secret is out... I like you... now I can finally go back to work and forget it-”

Before she could leave Lumi pulled her back for the kiss on the lip.

“And you won’t let me return some for you...”

She quickly turned red.

“Fine.... but I still have to protect the princess so make it quick.”

Julian meanwhile was waiting for this moment to finally have a reason to give kisses... and so he did set up a meeting with Dashiell in the Valhunny dormitory to give him some of his affection.

“You know why I am here right... relax... for now accept my kisses and then we can see where it goes.” Julian smirked at him saying that and seeing Dashiell sitting on the massage table already looking at him in dissapointment...

Julian took his hand... giving a kiss on the wrist, on his stomach, on his stomach, his neck and lastly on his lips. Dashiell looking back at him and diving his tongue back into his mouth to get another one.

“You really are an idiot... can’t you be genuine with your words instead.”

“I do like your face like this and you know I live to be a bit of a entertainer... if I spill the beans imidiatly it would be boring right.”

“Just come here you idiot and stop monologing... You want some back right?”

#twisted wonderland oc #twst ocs #twst oc #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland ocs #twisted wonderland original character #zyan desire #zyan x damón #inessa winter #inessa x lumi #julian richter #julian x dashiell

[byneddiedingo]

Myrna Loy and William Powell in The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934) Cast: William Powell, Myrna Loy, Maureen O'Sullivan, Nat Pendleton, Minna Gombell, Porter Hall, Henry Wadsworth, William Henry, Harold Huber, Cesar Romero, Natalie Moorhead, Edward Brophy, Edward Ellis, Cyril Thornton. Screenplay: Albert Hackett, Frances Goodrich, based on a novel by Dashiell Hammett. Cinematography: James Wong Howe. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons. Film editing: Robert Kern. Music: William Axt. I have seen W.S. Van Dyke's The Thin Man several times, and I've read Dashiell Hammett's novel, but I still can't remember whodunit. Which is, I think, because it doesn't really matter: The mystery is secondary to the banter of Nick and Nora and the eccentricity of the characters they encounter as her world of privilege marries with his world of cops and lowlifes. Most of the best mysteries, by which I mean those of Hammett and Raymond Chandler, are about atmosphere rather than crime: Those who want to try to solve the mystery along with the detective should read other writers who are more involved with planting clues and red herrings. The Thin Man may have benefited from MGM's lack of interest in the project, which could have been swamped with the kind of second-guessing from the front office that often stifled the studio's films. Instead, it was treated as a routine programmer whose stars, William Powell and Myrna Loy, were second-tier and whose director, known as "One-Take Woody" Van Dyke, was known for getting things done quick and dirty -- filming took only 16 days. But Powell and Loy became first-tier stars, and the movie earned four Oscar nominations (picture, actor, director, and screenplay) and was followed by five sequels. Powell has often struck me as a surprising star, with his big nose and his dubious chin, and I used to have trouble distinguishing him from Melvyn Douglas. Even now, if you asked me to say without hesitating whether it was Powell or Douglas in My Man Godfrey (Gregory La Cava, 1936), or Douglas or Powell in Ninotchka (Ernst Lubitsch, 1939), I might stumble a bit. But he had undeniable chemistry with Loy, so much so that they got re-teamed in movies outside the Thin Man series like The Great Ziegfeld (Robert Z. Leonard, 1936), Libeled Lady (Jack Conway, 1936), and others. The Thin Man also has a little more zip and zest than some of the films made after the Production Code clamped down, though Nick and Nora, like other married couples, were forced into twin beds. They still drink to an unholy excess, of course.

#The Thin Man #W.S. Van Dyke #Myrna Loy #William Powell

[aecbmreviews]

AECBM Reviews | Unbiased Perspectives on AEC Business Management's Customer Service

In the dynamic realm of financial education and management, AEC Business Management LTD stands out as a beacon of excellence. Founded by Dashiell Soren in 2019, this institution has garnered praise for its commitment to providing top-notch financial education through the Alpha Elite Capital (AEC) Business School. In this article, we'll delve into customer service reviews to uncover the effectiveness of AEC Business Management LTD in addressing user concerns and queries.

User Feedback:

The user feedback for AEC Business Management LTD's customer service is overwhelmingly positive. Many users commend the platform for its responsive and helpful customer support team, emphasizing the team's dedication to assisting students effectively. Positive reviews highlight quick response times, knowledgeable support staff, and successful issue resolutions.

Response Time:

AEC Business Management LTD places a premium on prompt responses, and user feedback attests to the platform's success in this regard. Users consistently report quick turnaround times when reaching out to the customer support team, creating a positive experience for those seeking timely solutions to their queries.

Quality of Support:

The hallmark of exceptional customer service lies in the quality of support provided. AEC Business Management LTD's customer support team receives accolades for professionalism, expertise, and a genuine commitment to student success. Users appreciate the team's ability to address complex financial concepts and resolve issues satisfactorily.

User Recommendations:

Enthusiastic user recommendations echo the sentiment that AEC Business Management LTD's customer service is a valuable asset. Users highlight the platform's efforts to prioritize students' needs, create a friendly and helpful atmosphere, and consistently deliver high-quality support. The positive recommendations serve as a testament to the institution's commitment to its students.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, AEC Business Management LTD sets a commendable standard in the realm of financial education, and its customer service plays a pivotal role in this success. With a responsive and knowledgeable support team, the institution not only meets but exceeds user expectations. As prospective students consider their educational options, the overwhelmingly positive customer service reviews contribute to the institution's reputation as a leader in financial education.

#AECBM Reviews

[jamieroxxartist]

One of my Favorite Authors! And a Fantastic Quick Video that illustrates so well, Dashiell Hammett’s Philosophy of Life:

RIP Today, Jan 10, 1961 – #DashiellHammett, American detective novelist and screenwriter (b. 1894) walked on.

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dashiell_Hammett)

#Youtube

[megaeralwrites]

The cover reveal is still 5 days away, but in the meantime, meet the leads of The Shabti: Dashiel Quicke and Hermann Goschalk!

#the shabti #ghost stories #2024 debuts #historical fantasy #queer fiction #ancient egypt #writing community #lgbtqia books #my art #writeblr #cover reveal coming soon #dashiel quicke #hermann goschalk #camcat books

[thenoirblogger]

Movie Review: Trouble Is My Business (2018)

Rating: ★★★☆☆

In "Trouble Is My Business," director Tom Konkle takes audiences on a nostalgic journey back to the black-and-white world of classic film noir. The film pays homage to the genre's iconic conventions, with its hard-boiled detective, femme fatales, and a labyrinthine plot filled with twists and turns. While it successfully captures the visual and tonal aspects of film noir, the execution falls short in certain areas, resulting in a mixed bag of a movie.

Set in 1947 Los Angeles, the story follows private investigator Roland Drake (played by Tom Konkle himself), a typical noir protagonist. Drake is a cynical, quick-witted detective who finds himself entangled in a web of deceit, murder, and mysterious women. The narrative borrows heavily from the works of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, with a convoluted plot involving missing persons, stolen jewels, and corrupt officials.

Visually, "Trouble Is My Business" is a treat for film noir enthusiasts. The film effectively recreates the shadowy, high-contrast cinematography of the era, immersing viewers in a world of dark alleys, smoky bars, and rain-soaked streets. The black-and-white palette adds to the atmospheric quality, enhancing the sense of danger and intrigue. The attention to detail in the production design and costumes is commendable, transporting the audience back to the post-war period.

While the technical aspects shine, the film's pacing and storytelling suffer from inconsistency. The plot, though intricate and ambitious, becomes overly convoluted at times, making it challenging to follow the thread of the narrative. The dialogue, an essential element of the genre, has the razor-sharp wit and memorable one-liners that characterized the classic noir films.

The performances in "Trouble Is My Business" are a mixed bag. Tom Konkle carries the weight of the film on his shoulders as the lead actor and director, embodying the archetypal detective with his gravelly voice and stoic demeanor. However, his performance occasionally lacks the depth and nuance required to fully engage the audience. The supporting cast, including David Beeler, Brittney Powell and Vernon Wells, deliver solid performances, and the cast is truly exceptional.

Where the film succeeds most is in its attention to the noir aesthetic and its dedication to recreating the genre's atmosphere. The jazz-infused score by Hayden Clement adds to the authentic feel, evoking memories of classic film noir soundtracks. Additionally, the use of noir tropes, such as the femme fatale and the corrupt authority figures, is effective in creating a world fraught with danger and moral ambiguity.

"Trouble Is My Business" is a valiant attempt to revive the spirit of classic film noir, paying tribute to the genre's visual style and narrative conventions. While it falls short in terms of narrative coherence and performance depth, fans of film noir may still find enjoyment in the film's nostalgic charm. If you're looking for a stylish throwback to the golden age of detective stories, this film is worth a watch, albeit with tempered expectations.

#film review #film review Trouble Is My Business #film noir

[casspurrjoybell-19]

CLAIMED - Chapter 34

*Warning: Adult Content*     

After triple-checking over his shoulder to ensure that no one else was watching, Head Warrior of the Crescent Moon Pack, Corey Cahill shoved his hand deep into the back of his bedside drawer. 

He blindly rooted around in the semi-organized space until his fingertips found the shape of the item he was looking for. 

Then, quickly, he slid the object into the pocket of his jacket, closed the drawer and made his way out of the room he shared with his Mate, Beta Jaxson Ortiz. 

Corey made quick work of the sweeping staircase in the center of the Pack House before navigating back to the sitting room from which he originally came. 

When he crossed the threshold, the sight before him was one that he would gaze into for eternity if only he were afforded such a privilege.

There he was.

 There they were.

"Dude, this stuff is gonna make you so jacked. Make sure to drink a lot, not enough so that you poop all over me again like last time but just enough so that you get big and strong and that I can teach you how to kick some as..." Jaxson paused, eyes widening with recognition at the curse word that he was about to use,."Sorry, not ass, I mean to say butt," the Beta’s eyes widened even more to a size that almost resembled a certain, yellow-haired Faerie. "Oh fuck, I still said it."

Corey chuckled. 

"Almost there, Gift. You're already doing better than last week," the Head Warrior praised, leaning over to press a kiss to Jaxson's soft lips before bestowing one on the top of baby Theon's sleepy forehead as well.

Corey wished that he could freeze an image in time, to brand the picture of Jaxson swaying Theon back and forth in the rocking chair as he fed him into the Warrior’s heart until the end of time. 

It was so idyllically perfect in such an imperfect way, the simple, domestic pleasure of seeing his Mate take care of their baby igniting certain desires that Corey did not even recognize as a component of his being until now.

He mentally pinched his Wolf, Dashiell as he drooled across the front of his skull, reminding him that this was not the time to pump his Beta/Omega full of pups. 

That could wait until approximately twelve o'clock, after their errands were finished.

"Thanks for the encouragement but I'm pretty sure I'm a lost cause," Jaxson sighed, shoulders drooping but he still held Theon as gently as ever. "This potty mouth is here to stay, let's just hope Theon doesn't catch on too quickly." 

Then, the Beta finally looked up at his Mate, a smile stretching the spattering of freckles that also dotted the skin of his pink lips.

"Don't you have shit to do today? Wait, fuck. I did it again."

 Corey just laughed again, nodding as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his left one clenching around the object that he had just placed there.

Lying to Jaxson was like tearing off a limb and still having to pretend that everything was intact. 

Luckily Corey’s inherent lack of facial expressions made it a little easier to hide his unease regarding the fact that he was about to intentionally mislead his soulmate regarding his plans for the day but not by much. 

So, with an incredibly deep breath and a quick talk down from the ledge, he finally responded.

"Yes. Warrior... stuff," Corey lied all-but-smoothly, palms and soul itching with the need to pull Jaxson into his arms, informing him of the truth behind his sinful, treacherous deception and then promptly beg for his forgiveness.

The Head Warrior quietly added that to his to-do list, right underneath 'fuck mate at approximately twelve o'clock.'

Jaxson just grinned wider, chirping a quick... 

"Okay, have fun. Love you." 

Before turning his attention back down to Theon. 

"Alright, lil' dude. Wanna hear about the time I accidentally set twenty-three live chickens loose inside the Pack House? See, it all starts with acquiring the goods. My personal place of choice was our local KFC..."

Corey shuffled a little in his spot, absolutely not trying to stall at all.

"Are you sure that you will be okay?" he suddenly blurted after a few moments of nervous hovering.

Since Corey’s incident, it had been harder than ever to separate himself from his Mate. 

Leaving Jaxson alone was like ripping his heart out, giving it les, and letting it walk around completely unguarded.

In other words, it was hell.

Jaxson looked back up, pausing his intricate story and raising a curl-obscured brow.

"Corey..." he started, voice soft and knowing. "I'll be fine, and so will Theon. Plus, I've got that lil' worm over there helping me out today." 

He points and Corey turns, following the invisible line drawn by the gesture. 

On the other end of it was a male Omega with gigantic, round glasses, a button nose and cheekbones so high and round that they honestly made him resemble a cartoon character. 

He waved with a wide smile, introduced himself as 'Evie' and promptly turned back to the game that he was playing on a handheld device.

"See? We're gonna be fine," Jaxson assured, tilting his head in a way that made Corey’s heart do a quick Olympic backflip. "Now, go do your thing so I can get back to teaching Theon how to become a legend."

‘Jaxson was right. It was time to go. Time to go. Time to go.’ 

Corey repeated the phrase a few more times. 

Around the fifteenth or so time, his feet finally decided to unstick from the hardwood and head out of the front door.

The air was a little chillier now, the fall breeze shifting the branches of trees whose leaves were beginning their shift from green to yellows and oranges.

This was the Head Warrior’s favorite time of year, when the browned-out colors of the world reminded him of book pages and it was warm enough for light layers but still cool enough to make you crave a cup of something hot.

And just like the leaves, it was a perfect time for change. 

For transformation.

His talk with Alpha Oasis Amador had gone well. 

After presenting his wish to begin his own pack, to rebuild on the land that his Parents once owned, he found that the Alpha also shared similar desires. 

Apparently, Alpha Oasis had long been looking for a way to pay tribute to the wrongs that his father had committed upon Corey’s Parents' Pack.

So the plan was immediately greenlit, the title on the land signed into Corey’s name along with a promise from Alpha Oasis to support them in whatever ways they needed as they established their family name once more.

They would be two packs but one in heart.

There was only one issue, which was that, as of yet, Jaxson was not exactly... aware of Corey’s plans.

The Head Warrior knew that he needed to tell his Mate and he certainly planned to. 

After all, if Jaxson said no, then Corey would not think twice about staying right where they are now. 

But fear weighed Alpha Corey Cahill down as he wished with everything in himself that the Crescent Moon Beta would want to share this dream with him, that his lover would stay by his side as both his Mate and his Beta.

Fallen leaves crunched underneath his heavy, black boots as he continued his trek. 

He had long since entered the backwoods, stepping over various logs and ducking under low-hanging branches on the way. 

He could have easily driven to his destination in a quarter of the time but for some reason that felt wrong. 

At least, for this particular occasion.

Regardless, he needed a little time alone to slow his steadily racing heart.

Squeezing the object in his left jacket pocket in a tight fist, Corey thought of Jaxson.

It was almost surreal to think about how he was provided with privilege enough to love and be loved by the most beautifully resilient man to ever exist within the boundless confines of this universe. 

Every morning that he woke up to a face full of those soft, springy curls, Corey immediately thanked the Goddess for her generosity with a ferocity enough to drive me to tears.

Jaxson Ortiz was it for him.

The Pack Beta had always been and always would be, from the very first moment that the Head Warrior’s soul made recognition of his transcendentally bewitching yet delicately vulnerable existence. 

Corey would walk through the gates of hell, fight the world until his knuckles bled and even give up his own life if it meant ensuring his Mate’s happiness.

The ground beneath his feet gave way to softer soil when a large pond finally revealed itself from behind a thick cover of red and brown foliage. 

The water was uncharacteristically calm, with barely a ripple to be glimpsed along its clear surface and Corey approached it’s bank with mindful steps.

This pond was one that he often found Jaxson lingering around during his patrols. 

It only took a few instances of noticing his behavior for the Warrior to finally give in to curiosity and inquire into the Beta’s preference for this particular body of water.

Jaxson’s answer made Corey’s soul ache.

"Mom used to bring me here," Jaxson explained, arms wrapped around his own waist in a self-soothing gesture as his lips pulled into a tight line that was initially intended to be a smile. "When things got really bad... We would come here and count the tadpoles," he recalled the memory with an aching fondness, the volume of his voice lowering to a whisper. "Some of her ashes rest here, too."

Corey settled down onto a smooth, dry boulder just to the right side of the bank.

He had always prided himself in his uncanny ability to handle difficult situations. 

After all, he was an Alpha, he was quite literally genetically built to do such a job. 

But now, sitting here and staring out into the water, he was suddenly face-to-face with the most esoteric, nerve-wracking challenge of his life.

All of the romance novels in the world couldn't have prepared him for this. 

But there was only one way to get to the other side and that was through it.

So, he sucked in a deep breath of leafy, fall air and held it for a few seconds. 

Then, he released it all in one go... and began... But when he opened his mouth to speak, he instead found himself flushed when no words formed upon the nervous apex of his lips.

It should have felt strange, his sudden lack of reconnaissance to words that usually flowed through him like a calm river. 

But this time, his inability to create meaning from the depths of his never ending well of emotions made complete sense.

Corey’s love for Jaxson was not one that could be accurately described through the trivial confines of any language. 

It was so much more than that, a force that would continue on far past the time that they both were rendered to ash and returned to the earth.

His Mate’s radiance was timeless, reflected in so much more than his physical beauty alone. 

Jaxson was resilient, he was determined and he was so delightfully and unapologetically himself in every moment of every day.

Corey admired his lover’s outlook on the world, seeking to imprint every little moment that they spent together into the empty gallery spaces of his heart and fill them with his glittering sort of light.

His Mate’s existence fit together with his like the most talented pianist's fingers fit to keys. 

And together, they were a symphony.

The object in Corey’s pocket sizzled against his calloused palm in the best way, a reminder of the weight of it all, of the importance of what he was about to do.

He just had to do it.

He could do it.

With a square jaw and a bite back at the nervousness that threatened to shake him down, Corey Cahill finally spoke.

"Hola..." he paused, hesitating as he contemplated the best way to begin this conversation. 

He ran a hand through his hair, acknowledging the way that his hand trembled in the process. 

"Ms. Evita. I am your son's Mate. It is beyond a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." he finally finished his greeting, using the name that Jaxson had confided him with only a few months back.

There was no script for this, no speech that he had planned. 

He needed her to know that his devotion was true, that it came from a place of truth, a truth that rendered his voice to a tremor, the slightest of quakes noticeable in its vulnerable tone.

"My entire life I have waited for my destined, Ms. Evita. And your Jax... It's unexplainable. He just makes me feel so at peace while also somehow setting my soul aflame." 

Corey squeezed the object in his palm, drawing strength from the profoundness of its meaning. 

The water remained calm at his feet, only disturbed by the faintest ripple from the shifting of the wind. 

He could only pray that Ms Evita would hear him as he unearthed himself.

"Jaxson is the definition of everything that I could ever desire. He is all that my soul has ever prayed for. I dream of him even when I am awake..." 

It was then that Corey broke, suddenly aware of the blur in his vision and the tears that had begun to form a pond of their own along the sharp line of his jaw. 

He tried wiping them away with the sleeve of his jacket, only to find another fresh wave of wetness assuming their place.

He rubbed at his chest where it tightened and before he could stop himself, a strangled sob tore its way out of his chest.

"I... I..." Corey forced out through the sudden flash flood of tears, taking in jagged breaths in an effort to soothe his suddenly spasming lungs. "I love him forever. I love him madly. I have waited lifetimes for him, Ms. Evita..."

The object finally became too scorching to bare within the downy confines of his jacket pocket, so he pulled it out, running his fingers gently across it’s smooth exterior. 

He didn't dare look yet, though. 

Not until he had finished his vow.

“I promise to show him how much he means to me every day, ma'am. I promise to uplift him always. I promise to ease his burdens, to shower him with all of the endless, unbounded adoration that he deserves," Corey sealed his worlds with the most powerful vow, the kind that one made to oneself. 

It was only then that his thumb flicked up and he finally glanced down at the uncovered object that he clenched in his palm so tightly that his knuckles were rendered a pale white.

The ring was perfect, the golden band adorned with an emerald gemstone so bright and enrapturing that it almost held a light to Corey’s beloved's own irises. 

It rested within a glass box, one that was custom fitted to the jewelry inside.

The Head Warrior’s hand shook violently but he still held it tight, determined not to let his sweaty palms fumble such a precious item.

His breath caught somewhere on the way down to his lungs and he could only hope that Jaxson's mother was there with him and that she approved.

"So, Ms. Evita... I pray that I will be granted the honor of receiving your blessing." 

Corey stalled, running the back of his palm across his eyes once more to wipe at the never ending waterfall of tears that had taken up a seemingly permanent tenure there. 

"Just as I pray that I will be bestowed with the honor of calling your son, my husband."

[fakesurprise]

I sat in the seat across Wren once we got on the bus. Dashiel was checking his phone, and the few other passengers on the second floor and drunk from the sounds of things.

“Few humans or changelings see a waer fight,” I said.

“You were – fast. You would have ...” Wren trailed off, gulping softly and looking Wren, not hiding onyx eyes or the flecks of furred scales on their skin.

“If it would have saved our lives, yes. You and Dashiel know about magic: I don’t. Knocking the woman out stopped the spell. She is a mage, and disguised as the fae; had I killed her, I doubt forensics would have led to me. Had she been just an ordinary human, murder was not an option unless she killed someone.”

“You considered all of that?” the changeling asked, some of the fear fading slightly.

“In a confined room, there is no human I could not murder in moments. Waer know how fragile humans are, and also how deeply they deny that. We try and avoid creating ugly incidents that can be avoided.”

“I don’t know if I could kill anyone?”

“Good. I hope you never mind out,” I said.

“But –.” Wren was silent, finding words for a few moments. “But you’re strong.”

“I know how strong I am, yes. I’ve had to learn that, for reasons which are my own. Which doesn’t mean I still don’t surprise myself at times, but I have a very good idea how how quick and strong I am. I have killed before. I will likely have to again. I take no pleasure in it.” I sat back into the bus seat. “That’s not a kind of strength to envy. I envy people whose life choices have never led them to learn the things I know, or have to do the things I can do.”

#writing #prose #of tempests and teapots #camp nano 2021

[chiseler]

Hammett Made It Easy

To put it bluntly, it is simply, humanly impossible to watch Roy Del Ruth’s original 1931 film version of The Maltese Falcon without drawing comparisons and parallels with John Huston’s much more popular (if not exactly “timeless”) version from a decade later. After all, in many fundamental ways the films are a nearly identical match, scene for scene and line for line. Almost, anyway. Enough so that you’d notice.

The fault for this lies squarely on the shoulders of author Dashiell Hammett. whose 1930 novel made straying from the original source material extremely difficult. The sharp dialogue, the snappy pacing, and the already cinematic scene structure are all so very good that there was little reason to go messing with it. In fact, as the story goes, when screenwriter John Huston made the decision to move into directing, Howard Hawks gave him a copy of the book as a potential first project shortly before Huston left on a vacation. Huston handed the book to his secretary and told her to type it up in script format. She did, and it was that initial version straight from the book that was green-lighted by the studio—even before Huston had had a chance to read it.

Huston later made a few minor changes and additions, but one has to wonder if ten years earlier screenwriters Maude Fulton and Brown Holmes didn’t work much the same way, given how much of the 1931 film’s dialogue reappears verbatim in Huston’s—with the notable exception of the Shakespeare quote that closes the latter (a line supposedly suggested by Humphrey Bogart).

Granted, Huston’s film runs twenty minutes longer than Del Ruth’s spiffy 80-minute number (for a number of reasons, including a much larger role for the hapless gunsel Wilmer and an extended final sequence), but nevertheless if you remove the script from the equation, comparing the two films becomes much easier. At that point the remaining important factors are the directors and their styles, and the casts and their performances.

By 1931, Del Ruth was already well underway in a directing career that would find him making comedies, musicals, dramas, Westerns, and even the occasional horror film. Although comedies were his real forte (he would soon direct Lee Tracy in Blessed Event), taking on something like the Hammett novel was not that unusual. He was not a particularly remarkable director, and stylistically his films resembled most other standard films of the day. The scenes were quick, the camera was static, he didn’t have much time for pizzazz. As was the case of so many of the films of the era, his pictures often resembled filmed stage plays. He was on a tight schedule, and as soon as he finished one he had to be on to the next in a couple days. In the end he crafted an entertaining, well-told story, and that’s all the studio and audiences were looking for.

Meanwhile, The Maltese Falcon was going to be Huston’s directorial debut after having solidly established himself as a respected screenwriter. Some of the suits at Warner Brothers were hesitant to let him make the leap, so he had to prove to them he could do it, and approached the film with the kind of energy and big ideas you find with so many first-time directors. Although the film wasn’t as flashy and inventive as Citizen Kane, Huston did pull out a few tricks, like the famed seven-minute take, and the camera work was fluid and energetic. Even if audiences didn’t notice a number of his little flourishes, it was still a very confident film. More importantly, it was an entertaining, well-told story—and that’s what the studio and audiences were really looking for.

(It’s worth noting, however, that Huston’s version was much tamer than Del Ruth’s—perhaps for obvious reasons. In Del Ruth’s version there’s no pussyfooting around the fact that Sam Spade really is having an affair with his partner’s wife. Nor is there any question what happens after Spade accuses Ruth Wonderly/ Brigid O'Shaughnessy of only using money to buy his allegiance.)

What Huston really had on his side was, if not star power exactly, then at least a handful of familiar faces. It might have been Sydney Greenstreet’s film debut, but audiences certainly recognized Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, Elisha Cook, and Bogart. Up until this point of course Bogart had only been a character player, but his star was definitely on the rise, and broke with this film.

Del Ruth, on the other hand, was working with an armload of good, available B actors. Most of them worked regularly, but they weren’t exactly Joan Blondell or Douglas Fairbanks.

It’s in looking at the performances of the two groups that the real differences between the films arises. Take the character of Sam Spade, for instance. Bogart’s performance as the womanizing, sharp tongued private dick always struck me as stiff and stagey—you can almost hear him thinking of each gesture before he makes it, and each line before he speaks it. There’s something tangibly artificial in his performance, the feeling that we really are watching an actor, and moreover one who’s not trying very hard.  Or maybe one who’s letting his stage training get the better of him, thinking the dialogue alone will carry the day. I of course love Bogart, just not here, particularly.

Ricardo Cortez (in reality the NYC-born son of Austrian immigrants) portrayed a much looser, more easy-going Spade, always ready with a quip and forever chasing skirts. He gives a much more relaxed performance that often borders on the straight comic. In spite of the fact that Cortez is much more comfortable in the role, it seems, his Spade is almost out of place here, smirking his way through a double murder investigation.

Seen today, Greenstreet’s   Gutman seems so unique a performance that it immediately became iconic, and a character and performing style he would go on to recreate for the rest of his career. It seems unique anyway, until you see Dudley Digges Gutman from a decade earlier. The similarities between the two performances are shocking. The intonation, vocal tones, the side mutterings, the laughter, the gestures, even the facial expressions are so nearly identical it’s almost as if Greenstreet studied  Digges’ performance closely and decided to recreate it for the remake. Strange thing is, for American character actor Digges, it was a unique role quite unlike anything else he’d played before or would play again. Unless you care to argue that the spirit of the true Kasper Gutman inhabited both actors (and then stayed in Greenstreet), it’s a mighty remarkable coincidence.

One of the more interesting distinctions can be seen in the character of Spade’s secretary, Effie Perine, and more specifically it boils down to a single line reading.

In one of the first and most famous lines of the film, Effie informs Spade that a new client is waiting to see him. In the Huston version, bubbly Lee Patrick says, “You’ll wan to see this one anyway—she’s a knockout!” She seems awfully enthusiastic about it, happy to encourage her boss’s assorted flings. It seems a little odd, but then she spends the rest of the film running errands for Spade and we never give her another thought.

In Del Ruth’s version,  Una Merkel’s Effie does not smile and does not chirp when she says dourly, “You’ll want to see this one anyway. She’s a knockout.”  There’s so much stifled bitterness, frustration, and jealousy in the line that we can read her entire character—almost her whole life—in those few words. And for the rest of the film, whenever Spade asks her to run another errand or do another favor, we know what she’s thinking when she agrees. Thanks to Merkel, Effie becomes the one honestly tragic figure in the entire story, with the possible exception of Wilmer.

As Gutman’s henchman and punk, far be it from me to compare anyone with the great Elisha Cook, Jr.—unless of course it’s the equally great Dwight Frye. Sadly Frye has been given very little to do here except look sullen and angry. In fact he’s only been given a single line of dialogue (“I’ll fog him”). Still, he’s always fun to watch—though admittedly not as much fun here as Cook, who gets to give Bogart a vicious kick in the head.

In the end and over time, the choice of which, if either, version is superior is a simple matter of taste. It does become easier to understand, though, why in the 1950s Del Ruth’s version was redubbed Dangerous Female in order to distinguish it from Huston’s.

by Jim Knipfel

[notsobighiro]

baymax had come to dash with no hesitation, as happy as a robot could be to see a friendly face tonight. but the second he approaches the boy, baymax takes note of the rapid beating of his heart. “your heart is beating at 120 beats per minute,” baymax informs. on the screen in his stomach shows dash the information from his quick medical scan. “i am concerned you have consumed too much sugar.” @dashiel-dash-parr

#🤖 i’m satisfied with my care. (interactions.) #🤖 interactions: dash. #🤖 baymax interactions. #🤖 event: fall festival ‘20.

[fumikomiyasaki]

❰❰ WALL ❱❱ sender pushes the receiver against a wall

Dashiell & Julian

Self-Indulgent

Being in his dorm all the time was boring to him. Like sure it was fun to bother the boss or show off to his dorm mates, but he needed his freedom to just go out and do his own thing. Eventually he didn't feel like doing club activities and so just watch training of the basketball team for a certain player he wanted to cheer for. And cheer for her he did. It was like he was Dashiells personal cheerleader for this. After training he got approached by him a tad annoyed.

"Shouldn't you be at your dance club?"

"Mythra can do a day without me and also, I brought you your favourite~"

Teasingly bending forward he handed him a warm can of coffee just like he wanted to, yet Dashiell put it next to his bag and dragged Julian away from the public crowd to a place that could hardly be seen by other students and pushed him against the wall.

"What are you playing again?"

"Playing? Oh trust me I am serious about winning your heart over, handsome."

"Tch... you really try to hard you know."

Julian smirked and put his hands on his cheek.

"Well you could at least thank me for the coffee, you look like you need it."

With a swift grab he was lifted against the wall for a kiss, an aggresive kiss that even left some blood of Julians lips, just like he likes it... a bit of pain with sensation.

"If you tell anyone again we are dating, you know I won't give you something like this right."

"I know, but there is nothing wrong with cheering for a 'friend', right?"

"*sigh* Fine whatever."

Before he could leave Julian left a small kiss on his neck with a bright grin.

"Hope you finish them off now that you got more energy. I will get back to dance so I can make you mine the next time we are alone."

Dashiell waved him off and got back to his backpack.

"He really is an annoyance but.... at least he does know what he is doing."

Drinking his coffee he was quick to do well the rest of club activity... even if a certain demon didn't leave his mind.

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ocs #twst #disney twst #twst ocs #twistedwonderland #twistedwonderlandoc #julian richter #julian x dashiell

[fearsmagazine]

THE TANGLE - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Indie Rights

SYNOPSIS: A.S.P. (Army of Simply Purity) is a secret government agency that watches over the Tangle from within technology safe rooms, locations impermeable to the nanobots that make up the Tangle. When the A.S.P. field agent Margot Foster is murdered in one of these rooms, an abandoned speakeasy, it’s the first murder in California in three years. The main suspect is Carter Carmine, a private detective, who used to work with the agents of A.S.P. on a program called the Cleopatra Squad. Cleopatra created the Tangle. Married A.S.P. agents Edward Banderas and Laurel Arrow have brought Carter to one of the safe rooms after surgically removing his S.O.L. from his brain. Carter was following Margot just before her murder. He has a motive, and he is one of the few in the world with the technical expertise to hide from the Tangle. The agents use the Tangle information to badger Carter: they know his movements down to the millimeter, down to the millisecond. He is clearly hiding something.

REVIEW: THE TANGLE is a noir driven tale where science fiction is used as the foundation for the plot. Unlike the visually breathtaking film “Blade Runner,” Ridley Scot’s take on Philip K. Dick’s tale “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?,” THE TANGLE is more of a claustrophobic noir piece that focuses on the dynamics of five characters and the mystery surrounding a murder. As the majority of the drama takes place in a single location, and in mostly a single room, there is a feel to the action that made me wonder if it at one point might have been a stage play. There are some interesting exterior locations and the speakeasy where the murder is committed, but those, and a couple of other production designs, feel like window dressing to connect us to this futuristic world.

The key component to THE TANGLE is Christopher Soren Kelly, who not only stars in the film but is also the director, screenwriter, and editor. He clearly understands the material and has the skills to do an excellent job both in front of and behind the camera. The science fiction elements aside, the film feels more like a Dashiell Hammett or Mickey Spillane story. Kelly does a nice job of moving the camera and adding some quick edits to keep the energy flowing. He gets solid performances from his cast that builds tension and maintains the viewer’s engagement. Sometimes the dialogue is laid on a bit thick with the quick wit and baroque barbs from those noir films. There are a few times where it feels a bit much and takes the viewer out of the action for a moment. Overall, Kelley does an impressive job with what he delivers with all the hats he is wearing on this film.

I enjoyed the plot, thought the science fiction element was compelling, and liked how the characters were connected. Other than the self-driving car in the opening of the film or the talk of nanobots, I would say the film has more of a Steampunk feel to it as there are other elements that seem more mechanical or gear heavy, as do the weapons. Enhancing the tone and emotional cues of the film is an excellent score by composer Liam Fox O'Brien. There are movements in the score that feel like they are paying homage to some cinematic sci-fi classics.

Any good science fiction story is at its core and examination of the human condition. Regardless of all the gadgets, flight suits, and flying crafts, the tales address larger issues in a way that allows the reader or viewer to come to grips with it in their daily lives. THE TANGLE presents several issues, including the use of tech as we are currently addressing in our daily lives. It is an important issue even in these pandemic times. I appreciate that Kelly presents these arguments without backing the viewer into a corner or making conclusions for us. He does present the characters in a way that there are consequences for their actions, which gives the film that cautionary aspect. Kelly presents a good story and what he delivers works as a solid piece of cinematic storytelling. Still, I wonder if it might be an even more powerful stage drama.

Having had a chance to digest the film I couldn’t help but wonder at the irony if at some point Kelly had thought of Sir Walter Scott’s famous aphorism, “Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive.”

CAST: Christopher Soren Kelly, Joshua Britton, Nicole da Silva, and Jessica Graham. CREW: Director / Screenplay / Editor - Christopher Soren Kelly; Producers - Jessica Graham & Christopher Soren Kelly; Cinematographer - Robert Muratore; Score - Liam Fox O'Brien; Production Designer - Eric Thorne;Costume Designer - Annie Burdzey; Visual Effects - Adrian Bishop. OFFICIAL: thetanglemovie.com FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/thetangle TWITTER: twitter.com/thetanglemovie / @thetanglemovie TRAILER: https://youtu.be/XjtQVzfOX8c RELEASE DATE: On VOD March 19th, 2021

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay),  or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

#Film Review #movie review #thetangle #thetanglemovie #sci-fi #science fiction #christopher soren kelly #indie rights #joshua britton #nicole da silva #jessica graham #joseph mauceri #joseph b mauceri