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"Vietnam as it really was"

Oliver Stone sprang up in bed and found fear staining his sheets. A dream had startled him awake. He was 16 years out of Viet Nam, but in the dream, "they had shipped me back. Somehow they found me at the age of 38 and sent me back. I woke up in a sweat, in total terror." That was two years ago. Now Stone, who earned a Bronze Star and a MASH unit's worth of physical and emotional wounds in the jungles of Viet Nam, has transformed his war experience -- the bad dream he lived through for 15 months in 1967-68 -- into a film called Platoon. With craft, crackle, a little bombast and plenty of residual rage, he has created a time-capsule movie that explodes like a frag bomb in the consciousness of America, showing how it was back then, over there.

Begin with a birth: a baby-faced soldier, Chris Taylor (Charlie Sheen), is delivered from the womb of a transport plane into the harsh light of Viet Nam. He will find death soon enough: four patrols in the film, four wrenching revelations. On Chris' first night patrol he watches, paralyzed with fear, as the enemy approaches and another new boy dies. On a second patrol the platoon enters a village that might be My Lai; anger goads Chris to spit bullets at the feet of a petrified Vietnamese, and before the day is over the group's leader, Sergeant Barnes (Tom Berenger), has seen to the slaughtering of villagers before the entire place is torched. During a third battle, Barnes tracks down a woods-wise sergeant, Elias (Willem Dafoe), who had interrupted Barnes' massacre, shoots him and leaves him for dead. On the final patrol Chris flips into heroism or psychosis, wipes out a nest of North Vietnamese and confronts the demon he has almost become. End with a murder -- the last of too bloody many.

Welcome to the old nightmare -- the one neither Stone nor the 2.7 million American soldiers who went to Viet Nam can shake. Welcome back to the war that, just 20 years ago, turned America schizophrenic. Suddenly we were a nation split between left and right, black and white, hip and square, mothers and fathers, parents and children. For a nation whose war history had read like a John Wayne war movie -- where good guys finish first by being tough and playing fair -- the polarization was soul-souring. Americans were fighting themselves, and both sides lost.

Platoon pushes the metaphor further, thousands of miles away from the "world," into the combat zones of Nam. Platoon says that American soldiers -- the young men we sent there to do our righteous dirty work -- turned their frustrations toward fratricide. In Viet Nam, Stone suggests, G.I.s re-created the world back home, with its antagonisms of race, region and class. Finding no clear and honorable path to victory in the booby-trapped underbrush, some grunts focused their gunsights on their comrades. The Viet Cong and North Vietnamese army (NVA) were shadowy figures in this family tragedy; stage center, it was sibling riflery. Stone's achievement is to pound and hack this theme into a ripping yarn about a good man, an evil man and an Everyman -- a young, romanticized Oliver Stone -- suspended between them with his life and ideals in the balance. In vivid imagery and incendiary action, Stone's film asks of our soldiers, "Am I my brother's killer?" The answer is an anguished yes.

And a resounding "you bet" to the question, Can a ferocious movie about an unpopular war, filmed on the cheap with no stars and turned down by every major studio, find success, controversy and the promise of an Oscar statuette at the end of the tunnel? In its early limited opening, Platoon is already a prestige hit, and the film shows signs of becoming a blockbuster as it opens across the country over the next three weeks. It has captivated intellectuals, movie buffs and urban grunts -- astonishing, across-the-board appeal for a hellacious sermon. It has ignited a fire storm of debate, from political swamis and Viet vets, on its merits as art and history. It is the fountainhead for a freshet of Viet Nam exploration: We Can Keep You Forever, a BBC documentary about the mystery surrounding MIAs, will be aired Wednesday in 21 U.S. cities, and this spring will see two new movies set in Viet Nam, The Hanoi Hilton and Stanley Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket. In a movie season of Trekkies, Dundees and dentist-devouring houseplants, Oliver Stone has proved that a film can still roil the blood of the American body politic. Platoon the picture is now Platoon the phenomenon.

It is a picture first and foremost, a series of pictures that lodge in the mind with other indelible images of war. The prop wash from a landing helicopter blows the tarpaulins off three bodies, their shrouds torn off, their makeshift graves defiled. In the village, after the slaughter, the soldiers carry Vietnamese children on their shoulders -- G.I. Joes, big brothers to the kids whose village they have just destroyed -- and the soldier who bashed a man's head takes a tourist snapshot of the holocaust. More than any other film, Platoon gives the sense -- all five senses -- of fighting in Viet Nam. You can wilt from the claustrophobic heat of this Rousseauvian jungle; feel the sting of the leeches as they snack on Chris' flesh; hear all at once the chorus of insects, an enemy's approaching footsteps on the green carpet and Chris' heartbeat on night patrol. The film does not glamourize or trivialize death with grotesque special effects. But it jolts the viewer alive to the sensuousness of danger, fear and war lust. All senses must be alert when your life is at stake, and Oliver Stone is an artist-showman who can make movies seem a matter of life and death.

Until Dec. 19, though, when Platoon opened, Hollywood had thought the picture a matter of indifference. It had taken Stone ten hungry years to get the project going. "For two years in the late '70s," says Producer Martin Bregman, "I banged on every door in California to get it done, but at that time Viet Nam was still a no-no." Tom Berenger, the film's showcase psychopath, imagines that "it must have made Stone feel like an old man, carrying the project around for so long. He said it broke his heart." Then something interesting happened: people went for Platoon. Most critics were impressed, many were impassioned, and even those who trashed the picture helped make it the season's top conversation piece. Soon long lines were forming outside the movie's Times Square flagship -- at lunchtime, on weekdays, in the hawk bite of a January wind -- and after midnight in early- to-bed Hollywood. In 74 theaters on the Jan. 9-11 weekend, Platoon averaged more than $22,000, the highest per-screen take of any new film.

In the industry, Stone's old colleagues and fellow directors have laid on their benedictions. Woody Allen calls it a "fine movie, an excellent movie." Says Steven Spielberg: "It is more than a movie; it's like being in Viet Nam. Platoon makes you feel you've been there and never want to go back." James Woods, who starred in Stone's previous film, Salvador, calls him an "artist whose vision transcends politics. Everyone from the ex-hippie to the ex-grunt can be moved by Platoon. And his passion isn't bogus -- he doesn't play Imagine at the end of the film to break people's hearts." Brian De Palma, who filmed Scarface from a Stone script, sees him achieving a volcanic maturity in Platoon: "He has now channeled his feeling and energy into a cohesive dramatic work. He's an auteur making a movie about what he experienced and understands. Seeing Platoon get through the system makes the soul feel good."

With its critical, popular and insider acclaim swelling, Platoon began to shoulder its way toward the front rank of Oscar favorites. By now it would have to be counted as the front runner, and Hollywood is furrowing its back with self-congratulatory pats for making this big bold message movie. To Stone, Hollywood's claim of paternity for Platoon must seem a rich joke. He and Hollywood both know that Platoon -- like The Deer Hunter, Apocalypse Now, The Boys in Company C, The Killing Fields and nearly all the serious movies about the war in Southeast Asia -- secured its major financing from foreign producers. "It was a picture we wanted to support," says John Daly, chairman of Britain's Hemdale Pictures, which also produced Salvador. "We respect Oliver's passions. Besides, he spent only $6 million on Platoon" -- about half the budget of a typical Hollywood film.

The typical film, though, does not provoke a political free-for-all. Many conservatives have taken up arms against Platoon. In the far-right Washington Times' Insight magazine, John Podhoretz castigates it as "one of the most repellent movies ever made in this country." The film, he says, "blackens the name and belittles the sacrifice of every man and woman who served the United States in the Viet Nam War (including Stone)." Politicians are eager to return the salvos. Former Senator Gary Hart, aware of the electorate's fondness for presidential candidates with movie credentials, campaigns for the film by urging that "every teenager in America should see Platoon."

Now ask a man who's been there: David Halberstam, who covered the war for the New York Times and, in The Best and the Brightest, documented two Administrations' slides into the Big Muddy. "Platoon is the first real Viet Nam film," Halberstam proclaims, "and one of the great war movies of all time. The other Hollywood Viet Nam films have been a rape of history. But Platoon is historically and politically accurate. It understands something that the architects of the war never did: how the foliage, the thickness of the jungle, negated U.S. technological superiority. You can see how the forest sucks in American soldiers; they just disappear. I think the film will become an American classic. Thirty years from now, people will think of the Viet Nam War as Platoon."

Neither Sly Stallone nor Oliver Stone can put the whole picture of Viet Nam on a movie screen. There were 2.7 million stories in the naked jungle. Each veteran has his own view of the war, and each will have his own vision of Platoon. More than a few are disturbed by its presentation of a military unit at war with itself. Says Bob Duncan, 39, who served in the 1st Infantry at the same time Stone was in the 25th: "He managed to take every cliche -- the 'baby killer' and 'dope addict' -- that we've lived with for the past 20 years and stick them in the movie about Viet Nam." Says another veteran, Nick Nickelson, 43: "I hope this doesn't bring back those old depictions. God help us, I don't want to go back into a closet again."

Other vets deny the prevalence of dope smoking and the depiction of military officers as either psychos or cowards. But John Wheeler, 42, a veteran who is president of the Center for the Study of the Viet Nam Generation in Washington and chairman of the Viet Nam Veterans Memorial Fund, argues that "there were drug cultures; there were green lieutenants. Stone wanted to clean out the festering part of the wound. The next Viet Nam movie may be the one that tells the whole truth: that we were the best-equipped, best-trained army ever fielded, but against a dedicated foe in an impossible terrain. It was a state-of-the-art war on both sides. But Platoon is a new statement about Viet Nam veterans. Before, we were either objects of pity or objects that had to be defused to keep us at a distance. Platoon makes us real. The Viet Nam Memorial was one gate our country had to pass through; Platoon is another. It is part of the healing process. It speaks to our generation. Those guys are us."

Listen to these guys, and you may suspect that Platoon is not so much a movie as a Rorschach blot. But that is part of the caginess of Stone's approach. The French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard once wrote that when a good film is also a popular film, it is because of a misunderstanding. Platoon could very well be misunderstood into superhit status. The army of Rambomaniacs will love the picture because it delivers more bang for the buck; all those yellow folks blow up real good. Aging lefties can see the film as a demonstration of war's inhuman futility. Graybeards on the right may call it a tribute to our fighting men, in whatever foreign adventure. The intelligentsia can credit Platoon with expressing, in bold cinematic strokes, Stone's grand themes of comradeship and betrayal. And the average youthful moviegoer -- too young to remember Viet Nam even as the living-room war -- may discover where Dad went in the 1960s and why he came home changed or came home in a body bag.

"In any other war, they would have made movies about us too. Dateline: Hell!, Dispatch from Dong Ha, maybe even A Scrambler to the Front . . . But Viet Nam is awkward, everybody knows how awkward, and if people don't even want to hear about it, you know they're not going to pay money to sit there in the dark and have it brought up." So wrote Michael Herr in Dispatches, published in 1977, a year before the first spate of Viet Nam dramas. (The mid-'60s had offered a couple of World War II wheezes disguised as topical films: A Yank in Viet-Nam, so poorly received that it changed its name to Year of the Tiger, and John Wayne's hilariously wrongheaded The Green Berets, with its famous climax of the sun setting in the east.) 1978 brought three pictures -- Coming Home, The Boys in Company C and The Deer Hunter -- that touched on Viet Nam, and the following year Francis Coppola released Apocalypse Now.

Trouble was, most of these films were not about Viet Nam. Coming Home was a disabled-vet love story -- The Best Years of Our Lives with Jon Voight in the Harold Russell role. The Deer Hunter was . . . well, what was it? An incoherent parable about male bonding through Russian roulette. Bats and beautiful, it stood like Ishmael on the prow of its pretensions and declared, "Call me masterpiece." Apocalypse Now was fine as long as it accompanied its doomed, questing hero (played by Martin Sheen, Charlie's father) upstream on the River Styx; then it fogged off into fantasyland with Marlon Buddha. Only Company C, a standard-issue war film about recruits betrayed by their incompetent officers, spent much time in a Nam combat zone. But it really resided, with The Green Berets, in the twilight zone of World War II gestures and bromides.

Hollywood (and not just Hollywood) refused to see that Viet Nam was different. All the old givens -- beau geste, military master plans, unswerving belief in the officer class -- were fatally irrelevant to a guerrilla war. Forget the World War II narrative line of tanks and tactics, which moved with the ponderous sweep of a Golden Age Hollywood plot. Viet Nam, set in jungles without beginning or end, was a flash of episodic, aleatory explosions; it was modernism brought to war. And a new kind of war demanded a new look at the war-movie genre. Platoon fills the bill. It is a huge black slab of remembrance, chiseled in sorrow and anger -- the first Viet Nam Memorial movie.

Though Platoon is a breakthrough, it is not a breakaway. The film is traditional enough to connect with a mass audience. In its story line it holds echoes of Attack!, Robert Aldrich's 1956 psychodrama, in which a World War II infantry company is torn by a mortal struggle between two officers -- one messianic, the other deranged -- while a young man's loyalty hangs in the balance. Platoon's narration, in the form of Chris' letters to his grandmother, is often as stilted and redundant as silent-movie title cards. When a naive new boy shows Chris a photo of his sweetheart, you just know that, in the best '40s-movie fashion, the guy's a goner.

There are darker currents, too, of a passive racism. The black soldiers are occasionally patronized and sentimentalized; they stand to the side while the white soldiers grab all the big emotions. And the Vietnamese are either pathetic victims or the invisible, inhuman enemy. In the scheme of Platoon (and not just Platoon) they do not matter. The nearly 1 million Vietnamese casualties are deemed trivial compared with America's loss of innocence, of allies, of geopolitical face. And the tragedy of Viet Nam is seen as this: not that they died, but that we debased ourselves by killing them.

Of course, Platoon need not be every possible Viet Nam film to be the best one so far. It is enough that Stone has devised a drama of palpable realism that is also a metaphor for the uncivil war that raged in the U.S. and can flare up anytime in any family. Indeed, at the film's molten core is the tug of wills between two strong men, outsize figures of shameless strutting charisma, for parentage of their platoon and for their new recruit, Chris. Barnes, the staff sergeant, could be Chris' legal father; Elias, the romantic renegade, could be a spiritual father, even after his death. They are like Claudius and the Ghost wrestling for Hamlet's allegiance.

Both men are legendary soldiers who have survived long years in Viet Nam -- Elias by a kind of supernal sylvan grace, Barnes by simply refusing to die. Elias is Jesus crossed with Jim Morrison. He will literally take a load off Chris' shoulders, or share a fraternal toke with Chris through the barrel of a rifle, or moon over the night stars, or smile ingenuously at his killer. He is hard to know and harder to destroy, a creature of Stone's wild literary sentiment. Barnes, who says of some fresh corpses, "Tag 'em and bag 'em," has no sentiment at all. When he pulls a steaming metal shard out of a wounded G.I.'s side, it seems as much to display his expertise as to relieve the man's pain. He will do anything to achieve his objective: lead a suicide mission or send his rival on one; murder a village woman in cold blood or taunt his men toward murdering him. Chris, who feels an irresistible kinship to both men, says they were "fighting for possession of my soul." The film's most controversial question is, Who won?

At this point, readers who have not seen Platoon are excused for the next two paragraphs. The others, the grizzled vets, can ponder Chris' motives and actions at the film's climax. He believes (and we know) that Barnes has killed Elias in the jungle. He has already considered taking murderous revenge and been told, "The only thing that can kill Barnes is Barnes." On his last patrol, Chris' suicidal resolve turns him into a mean, obscene fighting machine -- a rifle with a body attached, as reckless as Barnes, as resourceful as Elias -- and he leaves half a dozen NVA in his wake. Now Barnes finds Chris and is ready to kill him when a blast knocks them unconscious. Later Chris revives and finds the injured Barnes ordering him to get a medic. The young man lifts his weapon and, when Barnes says, "Do it," does the bastard in.

In the movie theaters, this illegal shooting usually gets a big hand. Righteous vengeance. Good guy kills bad guy. It is the kind of movie catharsis that may make Platoon a megahit. But can Chris or the audience take moral satisfaction in this deed? Which "father" has he followed? Has Chris become like Elias, back from the grave to avenge his own murder? "You have to fight evil if you are going to be a good man," Stone says. "That's why Chris killed Barnes. Because Barnes deserved killing." Or has he emulated his enemy? Has he become Barnes in order to kill him? Stone has another answer: "I also wanted to show that Chris came out of the war stained and soiled -- all of us, every vet. I want vets to face up to it and be proud they came back. So what if there was some bad in us? That's the price you pay. Chris pays a big price. He becomes a murderer." A good man, and a murderer? It is a tribute to Platoon's cunning that it can sell this dilemma both ways, and a mark of Stone's complexity that he can argue either side and believe both.

The dichotomy was bred in him. Stone was born in 1946, the only child of a Jewish stockbroker and the French Catholic girl he met just after V-E day while serving as a colonel on Eisenhower's staff. Lou Stone wrote a monthly newsletter about economics and politics; his son describes the style as "right-wing Walter Lippmann, a view of the world every month. My father believed that life was hard. The important thing was to make a living." Jacqueline Stone was just the opposite: inexhaustibly sociable, the original bete de fete. "My mother loved movies," Stone says, "and every Monday I'd play hooky, and we'd go see two or three movies. From the start, I had the contradiction in me: my mother's outgoing, optimistic, French side and the dark, pessimistic, Jewish side of my father."

The Stones lived in Manhattan town houses and Stamford, Conn., homes; Oliver went to Manhattan's tony Trinity School and the Hill School in Pottstown, Pa.; he summered with his maternal grandparents and spoke French before he learned English. (From Viet Nam, Oliver would write his grandmother versions of the letters that Chris reads in Platoon.) At five he composed skits for a marionette show, casting his French cousins in the parts. At seven he wrote stories. To earn a quarter for a Classic comic book, he would write a theme each week for his father. And at nine he started work on a book, 900 pages about his family and his life.

Oliver stopped writing the book when he was twelve; the family stopped when Oliver was 16. "The news of their divorce came as a total shock," Stone recalls. "The Hill School headmaster was the one who told me. And when they were divorced, my father gave me the facts of life. He told me that he was heavily in debt. He said, 'I'll give you a college education, and then you're on your own. There's literally no money.' "

Lou Stone never recovered financially. "And yet," his son says, "I think his reversal helped push me to leave my privileged childhood behind. I finished Hill and spent a year at Yale, but I saw myself as a product -- an East Coast socioeconomic product -- and I wanted to break out of the mold. Then I read Lord Jim. Conrad's world was exotic and lush; it exercised a tremendous allure for me." It also propelled Oliver into a teaching job at a Chinese Catholic school in a Saigon suburb. It was 1965, the year a half million Yank soldiers landed in Viet Nam, and Stone was 18 years old. "I woke up in Asia," he says, "and it became an orphan home for me. It was everything I thought it would be: the heat, the green seas, the bloodred sunsets. In Saigon, the G.I.s from the 1st Infantry Division were just arriving. There were guys walking around with pistols, no curfews, shoot-outs in the streets. The place was like Dodge City."

Itinerary for a young wanderluster: on a merchant marine ship from Saigon to Oregon; in Guadalajara, Mexico, writing 400 pages of a novel; back to Yale, then dropping out a second and last time to concentrate on his writing. The book was now 1,400 pages. "It started out as a boy's suicide note -- not that I was going to commit suicide, but I was very depressed. It was Jack London- type experiences in a Joycean style. Totally insane, with great passages of lyricism here and there. I thought it was the best thing since Rimbaud. And when Simon & Schuster rejected it, I gave up. I threw half the manuscript in the East River and said, 'My father is right. I'm a bum.' I felt the solution was total anonymity. I had to atone. So I joined the Army. They'd cut my hair, and I'd be a number. To me the American involvement was correct. My dad was a cold warrior, and I was a cold-war baby. I knew that Viet Nam was going to be the war of my generation, and I didn't want to miss it. I must say, my timing was impeccable." If the young man had failed as Rimbaud, he might make it as Rambo.

Nope. "My first day in Viet Nam," Stone says, "I realized, like Chris in Platoon, that I'd made a terrible mistake. It was on-the-job training: Here's your machete, kid; you cut point. You learn if you can, and if not you're dead. Nobody was motivated, except to get out. Survival was the key. It wasn't very romantic." Each of the three combat units he served in was divided into antagonistic groups, as in the film: "On one side were the lifers, the juicers ((heavy drinkers)) and the moron white element. Guys like Sergeant Barnes -- and there really was a sergeant as scarred and obsessed as Barnes -- were in this group. On the other side was a progressive, hippie, dope- smoking group: some blacks, some urban whites, Indians, random characters from odd places. Guys like Elias -- and there really was an Elias, handsome, electric, the Cary Grant of the trenches. They were out to survive this bummer with some integrity and a sense of humor. I fell in with the progressives -- a Yale boy who heard soul music and smoked dope for the first time in his life."

Most of Platoon's starkest events come from Stone's backpack of Viet Nam memories. "I saw the enemy for the first time on my first night ambush," he recalls, "and I froze completely. Thank God the guy in the next position saw them and opened up. The ensuing fire fight was very messy. I was wounded in the back of the neck -- an inch to the right and I'd have been dead -- and the guy next to me had his arm blown off." He emptied his rifle clip at a man's feet, as Charlie does in the movie. "He wouldn't stop smiling," says Stone, "and I just got pissed off and lost it. But I did save a girl who was being raped by two of the guys; I think they would've killed her. I went over and broke it up. Another kid -- he's like Bunny ((Kevin Dillon)) in the movie -- clubbed this old lady to death and then kind of boasted about it. We killed a lot of innocents."

The battle at the end of the film was based on a New Year's Day skirmish less than a mile from the Cambodian border. "They hit us with about 5,000 troops that night. They laid bombs right on top of us; we dropped bombs right on them. It's possible that our high command was using us as bait to draw the Viet Cong out so we could inflict heavy casualties. We lost about 25 dead and 175 wounded; we killed about 500 of them. Their bodies were scraped up by bulldozers, just like in the movie. For that battle our platoon was on the inner perimeter, but two weeks later we went back into the same area and got hit by an ambush, like the one that gets Elias. We took about 30 casualties, and I don't think we got one of them."

For all the horrors of his season in hell, Stone admits he got what he went for, as a budding artist ravenous for material in the raw: "I saw combat at the ground level. I saw people die. I killed. I almost was killed. Almost immediately I realized that combat is totally random. It has nothing to do with heroism. Cowardice and heroism are the same emotion -- fear -- expressed differently. And life is a matter of luck. Two soldiers are standing two feet apart. One gets killed, the other lives. I was never a religious person -- I was raised Protestant, the great compromise -- but I became religious in Viet Nam. Possibly I was saved for a reason. To do some work. Write about it. Make a movie about it."

It would take Stone almost a decade, until 1976, before he could write the script of Platoon, and another decade to put it on the screen. But first he had to take his high, wired act on the road. The same month he arrived back from Viet Nam, he was busted for carrying an ounce of marijuana across the Mexico-U.S. border, and called his father, saying, "The good news is that I'm out of Viet Nam. The bad news is that I'm in a California jail, facing five to 20." Stone says his father helped get the charges dropped. "That was my homecoming," he says. "I got a true picture of the States. I hated America. I would have joined the Black Panthers if they'd asked me. I was a radical, ready to kill." Back home his mother noticed the change: "As a little boy he was impeccable. He had his valet; his closet was immaculate. But when he returned he was a mess, always leaving things on the floor. He was a different boy."

And now an unsolicited testimonial: "I know it sounds corny, but I was saved by film school." He enrolled at New York University on the G.I. Bill. "To be able to study movies in college, it was any movie buff's dream. It was cool too, like studying to be an astronaut. Martin Scorsese was my first teacher. He was like a mad scientist, with hair down to here. He was someone on an equal wave of nuttiness. And he helped channel the rage in me." Stone made a short film for Scorsese's class called Last Year in Viet Nam, about a vet wandering the New York streets; in another, Michael and Marie, Oliver's father played the victim. "Oliver was alienated, sarcastic and brooding," says his film-school friend Stanley Weiser, who is collaborating with Stone on a script about Wall Street crime. "A real macho man who carried the torture of Viet Nam with him but never talked about it."

In 1971 Stone graduated and married a Lebanese woman working at the Moroccan delegation to the United Nations; they divorced five years later. He wrote eleven scripts in his spare time, directed a low-budget Canadian thriller called Seizure, and in 1975 got an agent through the graces of Screenwriter Robert Bolt. A year later, as the tall ships clogged New York harbor, Stone sat down and wrote Platoon. "Essentially what I wanted to say was, Remember. Just remember what that war was. Remember what war is. This is it. I wanted to make a document of this forgotten pocket of time. I felt Viet Nam was omitted from history books. Like a battle I fought in during the war: a lot of people got hurt that day, and it wasn't even listed as a battle by the Army, as if they didn't want to admit the casualties we suffered. The script I wrote is pretty much the one I shot ten years later. But no studio wanted to make it; it was too 'depressing' and 'grim.' So I buried it again, figuring that the truth of that war would never come out because America was blind, a trasher of history."

A wild man who becomes a witness: that was Oliver Stone reborn. As he scythed his way through the Hollywood jungle, Stone earned the rep of a specialist with a social agenda. Four of the scripts that bear his name -- Midnight Express, Scarface, Year of the Dragon and 8 Million Ways to Die -- cataloged the seductive evils of the drug trade. Stone's third feature as writer-director (after Seizure and, in 1981, The Hand) laced his usual hip rants on pharmacology with a smart, anguished newsphoto montage of one more Third World nation torn by civil war and shadowed by the looming hulk of American weaponry. This was the gallivanting political melodrama Salvador. Stone dedicated the film to his recently deceased father. "I remember one conversation we had right before he died. He said, 'You'll do all right. There'll always be a demand for great stories and great storytellers.' So finally he forgave me for going into the film business."

In Salvador, Stone was learning to wind the cinematic mechanism until it coiled with productive tension, both on the screen and on the set. "Working with Stone was like being caught in a Cuisinart with a madman," James Woods opines. "And he felt the same about me. It was two Tasmanian devils wrestling under a blanket. But he's a sharp director. He starts with a great idea, delegates authority well, scraps like a street fighter, then takes the best of what comes out of the fracas." Says Dale Dye, the Marine captain who hazed Platoon's actors to firm them up for filming: "Oliver thrives on chaos, throwing together a crew of such diverse backgrounds and ideologies that there's constant friction. It's the kind of energy he thrives on." Platoon's star, Charlie Sheen, 21, found the director "brutally honest. Which is why we clicked. After a scene he'd say, 'You sucked' or 'You nailed it.' That's just my style."

Right now Stone is Hollywood's hot new guy. He is even entertaining the improbable idea of a Platoon TV series. But don't expect Stone to direct Indiana Jones III. Says Stanley Weiser: "Oliver's been around the block ten times and won't be seduced by money. He's not an easy lay." Stone and his second wife, Elizabeth, 37, look the family-album picture of swank domesticity in their Santa Monica home. They swore off drugs a few years ago, and now seem addicted only to each other and their little son Sean. "Success and Sean have made Oliver much mellower," Elizabeth notes. "But he's still a compulsive worker. Always reading or writing, he simply loves ideas. He's filled with them, and he's thrilled with them."

One suspects that the old troublemaker will find new trouble spots in the political landscape; the soapbox spieler will continue his spellbinding harangues. His mind and moral sense are too restless to relax in the glow of celebrity and the promise of statuettes. But for the moment, Oliver Stone has found for himself the one plot twist he would never have put in Platoon: a happy ending to his Viet Nam nightmare.

-Richard Corliss, Time magazine cover story, Jan 26 1987 [x]

#oliver stone #platoon #the vietnam war #time magazine #cover story #ptsd #richard corliss

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amorremanet · 7 years

Note

10 facts about Sara Grace?

“ten facts about my characters” meme

1. Her birthday is March 20th, 1993 — she was born on the Pisces side of the Pisces/Aries cusp (the Cusp of Renewal), on the day that The Secret Language of Birthdays (Gary Goldschneider & Joost Elffers) calls, “The Day of the Labyrinth.”

Unlike most of the other characters (whose opinions on astrology differ but largely boil down to, “It’s silly, but it’s harmless”), Sara Grace actually cares about it and kind of does believe in it. She can’t decide if she agrees with the, “It’s silly” crowd, if she genuinely believes, or if she wants to believe in it so much that she’s made herself feel like she genuinely believes.

2. She and Lucy have been dating for a little over two years by the time they get introduced about midway through the first book, and Sara Grace…… she doesn’t NOT care about their anniversary? But she puts more effort into their matching Halloween costumes.

Their first Halloween together (2013), she was the fem!Mulder and Lucy was Scully.

Last year (2014), Sara Grace was Ariel and Lucy was her “kinda experimenting with butch but really unsure of herself in it and also trying not to be too obviously gay because her parents are on Facebook and privacy settings are a crapshoot” fem!Eric.

This year, they’re planning to go as Lady and Lady Macbeth — i.e., Sara Grace will be the Lady Macbeth we all know as Lady Macbeth, and Lucy will be her “still unsure about this butch thing but curious and trying it out” fem!Macbeth.

Mulder and Scully was a joint idea, inspired by one of the sororities on their campus holding a, “dress as your favorite 90’s TV characters”-themed Halloween party, but the other two Halloween costumes were all Sara Grace’s idea.

3. Her full given name is Sara Grace Nichelle Kelley — with “Sara Grace” being a double-name like “Mary Ellen” or, “Seung Gil” or so on. Her mother picked all of it out, Nichelle for Nichelle Nichols (…because Amanda is an old school Trekkie), and “Sara Grace” because she always wanted to name her first daughter, “Sara Grace,” and then thought it was extra amusing after she married Bryce Kelley, because the spelling might be different, but it made her name sound like the better-known maiden name of Princess Grace of Monaco.

Sara Grace herself has mixed feelings about this. Like, on one hand, it made using her full given first name hard to successfully do when she was in trouble because Amanda and Bryce never stopped kind of finding the, “Grace Kelley” part of their first daughter’s name hilarious (and “Sara Grace Nichelle Kelley” is admittedly kind of a mouthful, so it also wasn’t ideal for when she was in trouble).

But on the other hand, it’s made Sara Grace kind of hate things like going to the DMV or filling out forms, because other people will notice the, “Grace Kelley” thing and find it funny or cool, and yeah, it was pretty cool for a while when she was younger — especially because she totally wanted to be a princess when she grew up and still kind of has a Thing for princesses, and hey, her Mom named her after a real life princess, kind of — but now, it’s just tedious.

Like, please, she’s either “Sara Grace” or, “Ms. Kelley,” not the full thing, if it can be avoided, please, please, please.

(And this isn’t an in-universe fact, but OOCly, Sara Grace was named for my older goddaughter, and her surname came from my aunt [who is the mother of both of my goddaughters], I just added the ‘E’ because I’ve always seen, “Kelley” more often for when it’s a surname, and then I read the whole thing and saw the “Grace Kelly” business and went, “lmao, I’m keeping it”)

4. Sara Grace’s mutant superpowers are primarily based in either speed and, well, grace (as in: balance, equilibrium, steadiness, etc), OR in sound.

She’s not quite a potentially game-breaking speedster on the level of the Flash or XMCU!Quicksilver, but a big reason for this is that she hasn’t ventured out into mutant superheroics. Up until she makes the choice to do that in the story, she’s been one of the mutants who just want to go to school or work, hang out with their friends, watch The Daily Show or whatever they like, and live their lives without all of the crime-fighting stuff — so, she hasn’t trained everything up as much as she could do.

What this means is that…… yeah, she’s still fast, and it still falls outside three standard deviations of the human mean, even though she’s not a trained sprinter or anything (which is the most common test for, “is this thing a mutant superpower or is someone just really good at whatever they’re doing”), but she’s not as fast as she could be and doesn’t always have the hang of things like stopping, maneuvering at high speeds, not getting hit in the face by insects, etc.

Her biggest reason why she initially didn’t want to run headlong into superheroics came down to protecting and taking care of herself, because her abilities have serious downsides that can be difficult for her to manage and that can be really stress-inducing. But they’re also going to be under the read-more because they involve why it sucks to be a speedster who’s struggled with eating disorders.

Her sonic powers are a bit more trained up, partly because it’s easier to do that without getting on the wrong side of what she is and isn’t allowed to do with her class of superpower license — and partly because, although she’s primarily a dancer, she does love to sing and she’s usually pretty vocally expressive.

For the most part, she tends to limit her use of these powers to the ones that have cool potential uses but are a lot less awesome than, say, debilitating super-screams (which she can do, but would usually prefer not to, not least because she’s not trained up in it so she can’t really control it).

Like, one of her favorite party tricks and “getting to know you” ice-breakers is admitting she’s a mutant just enough to do a perfect imitation of different celebrity voices (as in, “you could have experts compare a legit recording of any given celebrity to Sara Grace’s superpowered recreation of their voice, and the experts would almost definitely NOT be able to tell the difference, because superpowers”)

Lucy first noticed her because Sara Grace was at a party being hosted by mutual friends, and during some game that Lucy wasn’t actually participating in, one of the other players asked Sara Grace to do a William Shatner voice and read some selection for a purple prose-y bodice ripper…… and she did, and it was awesome, and Lucy had to go find out who that girl was, holy shit

But yeah. All up, Sara Grace has the potential to be a serious power-house — she’s not going to get quite to Flash-levels of game-breaking speedster, but that’s on the world-building, not her, because there are some things that super-speedsters can do that I’m just not letting anybody do — but when she’s first introduced, she lacks training.

Even without training, she shouldn’t be dismissed as a possible threat (which Conrad is going to do, but in fairness, the only team members he sees as potential threats are Seb and Josie, because Josie is a telepath like Conrad and ruling Josie out as a threat might require Conrad to admit that maybe he’s not that great, and if you ask Conrad, Seb can’t overpower him or get any kind of jump on him, not least since he’s proven himself to be incredibly vulnerable to telepathy, but he might ruin things with his insistence on refusing all of Conrad’s offers to team up as proper nemeses in the name of the Greater Good and by being all concerned about other people and shit)

Like, seriously. If you ask Conrad: Todd, Stephen, Margot, and Pete are in no way threats to him because none of them is a mutant, and the only reason that he deigns to acknowledge them at all is that Sebastian insists on being a bleeding heart weirdo and won’t let Conrad ignore them

Lucy isn’t a threat to him because she’s inexperienced and confused and more likely to hurt herself than anyone else because she tries to run headlong into things like she lives in a Silver Age comic book and then gets in over her head and reality kicks her in the shins and takes her lunch money

Alexandra isn’t a threat because her ability to resist any telepathic attacks isn’t as strong as Conrad assumed it was at first, and she tries harder to stick to the rules than any of the other major cast members, save Holmes, who kinda has to respect the rules because he’s the resident boss man

(—this is not actually true of Alex, and the fact is that she favors her own personally determined code of ethics over externally imposed rules, but Conrad is wrong about a lot of things, so…… his opinions are just bad in general, so it’s not exactly weird that he’s wrong about Alex)

Julian, Annie, and Dylan aren’t threats because they’re on the same team as Conrad, despite all of them having some major disagreements and differences of opinion with him, and even when S.T.R.O.M.A. gets Dylan (which they would not have done if not for Conrad tipping Julian and Annie off about a bust that S.T.R.O.M.A. and the DEA are collaborating on, but completely forgetting Dylan as more than, “Julian’s sidekick who constantly looks like he’s only two seconds off from crying, whatever, Julian will handle it”), Conrad doesn’t think it’s any kind of problem because he assumes that these three are his minions and that, all disagreements aside, their loyalty is absolute

This………… really doesn’t work out so well

And you’d think that Conrad might get a reality check after getting arrested before Julian does and before Annie is even properly on the radar as more than, “one of the daughters of that one douchebag who’s trying to get the Republican nomination; she’s the party girl to her eldest sister’s Responsible Adult With A Cool Head and her twin’s, ‘well she wants to think she’s a serious journalist but lbr she just has a webshow where she yells at people and throws a lot of conservative buzzwords around like she knows what she’s talking about’”

—and you would be wrong. Like, yeah, you would be completely wrong.

But Conrad’s refusal to get a reality check is a totally different story

and Sara Grace isn’t a threat to him because she’s nothing but a pretty face with an anxiety disorder, who’s too scared of her true, untapped power to use it, even in the name of the Greater Good, and too scared of her own potential to accomplish anything, and probably just pretending to be a lesbian because she wants to piss off her parents or she thinks it makes her more interesting to guys or something

………Actually, Amanda and Bryce have never been anything but completely supportive, and Sara Grace has no interest in making men find her interesting because (and this gets complicated, Conrad, so you might want to sit down) she is not attracted to men

But, again, Conrad’s opinions are usually fifty shades of wrong and gross, so him dismissing Sara Grace as a potential threat because she’s untrained and has an anxiety disorder is just another example of him being completely full of shit

5. Okay, so. I want to try to keep this one brief, because I’m doing it last and this post is already long enough that it’s starting to make Firefox lag on me while I’m typing and there’s a lot of potential angst in this post already. But one of the things that a lot of people don’t acknowledge about a lot of superpowers, especially speedy powers, is that it’d take a LOT of calories to fuel those. Even in some works where they do deal with it, they underestimate just how much energy it would actually take.

To be fair, I’m not going to manage this perfectly either because at a certain point, you have to suspend some parts of real-world physics and biology to make superpowers work, and it’s just not feasible to have almost all of your mutant heroes and villains constantly hooked up to IV lines so that they don’t die of malnutrition by simply existing while having superpowers

But I am going to deal with it more than a lot of superhero stuff tends to do, and Sara Grace is one of the characters who has more problems with it than average.

The big reason why she has more problems than average is that before her mutant abilities fully manifested (which was when she was about 17), she dealt with an eating disorder. This is also a big reason why she wound up not going into dance professionally, because one of her biggest triggers was how much pressure she felt to force her body to fit certain ideals and standards — and dude, she’s 5’10” and has been really tall for her entire life, so it was even harder to do this, because she was basically trying to restrict her diet and starve herself down to a weight that would’ve been on the low side for someone with her build who was six inches shorter

—but by the time her mutant superpowers started to manifest in full, Sara Grace had actually done really well in her therapy and treatment (and unlike some of the other characters who’ve dealt with similar kinds of struggles, whether ED’s or the more general, “problem where there’s some very obvious unhealthy manifestation that needs to get dealt with, but there are a lot of underlying emotional issues you need to address too”), and she had gotten to a place where she felt more or less okay…… and suddenly, superpowers everywhere

Like, it was hard enough for her to adjust her diet and her routines to accommodate the most basic-level, “existing with superpowers even if you don’t really use them that often” stuff, and then she knew she’d have to be adjusting to college in the near future — and she really, really didn’t want to end up in a hardcore relapse

So, from her perspective, the choices here kind of boiled down to, “You can get more training and a license that lets you be what is basically a superhero and help people, but do it at the expense of your own health,” and, “You can pass on that and take care of yourself” — and she picked taking care of herself

By the time she gets another choice to get involved in mutant superheroics or not, Sara Grace is at a more secure place than she was at 17/18, and she’s going to acknowledge that this is a potential risk but it’s one that she feels up to handling.

She’s not going to be wrong, but it’s going to be a mixed bag for her, mostly because…… well. She’s a human being and this means that she can’t perfectly predict anything, so there are some things that she’s prepared to deal with, some that she knew might happen and wasn’t entirely prepared for but she’s better equipped to handle them than she would’ve been back at 17/18, and some that totally blindside her

But she’s going to grow and deal with things because…… well, that’s what fictional characters do

6. Her top three favorite songs for karaoke night are “I Will Survive,” “Baby One More Time,” and “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” (if she can get Lauryn Hill’s version of it, then awesome, but if not, then any version of it will work just fine)

She has learned, however, that she should not try to sing “Freakum Dress” at karaoke while tipsy.

Honestly, the conclusion that Sara Grace should’ve drawn from the incident that led to that lesson? Was, “don’t try to do some complicated dance moves in hella high heels while so drunk that most other people would be flat on their asses, which for you means that you’re too drunk to pay attention to where your feet are, so you get tangled in the wires and fall over in the middle of your song”

But she was singing “Freakum Dress” at the time, and while she doesn’t generally do karaoke night while drunk most of the time anyway, she primarily took it to, “Don’t do drunk karaoke with ‘Freakum Dress’ as your song” because if you ask her, she only tried to do such complicated dance moves because she was singing “Freakum Dress”

That…… isn’t necessarily true, but it’s also not entirely untrue, either? It felt true to her at the time, at least.

She has also learned that making Lucy do a duet of, “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart” won’t work exactly how she imagined that it would, because Lucy isn’t quite tone-deaf? But she can’t really sing that well, either, and in Sara Grace’s daydream that led to her doing this, they sounded great and had perfect harmonies and it was totally awesome…… but in reality, Lucy was off-beat and off-key, her tone wasn’t that great, and it was still pretty fun, but okay, her girlfriend can’t sing, lesson learned

7. She wouldn’t call herself the, “selfie queen,” exactly…… but literally only because she would prefer to be the, “selfie princess,” because yeah, okay, she has adult goals and dreams now (she’s working toward becoming a therapist with a specialty in art therapy), but she still kinda wants to be a princess when she grows up

8. As far as superpowers licenses go, Sara Grace has one that has more allowance for power incontinence and for using her abilities in to help out in emergency situations, but that is closer to the, “I’m seriously not going to do more than use heat vision to reheat my coffee, I don’t want this and would prefer to ignore it”

Power incontinence is like… okay, example: if Superman were minding his own business but one of his Kryptonian allergies got aggravated and he sneezed out ice breath or something? That would be power incontinence.

The term, in-universe, is usually used to cover things that might happen when someone can’t fully control their powers (e.g., Seb has to work to figure out what makes La Bête tick and get control over his beast-mode shifts)

or things that might happen in highly stressful situations (e.g., Josie usually has their telepathic and empathic abilities pretty well-controlled but can start slipping when they’re dealing with a lot of shit if they aren’t properly taking care of themself emotionally; and Yael might be in her eighties and one of the most respected mutants on the planet, but she still has a tendency to make electronics with magnetic parts start malfunctioning when she gets really angry)

This comes in handy because it covers things like all the times when Sara Grace doesn’t mean to rely on her super-attuned send of balance but she also can’t really turn it off

Like, if she were ever in the position to do so (which she doesn’t plan to be, but that’s another story), she could pass the physical parts of field sobriety test while totally drunk, but she’d stumble on anything that involves any talking to the officer

Because her body might be way more stable than it should be but that won’t rein in how easily distracted she gets when she’s drunk (like… no, honey, the officer did not ask for you to do your dramatic reenactment of Det. Olivia Benson’s entire personal history through wherever you are in watching SVU if you aren’t up to date on it, complete with doing Mariska Hargitay’s voice, and this really isn’t helpful)

…and being able to walk in a straight line while her head is reeling and her perception is distorted doesn’t mean that she won’t be slurring her words

—And if she had a more restrictive license, she could get in trouble for relying on her super-balance in this situation because in most places, “using superpowers to pass a field sobriety test, even if you don’t actually pass it” would count as more than, “I just want to go home and use heat vision to reheat my coffee”

Not that this means that having coverage in her license type is a guarantee for her or anybody, because unfortunately, as we already know, way too many cops in the U.S. are complete fuck-wads against anyone who isn’t a straight, non-disabled, gender-conforming white guy

And since Sara Grace is a black femme lesbian who has mutant superpowers and no arrest record but some past involvement in protests and social activism, she would personally rather not test whether or not any given cops would be deterred from trying to charge her for violating the terms of her superpowers license by the fact that hers covers her super-balance because she cannot turn it off

Her introductory scene is actually going to address these fears, somewhat. See, Sara Grace and Lucy are brought into the story’s narrative on October 15th, 2015 — a Thursday evening, which they had planned to spend at an open-air concert at a park in Baltimore, and then they wanted to go back to Lucy’s together because she’s lived at home after their graduation in May, but her parents are out of town and the only other member of the Murphy family who might come around is Damien, who already knows that Lucy and Sara Grace are together.

Incidentally, that Thursday evening was also going to be date-night for Seb and Stephen, who were going to the symphony because Seb’s parents had tickets that they couldn’t use and eldest brother Max would need a third for his daughter (and for the show to not be at 8PM on a school night), sister Addie doesn’t have anyone she’d actually want to take, and middle brother Ambrose moved to Vermont when he got a job teaching at a private school up there. Much like Lucy and Sara Grace, Seb and Stephen really just wanted to have a nice time together.

Sucks for them, though, because there was a supervillain attack at the concert.

I’m still hammering out the exact details of what actually happens in said attack, but the really important point, plot-wise, is that the perp (who wound up apprehended pretty quickly) wasn’t acting of his own free will, but had gotten telepathically taken over and forced to do it by everyone’s least favorite douchebag, Conrad.

That’s not immediately apparent, though, and for the time being, Sara Grace is more concerned with the shit that’s going on right now — a list that includes:

how she used her powers to try and get some of the other civilians out of harm’s way

how the supervillain of the day tried to stop her and wound up with damaged eardrums because Sara Grace screamed and couldn’t control how powerful it was

(it’s frankly a miracle that it only hurt the supervillain, since one of the potential risks of sonic abilities is how they can affect people other than the intended target and Sara Grace wasn’t consciously targeting anyone)

how she and Lucy wound up incapacitating the villain long enough for cops to get him in cuffs so they could eventually hand him off to S.T.R.O.M.A. officials (which is a GOOD thing, yes, and this kind of situation should fall under the emergency provisions that Sara Grace’s license has, but she’s incredibly wary and also kind of an anxious mess following all of this, so that wariness gets magnified by a power of ten)

and how Lucy did so with powers she didn’t even know she had, got injured in the process, and then passed out while her healing factor kicked in, but was still injured enough to get stitches after getting taken to the hospital

So, suffice it to say, Sara Grace is not exactly in the best and calmest state of mind when a beautiful dark-skinned woman (who kind of looks like she’d gotten home, taken off her work clothes, gotten relaxed, and then abruptly had to throw them back on…… largely because that is exactly what happened to Alex tonight) asks her to please leave her girlfriend’s bedside for a couple minutes, then brings her into the hallway, where she introduces Sara Grace to a really tall white guy in a nice suit and another white person who’s only slightly taller than Sara Grace, looks more like a guy than not, and has barely-noticeable lace on the trim of their collar, and all three of them pull out S.T.R.O.M.A. identification

Like, her immediate fear here is, “Oh, shit, are you going to arrest me, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I, hey, I can cite all the rules that say what I did was okay, I keep up on all of this…… did I do anything wrong? Did my screaming hurt someone else or something? What’s going on?”

……Actually, based on all the witnesses they’ve already heard from, Alex, Josie, and Seb are not even thinking of bringing Sara Grace into custody for anything. They more or less get why she’s scared (given that Alex and Josie have both dealt with S.T.R.O.M.A. officials being seriously unethical about recruitment and making it seem like they had to accept recruitment or get slapped with charges for violating their licenses, they’re REALLY not interested in doing that to someone else, especially not a terrified girl who’s trying really, really hard to talk tough and not doing as well as she could if she weren’t currently an anxious mess)

They’re literally just here to (loosely in order, but it’s really not official): 1. see if Sara Grace and Lucy are alright, or as alright as they can be after this horrible experience (which, frankly, most people aren’t prepared for because most supervillains don’t do this kind of out-in-the-open, Silver Age bullshit);

2. thank both of them for their assistance in saving lives and preventing more injuries and destruction;

3. collect their statements about the evening’s events, which neither of them is not obligated to give but they’d appreciate it anyway (and Sara Grace in particular has Alex’s promise that, whatever Sara Grace decides, Alex will do everything that she can to make sure that no one twists that choice to use it against her when she acted like a heroine tonight and should be praised, not punished);

and 4. offer them some information on counseling services, if they want it.

Like, the reason why Seb heads in to see Lucy alone is that Sara Grace does decide to share her recollection of what happened, but she’s still pretty tense as she tells it, so Josie asks if she’d feel more comfortable going to a different room, rather than a sofa in a visitors’ lounge, but her response is that she’d feel more comfortable if it was one-on-one or two-on-one, instead of three-on-one

Since Seb is standing, and more so because he’s the tall white guy, who Sara Grace can’t get a read on right away, so she’s not sure how she feels about him right now and, at the moment, that makes her feel uneasiest about him being around, Josie asks him to go see if the evening’s other heroine is alright and up for a talk

And Seb doesn’t mind because…… hey, if it makes Sara Grace feel a little less ill-at-ease after what she just went through? Then it’s not a big deal. He might mind a little more if he knew exactly who he’s going to see, but he literally only heard that Sara Grace’s girlfriend is named Lucy (which is a common enough name that he doesn’t even think, “Oh, she could be the Lucy who I used to know”)

—But this is only about four months after he went through his own episode of, “suddenly, superpowers everywhere, then S.T.R.O.M.A. gets involved and oh holy shit,” so while he’s definitely not in the same boat as Sara Grace, he appreciates that her comfort > his, right now

So, yeah.

Sara Grace is going to spend her introductory scene being an anxious mess and trying to keep it together, only to probably succeed for a while and then end up crying on either Alex or Josie, because she’s 22 and even after being reassured that she is absolutely not in trouble, she’s just had a very stressful evening when it was supposed to be a relaxing night with her girlfriend without Lucy’s Mom and Dad there to be homophobic and force the two of them to act like they’re Just Gals Being Pals, Totally Not Lesbians Or Dating Each Other, Nope, and she’s scared for herself and scared for her girlfriend and now that she’s thought about the idea that her scream could’ve hurt an innocent person, she’s scared that it might’ve happened, and jesus fucking christ, she’s a champ for making it all the way through her statement to Josie and Alex before she cries, I’d like to see any hypothetical naysayers do better in her position

9. Although she didn’t go into dancing professionally, like she wanted to when she was younger, dancing is still one of her favorite forms of stress-relief. Much like how Lucy sometimes hits a wall where she needs to tap out and go play Tetris until she can handle things like an adult again, Sara Grace hits walls where she needs to tap out and go work out her feelings and clear her head, and she prefers to do so with dancing, when she can.

Oddly enough, her love for dance made people think that she might be autistic when she was younger, even though she isn’t, while Lucy, who actually is autistic, went completely unnoticed

See, one of the more common and easily noticeable stims that kids on the spectrum engage in sometimes? Is walking on your toes for no reason that makes itself readily apparent to allistic adults.

Sara Grace, as a kid, wasn’t actually trying to walk on her toes. She was just in love with her kiddie ballet lessons, to the point that she turned every moment when no one stopped her into an excuse to practice something that she’d learned in class, and it sometimes looked like she was walking on her toes to the adults who had no idea what was going on.

Which led to her parents getting her tested, and granted, those tests are by no means 100% reliable…… but in this case, when the psychologist who talked to Sara Grace went, “Yeah, she isn’t autistic, she’s just really into her dancing and invested in giving it her all,” Dr. So-and-So happened to be right

10. She’s a cat person. If she could have a hundred cats without it becoming an issue for some reason, she would totally have a hundred cats, and then probably try to have more.

As it stands, she already has two of them — a tabby shorthair named Valerie (whether she named Val after the Zutons’ song or Valerie Brown of Josie and the Pussycats will depend on when you ask her, because Sara Grace has said both things before, as well as, “I don’t know, I just thought she felt like a Valerie, y’know?”) and a fluffy black longhair named Peppermint Patty (who doesn’t look like the Peanuts character and the resemblance between them is only apparent to Sara Grace, but when she found Patty at the shelter, she went, “You remind me of Peppermint Patty, that’s your name now”)

—and about the only reason she doesn’t have more babies is that it would cost money, and her current internship may not be unpaid but it still doesn’t pay very well. (Strictly speaking, the cousins she lives with would prefer it if she didn’t try to bring another cat home because of space concerns, but Sara Grace insists that she could find a way to make it work.)

Like, seriously? Much like Seb isn’t usually allowed to go to an ASPCA shelter alone because he might try to adopt yet another dog (even though he already has six and would have seven if his Chewie hadn’t passed away in March 2015), Sara Grace is not allowed near a shelter without a chaperone because she might try to do the same with kitties. When they get to know each other, they won’t be allowed to act as chaperones either, because Margot, Lucy, and Pete correctly assume that they’d enable each other, rather than act as impulse control.

Stephen is sorta kinda allowed to act as chaperone, but only for one of them at a time. It could be either one (though he’d have an easier time telling Sebastian that he doesn’t need another dog, simply because…… dude. six. it’s enough, you’re good.)

(Also, while Stephen likes all of his boyfriend’s dogs, he’s somewhat less fond of things like, “accidentally startling a nine-pound Yorkie because Achilles decided to take a nap on top of Stephen while he was taking a nap and Stephen didn’t notice”

or, “being woken up by a corgi-husky crossbreed trying, maybe succeeding but maybe not, to jump up into bed with Seb and Stephen, and trying to make Stephen come play with him, because Oscar has decided that Stephen is the new non-Seb favorite (at least, he’s tied with Seb’s Mom) and no, no, no, it’s not time for sleeping, it’s time for playing”

or, “eventually, trying to have an ~intimate moment~ — whether that means sex or not — with his boyfriend, only to get interrupted by Oscar waddling into Seb’s bedroom like he was invited by virtue of his Dad and New Favorite both being there, or by pit-mix Lola sticking her head in like, ‘Do you guys need anything? Snacks? A condom? Let me know!,’ or by Achilles whining at them for attention because he feels ignored”

—but that’s sort of beside the point, which was just that…… Yeah, no, Stephen would have a way easier time telling his boyfriend not to adopt another dog than he would, if he tried to tell Sara Grace that she doesn’t need another cat)

Anyway, Stephen won’t be allowed to chaperone both of them to the ASPCA shelter at once, because his reason will get overridden by how cute both of them are when they start looking at cute animals, and Sara Grace started getting teary about this one cat who’d been rescued off the streets after going through some vaguely defined Hell that Stephen didn’t hear all the details about, and Seb got making heart eyes at a little Jack Russell mix because they reminded him of his first dog (Toby), and Stephen tried to tell them not to, okay, he really tried, but they were being so cute and the animals’ stories were so sad and that’s why the team has two new animal companions???

—Fortunately, that’s never going to happen for realskis, because the rest of the team will veto the idea before it even gets off the ground, but…… yeah.

All three of these characters are actual facts adults, I swear

They just can’t act like it very well around cute things and especially not if the cute things involve animals

Sara Grace is also going to be low-key jealous that Seb can kind of talk to animals (…it’s not quite that simple, but that’s how this ability of his looks to her), and at some point, she’s probably going to ask him to translate her cats for her because she really wants to know that Peppermint Patty and Valerie know that she loves them, and then, she will be told that it doesn’t really work that way, but okay, he can try to do his best for her, if it makes her feel better? :/

And it does make her feel better, Seb. Thank you.

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