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scotianostra · 2 years

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On St Andrews Day 1996 the Stone of Destiny completed a 400-mile journey under police escort from Westminster Abbey to Edinburgh Castle.

Part two.

Continuing on with Robbie the Pict’s efforts to have the stone returned home.

I left you with the news that the Lord Advocate for Scotland sent a letters saying they would not attempt to recover one of Scotland's most significant State possessions, time for Robbie to again, go above their heads, let's see what the Monarch in whose name he acts has to say about the justice of that decision. Robbie tells her Maj that it is a last resort.......his letter in late October 1994 reads;

“Your Majesty,

I regret to say that I have to write to Your Majesty as a last resort in an attempt to secure justice regarding the retrieval of the Stone of Destiny, unlawfully removed from Scone Abbey in 1296.

Given that, on the last two occasions on which persons have tried to recover the property they have been treated as criminals, I decided to present the argument for the just and proper return of stolen property on paper and pursue justice through `the proper channels'. (I enclose the relevant correspondence).

In short, the government's Justice Charter for Scotland is proved worthless in that there is no intention to investigate `without fear or favour' and, in truth, I will be pleasantly surprised if you yourself actually exert your personal authority on this question, even when you are personally involved, I have become used to a bland reply from a robotic civil servant in the `Scottish' Office.

However, I try to continue to believe in justice as a fundamental principle of civilisation so I have to ask you, on behalf of myself and the other people of Scotland, to instruct the appropriate authorities to return this piece of property to Scotland where it must be held in public trust until the people decide what they want to do with it.

Yours faithfully,

Robbie the Pict”

Now say what you want about the English, but I point to the difference in correspondence in the small matter of addressing Robbie, in Scotland in their short letters he is basically being dismissed as a nuisance, the letters always start “Dear Sir” In the two replies from England they are “Dear Mr. Pict” much more polite and in my opinion courteous.

“I am commanded by The Queen to thank you for your letter of 23rd October about the Stone of Destiny.

Her Majesty appreciates receiving views and comments from the many people who write to her, and your particular letter has been carefully noted. I should perhaps add, though, that while The Queen has a duty and a right to express her views to her Government, her position as a constitutional Sovereign also requires Her Majesty to act on the advice of her Ministers. The Queen would not, therefore, intervene publicly in matters such as the one you have raised, where responsibility rests with Ministers. As you have already received a reply from the Scottish Office, Her Majesty is unable to help you further.”

No joy there then, but were you really expecting her not to just sit on the fence? This was only a couple of years after her first Annus horribilis.

Robbie isn’t done with her yet, in a reply at the end of March he says he has evaluated the response, he argues that she is acting in this position as “Queen of England” and that “ technically speaking, there has been no such entity as the Queen of England or the country or Kingdom of England since 1707″ He goes on about a few political points, he returns to the point risen about the Stone when he, quite rightly points out that under Scots Law there is no statute of limitation on the crimes of theft and reset of stolen property and both yourself as the person claimed by the Dean of Westminster to be the owner and the Very Reverend Michael Mayne as 'custodier' in Westminster Abbey, are open to the latter charge regarding the Stone of Scone. There is no immunity from prosecution available to the monarch in Scotland. Our tradition is to be a democratic sovereignty within the Law, as even King Robert the Bruce found out to his cost in a Highland court.

Basically he is threatening her with court action, which is not allowed in England, but because the stolen property is Scotland's’ it is not without the realms of the courts to prosecute her! He also points out “ It must be remembered that 1996 would bring 700 years of English possession”

Robbie also tells her Maj that there is a perfectly good Saxon coronation stone in Kingston upon Thames High Street.! He politely asks her to use her Royal privilege and command our Coronation stone be placed in the A.K. Bell Public Library in Perth until the people of Scotland decide what is to be done with it. “ By that action the terms of the Treaty of Northampton would be honoured.

By May 10th all has gone quiet, so again he writes to The Queen

“Having received no reply to my letter of the 31st of March, I must assume that you are adhering to the constitutional position which you identified in your letter of 4th of November.“ and that “ clear for all to see that the Kingdom of England, who-ever is now its sovereign director, has no intention of honouring the terms of the Treaty of Northampton “

Robbie the starts to go off at a wee bit of a tangent mentioning The Battle of Dun Nechtain or Battle of Nechtansmere, which I have covered a few times and “ that the Stone of Destiny is transported to Letham Village Hall in Angus by midnight on the 19th of May, 1995″ the anniversary of the battle being the following day.

Now I have to give you a wee bit more info on Oor Robbie here, formerly known as Brian Robertson is the leader of the Micronation of the Pictish Free State, established in 1977 as a means of promoting awareness of the Pictish culture.

He was also a leading figure in the ultimately successful campaign to abolish the toll on the Skye Bridge during which he argued that the legal paperwork for the tolls was incomplete, and that consequently the tolls themselves were illegal. The toll was finally abolished in 2004 after the government bought the bridge from its private owners.

After his last letter to the Queen he issued this on behalf of the Pictish State

“PICTISH FREE STATE PRESS RELEASE RETURN OF THE STONE OF DESTINY - FIRST ASKING

In November 1993 a campaign was begun to secure the return of the Scottish Coronation Stone by 'going through the proper channels'. The theft of the Stone was therefore reported to the local police but they refused to conduct any enquiry. Similar stonewalling was displayed by the offices of the Secretary of State for Scotland, the Prime Minister, the Lord Advocate for Scotland and the Queen of the United Kingdom. In our view, the only proper response was from the Procurator Fiscal in Perth who forwarded the papers to the Lord Advocate.

In her reply, the Queen has identified government ministers as those responsible for resolving such issues, however she has since been made aware that under Scots Common Law she would be open to arraignment on charges of resetting stolen property, as would her 'custodier', the Very Reverend Michael Mayne, Dean of Westminster Abbey. There is no statute of limitations in Scots Law for the crimes of theft or receiving stolen property: nor can the receiver ever acquire title to an item of stolen property.

As regards 'taking stock' in Scotland, government ministers have totally failed to get anywhere near 'basics' on the longest standing 'law and order' issue between the two kingdoms.

The Stone of Destiny is the symbol of the sovereignty of the People of Scotland and as we approach the real likelihood of the return of the Scottish Parliament, it is proper that the touchstone of statehood is again within the borders of our ancient kingdom.

As instigator of this initiative, I have asked to Queen to organise the return of the Stone of Destiny to Letham Village Hall in Angus, by midnight on Friday, the 19th of May, the eve of Dunnichen Day. This year is the 1310th anniversary of the Battle of Nechtansmere, a rout of the expansionist Ecgfrith and his Angles by King Brude of the Picts.

In the event of the Stone not being returned, other civil forms of campaign will be pursued. In the event of the return of the Stone at any time or in any circumstances, we advocate its placement in the Public Library at Perth, a city which we have previously proposed as the new legislative capital.

Given that the parliamentary representative for Perth and Kinross has not yet been chosen, we feel that candidates for this post can best demonstrate which master they intend to serve by answering 'yes' or 'no' to the question; 'If you were elected, would you lead a campaign for the return of the Stone of Destiny to its home neighbourhood in Scotland?'. We invite supporters of unionist parties whose party loyalty is compromised by this question to abstain in favour of a full- choice referendum concerning the nature of the Scottish Parliament.

Robbie the Pict Founder, Pictish Free State.

Thank you boys and girls!”

9 days later

Dear Mr Pict,

Thank you for your letters of 31st March and 10th May.

As I have said in the past, The Queen much appreciates receiving views and comments from the many people who write to her. Your particular letters concerning the Stone of Destiny have been very carefully noted and I am to thank you again for writing.

I believe that this, therefore, now brings our correspondence on this matter to a close.

Robbie then contacts his Clan, the Robertson proposing a review of the Acts of Union of 1706 and 1707 and support the campaign for the return of the Stone of Destiny to the County of Perth. He signs it in his official capacity as Secretary of Clan Robertson/Clan Donnachaidh Society.

I won’t go into the full reply, but basically he is told they wont support his proposals. More correspondence followed with politicians which was going nowhere, Robbie decides it’s time to go back to the Procurator Fiscal's Office and asks for permission to mount a private prosecution against the Very Reverend Michael Mayne, Dean of Westminster and that The Queen is arraignable as potentially guilty of resetting stolen property.

The Procurator Fiscal tells him it is not them, but the Lord Advocate who is responsible in this case and they have forwarded his letter.

He gets a letter from an MP in The Scottish Office telling him that as the alleged offence is being committed in London, the Scottish courts would not have jurisdiction, Robbie fires back quoting again he terms of the 1328 Treaty of Northampton. Letters go back and forward covering the same old ground, then in February 1996 Robbie gets involved in the Skye Bridge Toll campaign, releasing statements regarding that, the Scottish Office must have thought that would be the end of the Stone of Destiny campaign, but he also draws attention to this in his Press Release, they’re not getting off the hook.

In the Press release Robbie makes and offer to “buy” the stone back for £250,000, this wasn’t taken up during his grace period, Robbie tries to get “Princess Diana” involved. Her office send a polite sorry nae chance letter.

Robbie is getting desperate, in another Press release about the Skye Bridge he also ups the ante with this

“WE HEREBY OFFER THE SUM OF HALF A MILLION POUNDS STERLING TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, TO DO WITH AS THEY CHOOSE, FOR THE RETURN OF THE SCOTTISH CORONATION STONE OF SCONE, KNOWN AS THE STONE OF DESTINY AND CURRENTLY LOCATED UNDER THE MONARCH OF ENGLAND'S THRONE IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, LONDON, ENGLAND.”

He also writes to Chelsea Player manager Glenn Hoddle trying to get support. The reply to him is from the club saying he is due to leave an become the England Manager soon and to perhaps contact the FA of England.

In May 1996 another letter goes to the Dean of Westminster confirming this new offer. Avery prompt reply dated two days later tells him that “ the Abbey does not own the Stone of Scone, but simply holds it in trust for the nation, your offer of half-a-million pounds for it is irrelevant.”

The Home secretary is next to get a letter, it’s more or less the same as ones to everyone else, my favourite line in this one though is “May I take this opportunity of wishing your country the best of luck in Euro '96.”

Eventually after another letter to the Home Office everything goes full circle and they tell Robbie the letter “has been passed to The Scottish Office for reply.”

The letter however goes on to say “The Stone is owned by the Crown, being monarch and Government for the time being of Great Britain. As far as any queries in relation to Crown property are concerned, the courts (sic) in Scotland would apply Scottish law (sic) and the courts in England and Wales would apply English law. As you have probably heard Her Majesty has now decided that the Stone should be returned to Scotland and consultations are to be held on the appropriate location for it.”

Robbie isnae finished with all this though, he sends a letter to the Gordon Stephen Personal Banking Manager of Bank of Scotland in Dingwall telling him about his proposal to buy the Stone, by this time the amount is back to £250,000, and could they facilitate some sort of guarantee and a payment plan to be made in instalments, and “ From the bank's perspective, I would be very surprised if the stake money was lost or if I could not organise a recovery fund, via rock music concerts etc “

A final letter goes to The Scottish Office on July 9th 1996 detailing everything he has asked for before and (in) “summation I have been obliged to ask an additional five questions, making a total of thirteen. You will appreciate that this being an affair of state it should be conducted properly by both sides and perhaps we can avoid planting another 700 years worth of bitter resentment.”

The final latter from The Scottish Office is date 15th July 1996, and I was surprised that after years of Dear Sirs, it read

Dear Robbie the Pict

Thank you for your letter of 9th July. I am looking into the points you have raised and will reply in due course.

Yours sincerely

Huw Williams.

We wait with boyish anticipation.

The wait ended when the Stone of Destiny was delivered to Edinburgh Castle, Scotland, at the behest of the monarch, Queen Elizabeth, and the Prime Minister, John Major OTD 1996.

Sorry if this has dragged on a bit I chopped a lot off, I also might add another wee post about the Stone of Destiny later on.

#scotland #scottish #england #english #stone of destiny #robbie the pict #history #Edinburgh Castle

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rovewritesit · 4 years

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Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 2) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, duh. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: A wild Deacy appears! Reader was supposed to meet him in this chapter but it got a bit long. I may have awkwardly stuffed in some backstory as well, but I wanted to get through it before we start having more interactions with the members of Queen. I’m a hoe for Hot Space and Cool Cat is such a vibe so I had to throw it in here. If you haven’t heard the original demo with Bowie you should take a listen. The music video concept was sparked loosely by Mitski’s “Happy” video (it’s gory af, be forewarned). I’m aware that the MTV of the 80s definitely would’ve banned anything like that, but it’ll come back around in the plot later on.

Songs Mentioned:

Heart of the Night - Juice Newton

More Than A Feeling - Boston

My Best Friend’s Girl - The Cars

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute

- - - - - - -

February 1982 - Orpheum Theater, Boston

It’s noisy in the cramped green room backstage at the Orpheum Theater in Boston. Gone were the days of grand arenas while tagging along with Hall and Oates. Now only around 2,000 bodies lined the seats out in the house, but you still feel that familiar bubble of nerves as Dawn busies herself around your hair.

Dawn, your best friend from your two short years at NYU, had agreed to tag along for the short tour to help with your “look.” Not that you ever really had a problem with your usual jeans and t-shirts, but this rock type of glam proved to be a different beast, and Dawn certainly had an eye for style. Her voluminous hair always streaked blonde and crimped to perfection. She’d tried to convince you many times to do something chemical with yours but you held firm to your virgin hair, causing your pre-show routine to run well into an hour and a half to get the desired popular style. You smile up at her as she curls part of your bangs away from your face, truly grateful to have another woman around.

“Babes, please stop moving your head. I’ve had to do the same piece 3 times already.” She tuts at you. “And Eds, I’ve asked you how many times to watch your elbows, jesus christ.”

Eddie tries to cram in even tighter against the wall, keeping to the five tiny spots you’d all wrangled against the mirror. “Ay, I’m trying over here. It takes some effort to get all this together.” He smirks, running his fingers through his already perfectly coiffed hair. A shame really, that it would be utterly destroyed within 15 minutes of being on stage.

“Have we picked a city song for tonight yet? I want to go over it in my head a few times before we go on.” Lawrence calls out, trying to tug on a pair of pants that look a size or two too small for him.

The Limbs had taken to playing one song per show by a famous local artist from the city they were in. Since they only had the one album out, it was a chance to get the audience singing and moving together; to change up the pace. A modified tip from a certain mustached rock legend that the band had started to implement.

“I thought we decided on More Than A Feeling?” Eddie says as he tears his eyes away from his own reflection.

“That’ll be what they expect. I think Bun sounds better on My Best Friend’s Girl,” Rich says simply. He’s attempting some form of stretching routine in the back corner of the room, his extremities bumping up against the walls.

“So Y/N’s taking this one?” Steve asks, lounging across a small loveseat against the wall, his legs dangling off of it delicately. He looks up from whatever song he’s been working on.

“You heard what the label said. They want Y/N more center stage, so to speak, for marketing reasons.” Rich tries folding his body into some sort of pretzel shape. A light “oof,” escapes his lips as he falls backward slightly.

“Ah yes, we need to give the public what they want,” you huff, wanting to roll your eyes if not for Dawn covering your head in a cloud of Aqua Net.

Eddie starts pacing, or at least tries to, “I just don’t get why they’re trying to make her into some Debbie Harry.” He scoffs, “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

Dawn glares at him. It was a bit of a low blow, but Eddie was still getting used to sharing the spotlight with you, with him singing lead on almost every other song.

You were still struggling to find your presence on stage and were more than happy to take a back seat to the boys for the most part. And while some of the band’s other singles were gaining traction, none were close to catching up to Heart of the Night, which was now getting steady airplay and record sales thanks to the absurd music video that hit TV screens everywhere a few weeks back.

“That’s true, Y/N’s much more of a Linda Ronstadt type if we’re throwing out names,” Lawrence grunts out. Finally able to close the button on his skin-tight pants.

A cold laugh erupts from Eddie. “Exactly. It’s the Eighties now if you haven’t noticed. It’s all about edgy sex appeal, and let’s be honest, even Steve has a better chance of-”

“Enough!” Dawn’s voice sliced through the air, the daggers thrown from her eyes flying towards him. She leans down to your level to examine her masterpiece. “You look as sexy as a goddamn playboy bunny, hun. No pun intended.” Her voice softens as she pinches your cheeks.

The room goes mostly quiet for the next few minutes as the local opening band starts to close out their set with their last two songs. Only Rich’s deep breathing, fitting in time to the beat.

You chew your cherry painted lips, mulling over Eddie’s words. You knew full well that you weren’t exactly the frontwoman the label or the public dreamed of. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be a frontwoman at all. When you’d finally given in to Rich’s insistent pestering to come have some fun with the boys, you’d been at NYU for two years. You loved your film classes but felt the hole that was left from the absence of playing any type of music. In high school, you’d all show up to a party with a variety of instruments in your grasps. It almost always resulted in a crowd gathering around to listen, joining in with your voices, clicking their beer bottles in time with the beat. It was when you had felt most carefree, and you had ached for that feeling again.

But playing locally turned into recording an album, for which you wrote a song for some dream of a man that only existed in your thoughts. Next thing you knew you were scooped up by Columbia Records, missing classes to attend photoshoots or album release parties. People were listening to your voice, your song, and wanting more. You dropped out of college to the dismay of your parents but were immediately enveloped in your friends' glee, finally reaching the precipice of something they’d only dreamed of. You hated the thought of letting them down in any way but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a fluke, that you had nothing else to give. Destined to fade out as a one-hit-wonder and a disappointment to your best friends in the world. The weight hit your shoulders as you slumped in your seat.

None of this was supposed to happen, you tell yourself. It never happens like this.

You’re broken out of your daze when there’s a rap at the door and a muffled “5 minutes” from the stage manager behind it. You all stand, waiting for Rich to spread his wings and engulf you in your usual pre-show pow wow. You slide Dawn in next to you in the now group of 6, needing someone steady as an anchor.

“If you’d please, Reverend.” Steve probes, cheekily.

“We’re gathered here today” Rich begins and Dawn giggles. “To bring immense joy to those 2,000 idiots out there, who so willingly sold out our show for us. They deserve a performance played to 200,000, so that’s what we’re going to give them. In the name of our fathers, John, George, Paul, and Ringo. Let’s go give em’ hell.”

“Amen!” you all shout and disband.

As you follow the boys into the dingy hallway leading to the stage, Eddie catches your wrist. He looks at you through his long lashes with an uncharacteristically shy smile that almost never sees the light of day.

“I’m sorry for being a prick, Bun. I shouldn’t have said all that,” he mutters as you continue to walk, not wanting to miss your cue.

“No worries, Eds. You were right though. I’m definitely no Debbie,” you force a chuckle at yourself while a roadie slips your guitar strap onto your shoulders.

“It’s not alright. And no, you’re not,” he says catching your downturned eyes. “You’re Y/N fucking L/N, and you’re just gettin’ started, baby. All you gotta do is take a little bit of the love we all have for you and give some to yourself once in a while, alright?” A grin forms, showing his adorably asymmetrical teeth as he reaches out a hand to ruffle your painstakingly perfected hair. “That’s better. Now let's get out there so you can show the world exactly what kind of frontwoman you are. And don’t be scared to show them a hint of Bunny while you’re at it.” You move your guitar out of the way to pull him in for a close hug. You hear Steve start banging his snare and pull Eddie on to the stage with you, feeling a bit lighter than you had been minutes ago.

You approach your mic and take a look out at the packed, hazy theater.

“Well hello, Bawston!’ Your accent rings out to the faceless figures before you. “Aren’t you all looking fuckin’ fabulous tonight!”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Musicland Studios, Munich

“No, I didn’t say it’s bad, just that it sounds tinny,” Brian argues, crossing his spidery arms over his chest as he leans against the doorframe.

“And it’s as if you’ve shoehorned Bowie in there just to mumble in the background incoherently. A waste, really.” Roger tacks on from beside him.

John sighs and leans his head against the back of the couch in the studio. “Just because it’s not your precious red special or your own magic fingers at work, doesn’t mean it’s tinny,” he counters calmly. Trying his best to keep the annoyance from seeping into his voice, knowing that Brian already had anger stemming from John’s earlier composition for the album.

It was the first time this week that all four men were in the studio together. Finishing up Hot Space was proving to be a strain on all of them and the growing rift had caused the men to nearly finish their songs separately instead of in their usual group dynamic. John’s experimentation into different styles, such as funk and disco, had not been willingly received thus far.

“Well, I sound rather fabulous, if I do say so myself. I’m very proud of us, Deacy.” Freddie states, getting up from his own place on the couch and stretching.

“It’s not that, Fred. It just doesn’t sound like us.” Brian sighs, already sensing the escalation of a row coming along.

“Oh please. Not this again...” Freddie huffs.

“That’s because it’s not us. It’s me and Freddie.” John cuts in with a roll of his eyes, landing them on Mack, their producer, who just shrugs and trains his gaze back to the board.

“That’s for sure.” Roger murmurs out. Now it’s John’s turn to cross his arms as he levels their pointed gazes. He’d worked with Fred for days putting together “Cool Cat,” hoping that the additional vocals from David Bowie would be a selling point for the other two.

With a clap of his hands, Freddie moves about the room. “Why don’t we take a quick break and then give it another listen?” Roger groans. Freddie pats his shoulder as he makes his way over to a radio beside Mack.

John rubs his tired eyes before pushing himself off the couch, eager for a break from the energy in the stale room. “I’m grabbing a coffee,” not offering one to the others as he brushes past Brian on his way out, quickly retreating down the hallway as fast as his legs will carry him.

The remaining three startle a bit as Freddie flips on the radio, Lo & The Limbs hit single pours from it, louder than expected.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Simply marvelous,” he exclaims, jumping up and down lightly. Roger and Brian raise their eyebrows in silent questioning. “This is the band of rascals I was telling you about the other week. They must’ve just broken out here.”

“The yanks you met while in the States?” Roger questions, turning his attention to the song, eager to judge any brimming competition.

“Yes, yes, the wild young lady who swears like the devil and her band of merry giant trees.”

“We have one of those!” Rog nods in Brian’s direction, voice muffled by a cigarette now dangling from his lips.

“Hm, Brain’s more of a willowy spruce, if you will. These ones are giant redwoods. You know American’s. And they have these thick New York accents. I could barely understand a word they were saying at first. What a riot they were.” he remembers fondly.

“I feel as if I’ve heard this before, but I can’t place it.” Brian ponders, almost to himself.

John appears in the doorway, blowing lightly on a steaming mug.

“Probably from that shocking video of theirs, darling,” Freddie waves his hands about. “Oh, you must’ve seen it. They’re all dressed up like they're in Grease or something, and this square of a girl is pinning after the bad boy. But he’s with this slutty little thing. And oh, I can’t recall the details, but in the end, she ends up murdering the slut!” He slaps the table for effect. “But for some odd reason the boy is okay with it all and they run off into the night together, covered in blood.”

“Sounds… spooky?” Roger shrugs. John stifles a chuckle.

“It’s dramatic! And sexy. And obviously working for them.” The wheels already turning in his head.

John tunes out their chatter and trains his ears to said song, which is about halfway through. The instrumentals seem a bit basic for his taste. The soft strum of an acoustic guitar, a slightly heavier electric over it, with a simple bass line. A female voice flits in.

Cool city moon lays its touch on the room,

Your eyes reach to me

It has a rasp to it. Akin to Stevie Nicks, he thinks.

Two shadows fall saying nothing at all,

We know what we need

No, not quite. It’s entirely it's own if he’s being honest. He can feel the soul pulsating through words and the power that’s beneath it. One that could probably fit with any genre it should choose. His interest peaked.

In the release, two prisoners are free from the darkness

One more escape surviving the heartache and madness

The raw emotion erupting from the speakers and the lyrics start to paint a picture in his mind, scrambling to fill in the faceless voice.

In the heart of the night

The chorus starts and picks up steam quickly. Male voices begin to fill in on background vocals, blending together seamlessly.

We run like bandits

Two hungry hearts under the gun

Her voice cracks a bit, in a charming way. It must be radiant when heard live.

In the heart of the night

When we find each other

Were stealing love on the run

In the heart of the night,

Heart of the night

A small smile plays on John’s lips as the song fades out. They’re good, he muses to himself, a bit intrigued by the song and Fred’s colorful description of the accompanying video.

“A great voice indeed. They’ve got a strong sound going.” Brian chirps up.

“That’s her first swing at writing, too. Wish it had been that bloody easy for us.”

“Is she a looker, Fred?” Roger wags his brows.

“Oh please, they’re practically babies! Although that drummer of theirs is certainly something to write home about… Even with the head of hair he has. A bit like a mushroom. A cute one.” Freddie ponders, stroking his full mustache.

John reaches up and pats the tight curls atop his own head, wondering how it would look if he ceased from trimming his current short perm.

“I do hope they catch on here. What fun that would be.” John readily nods along without realizing it.

Freddie switches off the radio and turns back to the other three men. “Alright back to it then. Queue it up, Mac,” placing a hand on the man’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Columbia Records, New York City

“Why are the undersides of my knees sweaty? I’m not a back of the knee sweat kind of guy, alright?” Lawrence fidgets, adjusting his collar for the fourth time in two minutes.

You casually gulp down your third glass of water while staring at the wood-paneled walls of the office. Attempting to avoid the gazes of a number of gold discs lining the walls, the echoes of your musical idols. They seem to be laughing at you.

Steve partakes in his trademark bouncing routine, the chair underneath him squeaking in a violent rhythm. “Do you think it’s the video? It has to be the video or we wouldn’t be in this office. I knew we shouldn’t have taken that big of a risk right out of the gate.”

“You gotta be kidding me. You basically doused yourself in the blood when Eddie pitched it!” Rich cuts in, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found.

“What! It was your idea for the--”

The door behind where the group is gathered swings open and in strides a stocky man with a full beard and tinted aviator sunglasses still covering his eyes.

“What are we all standing around for? Sit, sit, sit, c’mon.” His gruff Brooklyn accent ringing out as he moves to sit behind a large mahogany desk.

The Limbs scramble to fit on the couch across from him, with you ending up perched on the armrest, gripping Rich’s bicep for support.

The man, Walter Yetnikoff, CEO and Chairman of Columbia Records, grunts as he eases into a leather chair, finally removing his glasses, revealing surprisingly kind eyes, “Jeez louise, look at you kids. You look as if a nun just caught you all playing with each other’s junk. What’s with the faces?”

“Mr. Yetnikoff, we’d like to sincerely apologize for the backlash that has come from our video. We should’ve known better than that. We could’ve toned it down… a lot.” Eddie rushes out. He wipes his hand over his too-snug tailored pants, probably leftover from days of youth choir.

Walter barks out a laugh. “I’ll admit I was a little shocked to find out that’s what you needed a high school gym for, but relax a little, will ya? You’re not here to be scolded. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have fought so hard to get it airtime.”

The Limbs visibly relax- a tad, but their eyes all stay wide.

“Well aren’t ya gonna ask why you’re all here then?”

“W-why are we here?” Rich asks quietly. “Sir.” He adds.

“It seems that the slight PR crisis of a video you made has made its way across the pond,” Walter smirks.

“You mean…” Steve trails off in a voice two octaves higher than usual.

“You kids better like air travel because there’s gonna be a lot of it in your near future. The hit has broken into the London airwaves and they’re not as god fearing as viewers here seem to be. We’re sending you over there next week now that you’ve wrapped up the tour.”

“Holy shit!” Lawrence yells. You feel yourself falling back off your perch as your large friends all jump to their feet. Rich’s gangly arm luckily catches you and pulls you immediately into a suffocating hug. “You did this, Bunny!” He screams in your ear. “You did this!”

“Alright, alright, you can all go celebrate and drink your faces off in a second,” Walter calls out over the group who immediately shut their mouths. “We have a few details to iron out but I’m hoping to send you over there for a full press tour. Photoshoots, interviews, talk show appearances. The works, you got it.”

Steve lets out a squeal of delight, his voice not yet returning to its usual bass.

“You.” He points a stubby finger in your direction. “I’m waiting to hear back about a last-minute cancelation on some game show out there. We’re gonna try to get you in. You know your shit?”

“W-what kind of shit, sir?” You ask from the bear hug that Rich still holds you in.

He holds up his hands, gesturing to the gold discs that surround him. “Music, my dear.”

All you can do is nod, not wanting to think about what that even entails.

“That’s what I like to see. Now get outta here so you can all combust somewhere outside of my office. We’ll call you in a few days. Get those bags ready, you hear me?” He waves you all off.

Before you have a chance to say anything, the boys are sweeping you out of the room. And off to the start of whatever comes next, you guess.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #deaky fic #deaky x reader #deacy fic #deacy x reader #angelofmydreams

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alistonjdrake · 4 years

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Of Rust and Gold: Season Two

Or more like...the beginning of my world building posts for Of Vipers and Saints (the sequel)

My other world building posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Main Wip Intro here

Below you’ll find a rundown of the key figures/prominent characters of the sequel so let’s get to this, shall we?

OVS, Of Rust and Gold’s first sequel takes us back to the Escana Empire where the Harver reign faces new struggles when they’re asked to join a war on foreign soil, rebellions against their rule are sparked, and an assassination attempt threatens to tear it all apart. Prince Argus and his ex-pirate lover Leo are finally given the chance to be together, but as the political climate gets hot even they might turn against each other.

Prince Argus: Older and (slightly) wiser, Argus has said goodbye to his party boy nature although not by choice and spends much of his time as a councilman and still pushing his nose into other people’s business and matters that go over his head. Now with fewer friends, a bigger rift between him and his cousin, and a boyfriend he spends all his money on. Lonely but still well dressed. Oh. And he proposed to Leo.

King Cidro: King of Escan and Emperor of all her territories. Cidro’s reign is still young and he struggles to emerge from the shadow left by Frederick and to move Escan away from the history that stains them. Can be found either doting on his wife or cooing at one of three children he now has. Being a king can get busy but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get in his family time. A very nice guy but possibly not very keen of his youngest brother’s sugar baby?

Prince Leonides: With their father gone, Leonides has possibly occupied an even bigger space in court. Still striking fear and reluctant attraction into the hearts of others. Between him and the queen, sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s really pulling the strings behind the scenes but at least we can always trust Leonides to know everyone’s deepest darkest secrets. Or does he?

Queen Liliana: Queen Consort of Escan and Empress of all her territories. After pushing out 3 kids (1 girl and twin boys) she’s moved onto other “duties”. Such as shadowing Cidro everywhere he goes and constantly whispering in his ear before he makes big decisions. What’s she saying? No one knows but no one is gonna ask either because of the resting bitch face.

Princess Zurina: The only daughter of the late King Frederick and Argus’ oldest sister. The past couple of years have not been easy for her and she’s tired of not being included. She also thinks she’s cursed and that demons are gonna pry the empire from their hands and hates when their religious neighbors come to court.

Princess Damaris/Dame Havisa: Having pushed more of her focus onto knighthood and her work, Damaris is just one step away from leaving the Harver family entirely. After Argus, she’s been engaged several times. Luckily, nothing stuck.

Councillor Gilabert: A councilman who sits next to Argus during meetings. He’s in charge of a whole ass committee put together specifically to find Argus literally anyone else to marry as long as it’s not A. an ex-pirate and B. an ugly ex-pirate. He’s a nice guy. Ask him about his aunts.

Chancellor Harver: Or Prince Manolo. Although he took priestly vows and is technically no longer a prince. He lives and works in the holy capital of Mignola but is back to ask for a favor as war wrecks havoc throughout Codua and the most religious Santivians seem to think this is the Saints saying that something ain’t right with the world. He started growing a mustache. No one has the guts to tell him it’s not a good look.

Prince Aayden Ponsonby: Possibly Argus’ only friend at this point. Friend, being used liberally. He still has a short temper, but now with more angst considering his father has been locked in his room for 3 years and now he has a family and legacy of his own to consider.

Lady Cordinia ana’Gustavo Carvallo: Ex-queen, still a stepmom. Cidro put her in charge of the royal nursery. Keep as far away from Argus has possible.

Lord Enyo an’Tomas Serafin: After being dumped he’s actually been away from court for quite some time but could be tempted to come back. Or forced. Depending.

Reverend Mother Ulrike: Mother of all Santivian nuns and here to pull Escan and Oskya into a war in Codua. It’s a messy situation but hey, some of the Harvers have a bone to pick with the Justice (religious leader) too and she’s hoping to pull them in if only because this might have a negative effect on their empire.

Ambassador Ulmer: Oskyan Ambassador who literally will never be able to get a break.

Hartanti Telak: King Frederick might be dead but she remains in the palace as a kindness from King Cidro. Not for any other reason. She has no other job. We swear.

Maltoq Zamen: So...is he a prisoner? Is he a guest? Are people really still mad at him over the whole “almost fed Argus to a living god” thing? Wow. Get over yourselves. Oh. Also the figurehead ruler of Theassau, one of many territories controlled by Escan. He’s been held in Graza Palace for some time now.

Marcel: A man traveling with Mother Ulrike because he sought help after fleeing religious persecution caused by the wars in Codua. Certainly not a con artist and definitely not someone Leo recognizes.

Leo Dianglo: Still grumpy, still drinks a bit too much, and still would rather not talk about it. All he wants to do is put his life of crime behind him (or does he?) and spend some well-deserved time with the man he loves but it’s hard when literally no one in Graza wants him there and he’s constantly being pushed in different directions. Not to mention being the guardian of two teenage boys have put him in more troubling scenarios than he ever signed up for. At least now he’s the captain of his own ship and what he does is totally LEGAL.

Mel: Angst-riddled teenager, definitely cursed, and struggling to understand something no one can really explain to him. With his dad still on the run, people keep coming to him for answers he doesn’t have. But worse yet, they’re trying to teach him things.

Mung: Pirate orphan #2. When he’s not threatening to murder Mel, he’s also spending way more time with him than he’d like to admit. Sure, Mung is definitely hiding something but he also slouches too much. Let’s pay attention to that instead.

Officer Gerwin: Commander of Escan’s Knights. He’s never having a good day.

Sir Erasmus: Knight elected to keep an eye on Leo and his wards to watch for any illegal activity.

Tarley Vilardi: A Fate (solider of the Saints) who survived the night all hell broke loose in the holy city. An ex-lover of the now-dead Niels Dursten and blames a certain Harver for it.

Lady Ludovica: A woman living in Mignola with her children and a distant relative to Mother Ulrike. Might speak up in a case against the Harvers because another one stopped writing her back after their affair.

Duchess Benedetta Onesta Cassiopeia de ave Astorino: Yes. You have to say her whole name. She’s young and the daughter of a warlord who had a dedicated following, as such she’s been raised as a soldier and her men would die for her. And that’s likely why she’s been waging war in Codua since she was 10. But recently she’s gotten more ambitious and that can’t have anything to do with the fact that her uncle is Justice and hoping to build an empire of his own? In the process of trying to work out an engagement with someone that would give her land on Escana soil and no one wants her to step foot out of Codua.

Justice Zisa: Well polite in manners he’s known to be quite ambitious and selective when it comes to telling people his intentions. Is he putting any effort into stopping his bloodthirsty niece or is he party to the destruction she’s causing?

Wiara: A girl Leo found in a shipwreck. She claims to be a princess but she was also smelled like blood magic and no one is really sure how she ended up there or what she wants.

Sister Rosalie Pélissier: Working in the Kallenbach household, a Kellish nun working out the terms of engagement between Lord Gaius Kallenbach, one of the last of the Kellish nobility, and Duchess Benedetta. She also has some radical ideas about the Saints and could possibly be tempted to guide someone else who isn’t a warlord if they’re willing to listen/bring the change she believes the world needs.

Lady Philomené Kallenbach: One of the last of the Kellish nobility. At one point she was engaged to Argus and at another was the symbol for the last Kellish rebellion against the Escana Empire. She and Sister Rosalie are very close.

Lord Gaius Kallenbach: Phil’s younger brother. Might marry Duchess Benedetta and invite her onto Escana soil.

Lord Elas an’Rodro Barraza: The rivalry between the Barrazas and Harvers goes back to the beginning of Frederick’s reign. There’s a lot of bad blood but current events invite the Barraza family to Graza for a celebration and surely an old man with a grudge is no worse than all the other threats surrounding them.

Tamune: The living god in the cells deep within Alda.

An Assassin: Someone tried to kill a Harver. The question is who?

#HI HOLY SHIT IS THIS LONG #my characters #lgbt fantasy #lgbt+ characters #writeblr #fantasy writeblr #fantasy WIP #worldbuilding #world building #tss trilogy #ovs or hey guys if you thought my cast was big before lets make it BIGGER #obviously not all of these characters are super central but they all show their faces and I got carried away and here we are #and I just miss doing these posts

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years

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Episode 24 Review: Top 5 Reasons Why the Holly Portrait Subplot Doesn’t Work

Welcome back to Maljardin, where the melodramatic master Jean Paul Desmond is God and the Devil is a snarky talking portrait.

Speaking of portraits, today we will be looking at the subplot about Tim’s portrait of “Erica” (or, rather, of Holly) and the main things that are wrong with it. This subplot is, in my opinion, the worst in the Maljardin arc and I’ve been holding off on writing a detailed explanation of why I feel that way until my review of this episode, which mostly centers around the damned Holly portrait.

The portrait, circa Episode 18. There aren’t any good shots of it from Episode 24, so I had to settle for this one.

To recap: After the death of Erica Desmond, her husband Jean Paul hired Tim Stanton, a young artist in debt to the mob, to paint a portrait of her. Erica being both dead and encased in a cryonics capsule which both Jean Paul and THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES refuse to open, Tim must instead use young heiress Holly Marshall as his model until Erica comes back to life as Jacques promised that she would.

Sound like a reasonable plan? No? I didn’t think so, either, and now I shall explain why. Here are the top five reasons why I think this subplot is stupid:

#5: Holly neither looks like Erica, nor knows what Erica looked like.

This screencap is actually from Episode 13, but I’m including it because it’s relevant.

I sometimes wonder if this criticism is unfair, because the only viewers up to this point in the show’s broadcast history who would have seen Erica were the viewers of Episodes 1, 2 (where Tim shows Alison his sketch of her), and 4. In the first scene of Episode 4, the Cryonics Society froze her corpse in the cryonics capsule, meaning that anyone who started watching after that scene would not have seen her face before Tim got his assignment from Jean Paul. Even so, neither Erica resembled Holly, which makes it absurd for her to sit for it. Why not have Alison pose instead when she’s not working? After all, they are sisters and they share a strong family resemblance according to the original pilot script. Holly barely resembles either Erica beyond being pretty.

Tim’s sketch of Erica from Episode 2, with a screencap of Alison from Episode 17 for comparison. With its upturned nose and full lips, the sketch is clearly intended to resemble Dawn Greenhalgh (Alison) and not Sylvia Feigel (Holly).

Because Holly hardly looks a thing like her, Tim complains in Episode 13 that he “can’t use her for anything but position and play of light.” In spite of this, later episodes including Episode 24 show that he has painted a sort of semi-abstraction of Holly’s face, with features about halfway between those of Holly and those of Erica. This means that he’s only making more work for himself for when Jacques brings Erica back to life--if he brings her back to life--because he will need to paint over the semi-abstraction with Erica’s face. In short, he’s wasting his time.

Besides, it’s unclear why Holly doesn’t know what Erica looked like if Erica was a very famous actress and she and her husband were stalked by the paparazzi until they escaped to Maljardin (as previous episodes have indicated). Surely she would have seen a photo of Erica in the newspaper at some point, or her face on the poster for one of her plays, or something. I realize that’s not the same as seeing someone in real life, but it’s just odd that she doesn’t know.

#4: Tim doesn’t have even a photo of Erica with him and so has to rely mostly on memory.

He even says so in Episode 13: “I have to depend on my memory of your wife and that sketch I made of her at the café,” he tells Jean Paul (or, rather, Jacques while he is possessing him). As we saw in that episode, opening the cryonics capsule and posing Erica’s thawed-out corpse for Tim is too devilish even for Jacques, so the starving artist is left with a dilemma. Jean Paul, being a fancy rich guy of noble descent, naturally assumes that any criticisms of his assignment is just a case of beggars trying to be choosers and ignores them; in his mind, he did him a favor by paying his debts and taking him to his island, so Tim should obey his every whim without question. But the truth is that Jean Paul has no understanding of how artists work, nor why Tim needs the real Erica to complete the painting, and he may not even understand the creative process behind painting a portrait.

This could make for interesting social commentary if the writers had had Tim take a good hard look at the situation and realize that Jean Paul is not just imprisoning him on the island but flat-out exploiting him. They could have made his subplot about class conflict, the establishment’s lack of empathy towards creative types, or both. However, they choose not to use the subplot for such commentary, instead going in a much more conventional direction.

#3: The Holly portrait is mostly used to drive a clichéd romantic subplot.

Two people meet and hate each other at first sight--or at least pretend to--although they are clearly attracted to each other. They argue, bicker, treat each other indifferently at best and abuse each other at worst, until one day they realize that they have fallen in love. When was the first time you read or saw this story? Do you even remember the first time? Most likely you don’t, because the exact same plot has been used and reused so many times since Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing premiered that Western media is saturated with it. It’s not a bad plot in and of itself, but it’s been overused so much that you can usually see it coming from a mile away. When Tim and Holly first bickered over her being too young to order booze, I predicted that they were setting up a romance between them. There are many signs: Tim confesses to Vangie that he feels sorry for Holly, Elizabeth suspects that he’s hitting on her, and, while she claims to dislike them both, Holly seems slightly less irritated by Tim than by her former captor, Matt Dawson. Ian Martin was clearly setting up a romance between the heiress and the artist, who are gradually bickering less and less: a telling sign that they are getting closer to falling in love.

As creepy as it is and as much as I don’t want them to get together, I actually find the Matt/Holly subplot more interesting to watch than Tim/Holly. Danny Horn of Dark Shadows Every Day may have written about how “groovy priest attracted to the beautiful young girl that he wants to take care of” is an old soap cliché, but I’ve seen it done far less often, which I suspect has something to do with all the church scandals in the past twenty years. The Belligerent Sexual Tension plot, on the other hand, is still very popular, so it feels less fresh to me than Matt and Holly’s subplot. (That doesn’t mean that I don’t still think he should leave her alone. Personally, I ship Reverend Dawson with his right hand and I think they ought to stay together.)

#2: The use of the Holly portrait on the show doesn’t connect to the show’s use of portraits for symbolism.

This one is really nitpicky and based mostly on my personal interpretation, but bear with me. Although far more complex than the Dark Shadows ripoff that many critics reduce it to, Strange Paradise nevertheless relied on many of the same tropes and themes, including the way its writers used portraits. On Dark Shadows, the writers often used a trope that Cousin Barnabas of the Collinsport Historical Society blog calls the “Portrait as Id,” meaning the use of paintings to symbolize and illustrate the truth about whatever character they represented. We see this in Strange Paradise as well with the portrait of Jacques, who tells Jean Paul that he is “the man you are, the man you might have been,” implying that the ostensibly good Jean Paul is not so different from his evil ancestor. Later on after Robert Costello becomes producer and the show becomes more like Dark Shadows, we’ll meet another character whose portrait does not turn out as intended because of the evil in said character’s heart, which also connects to this idea of portraits reflecting hidden reality. Although the conjure doll also resembles and represents Jacques, he does not generally use it to communicate with Jean Paul the way he does with the portrait. This makes sense, given that the doll and silver pin ended his life, while the portrait was painted at some point while he was alive.

In contrast to the portraits mentioned above, Holly’s portrait does not convey any additional information about either her or Erica. Because it represents the late Mrs. Desmond in name only, the Holly portrait says nothing about Erica’s id, her personality, or the state of her soul. It doesn’t even say very much about Holly. Instead, it’s mostly just used as an excuse to force Holly and Tim to interact with each other and bicker until they can finally admit that they’re in love.

#1: It goes (almost) nowhere.

And when it does finally go somewhere, it’s only relevant for a few episodes before it’s forgotten about. Holly’s participation in the portrait sittings soon becomes completely irrelevant, much like so many of the show’s early subplots which Late Maljardin’s headwriter Cornelius Crane chose to ignore. I suspect that the Holly portrait would have eventually became more significant in the main plot had Martin not been fired around Week 9. We may never know how it would have become so, nor how significant it would have become in his original outline. Who knows? Perhaps Martin would have crafted a shocking plot twist involving Holly that justified its existence. Perhaps he would have connected the portrait and its eventual fate somehow to the nightmare she had about Tarasca, having it reveal some terrifying truth about Maljardin’s past. At the very least, he might have used it to cement the romance between Tim and Holly. But instead the subplot ends with little payoff.

Tim on his subplot.

Still, despite the focus on the Holly portrait, this episode isn’t entirely a waste. Raxl saves it with her pleas to the Serpent and her attempt to contact the Conjure Woman, in all her scenery-chewing, melodramatic glory. There’s also a scene where Holly pressures her to read the two Tarot cards--the King of Swords (whom Matt identifies as Jean Paul) and the Queen of Cups (whom he interprets as Holly)--that she dropped on the floor earlier in the scene “just for kicks,” and she refuses, shouting “No!” repeatedly. If you love Raxl like I do, you’ll enjoy her scenes. They’re not Best of Raxl material, but they’re fun.

So long until my next review, which will cover Episode 25, followed by Week 5′s long overdue Bad Subtitle Special. I know that this is a change of pace from my usual recap-style reviews, but I really wanted to go into more detail about why I don’t like Tim’s subplot. I hope you enjoyed this post and I’ll see you again soon.

Coming up next: Elizabeth continues her attempted seduction of Jean Paul as we explore inter-generational conflict on Maljardin.

{ <- Previous: Episode 23 || Next: Episode 25 -> }

#strange paradise #soap opera #review #ian martin #maljardin arc #week 5 #episode 24 #foxless episodes #analysis #list #conjure doll and silver pin #the damned holly portrait #dark shadows #matt/his right hand #scenery chewing #soap opera tropes #speculation on ian martin's original story #symbolism #tarot

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coldtomyflash · 5 years

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I know your prompts are closed at the moment, but I've just had a light bulb moment that now just won't go away. I hope you'll put this out into the world anyway in the hopes that other writers might take a crack at it since you've probably got the wi(l)dest and most active coldflash reach that I can see. Please consider: Coldflash Firefly AU with Len as Captain Malcolm Reynolds. I have no idea where Barry will fit in with/sans powers but I JUST HAVE A BURNING NEED PLS HELP THANKS

Hmm okay Len as Mal?

If we make Barry the classic love interest in-universe, that puts Barry as Inara? But honestly I feel like we’d make Barry the doctor. What’s his name - Simon? River’s older brother.

Okay, so setup for those who haven’t seen Firefly, or haven’t seen it recently: it’s a space western in which mankind has colonized... nearby star-systems? Not the whole galaxy I don’t think but like, there’s a lot of planets? The Core Planets or whatever have basically this level of imperial control, and more resources etc - they’re the rich and powerful. The border planets are a bit lawless and like the wild west, though technically under the same jurisdiction as the Core.

Len (Mal) is Captain of Serenity, a spaceship that essentially is a transport vessel for small runs between border planets. He was part of a failed separatist rebellion against the core, and since half his business is illegal smuggling and some casual thievery, he does his best to stay away from the military and Core police-ships, etc.

Okay actual plot - there’s Len, the Captain. His sister, Lisa, who acts as First Mate, and who’s married to the navigator, Cisco. Caitlin, the ship mechanic (trust me, it actually fits), who is pretty much the only one that their violent mercenary muscle Mick doesn’t get at odds with.

Then we’ve got the more lawful members. In this world, there’s a rather respected and elevated position called a Companion, who is a sex worker but who also provides a great deal of companionship and works for predominately wealthy clients. Her presence on board gives the ship some respectability. I feel like the role of Companion in this AU is best suited for Iris, given the character’s grace and beauty, but also struggle with that for reasons I’ll get into in a sec.

So enter the inciting elements of the narrative: The Serenity is looking to take on passengers for a trip and they have some hot cargo they’re hiding/transporting, and part of the point of taking on passengers is to legitimize the trip and hide that cargo.

They take on a Doctor and a Shepherd (Reverend? Pastor? I legit don’t know the difference between these religious roles).

So by age and process of elimination the Shepherd goes to Joe, but I also think it honestly really fits, in the sense that the Shepherd is a secret badass who’s always dropping wisdom and has a history with the military that’s shrouded in mystery. Having Joe take up this role in the AU as a sort of father figure to the ship members makes a lot of sense.

Then we’ve got Barry! Finally. 3/4 into this answer and haven’t discussed Barry.

Barry’s a doctor from the Core. What’s this fancy-pants doing all the way out here, what’s with his weird ass cargo, and why’s he so goddamn cagey? Why’s he so jumpy when they run the risk of being boarded by the military? What’s he got to hide - isn’t he just a doctor?

Len does not like Barry showing up on his ship and shovelling lies in his direction and almost getting his ship boarded and his cargo found out and - that could have all been a goddamn disaster and clearly this guy is more trouble than he’s worth and Len’s had it up to here.

He opens Barry’s cargo.

Barry’s cargo, in which the cryo-frozen (still alive, just asleep) body of his sister is naked and waiting. Len gets the wrong idea. Barry gets punched. Barry is forced to explain -

It’s his sister. She was more or less abducted by the government. No one would believe him. He spent years saving her, and now they want her back. He doesn’t know what they did to her, but he knows it wasn’t good. She means everything to him - he’ll give up anything he has to protect her.

You can imagine why this pulls on Len’s heartstrings.

And - you can hopefully understand why I’m so torn on where to put Iris in this narrative. The Companion - the beautiful ingenue who Len holds a candle for even though she’s way out of his league, who is smart and sharp and capable? Or the most important person in the world to Barry and the one he’s doing all he can to protect? His best friend and a person he sees as a sister (blood relative or not, she means the world to him). Not to mention a super badass who everyone on the ship adores.

Best alternate options for the role of Companion on the ship seem to be Hartley and... I’m not even sure? Someone’s favorite Rogue? Just pick one, basically. Alternate options for River (the sister/friend/person Barry is seeking to protect and who he’s been smuggling around in cryo-freeze until right now) don’t seem to be forthcoming. Nora, possibly, or if you stretch in an interesting way then Wally? But I just have a hard time looking beyond people sees as super close and ideally familial to get at that connection.

So that’s where I’m at. Someone should write the thing. Play around with Firefly canon. Focus on the gvt more than the reavers but just like - get into it. Get into the space western of it all. Focus on the overarching plot and not the episodic ones and just take liberties with it all, but go hard and have fun.

Someone pls write the thing.

(Did I mention that the Captain and the Doctor argue a lot and that when I watched the show like a decade ago, I definitely shipped them? Because I definitely shipped them. City boy out of his depth in the west, but earning the Captain’s respect over time. The Captain threatening him but then slowly realizing that the Doctor has become part of his crew and thus part of the people he cares about and trusts? Gah!)

#coldflash #au's #firefly au #write the thing #Anonymous

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 4 years

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Moon founded “The World’s Greediest Church”

The cash that built the Moon organization’s “foundation.”

▲ Sun Myung Moon and Hak Ja Han of the Unification Church, now called the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification, with one of the marble pagodas that were sold to the Japanese for eye-watering sums. Moon and Han reportedly denied knowledge of the scam.

_________________________________________

by Ben Hills Sydney Morning Herald May 7, 1993

The Unification Church of Japan stated: “We do not participate in profit-making activities.”

“I don’t feel embarrassment … deep remorse is a better word,” confesses Kiyoharu Takahashi, blinking furiously behind his black-rimmed eyeglasses.

For 400 years, a small plot of land on the urban fringe of Tokyo had been in the family, once retainers of the local daimyo (lord of the manor). Five years ago, Mr Takahashi, then a university student, aged 26, persuaded his family to take out mortgages over the property. Although there is less than a hectare of land, it contains the family home, a turf farm, a rented house and two blocks of flats.

Even so, it still amazes Kiyoharu how much the banks were prepared to lend on it. By the time the credit dried up, he had received $67.5 million, repayments had fallen behind and the banks were threatening to foreclose. Four centuries of family history were about to go down the drain.

What caused this calamity ?

Every cent of the money – plus another $500,000 or so in savings that the Takahashis had put aside over the years – was handed over to an organisation Japanese are starting to call the greediest church in the world, the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity, known to the less devout as the Moonie church – the Unification Church (and now The Family Federation for World Peace and Unification).

Its founder and Pope is the Reverend Sun Myung Moon, a 73-year-old, thrice-married father of [more than] 13 who now lives in the United States, where he has done time in prison for [document fraud and] tax evasion.

Although he is better known for his mass marriage spectaculars – last year he hired the Olympic stadium in Seoul to celebrate the wedding of 30,000 followers, most of whom had never met each other before – Moon has spent the last 40 years building up a formidable religious multinational.

And Japan is the place where Moon Industries Inc, a conglomerate that trades under more than 100 corporate identities, has made its most spectacular, and some would say ungodly, gains.

Young Mr Takahashi is only one of 8,350 people who have come forward, claiming they have been ripped off by the Moonies, since a national legal network was set up to help them get their money back six years ago. The total amount they claim to have been cheated out of is a staggering $568 million. Cases are listed in more than a dozen courts.

Many of them, like Mr Takahashi, say they have been blackmailed into borrowing beyond their means, then handing the money over. In his case, barely credibly, he was told that his father’s Parkinson’s Disease was due to an ancient curse which could only be lifted from the family by prayer … and enormous amounts of money.

Another reformed Moonie – “Tomiko” is a 34-year-old English teacher from Tokyo – was told her lack of luck in love was because of the “dirty” money which she had saved. She took her life savings, $5,000, to a flat where the Moonies sprinkled salt in the four corners of the room, said prayers, and made it all disappear.

“Unfortunately, Japanese seem more susceptible to this sort of thing than people in other countries,” says Hiroshi Yamaguchi, a member of the lawyers’ network, who is handling cases for 25 former Moonies, including Takahashi, Tomiko, and a woman in Australia who was swindled out of $12,000.

People are being enticed into a range of activities which have no overt connection with the Moonies.

There are about 100 Moonie-owned “video centres” around Tokyo where people are invited in and then recruited.

Another favourite ploy is to organise conferences by front organisations, such as the World Peace Professors’ Academy, the Society of Field Flowers, the Japan-Korea Tunnel Task Force and even the Women’s Federation for World Peace, which last year held a meeting at Sydney’s Ritz Carlton Hotel.

No-one knows how many followers the Reverend Moon has attracted since he went international in the mid-1960s. He claims five million followers in 160 countries (including Australia) but a more realistic assessment by former members of the cult is around one-tenth that number [possibly at the zenith – now many fewer].

Even so, Japan – where there are thought to be around 20,000 hard-core Moonies – is beyond doubt one of the most profitable parts of his empire. Or was, until the recent deluge of bad publicity.

Tokyo’s tabloids have been agog for a month over the disappearance of Hiroko Yamasaki, a 33-year-old former Olympic gymnast, who has provided the church with acres of publicity since her marriage at the mass-wedding in Korea last year to a groom selected for her by the Rev Moon.

She reappeared, renouncing the church and claiming it had all been a terrible mistake.

▲ Hiroko Yamasaki facing nearly 200 journalists in April 1993.

After being indoctrinated the converts are put out on the streets of Tokyo to bring in other recruits, and to make money selling products door-to-door.

Mr Takahashi displays some of the products he was obliged to sell. There is a 300-gram jar of extract from Korean ginseng (a parsnip-like root which tastes a bit like tobacco and is reputed to be medicinal) – this sold for $1,000, when the over-the-counter price in Korea is about $150. The Reverend Moon’s Il Hwa factory near Seoul is South Korea’s largest ginseng processor.

A set of three name-seals, worth about $125, is sold for up to $15,000. All Moonies dream of selling the jewelled pagoda – a model studded with what look like bits of glass that goes for $67,500.

After her conversion, Tomiko became a real cash cow. Even though she had no property to put up as collateral, she borrowed more than $50,000 from eight different banks and handed it over. She sold her family a garage full of Moonie products – her mother paid $20,000 for a kimono, her father $8,000 for a sauna, among other things. “I became a saleswoman … they said it was the way to achieve heaven on earth.“

Gullible? Perhaps. But 8,349 more like her? Sadao Asami, professor of theology at Tohoku University, believes that there is something about the Japanese that makes them more susceptible to Moon’s brand of religion.

Professor Asami has earned a nickname, “the Devil’s priest”, from the Moonies because of the help he has given hundreds of families, “rescuing” their children from the Moonies. He has worked with 500 to 600 former followers. He says that Japanese remain dependent on their parents much longer than people in the West, and that they are thus more immature. As well, the Japanese culture entertains a variety of religious and superstitious beliefs.

They also, says Mr Yamaguchi, have a lot of money.

Until recently, the Tokyo Moonies have been trying to quietly settle most of the claims out of court. However, in January, Michio Fujii, the head of the church in Japan, wrote to Mr Yamaguchi apologising for the “mismanagement of subordinates of the Unification Church” – but saying that repayment of money would be “temporarily stopped.”

This means that Mr Takahashi is in trouble. The church had repaid most of the money and had taken over repayments on the loans. But $3 million is outstanding. The Moonies’ headquarters is in the fashionable suburb of Shibuya, a three-storey building that occupies most of a city block.

Unfortunately, neither Mr Fujii, nor anyone else, was willing to put the church’s point of view on these serious allegations. They later sent an anonymous fax, denying everything and claiming bare-facedly: “We do not participate in profit-making activities.”

The Unification Church’s own publications boast of a global business empire valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars.

The core is the Sae-il engineering company, which began making air-rifles, and now manufactures machine-tools in Korea, Germany and Africa. Then there is the Il Hwa company which produces more than 40 different pharmaceutical products, ginseng and soft-drinks; in Alabama, there is International Oceanic Enterprises which catches and packs seafood; in Alaska, the Master Marine company makes fibreglass fishing trawlers; the Moonies own the Paragon House publishing firm, the Washington Times newspaper and a four-storey complex in Barrytown, New York, where they run a theological seminary.

Although his worries are not over, Mr Takahashi – along with several thousand other former converts – is thankful to be out of it. And not to have to go through with the “marriage” he had in 1988 … along with 6,499 other couples. In a hall at a Seoul soft-drink factory, he saw his bride for the first time. “I had built up expectations of how beautiful she was going to be,” he says “When I saw her I got vertigo.”

Two of his fellow Moonies committed suicide. One, a middle-aged woman who was being pressured into handing over some land, jumped off a building. Another, a man who was married at a mass wedding, jumped in front of a car.

“At the time I believed in it,” says Mr Takahashi, “Now I know it was only blackmail and lies aimed at getting their money.”

▲ In 2006, the Moons were brought 240 gold crowns (120 for each ot them) in a procession at their $1billion palace in the mountains near Cheongpyeong.

___________________________________________

Hiroko Yamasaki (former Olympic athlete in rhythmic gymnastics) joined and left UC

“Moon betrayed his followers and distorted the church’s lofty goals by turning his movement into a huge money-making machine.”

“Japan. Wow! My eyes were opened.” A huge UC scam in Japan is revealed.

Video of Unification Church ABUSE in Japan shown in court

Moon personally extracted $500 MILLION from Japanese sisters in the fall of 1993. He demanded that 50,000 sisters attend HIS workshops on Cheju Island and each had to pay a fee of $10,000.

Japan High Court judge upholds “UC used members for profit, not religious purposes”. This has serious ramifications.

Religious Freedom for Japanese Members! (The FFWPU established a slave caste.)

Sun Myung Moon – Emperor of the Universe

#Greed #Sun Myung Moon #Hak Ja Han #Unification Church #Family Federation for World Peace and Unification

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clamshell20 · 5 years

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Black And Red All Over.

Synopsis: After witnessing her best friend and her boyfriend kiss, on Valentine’s Day, Lucy tries to bury her sorrows in the cemetery along with expressing her hatred for the holiday. Until she encounters a certain ginger haired kid who might give her hope.

(For those that support LucyxRocky!)

Leni: OMG! Chaz has given me a photo of us at Dairyland! Why do I look more like a figurine though?

Lori: Leni, that’s a drawn caricature of you and Chaz.

Leni: Oh. Well, I just love it.

Lori: That’s nothing. Bobby has given me a locket.

Leni: Why’s it broken?

Lori: It’s not. It’s one part of two lockets that symbolise your loved one being with you no matter what.

Luna: Dudes, that’s nothing! Me and Luan got cards with romantic sayings in them!

Luan: Mine’s “Like a monkey in a tree, you make me go bananas”. (Laughs) Get it?

Lynn Jr: Well, my team got to share their love via the kiss cam. Hugsies for pals and kissing for your boyfriends!

Lincoln: Well, I got cards from the girls in my class. (His sisters look at him with smug looks) Don’t look at me that way, they like me in a… plutonium way.

Lisa: I think the term is ‘platonic’.

Lincoln: Yeah, that. Everyone had cards from everyone. Even from their friends. Clyde’s was the biggest.

(Card reads “To my bestest friend ever… Happy Valentine’s Day! P.S. Tell Lori I said Hi.”)

Lori: Yep, that’s Clyde all right.

Lana: Same in our class.

Lisa: As was in mine too, I received both a romantic and platonic card from both David and Darcy.

Lori: Where’s Lucy? Mom and Dad said that they were preparing the Valentine’s day themed dinner.

Lola: She's probably moping. She's been doing that since lunch. Apparently her boyfriend was seen kissing her best friend.

Lincoln: Ouch. That must've been painful to watch. Do you know where she went after that?

Lola: Nah. Couldn’t have gone far though.

(We cut to the Royal Woods Cemetery, where Lucy is about to give a sermon)

Lucy: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the lost hopes and dreams that involved my past boyfriend Silas Syckle. Who was found today, kissing Miss Harley “Haiku” Haidenku with passion. My feelings for him now are betrayal. Followed with anger, followed with sorrow, followed with tears-

(She stops as she lets the tears fall onto the near dead grass. She sits on a nearby rock and sighs.)

I don’t even like this pointless holiday. A yearly event focused on assorted gougables with the same saying that has turned meaningless and just boring.

Ironically, this is only making me feel worse. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. You shall not be missed. And I shan't be talking with my best friend for a while.

(She buries grave and puts up a tombstone which reads: “To A Love That Died”.)

Sigh. Maybe I just don’t want to be alone. Even on the most pathetic of holidays. At least I have Edwin, shame he can't talk back. Again I feel worse.

(Fangs flies towards Lucy's shoulder)

Oh Fangs! I'm glad you're here to comfort me. Maybe we can spend valentines, looking at pictures of your family. It’ll be better than saying three certain words.

(She walks down to the gates only to be stopped by Fangs)

Lucy: What is it, boy? Have you spotted one of the dead rising?

(Fangs points to a funeral taking place, with a few familiar faces.)

Reverend: We are gathered today to mourn the loss of Rhonda Yolanda Spokewitz, beloved wife, mother and grandmother to all. Who taught us all that life is worth living and that it should be cherished.

Lucy: A funeral? Well, I guess I can watch from afar. Wait a minute. Those two look familiar. Rusty? Must've been his grandmother. Hang on, if he's here than so must be...

(She sees Rocky comforting his older brother since he openly mourns this loss.)

Lucy: My darling Rocky. How his heart aches, how his tears flow and I... I must go to him. Go to him and tell him how much I need him!

(She runs down but stops)

Lucy: Wait, if I tell him now, it'll be considered inappropriate. I'd better see him at his place, that where the wake should be held at.

(She then receives a text from Lincoln.)

"Luce where r u? Mom and Dad are about to prepare the Valentines dinner!"

"I have to let someone know I love him."

"Silas?"

"No, Rusty's brother."

"Ah, I see. Good luck! :-)"

Lynn Sr (off-screen): Lincoln? Did you contact your sister? I've just gathered the ingredients for the blood of Cupid. Otherwise known as Strawberry punch.

Lincoln: Lucy's busy trying to find a lost love to rekindle. Hasn’t confirmed when she’s coming though.

Lynn Sr: Well, she better be here soon cos this is a family tradition where I expect all my children to be!

Rita: Don't worry. I'll try to contact her once I've done making the hearts. Ow, paper cut!

(Meanwhile, Lucy is walking down with a card in her hand.)

Lucy: Well, a card is a start. With some simple cheery poetry I have written. THE most difficult thing I have ever done, almost threw my guts up. Well, here goes. You might want to leave in case he freaks out. No offence, its just that he's not one to embrace the darkness. Yet.

(Fangs vacates as she arrives at the house, but sees Rocky sitting on the doorstep with a melancholic look.)

Lucy: Oh, um Hi. Rocky. I was just on my way home and I thought I'd drop by to give you some comfort.

(He says nothing as she sits next to him.)

Lucy: Um, I'm very sorry for your loss. You know, I'm here for you.

Rocky:(Softly smiles) Thanks. You know, you're the only other person who's said that to me.

Lucy: Really? Who was the other one?

Rocky: Only my mother said that since my Dad is telling me to be strong as "real men don't cry" and my brother is trying very hard to follow his advice like a mindless sheep.

Lucy: Wow. So deep. Um, so I guess you haven't properly mourned, so to speak? I mean, in my point of view, if one of my bats had demised, I wouldn't hide my sorrow.

Rocky: Well, I'm just afraid that my dad will scold me for being so... So weak.

Lucy: Well, I don't think that's true. Crying should not be a weakness. You know, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there with open arms.

(She places her hand on his shoulder.)

Rocky: Thank you. You don't know how much I need this. I feel safe when I'm with you. My grandmother made sure of that as well. When I was bullied at school, when I was sick and especially when we sang together. I miss her so much.

(He hugs Lucy and openly mourns through sobbing. The door opens and his mother comes out.)

Rochelle: Aw sweetie, its ok. Let it out. If your father says otherwise, let me know. I’ll deal with him. Your grandmother loved you and Russell very much.

Rocky: Sh-She did?

(She nods and they embrace in a hug.)

Lucy: How heartwarming. Even I shed a tear. And I now learn that Rusty is short for Russell.

Rochelle: Who’s this?

Lucy: My name is Lucy. I'm Lincoln's sister. One of Rusty's friends. I was just comforting Rocky and letting him express his sorrow.

Rochelle: You know, I'm so glad you've done that. It’s best not to keep things emotionally bottled up, unlike my husband. He and my mother never got along. You know Rockefeller, we’re about to reminisce about the good times that we had with your gran. Whenever you’re ready, you can join us.

Rocky: (sniffles) Ok, thanks.

(She closes door behind her)

Thank you so much. You don't know how much I missed her. And how much I missed you.

Lucy: Really? (blushing) Well, since its valentines, I uh -

(She shakily hands Rocky the card, he opens it and smiles at the poem)

It reads:

“To a boy whose hair is red,

red as my beating and palpitating heart.

To you, I say, when I look into your eyes,

all I see is a work of art.

My darling, you may have heard these words many times before,

but I won’t leave you, not ever and I love you forever more.”

Rocky: Was it very hard to write this?

Lucy: (smiles) Definitely.

Rocky: Thank you. It's real sweet of you, I almost forgot today was valentines day.

Lucy: I-I love you, Rocky. I'll always be there for you.

Rocky: I love you too. Well, I'd better share my memories with the rest of the family. I hope you enjoy the rest of today.

Lucy: Thanks. Happy valentines day.

Rocky: Happy valentines day.

(She walks off home with a smile, the same with Rocky as he goes back into his house. Her phone vibrates as Rita tries to contact her)

Rita: Lucy, where are you? Dinner's almost ready and Pop-pop has just come over here with Gran-gran. Something about a surprise.

(What she doesn’t notice is behind her Pop-Pop hiding an engagement ring in one of the courses.)

Lucy: I was just heading back home actually. I gave someone a valentine. Making sure that he feels safe.

Rita: Wow. Sweetie, that's so kind of you. Would you mind telling us more when you get here?

Lucy: Ok. I'll see you soon.

(Fangs reappears on her shoulder)

Lucy: Well Fangs, I've done it. I got to spread my love like a deadly plague after all. Although maybe I should write a darker poem for next time.

(She then receives a text from Haiku.)

"I am feeling grief at the moment. Since your boyfriend is now mine. I hope and pray this doesn't destroy our friendship."

"I forgive you, you and Silas make a good pair. Besides, I have rekindled a romance I thought was lost a long time ago."

"Is it with that ginger kid?"

"Rocky? Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. I always thought you two made a good pair."

"Thanks. Have a gloomy valentines."

"You too. :-)"

Lucy: Looks like my friendship with Haiku is still strong. I still think valentines is pointless but I have learned its best to be with someone you love. Valentines Day or not. Ugh, I feel so cheesy. Maybe a cup of Cupid’s blood will drain me of this sudden sappy and icky feeling.

The end.

Well, that’s what I have to show for Valentine’s. I hope you loved it as much as I had writing it!

Have a great Valentine’s!

AMC 2019

(The Loud House belongs to Nickelodeon.)

#the loud house #nickelodeon #Lucky #lucyxrocky #Lucy Loud #rocky spokes #happyvalentinesday

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therealkn · 5 years

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David’s Resolution: Day -2

Day -2 (December 30, 2018)

The Night of the Hunter (1955)

“And then the good Lord went on to say, ‘Beware of false prophets which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly, they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit. Neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Wherefore by their fruits, ye shall know them.’”

There have been plenty of actors who’ve tried their hand at directing films, with varying degrees of success. A big example is Ron Howard, who started out acting in The Andy Griffith Show and Happy Days, then went on to become an accomplished filmmaker with a lot of good films like Apollo 13 and A Beautiful Mind. Clint Eastwood’s had a pretty solid career as a director, with films like Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby. Same with Rob Reiner, who went from being known as Michael “Meathead” Stivic on All in the Family to being known as the director of This is Spinal Tap, The Princess Bride and Misery (and also North, much as we’d like to forget that film exists).

Mel Gibson took on directing Braveheart himself, and that film was also a big success commercially and critically (also has a great soundtrack by James Horner); same thing with Tom Hanks and That Thing You Do!. But not every actor who goes into directing met big success, at least initially, and one such example is Charles Laughton.

Charles Laughton was a great actor whose more memorable roles include William Porterhouse in 1932′s The Old Dark House, Dr. Moreau in 1932′s Island of Lost Souls (a really good old horror movie where he is the best thing in it), and Quasimodo in the 1939 adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which portrayed Claude Frollo as a judge over 50 years before Disney’s animated adaptation of the story. He was a fantastic actor who sadly directed only one film, but at least the film he made is fucking incredible and one of the best thrillers of all time.

The Night of the Hunter is the story of one Rev. Harry Powell, played by Robert Mitchum. Powell is a traveling preacher who also happens to be a serial killer operating in the same vein as Bluebeard: he finds wealthy widows, marries them, kills them, takes their money, rinse, repeat. And his latest target is Willa Harper (played by Shelley Winters), a widow living in Depression-era rural West Virginia. Willa’s husband Ben (played by Peter Graves) was arrested, sent to prison, and executed for bank robbery and killing two men during the robbery, but it just so happens that Ben’s cellmate was Rev. Powell himself, who was serving time for car theft. And Powell learns that Ben, before his arrest, gave the money to his two children - his son John and his daughter Pearl - for them to hide, meaning that not only is Powell going to go after Willa, he’s going to go after her kids.

So after Powell is released from prison, he goes to Willa’s town and begins charming his way into the town and endearing himself to the townsfolk, which does two things. One is to show Robert Mitchum’s talents as an actor: he is legitimately charming and charismatic as he tells the now-famous story of why the words “hate” and “love” are tattooed on his knuckles, and he quickly endears himself to the town and to Willa and Pearl, even to the viewer in some degree. And that’s where the other thing comes in, and that is that it shows how goddamn terrifying Robert Mitchum can be.

I ended the It Happened One Night review saying “Robert Mitchum is a scary motherfucker”, and this movie shows why. There’s a reason the American Film Institute put Powell on their list of the 50 greatest movie villains of all time. The way Mitchum plays Powell is captivating not only in how charismatic he is, but also in how sinister he is. At all times, even when he’s singing hymns with the townsfolk at an outdoor picnic, there is always this sense that something doesn’t feel right. Even when he is played a little more for comedy, like when he’s peeking upside-down at Ben in prison like he’s Kilroy, or when he’s hollering like Daffy Duck after getting shot in the arm (we’ll get to that later), there’s still this feeling of unease around him. If anything, the fact he can be more comedic makes him scarier because it makes him feel more like an actual person. It makes him more grounded and fleshed out and all the more disturbing.

Powell soon marries Willa and kills her, but not before convincing her that she has been a wicked woman - their honeymoon is him making her feel ashamed for wanting sex in a marriage, and she soon adapts herself to her beliefs. This leads to what I feel is the most disturbing and terrifying scene in the movie, where Willa is preaching to the townsfolk about her “formerly wicked” ways, surrounded by torches as she preaches her rhetoric. It’s legitimately terrifying to see her indoctrinated into these beliefs and speaking these words in this way.

Willa dies at Powell’s hands, and it eventually leads to John and Pearl striking out on their own, travelling downriver to avoid the pursuing Powell. This eventually brings them to Rachel Cooper, an old woman played by Lillian Gish who takes care of stray children, and who takes them in to live with her. Rachel is established as a badass old lady who does have a very kind and understanding side. The film reaches its peak when Powell tracks the children to Rachel, who doesn’t buy his sob story about Willa’s death for one moment and, when Powell goes after John, immediately goes for her shotgun to force Powell off, leading into a tense nighttime standoff between the reverend and Rachel. And how it ends... yeah, not spoiling this one. You’ll have to see it for yourself.

Put simply, it’s really depressing that Laughton didn’t direct another film. This is one of those movies that took some time to be seen as a classic. When it first came out, it did not do very well with critics or audiences, and it really got to Laughton to where he didn’t direct another film. It sucks because I’d have loved to have seen him direct more films, because if The Night of the Hunter is anything to go by, he’d have given us more great classics like it. This makes me wonder if after his death, he saw the film’s reception even today and how so many see it as a classic.

All the acting in the film is great, from Mitchum and Gish and Winters to the child actors, even to the Spoons, an old couple who are friends with the Harper family and whom the wife Icey (yes, her name is Icey Spoon) I absolutely fucking hate as a character. That’s not a bad thing, I think she was designed to be a character you hate, and if that is the case then it’s done very well. The music by Walter Schumann is excellent at conveying mood, especially when things get dark. But then you get to the cinematography and the lighting, and that’s the really good shit.

That screenshot I used for the film is the perfect example of that. The use of lighting in this film is god-tier and there are few films before or since that have used light like The Night of the Hunter. The symbolism behind it is very simple - light and dark, good and evil - but it’s absolutely striking. There are shots that are beautiful to look at and haunting at the same time: the ethereal depiction of Willa’s body in her car at the bottom of the river, the whole thing framed like a painting; the shot of John and Pearl sleeping in a barn when John sees Powell on horseback in the distance, searching for the kids; and the scenes with John and Pearl floating downriver, with the night sky above and the animals watching on the ground. There’s some really beautiful imagery in the film and it’s worth watching just for that.

I highly recommend this movie. Just the cinematography and lightning’s enough to make you want to see this movie for how great it looks, but it’s also a top-notch thriller with one of cinema’s greatest and most terrifying villains. Also, this is the first movie that I’d recommend you watch in the dark, preferably in the evening or in the early morning before the sun rises.

Next time: a Joan of Arc film, but not the kind you’re thinking of.

#David's resolution #The Night of the Hunter

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blackkudos · 6 years

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Ira Aldridge

Ira Frederick Aldridge (July 24, 1807 – August 7, 1867) was an American and later British stage actor and playwright who made his career after 1824 largely on the London stage and in Europe, especially in Shakespearean roles. Born in New York City, Aldridge is the only actor of African-American descent among the 33 actors of the English stage honored with bronze plaques at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre at Stratford-upon-Avon. He was especially popular in Prussia and Russia, where he received top honors from heads of state.

He was married twice, once to an Englishwoman, once to a Swedish woman, and had a family in England. Two of his daughters became professional opera singers.

Early life and career

Aldridge was born in New York City to Reverend Daniel and Luranah Aldridge on July 24, 1807. At age 13, Aldridge went to the African Free School in New York City, established by the New York Manumission Society for the children of free black people and slaves. They were given a classical education, with the study of English grammar, writing, mathematics, geography, and astronomy. His classmates at the African free school included Charles L. Reason, George T. Downing, and Henry Highland Garnet. His early exposure to theater included viewing plays from the high balcony of the Park Theatre, New York's leading theater of the time, and seeing productions of Shakespeare's plays at the African Grove Theatre.

Aldridge's first professional acting experience was in the early 1820s with the African Company, a group founded and managed by William Henry Brown and James Hewlett. In 1821, the group built the African Grove Theatre, the first resident African-American theatre in the United States.

Aldridge made his acting debut as Rolla, a Peruvian character in Richard Brinsley Sheridan's Pizarro. He may have also played the male lead in Romeo and Juliet, as reported later in an 1860 memoir by his schoolfellow, Dr. James McCune Smith.

Confronted with the persistent discrimination which black actors had to endure in the United States, Aldridge emigrated to Liverpool, England, in 1824 with actor James Wallack. During this time the Industrial Revolution had begun, bringing about radical economic change that helped expand the development of theatres. The British Parliament had already outlawed the slave trade and was moving toward abolishing slavery in the British colonies, which increased the prospect of black actors being able to perform.

Having limited onstage experience and lacking name recognition, Aldridge concocted a story of his African lineage, claiming to have descended from the Fulani princely line. By 1831 he had taken the name of Keene, a homonym for the then popular British actor, Edmund Kean. Aldridge observed a common theatrical practice of assuming an identical or similar nomenclature to that of a celebrity in order to garner attention. In addition to being called F.W. Keene Aldridge, he would later be called African Roscius, after the famous Roman actor of the first century BCE.

On October 10, 1825, Aldridge made his European debut at London's Royal Coburg Theatre, the first African-American actor to establish himself professionally in a foreign country. He played the lead role of Oroonoko in The Revolt of Surinam, or A Slave's Revenge; this play was an adaptation of Thomas Southerne's Oroonoko (itself adapted from Aphra Behn's original work).

According to the scholar Shane White, English people had heard of the African Theatre because of British actor and comedian Charles Mathews, so Aldridge associated himself with that. Bernth Lindfors says:

[W]hen Aldridge starts appearing on the stage at the Royalty Theatre, he's just called a gentleman of color. But when he moves over to the Royal Coburg, he's advertised in the first playbill as the American Tragedian from the African Theater New York City. The second playbill refers to him as 'The African Tragedian'. So everybody goes to the theater expecting to laugh because this is the man they think Mathews saw in New York City.

An innovation Aldridge introduced early in his career was a direct address to the audience on the closing night of his engagement at a given theatre. Especially in the years leading up to the emancipation of all slaves in the British colonies in 1832, he would speak of the injustice of slavery and the passionate desire for freedom of those held in bondage.

Critique

During Aldridge's seven-week engagement at the Royal Coburg, the young actor starred in five plays. He earned admiration from his audiences while most critics emphasized Aldridge's lack of stage training and experience. According to modern critics Errol Hill and James Vernon Hatch, early reviews were mixed. For The Times he was "baker-kneed and narrow-chested with lips so shaped that it is utterly impossible for him to pronounce English"; the Globe found his conception of Oroonoko to be very judicious and his enunciation distinct and sonorous; and The Drama described him as "tall and tolerably well proportioned with a weak voice that gabbles apace."

Aldridge performed scenes from Othello that impressed reviewers. One critic wrote, "In Othello (Aldridge) delivers the most difficult passages with a degree of correctness that surprises the beholder." He gradually progressed to larger roles; by 1825, he had top billing at London's Coburg Theatre as Oronoko in A Slave's Revenge, soon to be followed by the role of Gambia in The Slave, and the title role of Shakespeare's Othello. He also played major roles in plays such as The Castle Spectre and The Padlock. In search of new and suitable material, Aldridge also appeared occasionally as white European characters, for which he would be appropriately made up with greasepaint and wig. Examples of these are Captain Dirk Hatteraick and Bertram in Rev. R. C. Maturin's Bertram, the title role in Shakespeare's Richard III, and Shylock in The Merchant of Venice.

Touring and later years

In 1831 Aldridge successfully played in Dublin; at several locations in southern Ireland, where he created a sensation in the small towns; as well as in Bath and Edinburgh, Scotland. The actor Edmund Kean praised his Othello; some took him to task for taking liberties with the text, while others attacked his race. Since he was an American black actor from the African Theatre, The Times called him the "African Roscius", after the famed actor of ancient Rome. Aldridge used this to his benefit and expanded African references in his biography that appeared in playbills. In June 1844 he made appearances on stage in Exmouth (Devon, England).

Aldridge first toured to continental Europe in 1852, with successes in Germany, where he was presented to the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and performed for Frederick William IV of Prussia; he also performed in Budapest. An 1858 tour took him to Serbia and to Imperial Russia, where he became acquainted with Count Fyodor Tolstoy, Mikhail Shchepkin and the Ukrainian poet and artist Taras Shevchenko, who did his portrait in pastel.

Now of an appropriate age, about this time, he played the title role of King Lear (in England) for the first time. He purchased some property in England, toured Russia again (1862), and applied for British citizenship (1863).

Marriage and family

Soon after going to England, in 1824 Aldridge married Margaret Gill, an English woman. They were married for 40 years until her death in 1864.

Aldridge's first son, Ira Daniel, was born in May 1847. The identity of his mother is unknown, but it could not have been Margaret Aldridge, who was 49 years old and had been in ill health for years. She raised Ira Daniel as her own; they shared a loving relationship until her death. He emigrated to Australia in February 1867.

A year after Margaret's death, on April 20, 1865, Aldridge married his mistress, the self-styled Swedish countess Amanda von Brandt (1834-1915). They had four children: Irene Luranah, Ira Frederick and Amanda Aldridge, who all went on to musical careers, the two girls as opera singers. Their daughter Rachael Frederica was born shortly after Aldridge's death and died in infancy. Brandt died in 1915 and is buried at Highgate Woods, London.

Aldridge spent most of his final years with his family in Russia and continental Europe, interspersed with occasional visits to England. He planned to return to the post-Civil-War United States, but he died in August 1867 while visiting Łódź, Poland.

His remains were buried in the city's Evangelical Cemetery; 23 years passed before a proper tombstone was erected. His grave is tended by the Society of Polish Artists of Film and Theatre.

A half-length portrait of 1826 by James Northcote shows Aldridge dressed for the role of Othello, but in a relatively undramatic portrait pose, is on display at the Manchester Art Gallery (in the Manchester section). Aldridge performed in the city many times. A blue plaque unveiled in 2007 commemorates Aldridge at 5 Hamlet Road in Upper Norwood, London. The plaque describes him as the 'African Roscius'.

Ira Aldridge Troupe

Aldridge enjoyed enormous fame as a tragic actor during his lifetime, but after his death, he was soon forgotten [in Europe]. The news of Ira Aldridge's death in Poland and the record of his achievement as an actor reached the American black community slowly. In African-American circles, Aldridge was a legendary figure. Many black actors viewed him as an inspirational model, so when his death was revealed, several amateur groups sought to honor his memory by adopting his name for their companies.

Many troupes were being founded in various places around America. In the late nineteenth century Aldridge-titled troupes were established in Washington, DC, in Philadelphia, and in New Haven, their respective productions at the time being an adaptation of Kotzebue's Die Spanier in Peru by Sheridan as Pizarro in 1883, School by Thomas William Robertson in 1885, and George Melville Baker's Comrades in 1889.

The most prominent troupe named for him was the Ira Aldridge Troupe in Philadelphia, founded in 1863, some 35 years after Aldridge left the US for good. The Ira Aldridge Troupe was a minstrelsy group that caricatured Irish white men. The Ira Aldridge Troupe is unique in annals of minstrelsy; it was named for a Black actor who had left his homeland some 35 years before and achieved fame in Europe. Unlike most, later, Black minstrel companies, the Aldridge Troupe apparently did not do plantation material, although they were billed as a 'contraband troupe'—that is, fugitive slaves. Perhaps because of their substantially Black audience, the troupe felt no need to "put on the mask." Although much of the material the group performed was standard fare, several of the company's acts were downright subversive.

The Ira Aldridge Troupe appearing during the American Civil War made it "unique in the annals of minstrelsy." The Clipper (New York City) thought it was important enough to review; and it performed before a mixed audience, at a time when often white and black audiences were separated. Third, it was a black troupe presenting a program designed to appeal to their black audience. The Ira Aldridge Troupe performances eschewed the southern genre of old "darkies" longing for the plantation. The exclusion of southern nostalgia may have been in deference to a majority-black audience. The New York Clipper reported them as "A more incorrigible set of cusses we never saw; they beat our Bowery gods all to pieces."

The troupe also created performances and songs that referred to the continuing Civil War. A ballad, "When the Cruel War is Over", became well known; it was performed by three members of the troupe—Miss S. Burton, Miss R. Clark, and Mr. C. Nixon. The song sold over a million copies of sheet music and was one of the most popular sentimental songs of the Civil War. The song describes a soldier's farewell to his lady, the wounds he receives in battle, and his dying request for a last caress. The song, highly popular with white minstrel groups, was an example of the change in white minstrelsy that had been occurring at this time.)

Another popular production was a farce called The Irishman and the Stranger, with a Mr. Brown playing a character called Pat O'Callahan and a Mr. Jones playing the Stranger. This farce displayed black actors in white face speaking in a "nigger accent". The Clipper reporter referred to the performance as a "truly laughable affair, the 'Irish nagur' mixing up a rich Irish brogue promiscuously with the sweet nigger accent". Perhaps the Aldridge Troupe's audience got its biggest satisfaction, however, from the role reversal inherent in the piece: since the beginning of minstrelsy, minstrels of Irish heritage, such as Dan Bryant and Richard Hooley, had been caricaturing Black men—now it was the turn of Black men to caricature the Irish.

The history of minstrelsy also shows the cross-cultural influences, with Whites adopting elements of Black culture. The Ira Aldridge Troupe tried to pirate that piracy, and, in collaboration with its audience, turn minstrelsy to its own ends.

Aldridge family

Ira Daniel Aldridge, 1847–?. Teacher. Migrated to Australia in 1867.

Irene Luranah Pauline Aldridge, 1860–1932. Opera singer.

Ira Frederick Olaff Aldridge, 1862–?. Musician and composer.

Amanda Christina Elizabeth Aldridge (Amanda Ira Aldridge), 1866–1956. Opera singer, teacher and composer under name of Montague Ring.

Rachael Margaret Frederika Aldridge, 1867, died in infancy.

Legacy and honors

Aldridge received awards for his art from European heads of state and governments: the Prussian Gold Medal for Arts and Sciences from King Frederick William III, the Golden Cross of Leopold from the Czar of Russia, and the Maltese Cross from Bern, Switzerland.

Aldridge is the only African American to have a bronze plaque among the 33 actors honored at the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre at Stratford-upon-Avon.

Aldridge's legacy inspired the dramatic writing of African-American playwright Henry Francis Downing, who in the early 20th century became "probably the first person of African descent to have a play of his or her own written and published in Britain."

In 2002, scholar Molefi Kete Asante listed Ira Aldridge in his 100 Greatest African Americans.

His life was the subject of a play, Red Velvet, by Lolita Chakrabarti and starring Adrian Lester, produced at the Tricycle Theatre in London in 2012.

Howard University Department of Theatre Arts, a historically black university in Washington, DC, has a theatre named after Ira Aldridge.

Aldridge's Othello has been highly influential in starting a series of respected performances by African Americans in Othello in the 1800s and early 1900s which includes: John A. Arneaux, John Hewlett, and Paul Robeson.

The Black Doctor (1847)

The Black Doctor, originally written in French by Auguste Anicet-Bourgeois, was adapted by Aldridge for the English stage. The Black Doctor is a romantic play about Fabian, a bi-racial physician, and his patient Pauline, the daughter of a French aristocrat. The couple falls in love and marries in secret. Although the play depicts racial and family conflict, and ends with Fabian's death, Aldridge portrays his title character with dignity. Some plot points mirror Aldridge's own life, as he married a white Englishwoman.

Wikipedia

#Ira Aldridge #07-24 #08-07

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sjecblogarchive · 10 years

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SAINT JAMES’ LOOKS FORWARD TO 200 YEARS!

04/25/2014

BY BONNIE

SAINT JAMES’ LOOKS FORWARD TO 200 YEARS!

In anticipation of the 200th anniversary of Saint James’ Church in Warrenton (1816‐2016), the History Committee will delve into parish archives and other sources and bring to light choice bits of history to inform and perhaps entertain parishioners, starting now and continuing into our bicentennial year 2016.

Here is the fifth essay in the series:

A look back…Saint James’ Episcopal Church 1816-2016

The Reverend James Keith

First Rector of Hamilton Parish

It is useful to review briefly the origins of our parish, which take us back to 1730 when the parish was established and named for Lord George Hamilton, appointed Governor of Virginia by King William III Saint James’ is the third parish church of Hamilton Parish, preceded by the earlier churches at Elk Run and Turkey Run. Fauquier County, created in 1759 during the reign of George II, was named for Francis Fauquier, Lieutenant Governor of Virginia. In 1730, Hamilton Parish covered a vast area; today, the parish encompasses about 140 square miles in central Fauquier County.

At Saint James’ Church, on the chancel’s east wall, the reader’s attention is invited to a memorial tablet which reads:

+ To The Glory of God and in memory of THE REV. JAMES KEITH of Peterhead, Scotland 16- -1751 First minister of Hamilton Parish This Tablet is Erected by His Descendants on the 200th Anniversary of the Formation of the Parish May 1930

Remembrances of a Parishioner Spanning over 300 Years

The late Jack Keith (John A. C. Keith 1907-1987), a descendant of the first minister, and a member of Saint James’ Church wrote, in his retirement, a series of essays on the history of the Keith family, recalling stories and memories passed down through the generations, and drawing on old family letters and diaries. An excerpt follows: “My own memory does not begin with my birth in 1907, but goes back vicariously to the 1680s when Parson Keith was born in Aberdeenshire (Scotland). My father, who was born in 1870, was raised in the home of his grandmother. That lady, born in 1800 and living until 1887 lived through stirring times and was blessed with a reliable imagination and an excellent memory. “She was intimate with her mother-in-law, and an aunt who, born in 1776, lived to be almost 100. This remarkable woman had lived in the house with her mother-in-law, Mary Isham-Randolph, who was born about 1700 and married Parson Keith. In the twilight evenings of long ago I listened while the old people talked. “… after his (Keith’s) arrival in Virginia, it is not possible to get a chronological account of Parson Keith’s life. We know that he was rector of old St. John’s Church in what is now Richmond, the edifice made famous by (Patrick) Henry’s ‘Give me liberty or give me death’ speech. “When Hamilton Parish was formed in 1730, he became its first rector (probably in 1733). He is also supposed to have served in Maryland and in Dettingen Parish in Prince William County, but no dates are given. “He was in Hamilton Parish for nigh onto 20 years and at his death was buried under the altar of Elk Run Church, said to be a cruciform edifice, gone long since. Bishop Meade, in his ‘Old Churches and Families of Virginia’, published in 1860, calls the Parson a good man, while other later historians allege he was casual in carrying out his duties. “He must, at least, have been well educated as his daughter was able to give good instruction to her son, the future Chief Justice John Marshall. Senator Beveridge, in his definitive life of John Marshall, credits the latter’s genius to the brilliance of his Randolph/Keith blood combined with the steadiness of the Yomen Marshalls. (Note: James Keith married Mary Isham Randolph, daughter of Thomas Randolph of Tuckahoe on the upper James River, the most important family in that part of Virginia.) “A ghost story of which mother kept a longhand account in her Bible in which Mrs. DuPont-Lee tells in her ‘Virginia Ghosts’ may be recounted briefly here. “As a student in Aberdeen, Parson Keith’s best friend was a youth named Fraser. They were very intimate and discussed all manner of things, including the reality of God and life hereafter. “They had many doubts, and agreed that the first one who died, if he found there was an afterlife, would return to tell his friend. The story goes that Fraser went out to India to serve the Honorable Company and Keith came to Virginia. “In his old age, Parson Keith employed a housekeeper, Mrs. MacCloud. One day she went to milk the cows and a man in elaborate military dress appeared before her, told her who he was, that there was a life hereafter and to tell her master that he would die soon. “She was frightened and did not tell her master. A few days later the same officer appeared in an apparition telling her to give his message to her master as time was running out. This time she did so. Parson Keith recognized the description as his old friend. He put his affairs in order and died soon after.”

Members of the Keith family continue to live in Fauquier County and are communicants of Saint James’ Church. Additional material on Parson Keith is available in other sources, e.g., his birth date (not shown on the memorial tablet) is given as 1697.

Compiled:RGookin November 2014

File:The Reverend James Keith

Submitted: History Committee

2015

File: BELL TOWER

CATEGORIES GENERAL

http://saintjameswarrenton.org/thank/

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sextonsharpwinhalstead · 6 years

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Chicago Med Review 3x10 Down By Law

I liked this episode. FINALLY! It was not without it’s faults, the usual Med sexism issues that I can tell they think they are being progressive about but actually aren’t.

My absolute favorite scenes were with Ava! She had me laughing so many times. She perpetually side eyes Connor and makes jokes. I feel like this woman he slept with is one of many that must be happening off-screen. This is my headcannon for him. To be reckless and have it spill into his work life, however they are still playing the apology game with him. I know when it comes to promiscuity there really isn’t a black and white way to view it, but I think we have only come to think that way because women have had to fight to have sexual agency and autonomy in a world that shames them for thinking of their pleasure first.

This is not the case for Connor Rhodes. He has been shown to be an all around “good guy” but he’s written by men who are probably dancing around the Time’s Up movement. They have hammered home his integrity just, so they could get us to the point where Connor could unapologetically sleep with everyone. It’s here people; say hello to the Severide of Med. The only difference is Severide doesn’t have the cowardice writing of good guy bad guy dichotomy ,you know there’s’ a 50/50 shot of him calling you back, and potentially only to screw. Their playing with this with Connor but won’t go all in yet.

*Total side note but have you noticed that Connor pulls together quips from Ava here and there to try and understand her, but she goes full on into finding out who he is via the rumor mill?

Med stumbled into some territory they could not have foresaw as well. Since the show has been on hiatus for 3 weeks barring the Olympics a lot has gone down in this country and it would be hard to miss the mass shooting in Parkland. There is a lot of ideas and thoughts being thrown around but many including, 45, have thought about arming teachers.

This Med episode discusses what happens when good people try to take on the bad guys. Barry is a trained EMT but working in some dangerous climates has him carrying a gun. He was able to defend himself but not at the cost of injuring Natalie, getting shot himself, and having one of his bullets unintentionally shoot a bystander. He saved lives but at what cost to him? His psyche? Or the people he hurt? None of these have easy answers but I think the opportunity to discuss these issues was ripe in this episode whether they realized it or not.

Unfortunately, the worst damage he inflicted came from something intangible. At first it would seem the news Maggie doesn’t know about Barry is the fact that he carries a gun, however it’s the fact that his name isn’t Barry at all. I wonder if we will get more from this story, such as a reason for the change. Otherwise what was the purpose of this story? Maggie is the character I care about, and all being with Barry has told me about her is that she was cheated on however many years ago they still won’t specify and to add insult to injury she was lied to even more extensively then we are led to believe...what is the point of this storyline? I still don’t care about Barry.

The least bit of fallout was the injury to Natalie. Although a lot more severe than originally thought. Why in the world was she not checked out or examined? All those friends who happen to be doctors and nurses and NO ONE thought about examining her even AFTER she complained of head pain? I liked the story she was given, and Natalie here reminded me of season one Natalie. The fact is, she had good points and was COMPLETELY in the right when she said that Will makes unilateral decisions for her and this would have been a GREAT moment to discuss his past sexist behavior with her, but nope. It all gets blamed on her head injury and before she can tell us what she wants from him she collapses….cause women don’t really know what they want *wink wink* eye-roll into oblivion.

By then end of this story she is reassuring Will that he is farther than most men in feminist ideology (not true) and says that women (actually a 14 year old girl) are tougher than you think.

This isn’t about “tough” this is fucking rape people! Oh, and not just fiction it’s still completely legal in a ton of states. A 13 year old child is given away to some “Reverend” by her own father and has no say in the marriage or over her body….i.e she CANNOT consent. DO you have any idea what kind of hell that must be, to be forced to have sex with someone you don’t want to…for the REST OF YOUR LIFE? And from the looks of it the same thing happened to her mother who dies at the ripe old age of 19.That poor girl was not about to continue the cycle of abuse and she understood that, at 14; what two grown men didn’t.

The very thing men seem to think makes us women isn’t as important to us as it is to them. It’s not. I don’t know very many enlightened women who would blink at the chance to give up being able to carry life it meant not living in hell.

Sarah’s story was intriguing. I like this side of Sarah and what she did was incredibly dangerous, but she saw something in him that she felt she could help. However, this is the umpteenth time we have seen her not listen to Dr. Charles either. What is the point of begging to be on his service over and over again if she isn’t really going to listen to him? I mean shit at least let him try his method before you go all rogue. Where’s the fire at? That man hadn’t even been there a day.

All in all, I still very much enjoyed the episode. I liked the pacing and the direction. I can’t wait for the next two episodes when Sarah’s dad and Ethan’s sister enter the picture. Cross your fingers we see Ethan and April at his place…nekkid.

If you enjoy this I’ll be discussing the episode further on my podcast The TwinFish Podcast which you can now find on iTunes!

#chicago med #chicago med review #Down By Law #episode 9 #connor rhodes #ava bekker #sarah reese #will halstead #natalie manning #maggie lockwood #tw rape

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victorluvsalice · 6 years

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AU Thursday: Wonderland Fuzz -- Casting Call! Part 1

All right, I gave you an overview and a few details on the AU last week -- this week, I’m giving you some of my initial ideas on who plays what in this AU, and a couple of notes as to why! This is “Part 1″ because I’m still debating over who in the fandoms fits certain roles best. Got most of them, though! For spoiler and length reasons, everyone past our main two is going under a readmore.

Alice Liddell as Nicholas Angel -- Determined, takes no shit, surprisingly good with weaponry, perhaps tries a little too hard to prove herself sometimes, will not stop when it comes to bringing evil to justice? Alice in a nutshell, baby. And as I stated before, the idea of her as the super-serious super-cop who eventually finds friendship/love and learns how to calm down a bit appeals to me.

Victor Van Dort as Danny Butterman -- Okay, admittedly Danny is pretty much NOTHING like Victor, but hot-gluing a few of his traits onto my boy -- namely his love of action movies -- amuses me. Plus I do headcanon my Victors as the sort who would appreciate having a bit of adventure in their lives (at least before the CB incident), which goes well with Danny's want to experience "real action and shit." Hot Fuzz also doesn't officially have a romance, but -- well. Nicholas was going to have a female love interest (named Victoria, of all things), but she ended up cut -- and her lines given to Danny. With minimal editing, from what I understand. So yeah, everyone (including Pegg, Frost, and Wright) just accepts Nick and Danny enter a relationship at some point. With this being a Valice AU, of course Victor has to be in the "love interest" spot.

Sandford Police Service

William Van Dort as Frank Butterman -- As I said in the first post, the idea of kindly William turning out to be evil just tickles me. He also fits Frank pretty well personality-wise -- they're both fairly affable, make their fair share of dumb jokes, and are inspired largely by their wives' wants (Frank does what he does because his wife so desperately wanted to win Village of the Year that, when Sandford lost at the last minute thanks to some traveling Rromani, she killed herself driving her car off a cliff -- Nell of course will do the same in the backstory of this AU).

The March Hare and the Dormouse (humanized into Marchand Hare and Dormand Mouse) as detectives Andy Wainright and Andy Cartwright (the Andys) -- Duo who are pretty much never seen apart, are clearly best friends with each other against the world, are kind of lazy but capable of good work, can be rude and abrasive but also helpful to the main character? Sounds like March and Dormy to me! The best part is their humanized names keeps both the "March and Dormy" nicknames we're familiar with from Alice stuff, plus the "Andys" nickname from the original movie.

The Hatter (Richard Hatter) as Tony Fisher -- Again, a largely-incompetent fellow who believes himself to be better than he is, but is capable of moments of competence, even genius? Sounds good for Hatter! And Tony regularly begging Nick for help during police work in the movie does kind of remind me of Hatter demanding Alice's help in finding his limbs in A:MR.

Emily (Cartwell) & Victoria Everglot as Doris Thatcher -- Okay, TECHNICALLY only Emily is playing Doris, as she's the one I can see cracking Doris's dirty jokes. The reason Victoria's "sharing" the role is that I wanted her to be part of the station set, but there isn't another woman officer in Sandford, and she's not appropriate for Bob Walker. So Victoria is a new character who patrols with Emily and who everyone just assumes is Emily's best friend. Only Victor (and later Alice) know the truth that they're actually dating. (Yes, Victor did actually date both of them in the past -- William still bugs him to get back together with Victoria.)

Scraps as Saxon -- Saxon's a pretty minor role as the local police dog in Sandford, and as the Alice games have no major dog characters. . .besides, a sleepy town doesn't need a big police dog, now do they? :p

Generals (Bill) Bonesaparte and (Bailey) Wellington as Desk Sergeants Turner -- This one sadly destroys a joke (namely, that there are two Desk Sergeants Turner -- Bill Bailey plays both, and we only see them together at the very end, right before the climax), but it's a minor role, and it seems suited enough to this double-act of general friends. I figure Bonesaparte, being the chattier of the two, would be the Night Sergeant (who's neater and talks more), and Wellington would be the Day.

Neighborhood Watch Alliance

Barkis Bittern as Simon Skinner -- Cripes, this was simple. Skinner is set up as basically Obviously Evil from the word "go," and since Barkis comes off the same way. . . They share the same smarmy "charm" and vaguely threatening air. Plus Barkis getting a model church spire through the chin is pretty easy with the size of his. XD (I BRIEFLY considered making Bumby Skinner early on, but then decided to keep him in Alice's backstory. Skinner is supposed to be kind of funny too, and that's easier with Barkis than it is with Bumby.)

Finis and Maudeline Everglot as Joyce and Bernard Cooper -- There's two main married couples in the movie, and I felt the Everglots fit this pair better. The Coopers run the hotel Nick stays at for the majority of the movie -- I could see slightly-less-snooty (or more desperate) Everglots converting their mansion into a hotel for the cash. And Maudeline well fits the "fascist"/"hag" gag that pops up between Joyce and Nick (she's doing a crossword when they first meet -- "facist" and "hag" are answers in it). I might have to switch their roles in the big finale, though -- Joyce uses a gun and Bernard a sword, but it makes more sense for gun-loving Finis to shoot at Alice.

Paul and Ms. Plum (Paul and Jane Plum) as Roy and Mary Porter -- This is the other main married couple -- as they run a bar, The Crown, I figured using some of the staff of the Ball & Socket would be appropriate. Paul's the character most associated with serving drinks in CB, and Plum the main female character of the B&S, so there you go! ...Actually, thinking about it, given that Roy is taken out during the climax via a bear trap to the head -- yeah, definitely has to be Paul. XD

Pastor (Christopher) Galswells as Reverend Philip Shooter -- Just fitting the two religious figures together here. Galswells is a sterner figure than Shooter, but that should just make him shouting "Fuck off, grasshopper" and pulling guns in the final battle all the more hilarious. XD

Murder Victims

Carpenter (Bruno Carpenter) as Martin Blower -- This was easy -- Martin is an absolutely awful actor (the version of Romeo & Juliet he stages is PRICELESS), so there was no competition for this role. Though somehow I think Carpenter is going to be an even bigger ham than he was. At least Martin never made up words. XD

Walrus (Walter Russo) as Eve Draper -- Eve's no great shakes as a thespian herself, which is a decent fit for Walrus -- as is her general annoying personality (she specifically has an awful laugh, which I'll probably give Walter). Eve and Martin are also in a relationship in the movie, so this is a great way to keep the Walrus and the Carpenter together.

The Town Crier (Tom Crier) as Tim Messenger -- I was stuck for a while as to who should be the town's local reporter -- then FINALLY I realized "oh hey, there's a character in Corpse Bride who's only role is to SPREAD THE NEWS." So that works! I even have the built-in quirk of him ALWAYS SPEAKING AT TOP VOLUME.

The Queen of Hearts/Red Queen (Rose Queen) as Leslie Tiller -- I was also stuck on this role for a bit -- Leslie is a local, super-skilled florist, and has a minor but important role of telling Nick some crucial information before she's killed. After some thought, I decided the Queen was a good fit for three reasons:

A) Both the Queen of Hearts and the Red Queen (of which the game Queen is an algamation) are associated with gardening/flowers (the famous "painting the roses red" bit, and the Looking Glass garden where the Red Queen first appears)

B) The Queen's big bit in A:MR is giving Alice some crucial information (her domain's big memory confirms it was Bumby who killed Alice's family, and she encourages Alice to look more at what's around her, which probably helps her realize how Bumby's been abusing the children)

C) Leslie's also a NWA member, and the Queen is the main villain in AMA. Leslie is murdered for wanting to move (they didn't want another village getting her skills), while the Queen is eclipsed by the bigger evil of Bumby's Dollmaker. Pretty damn good fit in the end!

Other

Charlie, The Insane Children, Skeleton Boy, and Skeleton Girl as The Hoodies -- The Hoodies are actually teenagers/tweens, so they'd have to be aged up a bit, but I figured this was a good place to stick most of the children from both the Alice games and Corpse Bride. The Insane Children and Skeleton Boy and Girl certainly seem up for the mischief they perpetrate, and for helping Alice out in the end. Charlie, being the only one of the lot with a canonical name, might have the pleasure of being the Hoodie Leader (aka Gabriel Weaver -- the subplot about him being the grandson of NWA member Tom Weaver was cut, but anything can happen in an AU).

Solemn Village Boy as Aaron A. Aaronson -- I almost gave this role to Charlie, but then I realized I could keep the joke with Aaron's name if I made him the unnamed Solemn Village boy from Corpse Bride instead. And as the joke (and being Skinner's brief hostage before biting the jerk) is really Aaron's only point to being in the movie...

The Houndsditch Children as the Underage Bar Patrons -- Again, aged up to teenagers. It seemed like overkill to stick the Houndsditch kids in with the Hoodies, and the bratty responses most of the patrons give suit the bratty nature of the Houndsditch lot. Also the fact that something horrible happens to them in the end (the kids start misbehaving when Angel ejects them from the bar, and the NWA kills ANYONE who makes the town look bad...).

Emil as Tina -- Once again replacing a woman with a man, but this is a minor role focused on being a helper (Tina is Skinner's secretary, who spends most of her time lounging at his desk), and we all know Emil the super-butler is good at that. We'd just have to take out the part where he's also a dancer at a club. (Or we could leave it in and have everyone be weirded out.) This also has the amusing consequence of him being taken out at least partially by his canonical employers' daughter. XD

Maggot and Black Widow (Enn Maggon and Betty Black) as Greg and Sheree Prosser -- These are background characters noted as being better actors than Martin and Eve; might as well fill their roles with some of Emily's comic relief friends, right? They're also minor NWA members, so that helps keeps the ranks appropriately Burtony.

Nan Sharpe as Janine -- Sort of -- Nan is not Alice's former girlfriend, as Janine was for Nick! Instead, Nan retains her role as Alice's old nanny, who she goes to talk to after gets she gets promoted/transferred. Nan's the one who tells her she needs to find someone who helps her "switch off," thus setting up the eventual Alice/Victor romance. It's a minor role, but it seems well-suited for Nan (especially since I've already cast the other role she could have -- dirty-minded Doris).

Tim Burton, Mike Johnson, and American McGee as The Met's Sergeant, Inspector, and Chief Inspector Kenneth -- These characters have the minor but important role of sending Nick to Sandford in the original film (for making everyone else look bad), so I just thought it would be funny I used the directors of CB and the mind behind the Alice games for them.

#wonderland fuzz #casting call #some of these were super easy #and some were HARD yo #I still haven't finished casting the NWA #or one of the murder victims #I feel like I need to get Cheshire and Bonejangles in there somehow #but I'm not sure who they'd fit #there's still one police officer where the joke is that he's almost unintelligible #unless you know his accent #but is that a good fit for Cheshire?#I was thinking humanized Caterpillar #decisions decisions #queued

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years

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Episode 23 Review: In the Not-So-Hidden Temple

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE TOWARDS THE END OF THE REVIEW

Welcome back to my Garden of Evil, which I have let lay barren for far too long. A few busy weeks of mask-making threw me off my posting schedule last April and I have only just begun to get back into the habit of writing episode reviews. Also, I knew that I would need to do a lot of research for this one, so I kept putting it off while I worked on my essay about Strange Paradise on WKBF. But now I’m ready to return to reviewing this show regularly, and let me tell you that I learned some very interesting things while researching this episode.

But first, a word from Jean Paul Desmond.

Jean Paul: “Erica, my darling, I do know what is right and wrong, and to be with you is all that is right for me. I cannot control either, though, for is it wrong to want you alive again? Is it wrong for me to want to give up my life for yours, if need be? Because the Devil will not have my soul! And, if it means freeing you from the capsule, I will. We will destroy each other so that at least we may share our eternity together.”

Jean Paul is wearing a lovely green shirt that, unfortunately, we will never get to see again after this episode. He has also not yet given up on his habit of stalking, as we see when he spies on Matt Dawson. Matt prays for Erica, then goes to investigate the coffins of Jean Paul’s ancestors while Quito sneaks up behind him. Then he starts talking to the mute servant about how much he wants to leave Maljardin and tries persuading him to sail him back to the main island.

That is when Raxl finds him there and tells him something which I can't make out (see Part 1, 2:54 to 2:59). Debby Graham transcribes part of her line as "he is deaf," but Raxl says more than that. Bryan Gruszka of StrangeParadise.net says nothing on either his synopsis or the corresponding trivia page about Quito being deaf, so it’s possible that he didn’t understand her line either. Still, I'll be damned if I can make out anything with the bad audio. The automated captions don't even transcribe any of it, correctly or not, so I have no idea what the hell she’s saying.

"He may not be able to talk," replies Matt, "but he can hear." You would think that being together with Quito since at least 1689 would be more than enough time for her to figure out whether he is deaf or not, but I guess I'm wrong. Anyway, she decides that, because Matt is a minister, she can safely confide in him about the evil on Maljardin aka THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES.

Stop trying to distract her, Dan! Go rant about Jean Paul to a hidden camera again!

Meanwhile, Dan is being a patronizing ass to Alison in the lab as she searches for Dr. Menkin’s missing notes. I can’t tell if Dan was intended to be so unlikeable or if their scenes together just haven’t aged well. Either way, they still have no chemistry (unlike her and Jean Paul/Jacques) and I still have no idea what she sees in him.

But enough about them for now. Let’s return to the crypt, where the interesting stuff is happening. There’s a lot to unpack, so I will be going through their dialogue and analyzing the important bits.

Alison (from the previous scene): “You talk of-”

Matt: “-Evil, of danger, but not of how I am to fight them.”

Raxl: “God--the Christian God--He is good?” Matt: “He is love, Raxl.” Raxl: “So you are good.” Matt: “I am His servant.” Raxl: "It is not enough to do as the curandero does." Matt: "Curandero?" Raxl: "When evil walks, the soul is lost. The curandero--the sorcerer--calls for it to return to the body."

Here Raxl references a type of traditional healer popular throughout Latin America. According to Wikipedia, the rituals of curanderos and curanderas combine traditional medicine from indigenous cultures with religious practices from both Catholicism and traditional African religions. Sound familiar? That’s because modern curanderismo came about because of the same social factors as the religions collectively known as Vodou[1]: namely, colonialism and the transatlantic slave trade, which led to increased interaction between indigenous peoples, African slaves, and European colonists. When the colonists tried to impose Christianity on the people they enslaved (both indigenous and black), many of them responded by combining Christian figures and trappings with their own religious practices in a process known as syncretism. Although curanderismo is not Vodou, both are syncretic traditions with a similar history and a similar association with witchcraft. This is probably why the show makes the connection between them.

Matt: "And is a soul lost in this place, Raxl?" Raxl: "Most easily. It returns [through the hands] or [through the temples]." [She touches those areas of Matt's body.] "These are its holes in the body. When it departs, it goes from them. When it returns...The magic of the curandero is a fervent belief of my people. You understand?" Matt: "Which you no longer believe."

The Reverend appears to assume that, because Raxl is seeking his help, she must no longer believe in the curanderos’‘ magic. Most likely this is because he follows a religion that tends toward exclusivism, the idea that one true religion exists and all others are wrong. Although Matt has already revealed that he does not believe this--he said in Episode 10 that “a minister should have an interest in all spiritual phenomena” and “any path that leads to God should have a minister’s approval”--he might still unconsciously believe that a non-Christian who expresses an interest in God must want to convert.

Raxl: "I believe the Christian God is good." Matt: "And that I, His servant, can help you with this, this matter of the soul?" Raxl: "Someone must! Please! Help us! HELP US! SOMEONE MUST!"

Yes, he’s still watching them.

And Raxl notices the camera!

Raxl tells Matt that they mustn’t stay in the crypt in case someone overhears. Jean Paul watches as they grab torches and get ready to head to the Not-So-Hidden Temple, and very nearly discovers the temple’s entrance, only to turn away at the wrong moment to scowl at the camera:

Proof that I did not just make that up.

When we return, we see Raxl and Quito escort Matt to the temple. Between the torchlight, the eerie music, and the darkness of the tunnel, it’s a surprisingly effective scene that gives a sense of suspense and wonder. When they reach the temple, Raxl tells Matt about the temple’s history:

Matt: “I’ve read about many ancient temples, but this one is-” Raxl: “Secret and sacred, the Temple of the Serpent.” [She and Quito pass their torches between their hands, as they do in many of their rituals.] “An ancient people years ago lived on Maljardin. You know of them?” Matt: "Like the Aztecs and the Tarascans, the Totonacs." Raxl: "Like them were our island people. For three thousand years, they were one with the Earth." Matt: "Farming people?" Raxl: "Not warriors, not dealers in the Devil's business of death. This was our temple, is our temple!"

So Raxl and Quito are natives to the island and of indigenous Central American descent, related to the Aztecs, Tarascans, and Totonacs. (In spite of this, both of their actors are white.) Unlike the Aztecs, however, they were a peaceful people. That is, except for one little thing...

Raxl: "The Christian god is not displeased?" Matt: "God believes that each may have his own belief." [He touches the altar.] "If this is what I think it is..." Raxl: "The basin of the blood sacrifice."

Meanwhile, Jean Paul heads to the crypt to continue stalking and is shocked to find neither Raxl. nor Quito, nor Matt, nor the very obvious hidden door leading to the Temple of the Serpent:

Well, if you had left your monitor on and watched it for just a minute longer, you would know all about the not-so-secret door to the temple. *Jacques voice and laugh* You snooze, you lose, Jean Paul!

Back in the Temple of the Serpent, Raxl and Matt discuss the use of the altar:

Matt: "God wouldn't be pleased with this!" Raxl: "Only the priests used it, and only to please the gods of fertility and the maize." Matt: "Sometimes humans were sacrificed." Raxl: "As others have sacrificed. You know the Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent?" Matt: "Yes." Raxl: "He gathered bones of the dead from all the world. When he returned, he sprinkled his own blood on them." Matt: "And thus created his man." Raxl: "This is the belief."

Here we learn the identity of the Serpent whom Raxl worships: it is Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec creator god also known as the Feathered Serpent. In Pre-Columbian times, many peoples throughout Mesoamerica worshipped feathered serpent gods, including the Olmecs, the Yucatec Maya (Kukulkan), and the K’iche’ Maya (Q’uq’umatz). Although the legends and appearance of the Feathered Serpent vary from culture to culture, all Mesoamerican Feathered Serpents are generally considered variations of the same ancient deity, once again connecting to the aforementioned practice of syncretism.

Before re-watching this episode, I had forgotten that Raxl identified the serpent as Quetzalcoatl. Because the show, many ads promoting it, and the tie-in novels refer to her religion as voodoo, I assumed (after Googling “voodoo serpent” and reading many pages in the results) that the serpent she worshiped was the Vodou god or lwa Damballah, a deity similar to Quetzalcoatl. According to legend, Damballah created the world and all living things, much like the Feathered Serpent, who restored humanity to life after its death at the end of the world’s previous cycle.

Some modern pagans and Vodou practitioners syncretize Quetzalcoatl and Damballah. This post on La Bloga by Ernest Hogan and this essay by the Steemit user yestermorrow are good examples.[2] Another example of this association can be found in Leslie Marmon Silko’s novel Almanac of the Dead, where one character, a black Vietnam vet named Clinton, says the following about them:

The spirits of Africa and the Americas are joined together in history, and on both continents by the sacred gourd rattle. Erzulie joins the Mother Earth. Damballah, great serpent of the sky and keeper of all spiritual knowledge, joins the giant plumed serpent, Quetzalcoatl. When someone dies, the spirit goes to the Dead Country. Legba Gede, Lord of the Crossroads of Life and Death, directs the traffic of the human souls.[3]

Does Raxl also syncretize the West African and Mesoamerican serpent gods? They never say, but I think she does. She likely practices a combination of her native religion, curanderismo, and "the conjure faith” (as she and Vangie usually call voodoo).

Matt: "Did you bring me here to talk of ancient tribal history, Raxl?" Raxl: "Tribal? It wasn't! It is the highest culture!"

Matt inadvertently reveals a somewhat condescending attitude toward the ancient Mesoamerican civilization on Maljardin by calling it “tribal.” The word’s connotations of primitiveness are not lost on Raxl.

Matt: "All right, but what of this danger, this evil that rambles around here?" Raxl: "You scorn what I have said. I see it in your face and in your eyes: your scorn, derision. Your presence corrupts the Temple! It was wrong of me to bring you here, to trust you!" Matt: "Wait! If you must trust someone, trust me. I scorn nothing about this temple. It's a place of worship. I respect it as I would my own. If I seemed impatient with past history, it's only that the present concerns me more."

Sure, Jan Matt. I totally believe you respect a temple with an altar for blood sacrifice. Not that many people would, but still, his claim not to disrespect it is not entirely convincing (to say the least). It’s about as convincing as his insistence that he’s officiated at many funerals in crypts back in Episode 16. Even so, Raxl agrees to trust him and tells him all about Erica’s death and Jacques’ possession of Jean Paul.

Meanwhile, Jacques continues to torment his descendant. He also continues to reference things which no mere mortal from the 17th century would have been aware of:

Ah, yes, just like the bus depot that Louis XIV built at Versailles and the time clock he made all his ministers punch.

But Jean Paul can’t keep himself away from his hidden stalker room for long and returns to it two minutes later to spy on Alison, who is looking for Dr. Menkin’s notes on Erica and who is also desperately trying to persuade Dan that she does not have feelings for her brother-in-law. And then he visits the lab to let them know he was spying on them:

He’s stopped hiding the fact that he’s spying on everyone.

Dan, sick of dealing with Jean Paul and his moods.

Getting salty!

Dan asks Jean Paul when he reported Erica’s death. He insists that Dr. Menkin wrote a statement about her death, which he showed to the Cryonics Society before they froze her corpse, but Dan does not accept that. He asks if he ever told the authorities of Erica’s death, but Jean Paul didn’t for obvious reasons. He refuses to allow anyone to open the capsule to give Erica an autopsy, because that would mean that she could never be revived (not sure what his logic is, since zombies exist in this show’s universe).

He also officially rehires Dan, which is when he learns that Jacques already did so a week ago. This sends Jean Paul over the edge and he sends them off so they don’t see him rummage through the medicine cabinet.

THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE SECTION ABOUT SUICIDE. IF THE TOPIC OF SUICIDE TRIGGERS YOU, SKIP AHEAD TO THE NEXT PHOTO OF JEAN PAUL.

He grabs a bottle of cyanide and sneaks behind them back into the Great Hall. He announces to Jacques that he plans to kill himself and Jacques along with him, as though suicide were enough to defeat THE DEVIL. He is delusional, of course. All that would do is prevent Jacques from taking over his living body (and, as I mentioned above, zombies exist in this show’s universe, so Jacques could--in theory--possess an undead Jean Paul). “Now, be a good boy,” Jacques purrs to him like the handsome biscuit-maker that he is, “and store that away for another day. Now join your guests, eat slowly, and digest what I have said very carefully.”

END OF SECTION ABOUT SUICIDE

I enjoyed this episode, particularly the scenes with Raxl, Matt, and Quito. The Reverend may be somewhat of a creep when it comes to his behavior towards Holly, but I like his other subplot with Raxl and how they join forces against Jacques despite their religious differences and the temple’s dark history. Also, although initially I kept procrastinating, researching for this entry was fun and I ended up having fun going down the rabbit snake hole. I’m not an expert on Vodou, curanderos, or ancient Mesoamerican religions now, but I’ve learned some interesting things.

Coming up next: An analysis of the top five things wrong with Tim’s subplot.

{<- Previous: Episode 22 || Next: Episode 24 -> }

Notes

[1] I use “Vodou” here to refer to the real-world religions commonly known as voodoo and “voodoo” in reference to their portrayal in popular culture.

[2] Along with Simbi (another serpent lwa), Damballah is also believed to possess the ability to control snakes; because of this, many of his devotees further syncretize him with Saint Patrick and Moses.

[3] Leslie Marmon Silko, Almanac of the Dead: A Novel (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992), p. 429, https://archive.org/details/almanacofdead00lesl. (RIP National Emergency Library)

#strange paradise #soap opera #review #maljardin arc #ian martin #week 5 #episode 23 #extra long corona edition #analysis #great serpent #historicalnote #jean paul's monitor room #the not so hidden voodoo temple #scene transitions #sp and religion #suicidal ideation #tape recorder journal #i'm not a religious studies scholar but i play one on tumblr

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loneliness-in-pain · 5 years

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For my family and friends that love my stories. Inspired by Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles.

Introduction

Philemon Campbell is a young man born on February 20, 1698, to one of the well to do families in Pennsylvania. His father was a successful merchant who married Marian, the daughter of another successful merchant, Giles Holeman. Marian was a sickly woman and her father hoped James Campbell, Philemon’s father, would take care of her after his death. They managed to have two children before Marian died in 1703 leaving James a widower with two kids. They’re second child had died by what is now known as an ‘epileptic seizure’ in 1705 at the age of four years old. A year after Marian’s death, James decided to remarry an older woman who was a widow herself, Harriet Combs, wife of the late Reverend in the early city of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She was no holy woman, despite being a wife of an elderly reverend for the first half of her life, she was quite rapacious and egocentric; and she had multiple affairs with younger men giving her the reputation of a harlot and an adulterer, yet it was always bulderized by the Reverend, doesn’t mean it wasn’t the rumor along the streets of Lancaster.

Philemon and Harriet had an unpleasant relationship, Harriet never wanted children and Philemon was what she never wanted. Though she acted like a mother in front of James, she never truly was and she took advantage of that since Philemon was a child. He never told his father how she treated him and he remains silent about it. He was fourteen years of age to go to Oxford University in Great Britain, coming back four and a half years later. James began to push him to be a merchant like him and his father before him which Philemon refused, enraging his father. Philemon soon told his father that he wished to be a writer and his father told him that if he wishes to be a writer, he should live somewhere else or consider the family business over his dream.

(WANNABE AUTHOR) Presents: A New Vampire Story, a first person novel in young Philemon Campbell’s point of view that takes place in the year 1718 and forwards, stating all he goes through after the most hated of The Vampire Diadems arrives to him the first night he is in the Massachusetts Tavern ran by Tobias Kilgore and his wife, Catherine. He meets many interesting creatures and people while trying to understand what the diadem is and where it came from and who created it.

September 21, 1718

I am Philemon Campbell. I have read up on interesting creatures; but in Reverend Jonathan Hale’s book about such topic he wrote after the Salem Witch Trials, I have never understood.

I am renting a room at a tavern in Massachusetts, because the family I was living with… well, I had to leave them. I asked for room 12 out of the remaining rooms on the second floor for two weeks, and that room was a scene like a natural disaster went through it. I had to fix it to look like a decent living space. This tavern wasn’t just any tavern and stupidly I just let it be for the night. I will question the tavern owner about it at daybreak.

While I was getting ready for bed after cleaning, I found a crucifix necklace hidden in the covers of the bed and I picked it up, looked at it, twirled it in my fingers gently as it’s silver color shined with the candlelight on the side table. I questioned why it was left here, [under my breath] but I put it on and decided that I’d find the owner of it in the morning as well.

I was too tired to go out looking for anyone, so I laid down and slept until I felt something biting into my flesh on my stomach, and long nails going across my skin… I opened my eyes and stared at the two in front as they released their teeth from me and their eyes glew for a second as blood the one took from me is on the bottom of their sharp teeth, and chin. I couldn’t scream… I just jumped up, and went to the other side of the bed that was against the wall.

“Stay away from me!” I yelled, and the other went behind me and bit into my neck. I gasped, the bite felt like nothing was hurting me… I don’t know how. I got them off me somehow and I moved off my bed and to my door. They were walking to me, quicker than the average being. I hid my neck with my hand; and when they tried to attack me again, I could only think about one thing...the crucifix around my neck. Within the amount of time I had, I grabbed the crucifix lightly in hand from my neck and pointed it in their direction. I have read that Crucifixes would stop any creature that attacks you.

Of course it wouldn’t work for a murderer or a rapist, but I’ve understood that it will help when they are attacking you with their fangs like the demonic entity of a Vampire!

The crucifix didn’t seem to alter them at all until they saw what it looked like, they muttered, “It is Reality…” I looked at them with a cocked brow, this name bewildered me. As they step back, I take the crucifix off from around my neck and held it carefully in hand, putting it close to them. This alarmed them it seems, as they back up like they are terrified of it.

When I realized they were too intimidated to chase me, I decided that this was the time I should run and get help. As I put the crucifix back around my neck, I ran to the tavern owner and cried out, “Help help! Somebody help me!” the tavern owner looked up from the glass they were cleaning and asked in a serene manner, “What is it, sir?” The man was tall and thin, pale and clear from freckles and all markings on the skin. His eyes were a light blue that could be seen as grey, and he always showed a calm look. Other than a pair of black pants and black boots, he wore small black gloves hiding his hands for some odd reason, and he had a black button up that he folded the sleeves to the middle of his arms. Two buttons at the top were unbuttoned and the shirt seems to be tucked into a white apron. His hair was a length down to the middle of his back, that was black, straight, and released from a ribbon. I ran to him and yelled, “I was attacked!” as I revealed how bad I was bleeding.

The tavern owner’s eyes widened as he went over to me to look at the wounds I was given. “Get me some first aid, and quick!” I plead, lowering my blood-stained hand from my neck, holding onto the bar stool. He nods and runs to get me first aid before I bled more. After I am given emergency first aid, I sit on the stool. The tavern owner hands me a glass of beer, and I take a sip from it and I wipe my lip from the remaining alcohol on it; after a moment of silence, Tobias Kilgore, the tavern owner, asks me “Those markings… they were explained in Reverend Jonathan Hale’s book, weren’t they?” I nod, and I answer through my exhaustion “Yes... as I remember from what I understood in the past, they were.” Tobias nods, and I add onto my statement a question after another sip of beer. “Tobias, is that book still in the library a block down from here?” Tobias stands straight from kneeling down a bit to get another bottle of beer to put in my glass because it became empty, “After eighteen years of his death, yes.” he answers.

As Tobias pours some more beer in my glass, I look at him with a look of inquisitiveness, “Did you know him, Tobias?” I decided to ask because I saw how shaky and albeit, slightly despondent he became when he mentioned the Reverend.

Tobias placed the bottle down with a sigh, “Barely, but yes. I knew him… back in the 1690s when he visited here.” I nodded, and took a sip of the newly poured beer in my glass, “Wow… you met the reverend from the Witch Trials. How’d that go for you?” I joke with a grin and I exaggerate ‘the’ slightly, this seemed to suddenly give Tobias a look that showed slight disappointment, “The true Reverend of the Witch Trials was Reverend Samuel Parris.” he said, slightly defensively and my grin disappeared from my lips.

After a pause, he sighed and added, “But yes, I’ve met Hale… he was a lovely man. Very calm… collected… caring…” he seems to be longing for his friend so his voice trailed off a little.

Now another moment of silence, he shook his head and placed the bottle back in its spot, “...he was smart, and he became my friend, close friend. I miss him, but everything’s gone well. I have my family by my side, and that is all I need.” he comes out of the little bar area and starts to clean up the tables. I realized I brought up a sensitive topic and I bit my bottom lip in discomfort and slight regret. “Sorry for mentioning the Reverend Jonathan Hale in that way…” I say as I turned on the bar stool and placed the glass down. Tobias shook his head, “It’s fine, it doesn’t matter. He’s dead, and I still have an involuntary feeling to protect him and his name.”

“Because he was your friend, it’s fine.” I try to assure Tobias, but he stopped what he was doing and looked in the direction he was facing like he was lost in thought; but finally, after a moment of silence, he nods and says, “I suppose.” and he went back to cleaning the tables.

“Was he closer to you than that, Tobias?” I ask, and Tobias scoffed in amusement for a moment and said, “He was more like a brother to me than just a friend.”

“That makes more sense, actually.” I say after a moment of process, and as he continues to clean the tables, I clear my throat awkwardly and decide to change the subject. “Where’s your wife?” I ask, watching Tobias as he cleans the tables. “In the back, she’s looking after our son.” he answers, back to his serene tone.

“That’s nice, I haven’t gotten a wife yet. But hey, I’ve only been on this land since 1698.” I say, then I laugh a bit quietly, I believe I said too much, and I finish it all off with, “Anyway, Tobias… I’m going out to get Reverend Hale’s book… I must understand all he spoke about… especially about my attackers.” Tobias nods, “Goodnight, Philemon. I’ll keep the tavern open for you.” he says as he finishes up cleaning the tables and goes back to the bar area to go in his home. I nod, getting up from the bar stool, and as I button up my shirt I go upstairs to my room to get my vest and jacket on. I’m glad to see my room is empty and those creatures aren’t in it anymore, so I grab my vest after tucking my shirt in the top of my breeches. My stockings have slid down, so I rise them back up and tie them in place with a ribbon hooked to my breeches.

The crucifix around my neck has a big red circle in the middle that’s glowing dimly. I stop for a moment and look at it, “They called this Reality… and it’s glowing dimly… what even is this crucifix?” I question to myself as I stare at it. The ends pointed a little like the tusks on a baby elephant. The silver is a mirror if you look closely, the gems on each side give it a very unique look.

I shook my head once I realized I was stuck in my own thought process, and I grab my jacket after buttoning up my vest. I keep my jacket on my arm as I fix my ascot, and I step out my rented room, and go downstairs putting on my black jacket along with my satchel bag in hold of my money.

When I get down there, I notice Tobias is still in his home because no one is downstairs, and I hear a baby crying and a motherly voice singing in a different language. I smile partially as I get my hat that’s hanging on the rack beside the door. I leave the tavern, and I start walking down a block to get to the library. Once I got to the library, I ask for Reverend Hale’s book on supernatural creatures. The man I asked looks at me with a cocked brow, he looks older than I am and his face seems to have gained some wrinkles at the sight of me. His hair seemed a little fraized, and his body was small and old. He looks at me with his dark eyes that showed slight annoyance. He must not like the reverend’s book so he might not have it, I told myself in fear so I can feel I can leave, but I don’t. I get quiet within my anxiety, he gets up shakily and goes to find the book that’s apparently behind the desk. He was muttering something to himself in his raspy voice as he looks for it. When he finds it, he hands it to me and I take it.

I was silent the entire time he was looking because I was worried that if I speak, he wouldn’t find it for me. His aura is not all that welcoming with my experience. I know my fear is ridiculous but once he hands the book to me, I look at it and lightly pet the front to get some dust off it. “Could I possibly… purchase this to keep?” I ask without thinking, for the reason that apparently no one borrows this book.

The man looked at me in disbelief as he says, “Why would you want to keep this book?”

I shrug, “It looks like no one wants it, not even you so I’d take it off your hands.” I say trying to act nonchalant.

“No one wants it because it’s a little too extreme for them. They honestly don’t like the reverend at all.” The man replies as he sits back in his chair behind the desk, “So why do you want to purchase it to keep? Are you that one-percent that actually like this insane reverend?” He scoffs.

I bite my bottom lip, “Will you give it to me to keep or not?” I ask, getting slightly impatient so I’ve thought to ignore my fear.

“I wish you could, but honestly… It’s a copy of Reverend Jonathan Hale’s book. I sadly cannot allow you to purchase it especially when it is here.”

“Right… what if I gave you… twenty pence for it?”

“No.”

“Thirty pence?”

“No.”

“Forty pence?”

“Do you even have forty pence?”

“Yes. I do, actually. See?” I take out forty pence from my satchel, and place them on the desk. The man looks closely at them, and he nods. “Very well.” he says, taking the money.

I sigh in slight relief. “Thank you good sir.” I say with a polite smile. The man nods, “I shouldn’t allow one to buy books from here, especially when the man that wrote this one happily died and became ashes.”

“R i g h t… thank you.” I take the book, and leave. But I stop in front of the store and looked at it.

“He called him insane… but what’s the reason behind it..?” I ask myself as I look through the inside. “Very interesting… this copy is actually a good copy…” I mutter. “Jonathan Hale… the insane reverend of Massachusetts’ history.” I sigh, “Poor man, getting dragged through the mud even after his death…” I finish.

I let out a sigh of annoyance this time because of how rude the man was. I wasn’t scared anymore, I was slightly disappointed. I put the book carefully in my satchel, and as I fix my hat I start on my way back to the Tavern.

Once I get back to the tavern, I step in and lock up for Tobias since the keys were nearby the door, and I place the key on the bar for him to see. “I’m back Tobias and I locked up for you!” I call, not even expecting a response, and I go to the staircase back to my room.

As I go upstairs, I could hear a violin being played beautifully. I walk over, and knock on the door where I hear it. “H-hello?” I question, the violin’s song faded as I began to hear footsteps.

I get anxiety as I hear the person on the other side opening the door. It was a man, a man with brown hair in a bun, I’d say if he took it out it would be wavy and down to his shoulders that has some silver pieces of hair in it. He was about six foot three, and his build was very masculine with just about no femininity. His face was a little long and his cheekbones were the first thing I saw on his face. They are not too emphasized, but they were emphasized enough to be seen. He had a long sleeved button up, and a black vest along with his breeches and white stockings, he had no ascot on and his shirt was buttoned down a little. Then as I glance down, I see his shoes were black and have fake silver buckles on them; I look back up to his face and I noticed his sleeves were folded up to the middle of his arms, and he looked a little exhausted.

I’m only five foot nine and my build is very feminine; after looking at him I noticed he was confused on what I was doing at his door so I decide this is the time to say something, “Oh hello… sorry to bug you, but I just couldn’t help but listen to your music playing… I wasn’t meaning to interrupt it.” I realized how stupid I was for knocking on the door if I couldn’t help but listen to his music and ‘didn’t mean to interrupt’. I felt my face get warm in embarrassment. But within luck and to my surprise, the man only smiles, he doesn’t yell. In fact, he asked me, “Would you like to hear some more?” I gulped and nodded. “Y-yes… of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt- I’m sorry…”

The man laughs a bit, “No need for apologies, good sir. You’ll only end up repeating yourself; I’m Landen. Landen Hillman.” he introduces himself, I try and stop the heat from staying on my face as I introduce myself, “Philemon… Philemon Campbell…” holding my hand out for a handshake, he takes it gently, and shakes my hand. I couldn’t seem to move. So I smiled awkwardly as we shook hands, and he laughed a bit quietly again. “You alright, sir?” He asks.

My mind starts freaking out, ‘why is he calling me sir? Did I say or do something?’ since usually, when someone calls me sir my mind thinks I’m in trouble with them. I try and play it normal, and stutter out, “N-no need for sir...” I say, after a pause of me trying to calm my mind down to process on what to say now. I can’t seem to look him in the eye, because his height and build honestly frightens me a bit.

“Alright Campbell, now for that song you wish to hear?” Landen’s voice is mysterious and low. He seems calm and delicate, but of course, my mind thinks I’m in danger.

“Yes, of course.” I answer with a small smile. I wish to go back to my room and hide, but then again I don’t want to actually upset a man I just met. You never know what people will do to teach you a lesson.

“Come in and take a seat, there’s not much but you can sit at my desk. Ignore the papers.” Landen tells me as he steps aside to let me in, I nod and enter his room; as I sit at his desk, I see a ton of musical notes scratched out and re-written on the scattered papers, and an overflowed trash bin under the desk. I just look away from the papers, and pay attention to Landen as he begins to play again. The song is a melody I recognize all too well, and I hum along quietly while not even noticing that I am. As it got a little louder, I knew he was almost finished. Then at being finished, he stops and looks at me with a thankful smile.

Once I noticed he was done, I smiled and applauded him, it truly was a beautiful melody. “That was lovely, Hillman.” I say, standing up and looking at his violin. “How long have you practiced?” I asked, looking back at him.

“Ever since I could pick up a violin and use it properly.” Landen says, placing the violin down delicately and standing beside me at his desk.

I nodded and asked, “So right around when you were a child?” he nodded and answered “Yes, I was ten when I got my first violin… I started with the piano at seven.” Landen explains to me, he seems to be in his late thirties-mid forties.

“I used to be the youngest of a rich family, so I could do what I pleased.” He adds.

“What happened to it?” I ask without thinking; but when I realize what I asked, I covered my mouth and looked down as I got up from the desk. But Landen answers after he himself pauses for a moment, and walks over to the other side of his room, “My parents were killed by a creature I could never help to explain.” He sounds like he wishes not to talk about this, but he will.

“Y-you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to… but was there anything left? Like a bite or anything?”

“Nothing was left but the blood on their bodies, floor, and open window. I was sixteen when I found them…”

I nodded, I was going to change the subject but I didn’t know what to change it to so I said as I walked over to him, “I lost my mother from an illness… my father remarried a year after… and I ran away from my step mom. She… wasn’t that pleasant persay.” He cocks a brow at me, and I back up, looking away. “Not as bad as what you went through, Hillman…I’m sorry…” I backed up into the door of his bedroom. “...I’m going to go… have a good day, lovely song… keep up the good work…” I add as I tried to get to the door handle. I had a lot of fear, this man was a tall masculine man and I feel I upset him by talking too much so I feel I might need to go. But I heard his kind tone say, “No. No. No. Campbell, you’re fine.” right then, going over to me. He leaned on the door while looking down at me, “Listen, I’m sorry if I scared you. But I’m not going to hurt you, don’t you worry yourself.” He adds, I look up at him and blush in embarrassment, now I feel that I’ve made a fool of myself. “R-right.”

Landen laughs a bit quietly, “Alright. Hopefully we’ll see each other again later. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He says, smiling partially at me, and leaving the door to go over to look at the papers on his desk. I nod, “P-pleasure meeting you too…” I say before I leave. I sigh in relief as I lean on the other side of Landen’s door. I can’t believe I made a fool of myself… I think, and I go to my room across the way, I shut my door and take my satchel off and place it on my desk in the room. I held my head and said to myself, “Why must I act like this… this is why people don’t like you, Philemon…” I shook my head, and took the Reverend’s book out of the satchel and I start to read it while walking around my room. Then I stop for a moment as I look at my quill and paper on my desk. “I guess I should write a journal at this rate…” I say to myself, memorizing the number of the page I’m on in the book and walking over to my desk. I place the book down beside my papers and moved my satchel, and I write and write everything that was important and I’m eager to speak about from today.

#vampire #vampire story #author #ocs #characters

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hysydney · 7 years

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Now you see it, now you see it again - part 10

Chinoiserie chic

Orientalism has been a recurring theme in Western decorative arts since the16th century, with textiles and clothing among its most prominent exemplars. Eastern ideas of textile, design, construction, and utility have been realised again and again as a positive contribution to the culture of the West.

1920s’ fashion saw a renaissance of chinoiserie, with heavily embroidered silks, patterned fabrics, frog buttons, cross and Mandarin collars, loose wide sleeves, all of which borrowed significantly from the prevailing Chinese influences.

Phryne’s wardrobe reflects these designs, with her stunning red qipao or cheongsam (see @foxspirit1928′s post here) and a wonderful array of short and long embroidered silk jackets, that we glimpse once only.

But there is at least one that makes a second and third entrance and it is of particular significance for Marion Boyce who spoke of this in interview in the MFMM Costume Exhibition Catalogue (2014):

‘This coat I’ve had for many, many years. I found it in a second hand store years ago and it’s always been my coat if I’m really late coming home from work and I have a particular event. This is my ‘go to’ coat which then became Phryne’s. Chinoiserie in the 1920s was quite enormous and very much part of the 20s, and really after the Chinese closed their trading borders that was the last time, so I felt it was a really important part of the history.’

It is an original Chinese bridge coat - black silk, heavily embroidered with white floral motifs, and black frog buttons. The costume team added cream cuffs and belt to finish off the ensemble.

It makes a brief appearance in Episode 1 of the first series, Cocaine Blues when Phryne attends the hospital. The coat complements Mac’s lab coat and the exchange between them also clearly sets the scene for Phryne’s determination to act on behalf of the disadvantaged and marginalised. Here it is the victim of an illegal abortion.

Phryne: Has she given you any details about what happened?

Mac: They never do - either fell down the stairs or claim to be completely mystified. This one's not even offering her name.

Phryne: No clues in her purse?

Mac: You don't have to save the world, Phryne.

Phryne: Where are her things?

She wears the Chinoiserie Coat again in Death at Victoria Docks (S1, Ep 4), with a black and white felt hat and white leather gloves, and white pants and blouse beneath.

It is an episode whose plot interweaves families divided and political dissension. There are two story lines that intercept where families have come adrift and daughters choose to leave. The Waddingtons’ daughter Lila has run away from a family secret, and Peter the Painter’s anarchist associations have estranged him from his daughter, Nina.

Phryne first goes to the Waddingtons to confront Mrs Waddington and her step-son Paul on what she has discovered. Lila ultimately seeks refuge within convent walls, and the black and white of the coat is reminiscent of the cloistered halls:

(need a shot of the back of the coat - stunning!)

Phryne: Of course, I thought it was strange that a man like Gerald Waddington would make a donation in cash, rather than by cheque. And that you were so unsurprised by it, Mrs Waddington.

Paul: What have you done?

Phryne: Your sister is safe, Paul. But there is no doubt that she has suffered because of your deception. Hasn't she, Mrs Waddington?... It was the small things that gave away your love affair at first. The touch of a hand. But when Lila discovered you together and knew for certain, the only choice was to make her doubt herself. And what better way than to take her faith and turn it against her?

Phryne then goes to the docks to address Lila’s father, who is also embroiled in a dockland dispute and murder. Phryne trades her services and tact for peace on the docks.

Phryne: The Reverend Mother has agreed that Lila can stay at the convent on the condition that she finish her schooling before she makes any decision about her calling.

Mr W: Thank you. I suppose you'll be wanting your fee.

Phryne: I'm not sure I need a monetary payment. But I could settle instead for... peace talks on the waterfront... in return for my absolute discretion.

Mr W: You drive a hard bargain, Miss Fisher.

And a finale in the coat... DI Jack wants to see how reconciliation was achieved. Their conversation is conducted with a ship’s mast in the background amidst sea mists, the black and white of the police car, the creamy-grey timbers and iron all providing a harmonious palette to the dialogue. DI Jack references her charm, and she finds there’s a lot more to this detective than meets the eye:

Jack: You'd almost think someone twisted Waddington's arm. In a charming way... I've had my fair share of strike action.

Phryne: What? The police strike of '23?

Jack: Mmm. Shoulder to shoulder... (says he, as he and Phryne stand shoulder to shoulder)

Jack: A lot of good men lost their jobs. I was one of the lucky ones.

Phryne: I would've picked you as more of a fence-sitter.

Jack: It'd be a tactical error to think you had me pegged just yet, Miss Fisher.

Phryne: I'm very glad to hear it.

In Queen of the Flowers (S1 Ep6) the coat reappears but this time with black accessories - the black beret, black gloves and black pants and blouse. This time too we have families at the core of the plots, as parental responsibility and accountability are tested.

Phryne and Jack are on a case with murky undertones, of exploitation of young girls. Power and position provide masks for manipulation and murder.

When the coroner’s report reveals more than a drowning, Jack attempts to protect Phryne from the truth. She insists, he doesn’t hold back. They work as a team.

Phryne: And Kitty was alive when she drowned.

Jack: That's the conclusion. But there was bruising suggestive of someone a lot more hefty than Rose Weston.

Phryne: What kind of bruising?

Jack: You don't need to know.

Phryne: Tell me.

Jack: A man's boot print across the small of her back.

Phryne initially draws a wrong conclusion about the wearer of the boot. In her exchange with young Derek, the Mayor’s nephew, the floral coat foregrounds the floral preparations for the Queen of the Flowers event:

But then the true depths are revealed - of not only the Mayor’s abuse of young girls, and murder to cover his offence, but of a grandfather prepared to sell his granddaughter to repay debts. The true relationship between those with blood ties is questioned.

And running through the background is another thread of parent-daughter dissonance, of Jane’s relationship with her birth mother. She returns after years of absence to reclaim her daughter, in confused and psychologically unstable state of mind. Jane is torn, as is Phryne.

To whom does Phryne reveal what she feels? Who can and does reassure her?

Phryne: Well, my school of social graces was a complete disaster.

Jack: There are enough fox trotting young ladies in this town. You taught them to demand justice instead. And no doubt they'll all become firebrands in their own right and try to change the world, God help us. Oh. Janie's adoption papers, a little the worse for wear.

Phryne: Thank you. But Jane's mother will always be her mother.

Jack: And what will you be? Her guardian angel?

Phryne: Much more my style.

#MFMM #Phryne's phabulous fashions #Now you see it now you see it again #Chinoiserie coat

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