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sometimesrosy · 5 years

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Hi Rosy, hope you're doing well, i was wondering since there wasn't any confession in S6 from bellarke, do you think that in S7 wee are gonna see them be in a relationship with each other? or do you think they are just gonna have a moment in an episode where they confess/kiss/have sex?

What do you think a confession IS?

He told her “I won’t let you die. I can’t lose you. I won’t let you go. I need you.” That is a confession. This season’s story was romantic Bellarke. This is a love triangle with c/b/e. That’s a romance story. They are IN a relationship, a soulmate relationship. It is not platonic because there are romantic overtones, longing, looks, tropes, jealousy, other people calling them out, touches.

He BROUGHT HER BACK FROM THE DEAD WITH FORCE OF HIS LOVE WITH THE KISS OF LIFE-- which was the science fiction version of the fairy tale trope of love’s true kiss waking the princess from the dead (see Snow White, Sleeping Beauty.) No it was not a real kiss. It was fairy tale trope. They did not have sexy times. They had a soulmate I-love-you-past-death-time-and-space moment.

When you bring someone back from death with your love, your touch, you kiss, your HEART... I just wonder why we think there is something lacking? Like this is such a transcendent love story. And when he confessed that he needed her? That was so important for him. He’s never asked for anything for himself, has he? And what he needed was her.

He specifically never told her he needed her. He never told ANYONE he needed them. The only person he admitted to loving was Octavia. She’s the only one he said he loved. Gina he called real. Echo he said was his family.

I honestly think fandom is too focused on kiss/confess/sex when those elements are NOT actually indicators of love, romance or a love story. Those are the benchmarks for SHIPWARS. That’s how people know they’d “won” the shipwars and their ship is “canon.” But those are not how you make a love story, particularly not on this show. Flarke got all three, mutual confession, kiss and sex. How did that turn out for them? It is no guarantee of endgame. It is no guarantee of a happy ever after ending, which IS required of the romance genre.

I can’t predict what the endgame is going to look like, My timing is always off on that, perhaps because they are doing the endgame at the end of the story only thing which is something I would not prefer. I don’t see any reason why they shouldn’t give us a kiss or more now, since it’s already a love story. I admit my frustration with the romance genre and my preference for sci fi/fantasy. I also admit my ignorance of the romance genre. I’ve spent decade on learning sci fi and fantasy and only read romance for fun. But the truth is that in a romance story, the story is over when the characters get together and get what they want, which is happiness with each other. I wanted to see the romance story end and a battle couple arise, but that was not the intent, I don’t think.

The reason why my timing has been always off on romantic Bellarke is because I have been paying attention to the short term story and not the long term story, which is a SERIES LONG STORY. THE WHOLE SERIES. And I also have been resisting the romance genre pacing which says NO ROMANTIC RESOLUTION UNTIL THE END. I’m like, BUT I WANT IT NOW THIS IS SCI FI I CAN HAVE IT NOW. But the story says, Yes this is sci fi, here, have kabby, memori, mackson, marper, clxa, linctavia etc, some doomed some not. Bellarke you don’t get until the end because this is an EPIC LOVE STORY. We go at our own pace. You have to wait.

You know, sometimes I feel like fandom expects very specific, limited scenes, and will only accept those few ideas as the PROOF that Bellarke is real. The kiss/confess/sex scenes. Meanwhile, the writers are conscious of how fandom is defining a canon romance, and is playing with those expectations. We have 2199 calls, a traitor who you love, “I need you,” and all the multiple references to clarke and bellamy loving each other and none of those are accepted. The story takes baby steps towards these benchmarks, and fandom does not accept it.

I was looking at the scene where they first landed on Sanctum and remembering how gaga fandom was over the bellarke romance in that scene, but when compared to the bellarke romance that we got later, that first scene is very lightweight. And yet, even though season 6b was HEAVY bellarke romance, we aren’t accepting that as romance. And now you’re asking me questions as if there isn’t any bellarke romance and we’re just sitting here waiting for some evidence that they’re in a relationship. First of all, they’ve ALWAYS been in a relationship because the show is ABOUT their relationship. And if you’ll remember, JR confirmed that it was about Clarke and her relationship with Bellamy. Second of all, that relationship has STEADILY gotten more romantic, despite time, space, death and other romances getting in the way.

So here’s what I’m saying. Bellarke are IN a relatonship. It is a ROMANTIC relationship because they are in love with each other. It is not acknowledged or consummated because of everything that has happened in the plot. But they are soulmates and partners who love each other and need each other and value each other. They are so essential to each other that they live in each other’s souls. They can communicate beyond death. His love brings her back. THis is the ACTUAL MAIN PLOT OF SEASON 6 and I feel like you’re asking me if we’ll ever get a canon story about their love while ignoring the canon story of their love and saying only a kiss/confess/sex will count.

THAT IS NOT A LOVE STORY. THAT IS NOT ENDGAME. THAT IS NOT EVEN ROMANCE. If you need to see a kiss/confess/sex scene in order to believe that there is a romance, then you have NOT done your job telling a love story. The romance is in the story. The love is in the characters and their relationship on screen.

I guess I’m frustrated, because I keep pointing out the love story, which is a CANON relationship, which is, actually, a story ABOUT the love between two people. I keep comparing it to Pride and Prejudice, a story that has defined love for the ages, but in which, Elizabeth and Darcy ARE NOT TOGETHER for 99% of the book. There is no kiss. There is no confession... except for the marriage proposal that she rejects so soundly that the ship is killed dead. Which we actually HAD in The 100 with the Hakeldama scene. She makes a proposal. He DESTROYS her, rejects her, she runs away, and bellarke is killed dead.

Except EXCEPT not so fast. Because ever since then, Clarke and Bellamy have gotten closer and more romantic. And this season was freaking FAIRY TALE ROMANCE including the evil step sisters and sinister magician and getting lost in the woods and true love’s kiss saving her life. No. No “official” kiss/confess/sex, or at least not that people can’t say “no that doesn’t count” to. They keep erasing every step of romantic development and saying that doesn’t count because it’s not kiss/confess/sex. And I’m so frustrated that I keep getting these asks that define the romance with kiss/confess/sex again while ignoring the BOATLOAD of romance and love and relationship that is already there.

Help me out here. Please pay attention to the story. Because the STORY, the whole 7 season long story, is ABOUT Bellarke, and it is a love story. In the apocalypse. With lots of tragedy. And sci fi. And those damn chips. Becca I blame you.

But erasing the love story and demanding kiss/confess/sex or you don’t think Bellarke is canon? That’s on fandom. Yes yes I get it. You want them to smoosh faces. I do, too. But not smooshing faces does not mean that this is not a love story and a fantastic one at that.

#the 100 #bellarke #epic love story #kiss/confess/sex

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katalina27ua · 4 years

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RAY SHARKEY

"The chemistry between me and Kenny, put together with the dialogue from Eric, David--all the guys, loaned itself to what was happening. Also, any director that would come up would see this on the first day of shooting and get really excited and stretch themselves a little farther. And production stretched themselves for us...a lot. They went the extra mile for us because they saw what was happening and they weren't pulling the plug after fourteen hours. They were giving us that extra half hour to shoot that extra take of that extra scene and everybody was into it."

"We could not have had a better place in time to do it because everybody on the crew, from the craft servicemen to the people in the production office, would all come to the set to watch the scenes being played. And then the screening rooms in LA were packed because they wanted to see it. It was really special. Kenny and I were just going at it. We were having a good time, we knew something was up, and we knew it wasn't going to last a long time so we just continued to do what we were doing. In fact, one interesting thing that happened is that when we were shooting the last episode, that was one of the worst weeks in Vancouver. We all knew Sonny was leaving and me for too, it was really gut-wrenching. I had made a deal to do this movie and I couldn't get any farther away from Vancouver than Greece, you know what I mean? I had already made the deal and it was really solemn. The vibes were thick." We started to shoot the last episode and every hour it would get better and better and better. Specifically what happened is that we shot the last part first. We shot all the exteriors, the chase sequences in the cars, and then we went into the theatre and we stayed in the theatre for five days. We used different parts of the theatre for different sections of the episode, so what we did was shoot all the end stuff first because it was easier to shoot it there. The wild thing is that everyone would come into the theatre, take their seats and watch this play. We were covering it from a lot of different angles because it was so well written that no matter how we played it, it got better and better. Naturally when that happens you shoot the shit out of it which was what was happening take after take. And then this funny thing happened. They had to shoot my death and naturally I had this stunt guy go and get electrocuted and I had to do the closeup. I actually watched myself die. It was really, really strange and really bizarre. Everybody in the crew started crying and it was really heavy. It was over." "The funny thing that happened is that they wanted to shoot an extra episode, so they had to shoot an extra episode the following week and the joke was that we were shooting a ghost. I was not Sonny anymore. I was Ray. Sonny was dead for all of us. We all watched him die and it was really insane." "The other thing that happened is when we shot 'Good Lovin'. We had a director named Robert Iscove and Robbie was a dancer and choreographer, and I being a dancer and a singer, it lent itself to what we did. We didn't have anything laid out on paper, but we would go to the specific sections of the song and set and say, 'Okay, let's break it up into four bars each shot,' and I'd say, 'I'm going to face that way.' We didn't know what we were going to do, but they would roll the camera, roll the song and I would destroy and do whatever in one section of the place and move on to other sections, and really wing it and we had it all together. It was really wild. Nobody had ever done it like that before. That's insane to do that and get away with it, but we were on such a roll at that point." It had come from Eric Blakeney's show, 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell' and what had happened is that the show went on as usual, but the last fifteen minutes of the show was the bachelor party and the day after the bachelor party we started shooting the second half. That night we spent the whole day shooting the bachelor party which you never hear of in television. Even Cannell came up, sat at the top of a ladder so he could see the whole thing. Everybody was there and I remember doing that speech in one take and we moved on. By the end of the night we were in a lot of trouble. Everybody was in overtime, but nobody cared. Steven Cannell gave this great speech from on top of the ladder, 'There's magic happening tonight and I want to thank you guys for what you've done for me and what we've done for each other.' He gave this great speech like, 'Go ahead, knock yourselves out,' and everybody was into it. We had a young Canadian crew and they really got spoiled. Rarely in my life do those things happen; rarely are you on the set and looking in the eyes of the crew and you're aware of what's happening. Needless to say, it took six months for me to finally separate from everybody. We were all calling each other all the time. I had not had the opportunity to see the episodes because I was away. I called Kenny and everybody and found out that the show was great." "I really didn't realize the power that it had until I got back to America because I was traveling around and everybody was like, 'Good morning, Mr. Steelgrave.' I remember arriving in the New York airport and people went nuts over me. I was turning around to see who they were goggling over. When the reruns came on it was even worse. Boxes of mail arrived at the office addressed to me. It was insane and crazy time. I thought, 'Wow, we really must have done it' and it's been wild ever since."

"Half the people who are fans caught it on the reruns. CBS put me on this promotional tour which was unprecedented. Nobody ever went on a promo tour for reruns, but the mail was so incredible that we went out and did this tour and people were giving us these Sonnyisms. I was in Brooklyn over the summer and I had this guy come up to me...I always have people come up to me and they're always big fans, they know this and they know that, but this guy knew every line of every show. I'm telling you, I was impressed. He did Sonny better than I did. He knew every line, and I mean obscure lines, he knew all of Vinnie and Sonny's dialogue." "One thing that happened is that Kenny and I worked so closely together that he knew all my lines and I knew all his. So we would do impressions of each other of what we did because we didn't get a chance to watch dailies. We would start doing each other's lines from different episodes, and we would play a game in which we would try to guess what episode the dialogue was coming from. What you really wanted to see was Ray Sharkey doing Vinnie Terranova and Ken Wahl doing Sonny Steelgrave. Then we transcended that and took it to another level. This is something that has to be in the book because it wasn't on film. We were having such a good time and our creative juices were flowing, and in between takes we created these two old guys named Archie and Sam. They were really Sonny and Vinnie, but they were like 90 years old and they farted all the time, had bad manners, loved tits and ass, you know, those kind of guys. They were stuck in an old actors home where they would discuss their days in Vancouver on WISEGUY. Those were the *real* interesting guys." "I got an award from the Viewers for Quality Television and it was unprecedented. I look back at it now and it's really very simple. That's part of the reason I've got Eric Blakeney on my new show, because I understand that these guys understand the guys they were writing about, which was about the human dilemma. They were the ones writing about themes that came out of the Bible that were very simple. That's the truth, you know. They would take things out of the Bible and Eric would say, 'Well, this is Caesar's arc, this is the Caesar week,' or this is Jacob's week or Job's week. And he really would use very simple dilemmas in terms of betrayal, honor, honesty, just real simple things that happened between men and men or men and women. And it all worked for us, because no matter what happened in the scope of things, Vinnie Terranova was a liar and he was not brought up to be a liar. Here he meets this man and they fall in love with each other because of their common denominator: morality. When people become friends, it's like an unwritten law that they know that morally, they're the same person. They know that they would not cross that line and there really isn't a price that they are willing to pay; that they're not for sale, and that makes for a bond of friendship. I think we played with that bond every week. We tried to figure out how far we could take it and the reason that the last two episodes are so powerful is that we took it to the limit. *Betrayal* That's what made it work." "I remember a San Francisco paper that had this great quote. They called us, I don't remember the exact word, but it was real sexy and it dealt with love between two guys without homosexual overtones. It was the first time you got to see that. It was the first time that two guys got to look at each other with 'Nights in White Satin' in the background, no dialogue and them just looking at each other with no homosexual bullshit. That's a testament to David Burke, Eric Blakeney, Steven Cannell, Steve Kronish, because they wrote the material. Really, all I had to do was act it. I would love to be able to say I deserve all the credit, but that's not true. It was all on paper for me." "Every week I would come down to LA and would battle with these guys about structure, about what we should be talking about, but I would never write dialogue. I would say, 'We should be talking about love and not about bullets.' And they would get that. Kenny and I would fight for different things in Vancouver, but it was never really a fight. It was something that they always understood to be real." "A DEAL'S A DEAL was supposed to show Sonny kicking the dog and I have a knack of kicking the dog and making you feel sorry for me. That's what acting is all about. That's just a little trick that I do, although it's not really a trick. It's something you're trained to do. I was constantly getting that, but listen, there was nothing they could do to get me to perform it a different way. It's not that I was stubborn, but that's just the way it was happening existentially. Hindsight, everybody's a genius. While we were doing it, everybody was just doing the best they could. We shot an alternate ending and I think it was to placate Kenny and I as our swan song together. When we did the episode, Kenny and I were always getting all this fan mail and we were saying, 'The audience wants to see Vinnie and Sonny have a good time. That's what they want so now we have an opportunity to do it.' A DEAL'S A DEAL was a whole new episode, so we figured we could do Sonny and Vinnie on the road. They pick up a girl hitchhiking and they both fall for her and it's guy stuff. Let's get out of the gangster mode and do a friendship episode and they were like, 'No, no, no, no.' They really wanted this episode to make Sonny look bad and it didn't work. What happened, though, is they gave Kenny and I a little crumb, which was that they allowed us to shoot a tag...we shot two tags. One that was in the show you saw, and the other tag was Kenny and I in an empty ballroom at night with two girls we had been up all night with. We were partying and having a good time. The camera would start at the end of the ballroom and eventually end up real close on us. We would laugh, we'd do bumps and grinds with the girls and we'd slow dance with them. And there was one guy up there playing the saxophone and that was it. Kenny and I would look at each other and then at each other's girls and he would get a feel, like kids, and we would laugh at each other. He was with a black girl and I was with a white girl who was like a real show broad. It was really the essence of who these two guys are. We'd look at each other, give each other the high sign and start making out with the girls, and then he walked away with his girl and said, 'I'll see you, Sonny.' It was like real schoolboy stuff. I think it was a little too risque for the guys in LA and I really think it was to placate Kenny and I." "I warned them. I said, 'Don't you get it by now? Nobody is ever going to dislike me. We're eight hours into this show already and it hasn't happened yet. Do you really it's going to happen in one hour? Let's go in the other direction and make it sloppy.' They said, 'But Sonny is a murderer. He's about to kill Patrice.' I said, 'I'm doing it because he deserves it. They're going to love me killing him.' 'No, no, no, no.' Well, sure as shit...." "It did have twinges of THE IDOLMAKER. I think David Burke went and took ideas from it. I remember saying to him that there were a lot of similarities, so what they did was add a subplot about my brother and my feeling bad about him with the rifle. So, again, I wouldn't let them paint me into a corner. As long as you've got the emotional stuff going, you're all right. And I think that in doing all of this, they've really found a way of making old shows on television. If you do back and look at PLAYHOUSE 90, BEN CASEY, and the early detective shows, they're really about people. What we did in the 70's was put in a lot of action and I think if you look at the top ten shows in television today, you'll see that they're people shows. If you write good dialogue and you have good actors, say it, then all you have to do is be on a nice closeup and you can get through an hour or half hour. We've explored that area in the action crime drama genre, whereas it hadn't been explored since the late fifties and early sixties. WISEGUY is an attempt to bring that back to television. I know for me it is. My new series, that's what Eric and I would like to do and nothing less than that." "I've got to tell you, a lot of what you saw in my performance was really Ken Wahl being so in love with Sonny, and he and I being such good friends that he really would give me these little directions. Sonny had most of the dialogue so Kenny was a listener when he was with me. If he had the time to listen he also had the time to see my performance and I would let him direct me. He would and I trusted him. He'd say, 'That take was better, I think you should do it that way,' and he'd give me these little things. He'd say, 'This isn't real, Ray,' Sometimes he wasn't in a scene and he would do that. I knew when I left Vancouver that I had left a little piece of myself with him and vice versa, and it was good that that happened. We probably could have gone on for a few more episodes, but I don't think so." "Once they killed me, it was over. In other words, after the fourth or fifth episode, Kenny and I came down to Stephen Cannell's office and said, 'Listen, we think we've got something. I'd like to stay for a little while.' Stephen said, 'I have sсript commitments, sets are being built, and I've got to bring in this new arc.' He was very nice to Kenny and I, came up to Vancouver one more time, took us out to lunch and explained to us how he would *like* to, but he couldn't take the risk then. From that moment on, I was gone; I knew I was a goner and just moved accordingly." "I was getting so much mail that I had to let people see Sonny again, only as an actor I couldn't come back from the dead. Kenny Wahl had a story that worked out perfectly for him at both levels [White Noise?]. For me, it was just about going up to Vancouver and having a good time before everybody broke before Christmas and it was a reunion. That's really, for me, what it was all about and for Kenny I think it was the same thing. I don't want to take a shot at it in any other direction." "You know, Ken Wahl's whole line in the entire show, the one that made me fall in love with him as an actor was when he said, 'This is about the law, man!' For one moment Sonny believed it. At that moment Sonny looked at him and knew it was over, like all the great heroes throughout history he was just waiting to die. That's the whole deal! That's all David Burke, and suddenly Sonny is talking like Abbie Hoffman and getting away with it." "Another thing that allowed me to know Sonny even better was, for the first time he talked about his old man, and they talked about their fathers. I remember when we were acting it out, I was like choking. I didn't want to cry, so I was choking, holding it in, but whew, it was real heavy. 'Last time I saw my old man he went to buy a cigar.' He's standing there telling Vinnie that even though his father had a bread truck and a route, that really there was no difference between both their fathers. It was *so* poignant. When I hear 'Good Lovin' I can't help but think of that scene; I sing it in my head. I remember we worked for weeks and weeks, David and I, trying to pick out a song. I remember the last one we found was 'Five to one, one to five, no one here gets out alive.' I wanted to sing that or a Doors song, something that to do with really deep dark stuff and David wanted 'Good Lovin'. I remember we argued about that for weeks, but then the one line made so much sense to me. Sonny was singing into the mirror, 'I asked my family doctor just what I had...I said, Doctor, Mr. MD, can you tell, what's ailin' me?' I said, 'Of course, that's the song. How stupid that I didn't see it.' That was an interesting thing that happened." "Remember THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL and the speech Sonny had made when he was walking around the table? Eric Blakeney had a whole other speech written. About a week before we shot the show there was something wrong with that speech, something that wasn't right. What happened was Eric came up to Vancouver with his wife and little baby. I went up to his room to visit him and I remember being so caught up in the fact that he had this little baby. I grabbed the baby, picked it up out of the crib and smelled its head and we started talking about life, and that that was what life really was. The smell of that baby's head and how it's interesting that old people's heads and babies' heads smell alike, so the closer you get to the void, maybe that's the scent that emanates from your body. We got into this discussion about life and the meaning of it. Whatever I was telling Eric the next day he wrote into a monologue, so that monologue was really a discussion he and I were having about his baby's head. That's what it was like; that's the artistic freedom you got on the set that day." "It was a great part and read like an old 30s gangster movie and I knew it was important for me as an actor, not necessarily for my career. I didn't foresee that or think it was going to be great. I just thought it was a great opportunity for me to act. Part of the reason people fell in love with Sonny is that I played him at a time in my life when I had no choices left as Ray but to be honest in my life and my work and it was new for me then. I had just gotten out of the hospital and been through an ordeal in my life, and this was fresh, new and honest. I had to find the honesty in every line and I had to play it real and truthful, so what happened is that a lot of who I was seeped into that part. My values, morally, politically, ethically, socially, and it transcended just being Sonny Steelgrave, it became this wonderful guy. It happened because I was at this point in my life where I had no more defenses; all the veils had been lifted from me and all the walls were torn down." --quoted material from THE UNOFFICIAL STORY OF THE MAKING OF A WISEGUY, copr. 1990 Pioneer Books PROFITT After the critical success of STEELGRAVE and the great press it brought, the WG staff was faced with trying to maintain the show's momentum. According to Les Sheldon, "We never try to outdo ourselves. We never wonder how we can top ourselves because we'll just get in our own way. We have gotten in a comfortable level of working as hard as we can with as much ability as each one can bring to the show and we'll continue to do that." But despite Sheldon's public voice of confidence there were some voices of concern. Stephen Kronish noted that, "The relationship between Ken and Ray was so comfortable and the show working so well that there were a lot of people saying, 'Well why are we getting rid of this thing? This is going so great.' But we felt that if we didn't do that, then what is Vinnie Terranova? He's not doing his job." Outspoken as usual, Eric Blakeney had his own opinion on what happened to WG after Sharkey left. "I thought after Sonny Steelgrave the series lost its edge and never got it back when we went into the Mel and Susan Profitt arc. I just felt that this was like writing for cartoons. These weren't people. These were psychological symptoms that had nothing to do with human beings whatsoever. We were putting on a freak show from that point on. I myself was never turned by helicopters landing on boats, James Bond cars and lunatic-psycho killers. They had nothing to do with people as far as I'm concerned. Everybody knows that the first arc was the best and there was no way to get it back, except to cast superstars, rock and rollers, Jerry Lewis, and so on. That's the only way they can get the P.R. and attention, by casting the flavor of the month. Someday you'll probably see Madonna and Michael Jackson as the arch villains." Now that Eric's mentioned it, Mel and his beyond extravagant lifestyle do bear a striking resemblance to the baroque villains from the Roger Moore BOND films. "The perfect analogy, you have to use sensationalism to sustain the series. Connery had the magic of the personality and the emotion. The series just doesn't have the emotion intact because Vinnie's not really forming those kinds of complex emotional relationships. His bad guys are clear cut to him. To me, the great thing about the series was the conflict between the good guys and the bad guys. You go undercover with a Mel and Susan Profitt, you know who the hell the bad guys are. Here's a guy who talks to his toes while his incestuous sister is putting needles under his toe nails. They're ordering everybody on the face of the planet killed and they make fifty million dollars a day with their drug empire. A DAY! There are many countries that don't make fifty million dollars a day. The whole thing was just completely fantastic and far-fetched." David Burke doesn't share his opinion. "There was a very strong reaction to the Steelgrave arc because this was new television. It was cutting edge and people were saying it was revolutionary and that whatever we did, we'd never be able to do it again. From our point of view, that's invalid. Why would we suddenly loose the ability to do what we were doing? I think what made the Steelgrave arc unique is that it was simply something we had never seen before. I think we've done much better shows since then, but television hadn't done what we had done before and that's what made the challenge, 'What's next for Vinnie? What is the natural growth of the character? It may not be as exciting, but if it's real, that's what important. Creatively we're the same people as we were in the Steelgrave arc. It wasn't something that we worried about." Director Robert Iscove observed, "No one quite knew where to go after Sharkey. He had become such an incredibly strong presence and everyone was saying in the reviews at the time that the show was so much Steelgrave, that they worried if you pulled him out of this, what do you have left of WISEGUY? Kenny proved them wrong."

#Wiseguy #Sonny Steelgrave #Vinnie Terranova #Ray Sharkey #21 ноября 2019

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raendown · 5 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3954 Chapter: 10/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 10

Despite sharing an office with two other Senju who had chosen to devote themselves to administrative duties over active missions, on a day to day basis Tobirama found himself alone more often than not. His two office-mates were both the busybody type prone to sticking their noses in to other people’s business but it served them well when they had both also taken on perhaps more duties than wise. Most of their time was spent in other people’s offices speaking about one project or another, sometimes milling around in what was coming to be known as the Mission Room to gather information from their returning soldiers.

Usually Tobirama had very little problems with the way this worked out for him. The rare occasions when one of his office partners took it in to their heads to bother him about his own work were well worth suffering through to earn his own quiet space the large majority of the time. In fact, it was only now as he sat staring across the desk at a middle-aged woman with all the markings of a civilian that he realized there might be one downside to having the room to himself.

He didn’t have anyone to fall back on for picking up his slack with socializing.

Though he tried his best not to look too intimidating or disinterested, there was only so much he could do without slipping over in to Hashirama territory and greeting her with a hug or some other garish nonsense. The woman stared back at him as one does when faced with a particularly daunting task and visibly steeled herself before stepping further in to the room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said and Tobirama shook his head.

“Paperwork is patient – sometimes. How may I help you?”

“Oh I don’t – um. I don’t need any help. Actually I was hoping to present Tobirama-sama with a gift if that- if that’s okay?” Clearly nervous, she still managed to gather the courage to step a little closer and clutch tightly at the satchel she was wearing on one side.

Intrigued, Tobirama blinked. “A gift? I’m not sure I’ve done anything to earn such things.”

“Well, um, Tobirama-sama might think of it as more of an apology.”

At the curious tilt of his head the woman rummaged through her satchel in a flurry of motion before holding out a small package with both hands shaking ever so slightly from the tension in her body. The package itself was wrapped in plain blue cloth and tied neatly with a white bow. Tobirama took it from her more because he was worried she might think he was rejecting her offer than anything else, a little too stunned to know how he should be reacting himself.

“I can’t imagine what you need to apologize for,” he murmured, one eye on the package and the other on his guest. Her looks were distinctly Uchiha if one were able to see past the softness of her civilian musculature and the unusually light shade of her hair.

“When Tobirama-sama came to the clan we did our best to respect your traditions and treat you as we thought you would expect to be treated. Madara-sama has spoken to us and told us of the insult we gave by accident. We didn’t mean to!” Her buried bow rather neatly covered the way Tobirama’s jaw hung loose with shock. “Please consider this gift an apology from my friends and me in the marketplace. We only sought to make Tobirama-sama more comfortable but in our ignorance we–”

“Please,” Tobirama interrupted her, half standing from his chair and reaching out as though to physical stop her from bowing. “There’s no need to apologize. I was never angry.” Well, not after the situation was explained to him and he’d had time to calm down. He’d been sad, of course, but he wasn’t going to mention that to this earnest woman here trying to make amends for something that wasn’t her fault. Feeling extraordinarily awkward, Tobirama looked down at the gift in his hands and murmured, “You really didn’t have to get me something.”

With slow words the woman pursed her lips and asked, “Does Tobirama-sama wish for me to take the gift back?”

“Let’s not start a loop of accidentally offending each other, I beg you.” Rubbing the space between his brows, he nearly missed it when his guest began to laugh.

“Of course not, my lord.”

He opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t need to call him lord or anything of the kind but she spoke just before he could, dismissing herself and bowing out of the room with well wishes and urgings for him to enjoy the present. Tobirama slumped back in to his seat without really knowing how he felt.

The gift itself was surprise enough but to know that Madara had spoken to his people, presumably at one of the clan meetings Tobirama had never bothered to attend, and explained how their good intentions had gone wrong? Of all the kindnesses he never would have expected from his husband that was something he wouldn’t have even thought to put on the list. It was downright thoughtful.

Such a gesture deserved one in return, of course. Tobirama knew enough from observing other marriages in his own clan to know that give deserved take. The main problem was that he had no idea what gesture he could make in return. All the things he thought he knew about Madara from exchanging letters had been rendered unreliable by the discovery that it hadn’t been Madara he’d written to after all and it wasn’t as though he’d spent a great deal of time getting to know the man since their wedding night. If the last couple of weeks had told him anything it was that he should probably do so now. Better late than never.

First, however, he needed to open the bundle he was still holding absently between both hands. Soft blue cloth rustled softly as he gently set it down to fiddle with the bow. Just cutting the white ribbon felt like a disservice despite there being no one here to judge him for his present opening habits so Tobirama took a moment to pick the bow apart and slide it off, allowing the cloth wrapping to slough down and reveal the contents. He recognized the packaging as soon as he laid his eyes on it and smiled. Surely it must have been nothing more than a lucky guess for the woman and her friends to pick out his favorite incense, the same scent he’d been burning since his mother passed away because it carried so many memories of her, but he could appreciate lucky guesses when they hit the mark so well.

The gift included a new burner which Tobirama very carefully put away in his desk drawer so he could decide where to set it up later. He didn’t want his officemates using it without asking and there was little point in setting it up in either his lab or his home since one was not an environment for open heat sources and the other he still didn’t devote more time to than necessary.

It was with that in mind that he checked the time and stretched his senses in search of Madara. Unusually considering it was the end of the work day his husband was making his way up to the top floor of the tower to drop off whatever files he needed to in his father’s office, something he normally did at lunch. Tobirama did not envy him that duty. Tensions had been high between the two founders of their village over the past little while leaving everyone but the two heirs grateful that they were afforded the distance of sending their work by courier. The runners, at least, never seemed to get yelled at for bearing bad news. It was easy enough to have everything of his own work squared away by the time Madara's chakra signature backed out of Tajima’s office to descend the main staircase.

At first sight his husband paid him no more attention than they usually afforded each other when passing in the hallways. Tobirama figured he had only himself to blame for the necessity of turning quickly on his heel to fall in step with the man he was looking for.

“Did you need something?” Madara's voice carried the faintest overtones of apology and Tobirama very carefully looked straight ahead as he answered.

“Nothing,” he admitted. “We’re both leaving. I just thought we might walk together – if you are headed towards home, that is.” Too late it occurred to him that Madara might have made other plans for his evening than hanging around in a house where he usually found himself alone.

Just in time to be as annoying as all older siblings were destined to be, Hashirama appeared between them a moment later and clapped his best friend on the shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Ah.” Tobirama desperately hoped he didn’t look quite as awkward as he felt.

“Oh, I almost didn’t see you there, Tobi!” Hashirama smiled and tried to clap him on the shoulder as well, a gesture he brushed away before it could connect.

“Get your eyes checked, I’m not even the same color as anything in this hallway.”

“Hey!”

Ignoring that pout was easy after a lifetime of practice. Tobirama blinked past him at Madara and decided he didn’t even want to make an attempt to figure out what thoughts were going on behind that strange expression. He’d already embarrassed himself, the best thing to do now if he wanted to salvage his pride would be to bow out with grace and not make a scene.

Madara had other ideas, apparently.

“Go away, Hashirama,” he grunted shortly. Tobirama blinked while Hashirama clasped his chest like he’d been stabbed.

“But we were going for tea!”

Trying to be subtle, Tobirama shook his head and murmured, “You are free to go enjoy your tea.”

“I said go away. We can have tea tomorrow.” Madara retaliated to the kindly greeting his friend had given him by clapping Hashirama so hard between the shoulder blades that he stumbled and then stepped around him to pull Tobirama away by the sleeve. “Don’t give me those sad eyes, you just spent all day with me! You’ll survive without tea. Go home to your wife.”

“You didn’t have to ruin your plans,” Tobirama told him as soon as they stepped outside and left Hashirama out of earshot. “I really didn’t need anything important.”

“Maybe I was just tired of his face.” Underneath the gruff bravado Madara's voice still sounded vaguely apologetic and that was just embarrassing enough for Tobirama to shut his mouth with a light cough. He was the one who had interrupted previously made plans but there was no way he was having this ‘no need to apologize’ conversation twice in one day.

He settled for an awkward nod and trying to remember what he was supposed to do with his arms while walking. Why, he asked himself as they both joined the crowds choking the streets, had he thought this was a nice gesture? Not a single topic of conversation occurred to him no matter how desperately he wished to fill the silence. Instead they rounded two corners and crossed at least a quarter of the distance back to their shared domicile in utter silence, occasionally peeking over at each other only to look away in a hurry when their eyes met unexpectedly.

At some point the crowds began to thin and by the time they passed out of the village center in to the more residential areas they were nearly alone on each street. Tobirama continued to wrack his brain for something to say all the way up until Madara finally broke the tension.

“Were you…planning to stay in tonight?” he asked. Tobirama was glad they weren’t standing still, which made it much easier to resist the urge to shuffle his feet like a nervous child.

“Unless you were hoping to invite guests. I wouldn’t wish to intrude.”

“S’your house too,” Madara said under his breath.

An odd thrill ran through Tobirama’s limbs when he heard that and he found himself asking, “Is there anything in particular you might like for dinner? I wouldn’t mind cooking.”

“Oh. Uh. I don’t know, whatever you feel like making should be fine.”

He was indescribably grateful that Madara didn’t bother with any polite refusals or asking if he was sure because just making the offer in the first place had taken enough courage and he wasn’t sure he could have defended his own decision. Not when convincing himself to make it in the first place had already needed so much effort. The thrill of success felt a little like electricity at his fingertips, though, and he found that his thoughts were much clearer now that the silence wasn’t quite so stifling between them.

“I was thinking gyudon. Not that difficult to make and it’s nice to have something other than fish at least every once in a while.” Also from what he could remember of the last time he poked his nose in to the kitchen for a quick meal he was fairly sure they had everything he would need to make gyudon.

“That sounds fine. You…like fish?”

“My favorite. Any kind of fish, really, but there’s this one kind I tried the last time I was in Uzushio–” Without even realizing what he was doing Tobirama hared off on a tangent about one of his biggest passions outside of anything related to battle: the many and varied seafood dishes he had enjoyed in his lifetime. Madara actually asked a few questions so it wasn’t until he saw their house down the street that he realized he’d just babbled away their entire journey about fish. In his efforts to build more positive relations between them he had probably just alienated the man by painting himself as a boring idiot with nothing better to talk about.

A great deal of effort went in to snapping his jaw shut to cut off the flow of inane chatter and Tobirama silently made a few unflattering comparisons between himself and his brother as they stepped in to the house together. They busied themselves with kicking off their regulation sandals and setting them in neat little pairs on opposite sides of the genkan. While Madara pulled off the light coat he’d thrown over his typical robes and hung it up Tobirama scurried out of the way and turned towards the kitchen.

The first thing he did was open the fridge and shove his head out of sight behind the door where he could squeeze his eyes shut and berate himself for being so stubbornly awkward. Never before had he had such trouble communicating with other people – and that was saying something considering how stiff and unapproachable even his own reserved clan tended to find him. Yet here he was with a husband of his own and years of lessons in the Senju traditions all running through his mind telling him exactly how to charm his spouse, make the best of the life he had been given, and still he found his brain as empty as a leaking sieve.

Before he could do anything as telling as give himself a tight slap across the mouth to get his thoughts in order Madara stepped hesitantly in to the kitchen as well, forcing Tobirama to scramble for the ingredients he would need and pull away from his hiding spot.

“Would you like some help?” Madara offered. “I can prepare the vegetables if you prepare the beef.”

“Oh. Yes. I would- thank you.”

The break in his words seemed to amuse Madara, if nothing else. Tobirama supposed laughing at him for tripping on his own speech was better than scowling darkly at him for daring to step foot inside the home before night had fallen.

With a startling amount of ease the two of them danced around each other in the limited kitchen space, each attending to their own half of the preparations. Tobirama could have sworn he felt Madara's eyes on him a few times as he sliced the meat and cracked a few eggs in to a clean bowl but each time he turned to look he found the man’s eyes locked on to the onions and scallions before him. Either he was imagining things or his hyper awareness of every move they both made was playing tricks on his mind.

He had only just added the onions to the pan he’d been heating when Madara once again proved himself the braver of the two of them in social situations like this, keeping his attention on the sauce ingredients he was measuring out.

“I understand you were part of the meeting with the Inuzuka delegation?” he waited until Tobirama nodded the affirmative before going on. “What’s your impression of them?” Tobirama kept his face towards the onions to cover up the shock that his opinion might count for something.

“Loud,” he murmured because that was the first thing that came to mind. “An uncouth bunch from my experiences, although they make excellent trackers and their skills on the battlefield are not to be sneezed at. If they are allotted a separate compound as most of the other larger clans have asked for then I don’t foresee many problems with their integration beyond the usual phase of finding where they fit in best and who they get along with the easiest.”

“The adjustment period.” Madara nodded agreeably.

“Precisely.”

Stirring his onions and pulling the sliced beef a bit closer in preparation, Tobirama dared to peek over at his husband. Not so much at his expression, thoughtful and focused on their conversation as he appeared to be, but rather at the man himself. Long dark lashes framing deep set eyes with permanent dark circles that would not have worked on any other face. Cheeks that never quite lost the final bit of baby fat, puffing out with indignation and rage almost every time he left the house. Small bits of hair broke off from the thick tangle flowing down his back to hang down and frame his face like a living portrait. All in all he made quite the image. Enough so that Tobirama came very close to getting lost in that image until Madara turned to him with a questioning lift of one brow.

“No qualms with them, then? You’ll welcome them in to the village once they finally sign the treaty like everyone else?”

“Well…I could live without the dogs they insist on taking with them everywhere.” Tobirama wrinkled his nose. He understood the bonds they made with their companions but…

“If they kept cats I would be much more enthusiastic to have them here.”

He blinked, not expecting to have his thoughts given voice. “I feel much the same. Cats are cleaner, quieter, and much more suited to the life of a shinobi who doesn’t wish to announce their presence ten minutes before they arrive anywhere.”

“Exactly! I’m sure there must be some nice folk among the Inuzuka but…they’re just so loud, them and the dogs both. We’re not likely to make great friends off of the battlefield.” Madara shook his head.

“Your territory was a little closer to theirs than ours was before the village was built and I have to say”-Tobirama paused to smirk-“I don’t envy you that. Allow me to thank you now for keeping them occupied and saving me the headache of dealing with them more often.”

“Little shit.” Madara rolled his eyes but he too was smiling and Tobirama felt like he’d won a medal.

“I already had Hashirama to deal with. Adding the Inuzuka in to the mix would have driven me crazy before I reached double digits.” Just thinking about it made him shudder. He couldn’t imagine what sort of madness he would have had to put up with if he’d had to battle Hashirama’s frequent idiocies on top of smelling the Inuzuka’s dogs every time he stepped outside the compound walls.

He doubted any of them had even tried owning cats, the heartless bastards.

Madara, on the other hand, appeared to be a smarter man than Tobirama knew in that he also preferred cats to dogs. On the list of things he thought they might have in common he really should have expected that one considering the relationship between the Uchiha clan and the ninneko hidden beneath the streets of Sora-ku. Tobirama had never been able to keep a pet cat before, not wanting to set off Hashirama’s allergies, but he wondered if maybe now Madara might be okay with it. Village life lent itself much better to keeping pets anyway.

“That’s very fair. Much as your brother has become a very dear friend I don’t know that I would survive living with him.” His husband laughed and Tobirama was surprised to feel jealously at his words. A friend, Madara had called him, and he trusted that Hashirama felt only the same in return. There was no need to worry himself about whatever relationship was building between the two of them but they had at least a kind of relationship and for that he envied his own sibling.

“If I know my brother then he’s probably invited you to stay the night after dinner several times.” Tobirama finally deemed the beef cooked well enough and slowly began to add in the ingredients for the sauce. “Perhaps you should take him up on the offer sometime and experience for yourself the horrors I’ve had to put up with.”

“Like?”

“Ugh, like his morning breath.”

Apparently that wasn’t the sort of answer Madara was expecting because it startled a booming laugh out of him, unselfconscious and free in a way Tobirama was sure he himself had never managed in his life. Mirth painted twin circles of pink across Madara's cheeks and the look was so nice on him that Tobirama nearly forgot to stir the gyudon to keep their dinner from burning. Unsurprising, that. Physical attraction had never been the problem between them; Tobirama could remember having to control his face very strictly upon catching his first glimpse of the beauty he was to be married to. The trouble had been their spectacular skills in miscommunication up until recently.

When their meal was finally ready he was pleased to have kept the conversation going with the same light tone and not a single argument yet. By the time he had served two generous bowls and sat down with the drinks Madara poured for them he was feeling more optimistic about the future than he had in half a year. With just a little extra effort it seemed they were able to get along after all, which gave him hope for the things he had been groomed to wait his entire life for.

A happy home and a partner to lean on when the days were long, what more could anyone ask for in life? If he tried hard to keep things moving as they had been lately he, too, might have those things. Watching the smile on Madara's face as they circled back to a happy discussion of why cats were far superior to dogs, seeing the languid way he sat in his chair as though they had no reason to be ill at ease around each other, Tobirama thought to himself that for the first time since their wedding he could finally see the man who might someday become a proper husband.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction

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westeros-rp · 4 years

Text

Was it too late to turn and run? Likely, especially now that they had finally made it too Kings Landing, she had been fairly excited for this trip at first. That was until halfway here she mentioned how she already missed the Dreadfort her father rather bluntly announced that she would be missing it, even more, when she returned to Winterfell with Rickard. By some miracle, she had kept her composure when she inquired as to why she was going to Winterfell with Rickard when they hadn’t even wed yet? Roland had apparently come up with the genius idea to just host a small wedding at Kings Landing, his reasoning being that anyone they would have invited would already be there. Plus it would save him coins, because apparently it was just too much of a hassle planning his own childs wedding. If it hadn’t been for her dear handmaiden Anri’s comfort and Vordt letting her blow off steam by smashing a barrel to bits with his mace, she probably would have smashed her fathers head in with the mace instead.

What was the bloody point in plans when her father was a massive indecisive ass that didn’t think telling her that her wedding had been moved up was all that important? She should have figured out his plan beforehand, even though he was getting old and dumber by the day her father’s wit would make itself known on occasion. She spent the rest of the journey to Kingslanding biting her nails to nothing as she tried to come up with plans on how to delay this. Before realizing there was really nothing she could do, not amongst so many Nobels, she briefly tossed about the idea of exposing her brother Rupert’s romantic relationship with her guard Victor. Yet she knew she would need that later, something to dangle over his head when her father did kick the bucket and he took over the house. She knew she should have smothered the old bastard six months prior when he was bed-bound from a rather horrid cold. His breathing had been so labored, it would have been so easy to get away with it.

At least she had her wedding dress, Anri and her deciding to bring it along so they could go shopping for fabric while in the capitol and work on it there. Boudica had actually taken an interest in the dress, wanting it to be worthy of jealous looks from other women. Yet it appeared they wouldn’t have much time to make it any better than it was now. Boudica found herself to upset at this point to think of it, telling Anri to handle it herself as she thought if she was forced to look at it too long when she was this furious she might rip it to shreds. She could trust Anri’s skills, half of her wardrobe being thanks to Anri’s skilled fingers and the wardrobes that her mother and stepmother had left behind upon there deaths. When she wasn’t thinking about ways to off her father while he was still close she found herself stuck on thoughts of Rickard.

Anri liked to call him dashing, Vordt claimed he seemed like a decent man….Victor agreed with Anri that he was Dashing when Vordt was out of earshot. Was she really the only one upset with the match? Well, she had two reasons, she didn’t want to leave the Dreadfort, second being Rickard wasn’t exactly what she had been hoping to marry. Seeing as the only chance of him ever taking over his family is if every one of his brothers kicked the bucket as well as any children they had. She knew she wasn’t the only woman that would have been upset with this. Seeing as she was her father’s only daughter she figured he’d agree with finding a match for her that would at least be closer to taking over his house then Rickard.

There were good things about him, things she was trying her damndest to ignore. He was sweet, now being a Bolton equaled many things, even if she was a woman there were very few that thought she’d enjoy things like flowers and all the times she had the honor of meeting her bethroed he had presented her with flowers. Pretty ones as well, that he had picked himself! The last person to give her a flower was one of her father’s knights and he boldly proclaimed afterwords that they looked like lady bits and maybe they were as pretty as hers. There was a reason he was no longer one of her father’s knights, daddy dearest was still willing to defend his daughter’s sweet virtue. Rickard seemed like a genuinely kindhearted soul, that was very far from what her family was, and was considered even though she put up a damn good facade.

These thoughts had consumed her once more, she found herself leaning against a random pillar gnawing away at what was left of her nails as she tried to get her mind off Rickard and onto whatever plot she could scrounge up to by herself more time. “So this is where you’ve been hiding?” Boudica stilled her back going straight as she turned to face the other man in her life she wished would just walk off a cliff. Rupert, her solom looking brother. “What does he want?” she hissed out. Rupert flashed her annoyed look rolling his eyes as he made a display of throwing his leather cloak over his shoulder. Showy bastard. “Guess dear sister, he’s quite concerned as to why you haven’t approached your affianced,” Rupert spoke Boudica turning her back to him once more. “I will approach him when I’m ready,” Boudica huffed blowing a piece of curly hair out of her field of vision. “You know just as well as me that’s not what father wants to hear...do you really want to attend your wedding sporting bruises?” Her brother’s words made her throat go dry, if there was anyone that also knew of her father’s cruelty from first-hand experience it was Rupert, and for once she would have to agree with him.

Yet she would never give Rupert the satisfaction of verbally agreeing with him, instead she rather childishly shoved her way past him. Taking in a few deep breaths her usual smile returned to her face, now where would she be able to find Rickard. Likely with Tacita Stark another individual she was going to have to worry about. Marrying Rickard equaled her also being thrown right into the wolves' den. After all the things her father had told her of the Stark’s why did he think marrying her off to Stark’s current first in command was a good idea. No that was a stupid question she knew why he thought it as a good idea, the Stark’s distrusted the Boltons as much as the Boltons distrusted them. This was probably his way of trying to prop up the shaky bridge that was their allegiance to the Starks. Her father might be awful but he was not a fool when it came to the game every Noble house in Westeros played. So Boudica started to follow the trail of individuals she knew tended to stick close to Tacita, and her intuition seemed right as she spotted Rickard not far from the redheaded Stark watching the various trivialities of the Royals.

Composing herself, for what felt like the hundredth time today, she made her approach. “Rickard,” she called out his name, a sing-song undertone to her voice as she flashed him her sweetest smile, though her eyes didn’t seem to show the same sugary overtone she was putting forth. Yet unlike their usual hidden malice they actually seemed to show her worries. Taking in Rickard he hadn’t changed too much since their last meeting, but she could see he seemed rather anxious. At least she wasn’t alone with that. Growing closer to him she gave him the smallest of curtsies, “I’ve been scouring Kings Landing for you, silly man.” she teased, shrugging off the blatant lie, but it wasn’t like he had gone searching for her either so why should she feel so bad about it!? “I’m sure your brother was informed, we’re to be wed while in Kings Landing….I hope you’ve come prepared.” there was a sharpness to her last statement, coated in her usual sweet tone.

With her hands tucked behind her back and her most innocent look on her face she waited for his reply. “I suppose we are getting married this weekend” He did seem a bit off today? Was he truly this nervous over their marriage, or was he just nervous to be in a place like Kings Landing? After all this was certainly far different from the North, and she found herself missing the North already herself. "Yes, my father only informed me halfway here....what a wonderful surprise." The slightest twinge of sarcasm slips into her voice before she corrects herself. "Needless to say I will likely have to see if I can get some of the servants to drop my things off at Winterfell. I'll have to send out a Raven later today." She takes a few caution steps towards him, before stopping to stand at his side. "I hope you could ask Lady Tacita to have a few of her men be on the lookout for my things if they arrive before our return." She mutters, she really hoped that someone would be willing to receive her property, she actually had quite a few sentimental things that she rather not get destroyed by being left in the snow.

“I wasn’t aware that you were not notified of our upcoming nuptials...I apologize. We received notice just prior to leaving Winterfell.” Rickard nods, “I can ask her. Taci is incredibly kind. Would you like any other arrangements?” She wanted to tell him that she was clearly kind to him because they were dear friends. Yet she was sure if she approached Tacita herself and requested such things it would be a very different response. Boltons and Starks have always butted heads "You haven't had many conversations with my father, have you? I'm just lucky I thought to bring my wedding dress."Boudica rolled her eyes, Rickard was lucky she wished she knew less of her father the more she learned about him,"I do not wish to strain Lady Tacita any further, I'm sure she is already very busy." She gives Rickard a tight smile. "Though I would like to make arrangements with you, if you have any free time It would be nice to enjoy your company. It's only right for us to try to get to know one another a little more." Where did that come from? She usually wasn’t caught off guard by her own words but here she was asking the man she was trying hard to continue to despise to allow her to get to know him better.

“Our interactions have been limited.” Rickard comments, Boudica was not surprised her father didn’t bother getting to know the man he was marrying her off too. He almost did the same with the first man he attempted to wed her to, but by the grace of the old gods he listened to Boudica when she insisted it was a poor match. “She is happy to help and will be in attendance as well.” He smiles, and her heart leaps in a way that made her want to rip it out of her chest and toss it into the nearest body of water as he speaks of Tacita’s willingness to help. “I have the afternoon free. We could take a walk around the grounds or the garden” He says, "Well, your very lucky then." She'd state letting out a small sigh in comment to him not having spoken much with her father, Glancing at Tacita not far from them, "I suppose...that my handmaiden could use assistance finishing my dress. If she has anyone skilled with needle and thread. I'm unsure if I will have time to help myself. Anri will be ever so grateful for the extra hand and so will I." She says, already feeling bad that she was leaving such a hefty responsibility on her handmaiden."You like plants? So the gardens sound lovely. I feel as if you'd like to spend time there anyway?"She asks, she was a bit interested to see what sort of plants they had here, surely they had many things that she had never seen before.

“I’m sure we can find someone to help.” Rickard nods as she spoke, “that is one way to say it. I’ve enjoyed botany and the like since I was young. I would enjoy to have your company in the gardens.” Smiling widely at him, unsure if it was faked or genuine for once. "I hope so, I sent Anri and Vordt into town to find some more fabric for the dress since she'll have to remove the heavier layers. They shouldn't be too long." She tilts her head. "Ahhhh, so you know quite a bit about plants then? I must admit, I don't know much myself, and we don't exactly have much variety in our plants at the dreadfort. Perhaps you can teach me some things as well." She says, a bit embarrassed to admit her lack of knowledge, she liked to pride herself on knowing things that most women didn’t. Yet plants weren't exactly something she ever had the opportunity to study, her father wasn’t exactly an avid gardener, nor her many deceased relatives. The plants they grew were for necessity and nothing more.

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caffeineivore · 7 years

Note

6, obvs A/Z

I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath. (My heart is layers of scar.)

**TRASHY REGENCY**

The opera singer is the latest in a string of short-lived liaisons that Zane Weston, the Earl of Sinclair, is engaging in. Claudette Harnois is delectably pale underneath the stage makeup, with mischievous blue eyes fringed with black lashes and a lush red pout. She sings like an angel onstage and screams like a banshee off of it in the house that Lord Sinclair has leased for her, sometimes with pleasure, sometimes with rage. He has a bit of a reputation as a rake, one who is kind to his mistresses but never keeps them for long, whose dark-gold locks and devil-may-care grin are a marriageable debutante’s worst fears and greatest temptations rolled into one.

Claudette knows that Sinclair– who tells her to call him ‘Sin’, doesn’t love her. She doesn’t love him, either, but he’s charming and generous in bed, and is rich and indifferent enough to placate her rages with baubles and jewels rather than attempt to calm her down, which suits her needs perfectly. She wears bold, daring gowns cut too low and too brightly coloured for decency, and rouges her mouth to match the scarlet satin she’s wearing. Maybe Sin will give her a ruby when they part ways– he seems to like her in red.

He doesn’t like her in blue.

***

Claudette doesn’t know or care, but she’s merely another pale shadow, another black-haired, blue-eyed woman in a long line of merry widows and courtesans and unhappily-married wives whom Lord Sinclair has shared a dalliance with. In his years in London, he’s cut a wide swath, and if he weren’t so wealthy and handsome and otherwise-gallant, certainly the disapproving matrons of the ton would have given him up for a lost cause long ago. At least, they whisper amongst themselves, he has not ruined any innocents. Though it is shocking that Lord Vernon allows such a rakish young man to be in the company of his daughter, Lady Mariana.

Maybe they’re betrothed? Their families are certainly close.

Certainly not. Lady Vernon seems to have a different match picked out for her daughter. And certainly Lady Mariana is too beautiful to allow her future husband to conduct such scandalous liaisons to the full knowledge of everybody! It is a disgrace. No, Lord Sinclair is not betrothed to anyone… though maybe he simply hasn’t met the right girl, yet. Maybe my Henrietta has a chance. A beautiful estate and ten thousand a year! Certainly she could do worse.

***

But though the girl, Henrietta, shares a quadrille with Lord Sinclair at the next ball, and certainly he is polite enough, Lord Sinclair seems to have no inclination to settle down with her or anyone. He dances most of the dances, though excuses himself to the card room during the last waltz, and is then rumoured to have relieved Viscount Dillonsby of a small fortune. Dillonsby is said to be furious, but unwilling to court the wrath of one of the most formidable and accomplished swordsmen in the peerage. He consoles himself by drinking himself into a stupor at White’s, but not before spitefully remarking to whomever would listen that Sinclair doesn’t deserve his title; it was a demmed pity that his older brother, Thaddeus, had died years ago in a carriage accident. Certainly, the reprobate would bring disgrace to such a respected title that he should never have had.

***

Sinclair hears about Dillonsby’s comments and the latter ends up with both eyes blackened after a bout at Gentleman Jackson’s. However, Sinclair does not demand satisfaction; he has no inclination to waste a perfectly good morning on a foggy field somewhere when he could instead be in the arms of a new mistress. This one is a bit less showy than Claudette, whom he’d parted ways with rather unsentimentally and with the perfunctory present of a ruby pendant. Mrs. Flora Wells is a widow with black curls that dangle distractingly over her ample bosom and a surprisingly sweet smile that reaches all the way up to her bright blue eyes. Zane buys her emerald earbobs and tells her never to wear blue.

***

Zane knows, deep down, that Thaddeus should never have died, and certainly his older and much more sensible brother had been groomed to take over the estate from infancy. It certainly had given Zane a great deal more freedom in his youth, to play with the local children and be content with a probable future in the army. As a boy, it is a happy life to romp about with toy swords and teach the giggling blonde hellion from the neighbouring estate how to play cards. It is also not particularly noteworthy if he befriends the shy, bookish daughter of the local vicar and midwife. Amelia Millbrook, two years his junior, wore her ebony hair in a simple crown braid which glistened blue-black in summer sunshine, and it wouldn’t take much to make her blush. When he was twelve and she was ten, a bouquet of bluebells had done the trick. When he was fifteen and she was thirteen, it had been a stolen kiss. His first, and hers, over a book he’d lent her that she probably had no business reading, but certainly a lad didn’t begrudge the contents of his estate’s library to his favourite girl, and that embroidery business that all girls were supposed to spend their spare time doing seemed dead boring. Her lips had been soft and sweet and she didn’t kiss him back until the second time.

Then only two years later, Thaddeus perished in a coaching accident, and everything went straight to hell. He’d gone to London, with Amelia’s sensible advice– to make the most of himself, to do his family proud, to find his destiny (that undoubtedly would entail marrying a suitable woman from a prominent family as befits a future Earl)– ringing in his ears like a knell and the taste of salt from her lips acrid in his mouth.

Now, at twenty-five, Zane finds himself at the Overton ball, looking over the assemblage with a bored, jaded eye. He goes through the motions and bows over his share of dainty, gloved hands, and then has to right himself as Mariana almost bowls him over in her excitement. She has her colour up and is looking particularly pretty, he thinks dispassionately to himself. Maybe, if he didn’t think of her as a little sister, he should just offer for her and put both of them out of their misery.

“Sin!” She, like the others, calls him that slightly scandalous, abbreviated version of his title. He prefers it, because in his mind, his father, and then his brother, were rightfully Sinclair. “You’ll never guess!”

He manufactures a carefree smirk with the ease of long practice. “What in the world sort of scrape did you get yourself into now, Mari? Do I need to teach you yet another reprehensible yet useful skill? Knife-fighting, perhaps?”

“Oh, stuff it, you. Mama and I paid a call to Lady Bedford– you know, the widow who has been around forever and a day and whom most of the gents are more terrified of than all you young bruisers combined– and do you know, she was actually quite cordial. She has a new companion, you see, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“Probably not,” Zane drawls as he accepts a glass of champagne from a passing footman. “I don’t keep up on the fascinating world of paid companions.”

“You should! You know her. It’s Amelia! Amelia Millbrook, remember her? Our vicar’s daughter, back in Sussex. I think, actually, she might be here at the ball…”

But Mariana trails off, because Zane is gone. Wryly but with a strange feeling of accomplishment, she picks up his abandoned champagne flute, and downs the contents in two short swallows.

#sailor moon #A/Z #senshi/shitennou #fanfiction #fanfic #trashy regency

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wtffundiefamilies · 7 years

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thechibi

Pocahontas would be out I assume. They're very much against any magic. (They state it quite clearly in one of their books) So that actually puts a lot of Disney films in the category of 'can't watch' since so many have some form of magic or supernatural element to them.

I had been thinking “well it might be okay if only the BAD GUY does magic,” like in Sleeping Beauty, but that still eliminates a lot of movies. I forgot about the fairy godmothers in Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella. (I love Disney but I haven’t seen the majority of the princess movies since I was a little kid. Didn’t like them then; no real interest in them now, with a few exceptions. I still love Beauty and the Beast, and The Princess and the Frog really didn’t get enough attention. That’ll happen when you open the same day as Avatar, I guess.)

I hated Pocahontas when it came out (I was not old enough to be able to verbalize the concept of “Well, that ends the fucking Disney renaissance,” but I was feeling it) and haven’t seen it since. What magic takes place in that? I have no real memory of it beyond thinking “Well, THAT sucked.”

redwhirlwind89

Fun fact: Lady and the Tramp ACTUALLY has pre-martial doggy-style! At the end of 'Bella Notte,' you see the two of them waking up draped over each other, then, several scenes later (after the pound scene), you see Lady's two neighbors coming over talking about proposing marriage, and Lady talks about her 'shame.' Watch those parts, seriously, they aren't talking about the pound when she's crying.

...well THAT went right the fuck over my head as a little kid!

redwhirlwind89

And when the puppies come at the end, the human baby, who was born in April, is still too young to be more than nine months old or so, and with the average gestation of puppies being a few months...do the math.

Wow. I guess the Lady IS a tramp.

harkinianmahboi

Probably a "no" on Snow White, since Snow White lives with 7 men out of wedlock... Sleeping Beauty might be a "yes" since Aurora is saved by a man. That seems like the kind of movie Jilly Muffin would have been into as a youngin (she always struck me as the biggest "the biggest aspiration of a woman is to land a prince" believer of all the girls...at least she was until Jinger met Baaaaaaabe)

I know Derick took Dill to see Cinderella onstage so I guess magic is okay on THEIR terms. And I agree, that seems right up her alley in general.

glassslippers-and-tinywhiskers

I actually don't think Cinderella kisses until she's married! But the movies does paint her parental figure as unfair/evil and so Cinderella defies her step-mother to go out DANCING completely unchaperoned. Too much justified rebellion against a parent, also magic. The one princess I remember them meeting in the Disney special is Snow White though.

Disney really fucking hates parents. But I guess they’re the adversaries kids will relate to having. You’re right, though, it does kinda glorify not “honoring” your shitty abusive parents...no way the Duggar parents would let that message through!

nothingelsemakessense

Combine modesty with magic and all of the princess movies are out. I was allowed to watch all of the animal movies you referenced, but most of them weren't really encouraged. Several of them we could watch but only with a parent there to fast-forward through certain things. (I.e. The first time I saw Be Prepared is when we saw the Lion King Broadway tour when I was in middle school.) I would imagine they were a step or two past us so most Disney is likely out.

Because of the Nazi overtones or just generally not wanting kids exposed to evil characters?

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dreamytfw · 7 years

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Let’s Review

I kind of loved the character writing for this episode. Plot was kind of predictable imo, but the characters were super strong and well developed. Specific spoilers under the cut.

Dean and Cas are so married and it is the best thing.

Sam is their marriage counselor and does not get paid enough for that job.

DESTIEL OVERTONES

Sam and Cas are bros. This is all I’ve ever wanted out of life.

Sam is a sassy bitch and I love him so much.

Cas’s vessel used to be a woman (my guess is one of Jimmy’s ancestors considering the similar looks and vessel-ability being passed down through blood lines). I have mixed feelings on this. One, yay for not focusing on genders because angels are, by nature, asexual (as in no goody bits, not necessarily the sexuality. We need a term that distinguishes the biological form and the sexual preference. I digress), and it makes me happy when they get lore right. On the other hand, I feel like it’s kind of a cheap way to set up Destiel. Like, I know conservatives watch the show, but really??

Shouldn’t the other angels have been able to sense the kid wasn’t a nephilim?

Was that the dude from Arrow?

Ishm’s (sp?) a racist dick and I’m so glad he’s dead.

DEAN USED HIS WORDS TO COMMUNICATE HIS FEELINGS!!! HE USED HIS WORDS!! I never dared to dream so big!!!

#SPN #Supernatural #season 12 #12.10 #lily sunder has some regrets #op #meta #I guess #episode review #episode thought

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worthywriting · 7 years

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Not So Swift Taylor

I sit here, attempting to write this article, a bit perplexed. Allow me to explain.. As of this day in 2013, I am currently 23 years old, soon to turn 24 before the year ends, and will be eligible to have my right to a quarter-life-crisis next year once I turn 25. My life journey is a busy one, and seems to always form a lump in my throat that drops down to my stomach as I realize that I have to purchase a larger cake to fit my growing amount f birthday candles. Already I've attended baby showers, weddings, and graduate school graduations all of people who are of, or just a few years around my age. When I go on dates now, I can't help but actually take them seriously, in hopes that it might work out, date for about 2 years, get engaged for 1 year, wait to have children for 2-3 years after marriage, and give birth to all the children I want before 35. These things have to be planned now. I'm not a young girl any longer. – No one looks at me and thinks “sweet, young, innocent girl” and I am thankful that they don't. With this age comes responsibility and a grander level of associating with the world. However, one female in particular is thought of getting by as 'forever young'.

Taylor Swift, the American singer who banks on songs she writes about her ex-boyfriends and being a 'nerdy girl' delights in being thought of as the Madonna of the Madonna/Whore complex. She writes her music that speaks to the tween generation and will pout and call those “mean” who make even the tiniest bit fun of her. She loves being the thought of as that “sweet, young, innocent girl”. Theres only one problem that I have with that. Taylor and I are both the same age. Born in the same year. She is 23, and so am I.

I would love to present on academic journals of well thought out semiotic analysis of Swift's character, whether for the childish way she portrays herself, or against, but as I've searched the internet and book shelves high and low, I could not find one article on 'Swifty'. I'm unsure why her character has yet to be analyzed to a scholarly degree, perhaps she is still seen as too pure, and unfair game.

There was an article, however, that caught my fancy, granting me with a good amount of inspiration. Barbara Read's article, Britney, Beyonce and Me – Primary School Girls' Role Models and Constructions of the 'Popular Girl',is one that takes a truthful look at what it means to be a 'popular girl', any perks that come along with the status and its effect on young females. The article thoroughly explains why young females, as opposed to young males, may feel they need a role model to look up to, and takes a poll among the girls for data of who they admire at their certain age.

Read argues with support of a poll from school children, that most young girls would like to be the 'popular' girl, such as Beyonce or Britney Spears because it seems as if they have power and status which is what females tend to desire even if only subconsciously. This comparatively is what Swift, by way of her “young, innocent girl” demeanor is using to her advantage to tap into the psyche of that girl who idolizes Britney or Beyonce. What Swift is attempting to do is take the stigma of being labeled a “young, innocent girl”, or more frequently as she refers to herself, a 'nerd', and use it as a badge of honor. This is not a horrible idea, and in fact, I say “kudos” to the resistance of accepting the weight that comes with a called name and changing its definition to fit one's self. Where I feel she goes horribly wrong is that after claiming her name, she then goes after the 'popular' girls and makes fun of them for being who they are. She clearly states that there is an obvious paradox between her and the 'popular girl' in her 2009 hit, You Belong with Me.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts/ She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers/ Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find/ That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time/ If you could see that I'm the one who understands you/ Been here all along so why can't you see?/ You belong with me/ You belong with me” (You Belong with Me, Swift 2009).

There's never any mention of how the said 'popular girl' has a bad personality, or may be a gold digger, or has a record of battery and brutality or anything. Swift leaves it up to the listener (and viewer by her music video) to come to the conclusion that because the 'popular girl' does cheerleading, wears skirts and is a favorite among school peers, that she for some reason is the enemy. The character that Swift portrays as the better option is the girl who is in the bleachers because the plays in the school marching band, wears t-shirts, and is lesser known around the school. There is a clear statement that one is better than the other, and that certain traits label the female that choses to take those traits on must abide to and hate her opposite, with no just reasoning, for. Is it that Swift is taking an eye for an eye in hopes of making herself look better than the one who called her the name in the first place? Possibly, yet it seems more that Swift put the 'nerd' label on herself rather than being her own woman. This is a song of hate, attempting to pit female against fellow female in strategy of winning a taken love interest by fighting dirty and hitting below the belt for no good reason.

One might have the argument that at the time You Belong with Me was written, Swift was 19 years old, and thus still being a teenager in her last teenage year, is granted the permission to still write songs as such to get her angst out. Yet, in 2013, as Swift is 23, her single, I Knew You Were Trouble, was released on the public with the same tone of whiney lyrics, giving the impression that she mentally remains a child and feels that the blame game is becoming.

“Once upon a time a few mistakes ago/ I was in your sights, you got me alone/ You found me, you found me, you found me/ I guess you didn't care, and I guess I liked that/ And when I fell hard you took a step back/ Without me, without me, without me” (I Knew You Were Trouble, Swift. 2013)

This is only one of the many songs that Swift has written where she plays the victim. Each time she writes a new song, it is unclear which of the 14 (yes, 14!!) men she has been romantically linked to since 2008 that she is singing about and whenever prompted to reveal who in an interview, she shys away from the question. Many of these love interests lasted for only a month or so, but still get a whole song dedicated to how shes so hurt, or they're mean, or she didn't know.. but what kind of sweet girl dates around so much and then, to add injury to insult, writes bashing songs about them. Not a very wise decision for someone of Swift's fame to do, especially when in the balancing act of wanting to get back at an ex and remain “America's sweetheart”, her balance may be becoming increasingly uneven to her once loyal fans as they begin to notice the many boyfriends and lack of mental growth in romance and the art of handling personal situations.

The image of a sweet, innocent, young, bubbly (and most often times) blonde singer singing songs of sweet love and dreams written down in her diary is one that is meticulously crafted by the big wigs of the entertainment industry, and once the perfect girl is found, the label will be attached to her until by her own demise, she messes it up by being human. This is, I feel, the case for Taylor Swift. Even though Swift is pop, has always been pop and has always had a very pop sound, when she first broke into the world of music back in 2007 with her first single, Teardrops on My Guitar, this girl from the city of Reading, Pennsylvania, was marketed as a 'good ole country girl from Nashville' who was brokenhearted because a boy broke her heart and now the only thing she could do was cry as she strums her guitar out in the country.

That single became a big hit with females who could empathize with Swift and felt that as a good American girl from the country, that the boy who broke her heart must've been a real jerk. But the single when released was in fact released as two singles. One with more of a country twang, and the other with light pop overtones, and since her debut back then, the music she has produced has been overwhelmingly induced with a pop vibe rather than her original market of country, yet she still is thought of as a country artist and is often nominated every year for the Country Music Awards. From time to time she might wear a pair of sparkly country boots on stage at one of her concerts and pretend to play guitar, but as far as being country goes, thats about it for her.

The more dominant pop stars of the 10's new millennium are wildly unafraid. Stars like Rihanna and Lady Gaga frequently forget their pants in favor of wearing a bedazzled pair of underwear on stage instead. Marijuana is the drug of choice that they without shame will publicly toke up. The world of pop music is dominated by females in their early 20s who are not afraid to show skin, sing songs filled with innuendo and move in a sexual nature. These females aren't thought of as young, innocent girls; they're fantasized as musical sex objects. So, with the perspective of how pop stars generally behave/dress/present themselves, it does make sense that to introduce a new pop star, but with a lighter, sweeter image, the music industry will attempt to sneak one in, faintly disguised as country music. Swift doesn't prance around in the latest fashion bikini, or flip off the paparazzi as they snap her photo, for she aims the keep her role of childlike innocence. But the problem is that Swift is a child no longer, and is only looking more pathetic with age. And attempting to keep up with the image, though growing older each day, might end up blowing up in her face by way of her fans not buying the role any more, as was the case that Melanie Lowe explains in her article, Colliding Feminism: Britney Spears, “Tweens and the Politics of Reception”.

Lowe's article is a study she conducted where in 1999, at the peak of American pop's wave, she surveyed the thoughts, comments and reactions to the most popular pop stars, with the most famous being Britney Spears, the happy blonde from Kentwood, Louisiana. She explains that as soon as she sat down with these “tween” (ages 10-12) girls and merely asked of their opinion on the pop princess that they had a wide variety of opinions ranging from waning admiration to most notably the calling Spears a “slore” (slut and whore). These reasons seemed to stem from Spears's progressively changing wardrobe from t-shirts and fashion-friendly cargo pants to belly baring crop tops and ripped jeans. Not only was it the fashion, but the way in which her songs were becoming more blatant of its innuendo. The tweens said of how they liked that she had and exercised her right to wear what she wanted, yet at the same time they found her promiscuous for doing so. The classic case of being dammed if you do, or dammed if you don't.

While I do feel that Britney Spears's path, one where she was initially and continuously marketed as an innocent, young but sexy pop princess, may have been a tad different from the road Taylor Swift is going down, I still feel that the reaction by the tweens and general public will be the same. As of lately, more and more fans of Swifts are beginning to take off their rose colored glasses they'd been disillusioned with and are starting to recognize Swift's stagnant ways in which shes not growing with her fans, but more trying to recruit whichever age is currently in their tween years.

Swift is not a nice, country girl. She never has been, but for a while she put up an almost believable front. There are only so many girls she can point the finger at before the ladies ban together and realize who the true mean girl is. There are only so many guys she can date before the public sees her as the common link and figures out that she is the problem. There are only so many times she can sing her hit single '22' until she realizes she's 44. It's past time to grow up, Taylor.. either join the real world, or save up enough money to purchase the Neverland Ranch.

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blanchemonjuvent-blog · 7 years

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Week 3 (Academic Week 15)

Tuesday, January 31st 2017

Our third week of rehearsals began with Melissa’s feedback and advice. She enjoyed listening to our three monologues; however, she underlined the fact that Nayantara’s text, which is about passion and the ecstasy of falling in love, doesn’t really fit with the two other pieces of writing. It is not the same topic. A solution would then be to find two other monologues that could intertwine with 9’s and to save the two others for another part of the performance.

As for my performance, Melissa felt confused about the focus. Indeed, it is about three boys whom I met during a party and who are soon attracted to me. I may then find three members of the audience and keep an eye contact with every of them, each time I mention one of the three male characters. Melissa added that my text shall be shorter.

Furthermore, if we all share our stories at the same time, we should do similar things (ex: domestic tasks, or talking directly to the audience, etc…).

Melissa also suggested a scene about the madness/foolishness of love. As for our rough idea about a Bollywood dance in a section on romantic love or clichés, we need to get some structure around our writing.

As the end of this session drew near, Melissa gave us a task: we share our stories while sitting. We still cut each other during our story telling. Nayantara starts, but neither Tendai nor I seem to pay attention to Nayantara. Sometimes I do look at her, but it is very brief. This alternative was very interesting as it gave another dimension and dynamic to this scene. However, Melissa highlighted the importance of being careful with pace: we must share the same kind of energy.

After this meeting full of sound advice, we wrote down a list of the sections we would like to put in our performance:

- Ecstasy of love

- Not finding the right love

- Heartbreak

- Sex (empowerment; vagina)

- Getting out of the friend zone

- Unrequited love

- Flings and rebounds

- I’m not too young

- Marriage

- Societal pressures

Our assignment is now to produce pieces of writing for each section, so that we gather enough material which we can build on.

Wednesday, February 1st 2017

We all came to this session with a new monologue. Mine is a paragraph from the novel called Indigo Spell by Richelle Mead. The quote is about the feelings of a woman being kissed by her lover from the first time. I read it out loud, as if it were my own work and experience. My colleagues fell for it, until I revealed the name of the writer. We agreed that using author’s texts within our show is a relevant idea.

10 brought spoken words that fit better in other sections such as heartbreaks or unrequited love.

9’s text was about a friend who always gave her advice and pushed her to find the right love. This monologue corresponds to the section about the inability of finding the right love. Moreover, this text could probably fit with my story about the three boys at the party.

After our talk yesterday, we thought of starting our performance with a Bollywood dance. It would definitely set high energy for what follows!

10 rewrote her very first monologue which is about three boys with whom it didn’t work out. This time she used the 2nd person, a rectification that shows the acknowledgment of her past lover. She tells them/public directly why it couldn’t work.

During this time of rehearsal, we also deliberated about how to link each section to the other. We may use interludes/transitions between all sections which may be based on one common theme: the inability of finding the right one.

Thursday, February 2nd 2017

Unfortunately, we are once more not very lucky with the keys: today there was a problem of organisation at the security, so we lost a bit of time…

This session started in a very cheerful way! Indeed, it was our first Bollywood dance rehearsal! Bollywood perfectly integrates our show theme, as this dance has sexual overtones and refers to desire and sensuality.

Then we had a great discussion about the potential presence of male characters on stage:

1) 10 would like to bring different male performers at different points of the show, each time for a short term only, for dialogues for example. I am not totally convinced by this idea as it would give a face to the protagonists of our stories. 9 also worries about the fact that those men could become props if we don’t use them enough.

2) My idea was therefore to enter ourselves the roles of the men during our stories: it would be more performative and original. Moreover, it would allow to keep the secret regarding the characters’ identity and the audience would freely guess how they would look like. If we perform it well, the spectators would be able to see the male characters via our female bodies.

3) 9 suggested an alternative: In order to bring 10’s text into life, she could take a man from the audience. The implication of someone from the public fits with the subject Unrequited love: indeed, 10 would hug him or take his hand and hold it during the entire recording of a male voice. The embarrassment of the spectator would then remind of 10’s crush who didn’t really care for her.

We adjusted our list of sections, here’s the (definite?) one:

- Ecstasy

- Inability of finding the right love (=> interludes)

- Heartbreak

- Sex

- Flings and rebounds

- Unrequited love

- Marriage

- Societal pressure

Friday, February 3rd and Sunday, February 5th 2017.

First of all, we re-organised our deadlines. Then we learnt the second part of our Bollywood dance. It already looks great! We might all be already on stage at the beginning of the performance, doing different everyday tasks.

We also spent a lot of time on my monologue about Unrequited love called “Two Years”. My idea was to share my story next to a fan, an almanac in my hand. I would replace the pages of the almanac as the story unfolds, so that the fan would “blow the days away”. Yet 10 found this scene too two dimensional and too flat. Also, I entered a delicate persona, which is fine because “delicate and pretty people also experience bad times”. However, her request was to break it through. The explanation of my love is wistful and dainty: I should therefor break this mood halfway through, engage more dynamic and a more precise pace.

9 and 10 thus asked me to shout the whole monologue. It was a delicate exercise as I am quite a silent person and I often forgot to maintain the big voice. Still, this time my performance was more engaging, my anger even made sense in some parts of my story.

I then had another idea for this scene: why not use food, eat until I am stuffed until I am stuffed while sharing my story? 9 and 10 suggested another task: I should improvise a baking show in the kitchen, sharing the recipe of one of my favourite cakes. I have small confidence in my ability to speak correct English spontaneously, so this task quickly became a big challenge for me. Improvising in English is hard for me and I felt very confused. I then decided to try this baking scene once more, this time in French. My diction and my pace were quite better; even if 9 and 10 could not understand everything I said, they confirmed that I seemed to enjoy more my task and therefore I was more eye-catching and interesting. Now I need to trust my English a bit more and to allow myself to make mistakes. My colleagues suggested that if I have any big doubts, I am allowed to use French words: moreover, it may give some originality and good spirit in my talk.

9 and 10 also worked on their monologues about unrequited love:

10 danced with music, surrounded by what looked like male clothes; put some on; she finally threw them with anger on the floor and store some others in a backpack. She then came into the audience and without any words, chose a man from the public. She brought him on stage and took his other hand. A recording of a male’s voice rose while she kept staring at the man. She started dancing again, and finally let go his hand with a disenchanted expression. She took the backpack, gave it roughly to him and begged the spectator to go with a simple wave.

9 did her monologue while running on a treadmill. She pressed the buttons relevantly at different parts of her speech to change the velocity of the treadmill: she got more tired and less trustworthy along with the difficulty of the exercise, until she got exhausted.

Moreover, small texts appeared on a screen behind her as she read her monologue, a sort of conscience objecting her allegations and proclaiming the unwanted truth. Still she didn’t notice the board until the very end, when she finally saw the last word.

See you next week!

Blanche

#lemons or limes #devisingprocess #cpp #contemporary performance

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