Throughout Amadeus, Miloš Forman chooses to strengthen several shots by means of repetition. In this triptych he shows the film’s main characters, at different points, closing the same door. Normally when this is done in filmed narrative, it’s used as little more than a device to motivate an edit or signal a transition between story beats, but as the door shuts Forman has each actor drift to follow the rapidly shrinking frame. The eye is deprived as the angle of view approaches a vanishing point. It is in this deprivation that our focus intensifies, and in the second before the window is gone, we are allowed an almost confessional glimpse of each individual lowering their mask.
“Lena Luthor, this is getting ridiculous!”
Kara yelled through the door to her girlfriend’s office at L-Corp HQ. She heard
Jess snort behind her.
Okay, she had to
agree. It was rather funny. Lena Luthor, CEO of the multibillion corporation, a
woman who terrified seasoned and hardened businessmen… was hiding in her
office. “Lena! Unlock the door this instance!”
She heard some shuffling right outside the
door and knocked again, more forcefully, but still human-like. “Lena! We’re
going to be late!” She stayed quiet for a moment, listening to all the noises
from the other side. She heard a click of the lock and then quick shuffling. Smiling
and shaking her head, Kara softly opened the door and slipped inside, closing
it behind her just as softly.
Her eyes landed on Lena who, with her
heals off, sat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chin. Lena looked at her
girlfriend with big eyes, shrinking in on herself even more.
With a warm smile, Kara walked over,
seating on the couch by Lena’s side, untangling her from her safe embrace, and
tugging her in on her lap, giving her a much safer, much warmer embrace,
burring her hose in black hair.
They just sat there, because Kara knew
that Lena needed time to tell about what was bothering her.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” The CEO
whispered, gripping Kara’s shirt tighter.
“Who? Eliza?” The blonde had to chuckle at
that. “Lena, this is not true, trust me! She’s going to love you!”
“Are you sure?” Lena mumbled, small and vulnerable
and so – so – scared.
“Of course, I’m sure.” Kara placed a
lingering kiss on Lena’s temple. “Trust me?”
The two left the office hand in hand, with
Lena asking Jess to free her weekend and then go home as well. They drove to Kara’s
apartment and Lena told her driver to go home to his family as well, because
she was staying at Kara’s.
And she was proven once again that she
could trust her girlfriend, because when she introduced herself to Eliza, she
was met with a warm smile and a warm long hug. And then was led to a table,
where Alex and Maggie were waiting for them with smiles.
“Finally! We were starving here!” Maggie
She was sat to Eliza’s right, when Maggie
was by the woman’s right, with the Danvers sisters opposite of them.
“Now, Lena, tell me,” Eliza turned to Lena,
“how my bubbling mess of a daughter managed to land a beautiful girl as
Kara groaned and buried her face in her
hands. Alex leaned back in her chair, sipping wine while hiding a smug grin behind
the glass. The dinner promised to be fun.
You’re hungry. It’s two A.M, and you find yourself at a gas station for snacks. Sighing, you’re wings droop and you grasp the bag tighter.
Energy, buzzing, overwhelming energy. To you’re right, a middle-aged, average man with an unkempt beard and a pajama set on. He’s the only one there, and he’s perusing the snack aisle mere feet away from you.
He notices you soon as well, eyes hovering on the ‘empty’ space connected to you’re shoulder blades. He rolls his eyes.
You shrink back a little. You can sense the power radiating from him.
’ Hello ’ he greets you, voice forced.
You nod, gulping. Not caring how improper, you hurried out of the store, pushing past the entity.
How strange, how startling.
His fingers slowly grazed her cheek, one by one, until his soft hands cupped her face. She didn’t flinch at his touch, didn’t blush anymore. Didn’t shrink beneath his searching eyes. Those days were over. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so so sorry.” What he didn’t say was why he was sorry, but it had happened before and it would happen again. His apologies were as pointless as putting on sunscreen after your skin turned a violet shade of red - a weak attempt at protection when the damage was done. Extinguishing the fire after you had been burned. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “I know I shouldn’t be touching you.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have been that quick to cut me off,” she replied, swatting his hands away. “Perhaps you should stop leading me on. When you said we were over, we weren’t over in a permanent way. Not for you. You’ve been trying to keep me around by getting my hopes up every time we met. And I’ve never been the one to leave. But I am now.” The hands that had been pressed against her cheek mere seconds ago were now clenched into fists, shaking with anger. “Why?”
“Because I’m done protecting myself when it’s too late. Sometimes you have to walk away before it ends badly.”
[for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, harold is a small owl]
One brown feather has veered - to the best of John’s observation - two milimeters off its supposed location, and Harold irritably tries to restore it to its proper place with increasingly aggressive beak strokes.
“Let me?” John suggests when Harold stops, the feather still crooked.
Harold stares at him, pupils shrinking in his orange eyes. Finally he hoots once softly. Once is for “yes”.
John runs his fingers along the feather gently. His fingers sink deeper into Harold’s plumage than he expected them to: the fluff-to-body ratio is significantly more than John assumed.
Sooner than John would have liked, the feather is in place. John withdraws his hand, and Harold darts forward, nibbling at John’s finger. John spreads his hands. “Hey, got it. Hands off.”
Harold pecks him again, slightly less carefully this time.
John processes this, re-runs his memory of the recent minutes. Recalls Harold’s eyelids drooping, just a little. Hesitantly, he says, “You want more?”
One hoot. John gives him another moment - to hoot again, to change his mind, whatever. He gives in when Harold starts looking impatient. Can’t get himself pecked to death while Harold is more avian than usual.
Harold’s eyes slip shut as John rakes tender fingers through his chest feathers, Harold’s short curved beak turned upwards. Harold edges forward, ducking under John’s hand until it’s petting at the top of his head, then fluffs his wings, seeming very pleased.
“All right,” John says, a long way from unhappy himself. “All right.”
Harold likes variety. He moves when he gets bored, directing John to scritch down his back, and towards his chest again, and on his sides with his wings spread to allow John access, and once more to the top of his head. Finally he gives John a decisive nibble.
“That it?” John says.
He shouldn’t be sorry to receive a single hoot in response. His hand was starting to cramp anyway.
Defining Physical Features- - Two tears in her right ear - Pupil-less blue eyes - Her mouth and tongue are a dark shade of blue while her gums are the same bright blue as the lightest shade in her eyes - Thin frame, rather fragile - Dark eye bags - Fully black/dark grey fur - She mutates only when extremely upset or aggravated. When she does, her mutations and effects of them include her growing extra eyes, elongating tongue and jaw which tears her cheeks, unusual and uncontrollable behavior, heavy nose bleeds and bleeding from the mouth, tiny holes appearing in face and hands and her ‘real’ eyes can shrink into small circles.
Backstory- Phantom is the result of the infamous scientific experiment known as 'Anonymous’ Followers’, where a team of biologists and other scientists of the like joined together under extremely strict confidentiality agreements in order to create a hybrid species which allowed normal animals the physical and mental abilities of that of a 'normal’ human being. The intention was to create an army of the mutants to fight in the final war in the human age, World War 6, the war between humans and rogue machines, when the remaining human soldiers were dying out and recruitments were low. Phantom is one of the “failed” experiments, whose mental and/or physical states weren’t up to the high expectations set by the anonymous scientists, therefore, weren’t ready for war. So, she was left, like the others, in “No-Man’s Land”, which is a large, radioactive area containing numerous abandoned cities and towns. The only inhabitants of this land are the failed mutants and deadly robotic inventions that turned against their creators and humankind alike. So, Phantom was eventually left for dead until she was found by Silvergear, another failed mutant bearing mechanical wings made by her and with a love for flight. These two became very close friends as they kept each other safe for weeks. Much to their delight, they found more of their kind and decided to form a tight group. Safety in numbers, afterall. Phantom’s mentality didn’t suffice for soldier duties as she has a slight difficulty learning certain things, how to fight being one of them. Her habit of hallucinating resulted in her creators diagnosing her with mild schizophrenia. This, combined with her fragile body deemed her clearly not fit for war.
Despite this, Phantom is a kind-hearted character with a fear of hurting loved ones and even strangers. Her specialty is in visual art and her “all-over-the-place” mind makes her one of the most creative and imaginative of her friends. She is definitely one of the few shy ones and often relies on others to help her when needed. Her shyness makes her more quiet and her apparently emotionless face makes her one mysterious but not entirely threatening creature. Phantom finds it difficult to speak up for herself due to her fear of being judged in a negative manner and even physically punished, however, when she gets too fed up she can have minor outbursts, which can result in her mutating.
So, she pretty much represents me (like a “fursona” or whatever the cool kids call it). But as a failed mutant feline thing.
Seungkwan pulled his sassy expression. The one he used when in defense. “Yes, I was looking at you wondering how your face got that ugly while you’re eating. Shouldn’t you have a better face? How did you become the so-called most handsome member? Eat normally with a normal face.”
Vernon smiled at his boyfriend, eyes shrinking slightly. “I’m sorry,” he grinned. “I’ll do my best to be more handsome for your eyes.”
“What are you even saying? This guy…”
Vernon leaned in a little more. “You don’t have to act this way you know. We’re home alone. You don’t have to impress anybody.”
“Anyone. Any time. Any place.” Damon finished off his victim, showing superiority towards the stranger, dark blood smeared across his face as he spoke. The vampire smirked.
“Well, then,” he started, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I joined the fun,” he said, snapping his fingers and you came walking towards him. He compelled you.
His fangs hovered above your neck, and you quivered under his hot, venomous breath. Damon’s eyes sunk back to normal, the red, rooted veins under his eyes shrinking as he developed a surprised, concerned expression.