The strength to take someone’s hand & look into their eyes, hoping they’ll read your body, feeling the rhythm of a love song they are dancing to. The moment she didn’t pull her hand away/freak out is the moment to take a step and place your lip onto hers. Take a chance. Love is a free falling experience. Hold on and ride.
And really, who could blame Michael Myers, Butcher of Haddonfield, infamous serial killer, for his reaction when the very person whom he had SLOWLY gotten acquianted with throughout the many years of silence in Smith’s Grove, someone who had come and gone, become an uncanny object of obession of his, and then landed a new spot in the DEEPEST pits of his being that none could reach, reached forwards and bumped his own mask clad features against the palid facade of the Shape’s own.
He barely blinked and his breath was heavy, ringing between the space they owned, gaze pointed straight forwards and at the adam’s apple belonging to Gus, watching it bob UP and DOWN with every intake and swallow. The pressure upon his forehead was partially hindered by interior of his own mask, the pasty latex clammy upon greasy skin. If it had been anyone else who dared to enter the radius of him then they would have felt AIR leave them just as quick as it entered them, a lightly burned hand wrapped around their throat and stealing away their breath. While the urge to do it to the burn victim infront of him had been strong ( At first ) when they had just met as mere prepubescent teens, it had vanished into but a thought that MINGLED and FLOWED in the back of his mind.
Pale hands clenched into fists, then relaxed, and for almost a split second it looked like he leaned into the innocent gesture, pressing forehead against forehead in a MUTUAL sign of understanding—and then it was gone, Michael pulling back without further ado, fixing Gus with a stare and a head tilt that many seemed to never quite being able to place correctly—but for those who had grown up and WATCHED him knew it to be but an action of curiousity and mild surprise.
Being touched was never quite something Michael was used to, so when it was willingly done to him and with NO negative emotions put behind them he had to wait and wonder and question. Words would not be released from his throat though, stuck in his esophagus like black bile, but his ACTIONS spoke louder than any word would. A shrug of a shoulder, a finger tapping against a thigh, and the whistling breath as his lungs HEAVED for air in the loudest fashion possible.
Michael tapped his left foot twice on the ground and without any other action but a patient stare and his posture relaxing he slowly stepped BACK into the shadows; back into the place in which he was meant to roam. He still had much to learn.
In Halloween 2 is Laurie having a dream or is her memory just recalling some things from her childhood like a certain trip to Smithsgrove that she quickly forgot about.
I think she’s meant to be recalling a time that she went to Smith’s Grove with her adoptive mother to see Michael, which clearly went poorly. I think it’s interesting, even though we only have this dream sequence to go off of, that while Mr. Strode seemed perfectly nice, Mrs. Strode didn’t seem that great. She’s very abrasive with that “I told you, I’m not your mother, business.”
But again, this could be a combination of memory and dream, but there has to be some element of memory in there for her to recognize the hospital and see Michael’s face. I can buy her repressing or simply forgetting that memory because it clearly occurred when she was very young, probably three or four.
swim deep are generally pretty zzzzzzz for me but look at how cute all of this is. good job as usual grandfather paul. good camera workin harley weir. good job swim deep boys. march away into your tiny kingdom nestled into a starlit grove