“I know when she is very tired and irritable, and she knows the same about me. We have a great respect for the fine line the other is walking all the time.”
They are walking that fine line now, near midnight, at a creepy downtown high-rise construction site. Chilly and damp, Duchovny and Anderson are exhausted but show virtually no signs of the usual Hollywood afflictions: no need for hand-holding by assistants, no entourage, no preening between takes, no temper tantrums. They don’t even seem to understand that they are, in fact, stars.
From a distance, the low-slung, sprawling soundstages of North Vancouver’s Lions Gate Studios resemble compact aircraft hangars. On closer inspection, the studio reveals its true face: a community within a community, where the children of sound technicians, dolly grips and cameramen play together on a grassy field, surrounded by picnic tables and light stands.
David Duchovny is playing a game of pickup basketball in the parking lot with several X-Files crew members. His dog, a border collie-terrier cross, barks noisily in the background and chases a loose ball.
Shortly before 7 p.m., the impromptu game is called and the players return to film the final scenes of the day.
Sorry in advance to VSC, this is just such a beautiful song, I had to post it! (Thank you Slacker Radio for releasing this in advance.) Behold, the song from the famous Chicago Med promo, and from the Facebook Year In Review video!!! It has only been edited slightly edited to give a very almost unnoticeable fade in at the very beginning. Other than that, untouched. You’re welcome guys!
Lost Frames: Vancouver to Austin A couple years some friends and I drove a shitty Honda Odyssey from Vancouver to Austin Texas. That’s been documented extensively on this blog. Recently though I developed a forgotten roll of film that consisted partially of shots from that trip, taken with an Olympus Trip 35.
“I had a very good feeling that this show would be successful. But I don’t think it’s really even hit me yet. Once in a while I’ll be driving down the street in Canada and think, ‘I’m in Canada. How did I get here?’”
A/N: So it’s a Valentine’s Day double whammy! (Kind of ironic for someone who finds it ridiculous but hey-ho). Ever since I was a kid I was always fascinated about the idea of being hit by cupid’s arrow so I decided to do my own crazy 2017 spin on it. This is pretty much all fluff but does involve some light drug usage. I was also inspired by the above picture (from the Vancouver riots a few years ago) and quote (Astrophil and Stella, always). Enjoy!
Your phone had been sat idly on your desk most of the day as
you mooched around the house. It was your day off from work and you didn’t feel
like doing much else as you slowly made your way through your long list of
Suddenly your phone vibrated loudly against the wood of the
desk. The sound was offensive to the quiet hum of your apartment and caused you
to jump slightly. You quickly snatched up your phone to check the message,
immediately feeling a small rush of adrenaline. It was your best friend.
Get your ass downtown
now! Anti-Trump march T minus 20 minutes!!
You took a deep breath. Were you really going to do this? It
could be dangerous, but you felt like you had to. You quickly dressed into
something warmer for the February weather and left the house in the rush. You
texted your friend on your way to tell her you were in transit. She was already
at the march.
Find me when you get
here. It’s big!
She wasn’t wrong, you weren’t even downtown yet and already
throngs of protesters crowded the streets. Many of them carried signs, some of
them even adorned outfits. Within 10 minutes you’d seen a dozen sad lady
You friend shared her location with you (thank god for
Apple) and you began to weave your way through the crowd, your eyes mostly
glued to your phone as you attempted to navigate yourself. You bumped into a
few people before you looked up and realised the crowd was a lot more densely
packed than you’d first imagined. The atmosphere was absolutely electric, the
people moved like the swell of an angry storm, and as you made your way towards
the centre the shouts only grew more violent.
As you made your way further in you began to chant with the
others. ‘He will not divide us!’ You all roared in unison and you felt your
heart soar at the fact people were resisting. That they were making a stand. A
huge sign towered over you which read THIS
PUSSY GRABS BACK. You smiled. But that was the exact moment things began to
You couldn’t pin point the moment that started it. But you
all of a sudden you were thrown off your feet as the crowd suddenly opened up
in the middle and became panicked. You heard the sound of glass breaking and
suddenly felt something warm near you left. The glow that you could see
reflected off the faces around you suggested that fire had somehow made an
You managed to force yourself to your feet, narrowly
avoiding being trodden on as you attempted to get your bearings. You could now
see that riot police had stormed the square that you and the rest of the
protestors were squashed into. It looked like absolute chaos as chestnut riot
horses reared and whinnied at the crowd. Riot police bore the brunt of glass
bottles and other projectiles as they held their thick plastic shields tight
You knew it was time to make a move, friend or no friend as
you tried to make your way out of the crowd. People were so densely packed it
was almost impossible to move as you were thrown in different directions. You
fought to stay upright – getting oxygen was your priority as held your ground.
You noticed how your face was suddenly soaked with a sharp blast of freezing
water and wondered how it could get any worse.
Amidst the confusion in your periphery, you spotted a dark
shape on the floor with another looming over them. You stood on your tip toes
over the crowd and craned your neck for a view when you realised the figure on
the floor was being beaten. By an officer with a baton.
You couldn’t truly explain the feeling but seeing that
ignited a deep anger within you. In truth, you didn’t know a single thing about
the man being beaten on the floor. He could be the worst person on the planet for
all you knew but it was an unfair fight and the sight of this man cowering to
protect his head as he was beaten time and time again set you off running.
You dodged and struggled your way to the edge of the crowd,
it was an exhausting effort but you were determined. Finally you broke free
from the crowd and your feet pounded heavily against the concrete and you
sprinted towards them.
‘Hey!’ You shouted, hoping to distract the cop long enough
to reach them. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you as he continued his
assault. As you approached the two of them you raised your hand in hopes you
could drag the cop away from his victim.
Suddenly you felt a blinding pain in your side and all of
the air immediately knocked out of you. You couldn’t even scream as you were
knocked to the floor, the sound lodging itself in your throat as you tried to
register what was happening.
I’ve been shot. Holy
fuck. This is it. Shit. Fuck.
The winded sensation continued – it felt as though someone
had stamped on your ribs as you clutched your side. Distantly in the back of
your mind you were aware that there was no blood seeping through your fingers,
no slippery warm sensation. Maybe you were already dead.
‘Oh…my god. Fall back, that was not a safe distance. Repeat.
Not a safe distance.’ You could hear the office talking nervously into his
radio but it sounded miles away. The beaten man was hovering above you now, one
of his eyes swelled shut from the impact of the baton.
‘Holy shit.’ He mumbled quietly and you were surprised by
the deepness of his voice. He removed his black hoodie and delicately placed it
under your head. You noticed that his teeth were clamped down on his split lip
and he shook slightly as he moved you.
‘Just breathe. Slowly.’
You gritted your teeth as you tried to breathe, pain flaring
up in your side every time you tried. The man winced at your raspy breath, his
gaze roaming over you but his body staying stock still.
‘I think your ribs may be broken.’
‘Oh god.’ You moaned in pain. The words had rarely left your
lips when the man was tackled onto the floor right next to you by a whole gang
of police officers. His head was roughly thrust against the concrete as he was
cuffed but he kept his large eyes fixed on you. He looked positively terrified.
A few moments later you were being hauled to your feet (despite your yelps on
pain in protest) and led towards an ambulance. You looked over your shoulder
but the mystery man was nowhere to be seen but his hoodie had ended up clutched
in your grip.
The next few hours passed in a blur of artificial lights and
pain medication. A chest x-ray and a diagnosis of minor internal bleeding with
heavy bruising on your ribs later and you were free to go. Apparently rubber
bullets do more damage than you’d realised and will definitely make you think that
you are dying for a few moments. But your unfortunate incident had meant that
the police had decided to drop any charges against you in favour for all of
this to be swept under the rug which you were more than happy to comply with.
You decided to take a long, steady walk home after you left
the hospital. The stuffy air of the subway was too much for your sensitive
chest right now and you wanted to see the carnage that had been left behind by
the earlier events of the day. The mystery man who had helped you was still
planted firmly in your mind and you subconsciously wandered towards the closest
police station with the small hope you might come across him.
You waited across the street for almost an hour wondering
about what to do when you finally saw a familiar face exiting the station. You
raced across the road, narrowly avoiding a car as you made your way towards
him. The man nearly jumped out of his skin, his eyes bulging out when you
‘Hey it’s me. From earlier. You remember?’ You asked,
studying the man’s blank stare.
‘I do.’ He replied carefully after a few moments of
thoughts. On instinct you stuck a hand out to shake but he didn’t take it.
‘Did they release you then?’
‘Of course. I didn’t do anything wrong.’ The man replied
‘I didn’t think you had I just-‘
‘They mistook me for someone else and thought I was making
petrol bombs. But those aren’t really my thing.’ You grinned because you weren’t
sure if the man was joking but eventually he broke into a small smile.
‘I’m Y/N. I just wanted to say thank you for earlier. For
The man looked uncomfortable, staring down at the pavement
as he spoke. ‘I should be thanking you. You got yourself really hurt. I’m
Elliot by the way.’
You removed your outstretched hand and held it by your head
in a mock form of solidarity. ‘It was the right thing to do, even if I wasn’t expecting
to be shot.’ You offered Elliot a small smile at that which he returned in the
form of a half grimace.
Elliot’s gaze travelled down to his hoodie which you were
still holding tightly onto. ‘Oh god sorry – I almost forgot!’ You thrust the
hoodie towards him and Elliot went to take it but hesitated as he watched your
‘Keep it on for now. It’s cold.’ He mumbled and you tried to
ignore the fact he was only wearing a small grey t-shirt.
‘I wanted to say thanks anyway so do you want to grab a
pizza or something?’ You could feel yourself babbling a little as you spoke
which was stupid because this wasn’t a date. The man was devastatingly handsome
but it was not a date.
‘I dunno it’s like…’ Elliot trailed off and looked around,
clearly looking for an excuse. You felt your stomach drop but gave him an
understanding smile nonetheless.
‘No it’s fine really! I thought it might come off weird so-‘
You paused when you noticed the pink and red hues coming from the shops around
you and felt yourself matching the colours with your embarrassment.
‘Holy shit I totally forgot what day it is - I’m so sorry.’
You rambled as you shook your head, taking a few steps back from Elliot in what
you hoped to be a hasty escape. ‘Because asking a stranger out on Valentine’s
Day is not totally weird at all.’
Elliot gave a half smile at that, looking at the
paraphernalia around him like he’d only just seen it for the first time.
‘It’s fine I just don’t like being outside that much. We
could – we could smoke a bowl or something at mine if you want. Like, if you
feel safe and all.’ It was Elliot’s turn to ramble this time and you had to
stop your face from splitting into a grin. The two of you weren’t so different.
‘That sounds divine.’ You replied and Elliot nodded shyly.
A few hours later and you’d grown well accustomed to the
soft fabrics of Elliot’s sofa as you lay sprawled out still wearing his hoodie,
staring hazily at the ceiling above you. An impressively large bong lay
discarded on the table beside you as Elliot reclined at the opposite end,
happily ignoring the fact that your legs were tangled together and too high to
In truth, each drag was just about agony on your chest but
you didn’t care. You carefully hauled yourself upright, holding back a groan of
pain as you watched Elliot’s baked expression opposite you.
‘What are you staring at?’ Elliot asked lazily, his pupils
blown wide as his fingers idly played with the cuffs of your jeans.
‘You.’ You replied quietly, moving forwards slowly until you
were almost straddling Elliot whilst still maintaining a little distance. You’d
worked out within 10 minutes of meeting the guy that he was not a fan of
physical contact. Elliot watched you the whole time, his long slender fingers
reach out to grab your wrist slightly as he coaxed you towards him.
‘Can I kiss you?’ You asked barely above a whisper and
Elliot gave nothing but that dumb half-smile he does in response and swiftly
pressed his full lips against yours. They were soft and tasted faintly of weed
which made him all the more intoxicating. You kissed slowly for a while, your
overstimulated senses not allowing you to move much further. When you finally
parted, Elliot looked the most peaceful you had seen him since your rather
‘So how was your day?’ He asked and there was a slight
teasing to his tone, mixing ridiculousness and domesticity.
‘Well I rallied against a dictator, got shot and met a guy
so I’d say all in all, not too bad.’ You replied in a rush, just wanting to
kiss Elliot again already. Fortunately, he did not deny you.
Up with it again, he’s on the ice with Iginla. Crosby scores! Sidney Crosby! The golden goal! And Canada, has a once in a lifetime Olympic gold! These golden games, have their crowning moment. And why wouldn’t it be Sidney Crosby?