After Magnus dies, Merle and Taako make a point of meeting and
having a drink every now and then. They are long-lived creatures, both of them,
and it’s easy to let years or even decades pass between times, but sooner or
later one of them always seeks the other out. Usually it’s Taako, still the
itinerant one after all these years, who turns up on Merle’s doorstep one day.
He hams it up, maybe, and pretends like maybe Merle’s gone senile and forgotten
him, or he just stands there with his lazy grin.
Merle is aging well, but he’s
aging. It’s obvious in the lines of his face, the way he sits down a little
stiffly now. Taako looks as young as ever, but if it’s because of his natural
longevity or his glamors, Merle can never tell. They go out together, to
Chesney’s Bar & Grill, usually, or some other bar when they’re elsewhere,
though it’s getting rarer and rarer for Merle to travel. They sit together and
shoot the shit; Taako drinks a Bloody Mary and complains about it, and Merle
sips on the traditional Piña Colada of the beach dwarves, with an umbrella in
They always pick a
table with three chairs, but pretend like it’s coincidence that they do; it’s a
sentimental gesture so banal they’re both embarrassed to acknowledge it. But
later, after a few drinks, when the conversation trails off, Taako lifts his
glass and tilts it towards the empty chair and says with no trace of irony
in his voice, “Well, cheers, big guy,” and Merle looks into his drink and says,
“Yeah,” and he toasts the air as well.
Im going through the reigns of Roman Emperors and jfc it’s either “rule: ~20 years in relative peace” or “rule: 3 months and 2 days. Stabbed to death by praetorian guard”, there’s practically no middle ground.
In this month of pride, let me give a shoutout to all my LGBTQIA+ people who have changed how they identify over the years. To the people still trying to figure out their identity, even if they thought they found one that fit.
You’re no less part of the community if you first identified as a lesbian, but now ID as a straight trans man. You’re not any less if you first identified as bi, but now consider yourself gay. You’re not any less if you identified as a binary trans person but now have a nonbinary identity.
Don’t let anyone convince you that you had to have known you were a certain way since you were a child to be valid. Don’t let anyone convince you that because your label could change in the future, you aren’t welcome. Don’t let anyone convince you that you must identify a certain way.
We’re all growing and learning about ourselves and maybe what fits today won’t fit a decade from now, but that’s okay. You’re not a bad person for not immediately having perfect knowledge of yourself. You’re not a fake because your identity has changed.
The legendary Théâtre du Grand Guignol in Paris’ Quartier Pigalle. It was a serious theatrical enterprise that put on gruesome, faux-blood-splattered shows year-round for decades, the Grand Guignol featured staged killings, mutilations and scenes of torture so realistic that audience members often fled the theater in terror.
The owner, Oscar Metenier was a frequent target of censorship for having the audacity to depict a milieu which had never before appeared on stage: that of vagrants, street kids, prostitutes, criminals and for allowing those characters to express themselves in their own language.
At the Grand Guignol, patrons would see five or six plays, all in a style that attempted to be brutally true to the theatre’s naturalistic ideals. The plays were in a variety of styles, but the most popular and best known were the horror plays, featuring a distinctly bleak worldview as well as bloody climaxes. These plays often explored the altered states, like insanity, hypnosis, or panic, under which uncontrolled horror could happen. To heighten the effect, the horror plays were often alternated with comedies.
Some examples of plots are the following:
Le Laboratoire des Hallucinations, by André de Lorde: When a doctor finds his wife’s lover in his operating room, he performs a graphic brain surgery, rendering the adulterer a hallucinating semi-zombie. Now insane, the lover/patient hammers a chisel into the doctor’s brain.
Un Crime dans une Maison de Fous, by André de Lorde: Two hags in an insane asylum use scissors to blind a pretty, young fellow inmate out of jealousy
L'Horrible Passion, by André de Lorde: A nanny strangles the children in her care.
Le Baiser dans la Nuit, by Maurice Level: A young woman visits the man whose face she horribly disfigured with acid, where he obtains his revenge
So then, what is your opinion on the Actor for Elliot saying that Elliot used to be apart of a Star Gate team from the Stargate: SG1 series?
I love it. LOVE IT. It fixes literally the only flaw that I actually cared about in the show.
The thing that made my eye twitch a little bit in the first couple of seasons of Leverage was the hacking - the ‘I know he’s a Super Genius, but the hardware for what he’s doing with that flip phone literally cannot do what they’re doing’.
But if it’s in the Stargate universe, then of course some of that advanced tech has slipped unnoticed into the private sector. Boom! Suspension of disbelief now fully back in play.
(SG:1 was my main obsession for years - including a decade of playing in and running a Stargate online game (OCs). It was before I’d gotten back into any kind of online fandom, mind you, so I didn’t do fic, but nevertheless! My screen-correct gate team jacket - the style Daniel’s wearing in the top gif - is still my favourite piece of cosplay ever.)
crow is clicking at us, can you hear it? The wind is so strong, the
bird is practically hovering. They say time moves faster for corvids.
Years and decades are seconds and minutes to the black bird. That’s why
they click, to see if they can match our clocks. It’s true! Shame it
should be hovering, it must be so confused. Motionless and untethered by
time. Don’t worry for the crow, in mere moments it’ll all pass. In mere
moments this will just be one of many clicks had while hovering.
Imagine Loki is your college professor. You both secretly have feelings for one another but never act on it or tell one another. You finish your undergrad, and he happily writes you a recommendation letter for graduate school. He wishes you luck and you leave for your post grad.
10 years later you return to the town your alma mater is in for a wedding, and there you see Loki for the first time in a decade. All the feelings you ever had come rushing back. At the reception, he asks you to dance. While swaying you chat and tell him that you’ve accepted a professor position at the University he works at. He admits he’s always fancied you. On the dance floor, you share a kiss, a kiss you’ve waited a decade for.