Danielle’s costumes!!

tannertan36

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
taylor price
hello vonnie
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Janaina Medeiros
Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap


oozey mess
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
will byers stan first human second
AnasAbdin
noise dept.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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seen from Malaysia
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@brewalone
Danielle’s costumes!!

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bat out of hell: director cut’s trailer • & blue
and the last thing i see is my heart still beating (still beating) i’m breaking out of my body and flying away
if your muse has trust & abandonment issues clap your hands
STRAT.
He’s been terrified, ever since Lebi told him. Terrified of what the cure means for them all, convinced by his deep-seated distrust of those administering it (whether it is real or not) that the primary thing it will achieve is dividing the Lost - placing those who crave it in opposition with those who don’t feel they stand to gain anything from beginning to age again. It probably doesn’t take a genius to figure out which side of that particular fence Strat is firmly standing on, but that doesn’t mean he can’t understand the other perspective.
That’s really what he’s the most afraid of, though. He’s afraid for his friends, afraid of how much hope this will have ignited in so many of them. He is afraid of losing them, and of how many ways he could lose them thanks to this.
And now he’s here, in the building that stands as a towering monument to everything they’ve fought against and everything that’s happened to them, that now houses so many of their number. One he’d been aching to find a way into, not so long ago; the boy who once snuck through the windows of Falco Towers now stands outside the doors of one of its rooms, hesitating.
His relationship with Zahara has been complicated to say the least, and they’ve been so many things to one another. But he has unwaveringly adored her for so long, and losing her would be more devastating than he’s capable of putting into words.
Finally finding the nerve that once seemed to be such an intrinsic part of him, he lifts a hand to knock on the door - but then changes his mind just as his knuckles are about to come into contact with the wood and pushes it open instead, peeking around it.
“Zahara?”
SHE HAS FELT THE weight of the world on her shoulders for quite some time now. zahara has adjusted to this newfound position of power, if one dared to call it that, and strat’s DISAPPEARANCE that granted her the role. for the past few months, it has been routine for her to feel like the overall fate of the lost was on her. she figures that after months of serving as one of the TELEPHONE LINES between the lost and the falcos, this is her vacation. what a stressful rest it is.
ZAHARA IS AWARE THAT she’s one of the lucky ones. she practically had a job while lost, leaving her future in a better hands than most of the others. she has the skills and tenacity to kick it in the corpse of a society that is their island. the cure was a much SIMPLER decision for her. this is why she felt the need to go first, to be their, as blake had put it, test subject. it wasn’t an inaccurate claim, but it didn’t ease her nerves any. overall, it is the lost that she’s looking out for above her own self, and she sincerely believes that aging is their best option. if all of them ( or the MAJORITY of them ) chose a path that would allow them to develop in a developing world, they would still be able to stick together. obsidian was thrown on its head the second strat and gibson had decided to place their affections where they were not allowed. things were changing, and she wasn’t about to let them get left behind.
TO SETTLE IN THEIR roll as the oppressed, the feared would have been the easy thing to do. if she had just opted out of the cure, she wouldn’t be stuck in bed now. though not a SHELL of her former self, zahara is in no way ready to throw on her boots and strut. every muscle in her body aches, and her eyes are heavy with fatigue. she feels her stomach beginning to betray her - a sign that after twenty five years, it may finally be that TIME OF THE MONTH again. laying there, she attempts to see it as a positive. the cure is working. the cure will work for her family.
UNTIL THE DOOR CREAKS open, zahara is alone, having sent bowman off to check on others so she can meet with strat uninterrupted. his voice nearly REVITALIZES her, especially since the first melody she hears roll of his tongue is her name. it is then that she has to mentally halt herself - the days of him giving her butterflies are LONG gone now. never before did she think they would be in a situation like this, lights dimmed as she lays ill in a falco towers bed across from him. still, zahara manages to boil things down to the simple fact that she is unbearably happy to see him. it has been much too long.
❝ strat - ❞ she whispers, praying that he isn’t an ILLUSION her medicine has caused her to dream up. she blinks, and after a second or two, he is still there. that mop of hair is much too wild to be FAKE. ❝ you came. ❞

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STRAT.
It’s almost funny, how so many of them have fallen into playing specific roles within their group - whether that’s as simple as being the ones who are still cracking jokes, or it’s something bigger like the role Zahara has taken up. While she’s not the only one of them with medical expertise, she is arguably the most qualified and organised of them all. It’s no single trait of hers that makes her so invaluable, though, it’s… Everything about her.
It’s not just the group she’s invaluable to either - it’s him. Among so many other things, she’s rational where he’s impulsive, considering her actions where he would run headfirst into a situation (and into trouble, most likely), and he knows she’s tempered his response to things on more than one occasion already whether she’s intended to or not. Running alongside that is the almost unspoken acknowledgement that they each know the other has chosen to be one of the strong ones, to protect the others in their own ways, and the understanding that they’ll achieve that better as a team, of sorts, than as individuals.
He’s a little in awe of her, truth be told.
Strat doesn’t need prompting more than once to sit beside her. When he does, he’s close - his shoulder brushing against hers as he settles into place - and there’s a bright (if tired) smile there for her when he replies. “Then thanks for not saying it.”
When she leans back he shifts his own position a little, angling himself more towards her, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees as he steeples his hands so that he can rest his head against them - turned in her direction, of course, so that he can watch her.
Unlike her, it’s not unusual for him to be up half the night (or simply to still be up when the early risers make their presence known in the mornings). That’s nothing new for him, really, but rather than killing nights hiding in whatever 24-hour fast food place he can find that won’t kick him out, now he tends to spend the time learning his way around the place they’re not quite calling home yet - or sitting with one of the others when they find sleep evading them. He’s not exactly upset that Zahara is the one he’s sitting up with, tonight.
“I should be asking you the same question.” Absolutely not an answer, he knows - and he knows she probably won’t let him off with not giving her one, either.
SHE HAS TO ACCEPT that she is prone to taking charge in situations like this. she is a plan maker, a logical thinker, and a stable VOICE to heed when the going gets rough. when the explosions ransacked their party, the party she had gone to so she could escape her methodical thinking for one night, zahara expected that she would be the one to step up and REGROUP the ragtag group of survivors. maybe she had helped with that, as no one person could do that on their own, but she had also severely UNDERESTIMATED a certain blonde haired boy in the process.
STRAT IS NOTHING LIKE the boy she initially had him pinned for. upon first meeting him some time before that wretched night, zahara ( or zephyrine, at the time. ) has to admit that she didn’t think much of him. he was just another boy, another addition to their friend group, and one she would hold conversations with when she wanted to RUN her mouth. but, just as zahara is different from zephyrine, strat is different from james. if anyone else had fallen into the leadership role, she doubts she would have been as WILLING to drop back into the part she has now made her own. something about him is compelling. no one who knows him now can dispute that. and there’s an extra layer of magnetism to him that can move mountains, the TALLEST one being her.
( not even the explosion had rocked her as much as the POTENTIAL she saw in him. )
HE HAS BECOME MORE to her than she had ever expected. zephyrine was never one to dwell on her love life. at that time, when her biggest worry was what college she would be attending, she saw the trouble of DATING to be completely irrelevant. she would MUCH rather have a straight a transcript than a boyfriend, especially one that would hold her back when it came to reaching her goals. and yet, she has found ZAHARA to be somewhat of a flirt. even subconsciously.
THE THOUGHT OF HAVING actual feelings for someone after all this time is enough to make her stomach lurch. day after day, she keeps it casual, her mind coming up with scenarios to ENTERTAIN her with throughout the day. maybe zahara has a slight crush, or maybe she just has a worthwhile distraction.
❝ but i asked you first. ❞ she immediately retorts. though fatigue hasn’t completely vanished from her face, a newfound smirk sits upon her lips, her eyes near shut but open enough to subtly glance over at him. he wasn’t getting off the hook THAT easily. ❝ you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but i’ve been told i’m a very good listener ❞
Hard feelings - lorde
im a nice person but im about to start throwing rocks at people
STRAT.
Truthfully, he’s not really sure how he’s ended up as their leader, not with her around.
If you asked him, he’d swear that with all of her steadiness and determination, Zahara could probably tell someone to do just about anything and they’d comply without question. She’s the sort of person you trust instinctively, and you keep trusting her; she’s as fierce as she is gentle, witty and sharp and beautiful - like the blueprint for a heroine in one of his mother’s stories. And with all of that in mind, she may well offer one of the clearest examples of just how devastating the consequences of their unexpected fate are.
Maybe it’s that line of thinking that means he’s been keeping an eye on her (as surreptitiously as possible, because he’s not entirely sure that’s something she’ll appreciate). It’s easy to pay attention to those who’re wearing their grief and trauma and anger for the world to see, and it’s easier to know how to try and help them. But he worries about the ones who seem to be coping better just as much, in part because he too is learning what it’s like to tread the paper thin line between pushing your own feelings aside so as to better care for others, and trying to come to terms with things for your own sake.
He watches as her profile becomes obscured by shadows and half-hidden by her hair when she turns her hair, searching what he can see of her expression as though it’ll give him a clue as to what she needs to hear right now. She might be strong, but even now she’s still only human.
“Well, at least your first instinct wasn’t to call me a hypocrite,” His half-smile is rueful, but it’s there all the same. “Or if it was, at least that’s not the response you went with.”
WHEN THINGS GROW TO seem hopeless, which can be a sometimes - daily occurance, she tends to remind herself that she is an essential piece in the puzzle that makes up the lost. yes, she is aware of this even on her good days, but a REMINDER never hurts. she is rarely seen too far from strat, as he’s grown on her more and more each day since she’s met him, or the supplies she’s managed to salvage to keep her makeshift medical bay in business. zahara knows that she has the respect, the loyalty, of nearly EVERY member of the lost. she considers this a greater feat than any title. they need her, and she needs them
SHE OFTEN WALKS ATOP the line that separates business and pleasure. while she was able to find a happy medium between the two when she had a schedule for school and a dependable pantry always stocked with food, she finds it incredibly hard now to decide when to be SERIOUS and when to indulge in those of them who are sillier in light of the circumstances. ( her guess is the ones who joke know no other way to cope. ) this is why when the night rolls around, zahara indulges in being tired. when they all find themselves planted across the deep end in various packs after a long day, there isn’t as much pressure to be anything but TIRED. now, if only she could rest.
MOST NIGHTS, SHE’S EARLY to sleep and early to rise. this sleep pattern remains one of the things she has carried with her into being lost. zahara knows he has to rest as well, but as their conversation is proving, that’s a fear much easier SAID than done. with a small chuckle, she scoots to the side, patting the spot next to her for him to sit. she won’t mind losing sleep if this is how she spends her time.
❝ it was on the TIP of my tongue. ❞ zahara jokes. after a moment of silence, she rests back on her palms, legs stuck out unceremoniously in front of her. ❝ is there anything in particular keeping you up, or ? ❞

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Danielle Steers and Wayne Robinson perform “Dead Ringer For Love” in Bat Out Of Hell: The Musical!
I can’t describe how much fun it is to watch this being performed on stage - especially from the front row. There’s so much energy and so much bisexual lighting. :P
The addition of having the live band on stage in the Dominion run really adds something to it, as does Danielle and Wayne’s own unique vocal quirks and tweaks to the song! They make it their own, and leave Meat Loaf and Cher in the dust, amazing as the original was!
I’ve never met a strong person with an easy past.
Unknown (via wnq-anonymous)
* SINNERBEFORE.
He’s still not quite used to calling her Zahara - but then, in the grand scheme of ‘things they’ve all got to get used to now’, he figures adapting to his friends’ new names is pretty much at the bottom of the list. Everyone is still brittle, still stumbling through what their lives have become and trying to find… Anything to cling to that makes even the tiniest bit of sense.
That goes for the ones of them who’re trying to hold it together for everyone else, too. Maybe it’s because he was the first one to make that choice, but in the quiet moments it’s easy for him to notice when the strong ones are having trouble hiding what they’re feeling.
He’ll claim that he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like, to try going home afterwards - but then, he’d severed ties with his family days before the party, so he knows his situation was different to hers. If he dwells on this for too long (if he’s honest), he starts thinking about his mother - never his father, never David; just her. He wonders what she’d say, if he went back to her now, and then… Then he’ll throw himself at any other thought, because he can’t think about that. Not on top of everything else.
But he can focus on the others. He can focus on Zahara when he finds her sitting alone, when he can tell what expression she’s wearing even in the near-darkness of their surroundings. He sits down beside her without waiting for invitation of acknowledgement.
“Get some sleep.” It’ll be a while yet before this boyish earnestness becomes a rare thing, so if there’s concern audible in his words, or visible in his features, it’s sincere.
SHE HAS DECIDED TO be one of the strong ones. not that the rest of them haven’t earned that title just by surviving the explosions, but to let things slip in between her fingers now would be a goddamn tragedy. all her life, she has always been in some form of CONTROL. from a very young age, zephyrine akenzua had a strict idea of who she wanted to be and how she would achieve her goals. to say the least, being caught in the tunnels was a setback, but that didn’t mean she had to give up ALL of who she was. had she shed her birthname ? yes, but that drive to succeed and heal stayed intact within her.
STILL, NO MATTER HER decisions, no matter who their circumstances force her to become, she will always be her mother’s daughter. she will always carry imani’s determination, along with the happiness she felt when her father would come home after a long day of work. no EXPLOSION, no matter how massive, could wipe those memories away. that’s what ultimately makes it so hard for her to settle now. the fact that somewhere, her parents are asleep without her in the room over, and that she never returned her advanced placement anatomy and physiology textbook she PROMISED to hand back in.
AND NOW THEY’VE ALL been left as sitting ducks. the muffled sobs and moans of companions new and old keep her awake, and keep her so CLOSE to the ground that she grows aware of strat’s presence before he even enters her line of sight.
❝ don’t you think i’ve tried ? ❞ she chuckles, turning her head back towards the ground.
TAG DUMP !
I’m looking for anonymous and fleeting satisfaction. I wanna tell my daddy I’ve been missing in action!

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I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right and you’re wrong
Cities are built from ruins. I think people are too.
Midnight Excerpts #24 // L.H.Z (via losthunt)