#>> be less distracted from surviving cult hell what else is there?

[slimyenemy]

yeah you when a glitchy traumatized person you found being tortured in a glitch eternal trauma maze is too glitchy and traumatized for you especially if you glitch it and traumatize it some more

[electricbluebutterflies]

Soft babes, 32

I live for post-canon Chris/Melissa relationship dev so... this is that. PG-ish.

the way you said “I love you”... in a way I can’t return

If nothing else, Melissa has a Type. Few things have survived the past few years – the storm that was her discovery that human beings aren’t the only species relevant to her life, and the quiet acclimation that continues – but her thirty-year track record remains. She knows what she likes in a man, and equally what she’s drawn to even though it never ends well. Communication issues, a violent streak, too stubborn to fix himself… how could a woman refuse.

She has a type, but this current manifestation is still new and different and challenging and thirty years of predictability did not prepare her for a goddamned thing.

It has been, objectively, six months since she pulled him down for the best emotion-rush kiss of her life and just under two since she admitted it meant something. That is as much of a timeline as she has to work with, as much as she’s getting out of this. Damaged and complicated are not strong enough words, but despite the visible wounds Chris is… surprisingly functional as a human being. Not someone she has to worry about, most of the time. Trying.

They are not anything and they are everything. It’s nice to have someone who feels like an equal partner, who makes space for her and tells her things the kids won’t, who will probably always be hesitant before showing affection. On paper, everything else is fine. The relationship is evolving at a pace that makes Melissa empathize when she drives past a turtle, but that’s such a minor complaint. She is pretty sure she loves who he currently is. She’s just less sure who he was before that.

(She remembers trying to fight him in a parking lot three years ago. She knows he lost everything, and he may have lowkey been in a cult, and she is not sure how to start that conversation but she wants to know. She wants so much.)

“You alright?” he asks.

They’re standing in her kitchen, one of those nights like before she crossed the line, like the important thing is neither of them wants to be alone. It’s been close to a year since the first time this happened and it’s comfortable enough, and even now she can’t take her eyes off him. A polite distance away, trying to take up as little space as possible. Beautiful man. How did she not see the inevitable that first night when he said no to that bottle of wine that had been in her fridge for god-knows-how-long? (How did she not see it three years ago, when the wedding ring on his hand meant less than the gun in it?)

“Distracted,” she replies, not sure where to start or where it ends.

“By…”

“Is it at all weird to you that we haven’t known each other that long? Like, first time I had an actual conversation with you was tied up in a tree-basement and then a whole year passed and my kid was pretty sure you were dead in Mexico and-“

“What do you actually want, Melissa?”

Bad, bad question. See, this is why this here is a bad idea, because this beautiful idiot man does not have the background she does. He has not spent the majority of his life chasing different variations on the same cliché. (She has never met a woman less like herself than the dead wife was, she is sure of it.) But she can’t know, because as far as she’s concerned his life started two years ago and…

“Tell me. What happened before me. Before your life started revolving around running damage control.”

“That’s not…”

“I am trying to figure out how this happened.” She feels fire burning in her now, that desire to pick a fight that she always feels when a relationship is about to go somewhere she can’t salvage. She’s good at this. Hasn’t had to be in a few years, but she is still good. “Why in the hell someone like you looked twice at someone like me, because I am nothing like what you know and-“

“And that’s why.”

For a moment, the world stops. Something is still lost in translation here, but…

“Not just because I’m convenient?” she counters, still feeling defensive and wanting it out of her system.

“Convenient?” he repeats. The word sounds so bitter in his low voice, an anger she hasn’t seen from this version of him she’s starting to wonder if she even knows. “No. Not like that.”

“Then tell me. Please.”

He takes a few deep breaths and fixes his eyes on some spot on the wall behind her. “You being… not what I know, as you put it, is good.”

“That is vague and you-“

“What I know, what I believed in for most of my life, was absolute obedience. The world worked a very specific way, everything in its place, and I had no reason to question that. It was expected that I would be paired to a woman who would compensate for flaws I couldn’t fix on my own, and I was. That was all that mattered. Finding someone who could control me the right way.”

“Was it enough?”

“I am very good at following orders, or at least I was. I don’t…”

“So this is where I fit?” Melissa asks. “First woman who doesn’t ask you to do anything harder than answer simple questions and not screw anyone else?”

“This is where I don’t know anymore. Being cooperative is how I know how to show love, and you don’t ask for…“

There is silence for a few heartbeats, each of them processing. She has so many more questions and at the same time she’s clearly pushed too far, turned this into a confession that is visibly ravaging her partner. The closer she gets, the easier it is to see cracks in his armor and right now he looks like one of those broken Japanese vases they repair with gold. She is not sure she is enough, but-

“Is that what you need?”

“That depends on what you want.”

Melissa makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl, frustrated and impatient. “Yeah, so much for the answering simple questions bit,” she mutters. “I am trying to figure you out and I am trying to be a not-terrible partner and-“

“My instincts and my training are to keep my woman happy, whatever that may mean. Hunter women are trained to be very particular. You are…”

“Not used to being involved with someone who isn’t a complete cockroach,” she finishes before he can find some more affectionate way of pointing out that she has no standards. “I get it. I am as far from high-maintenance as it is possible to get while still being female, and if that is too much for you-“

“I want to take care of you.”

From any other man, that would be a nice sentence of red flags and Melissa has not survived this long by acting like a bull. If she were standing opposite anyone else she’s ever wanted, or at least anyone she’s dated since the dust of her first marriage settled, she would tell them to get the hell out and she would make sure they did not come back. But faults and eccentricities and past trauma be damned, Chris is at least an easy man to trust. If he wanted anything compromising from her, he would’ve tried to take it from her by now, and he has done no such thing. She knows, and is more sure now that she has some concept of the background behind it, that he’s not exactly suggesting some caged-bird kept-woman nightmare here.

She’s just not sure how much she’s comfortable with, really.

“I’m not a housepet,” she breathes. “I am not… I don’t need much.”

“I know. But what I am is yours. What I have is yours.”

How lucky he is to have ended up here with her. She’s never thought of herself as all that much of a catch – not pretty enough, single mother, too much of a bad-idea magnet – but she can see how this caretaker heart could easily get trampled by the wrong woman. At least she’ll be gentle with it. At least she won’t take advantage.

“And if I can’t ask for anything yet?”

“I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just…”

He looks, as he so often does, like some stray dog that’s spent too many nights out in the rain. It breaks her heart a little, how easily he hurts his own heart. That, she decides, she will not allow.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” she murmurs, stepping closer and reaching for his shaking hands. “I can’t be what you know. Can you live with that?”

“I can learn.”

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 8

Hey guys! So sorry it took a bit longer this time to get a chapter out. As always I love hearing from you guys and every comment and Kudos keeps me going. Realy, your support, no matter how small you think it is, means a lot to me. This chapter is a bit slower, in my opinion, but I hope you all will like it!

Read on AO3 or see Masterpost for more chapters!

Em had decided to drop the investigation into the Geiger counter and focus on more productive investigations. The work schedule and manual from Mead’s closet would bear more fruitful and usable data, but it didn’t mean that moving from it was easy. Something about Stu’s death was off, they all knew it. Em knew about answer lay in that single page of shorthand gibberish.

Now they were in the library... her and Emily at least. Timothy was in a meeting. Langdon had the worst timing... or the best. Depended on what eyes you looked with.

A book sat in her lap, closed after she had read the last page. Dante’s Divine Comedy — she had meant to read it above ground but... well she had meant to do a lot of things. As the days went on the more worry she had over an idea of an afterlife. She was desperate for it and if, as an unbeliever, she was cast to hell, she’d much prefer to have an idea what torture she faced.

Frowning, her hand went to her throbbing leg. Em prayed her sewing skills were enough to mend the wound, small but deep. She had dressed it with some cloth from the towel she had bloodied and tied it in place with a ribbon. Most of the time she could hardly feel it, but one wrong move and she was hissing in pain.

Emily was doing some reading of her own, that of the more productive sort. She understood science much better than Em did and was having a go at the Geiger counter note.

“You know what I hate most about stories?” the brunette mused aloud after staring at the ceiling for a good twenty minutes.

Emily’s eyes didn’t leave her book, “What?”

“The ending.”

Her friend's nose scrunched for a moment before she turned to her, “isn’t that the whole point of reading? To make it to the end?”

“It’s sad,” Em sighed, “isn’t it?”

Em shrugged, watching her friend stare at the sky, “depends on the ending.”

“No... happy or not... it’s sad.”

Emily sighed, closing her book and stashing the note in her corset, “I think you’ve been spending too much time in your own head.”

“So have you,” Em reminded.

“Because I’m trying to figure something out.”

This piqued Em’s interest, eyes glimmering with the excitement of something new as she leaned towards her friend. “A mystery.”

Emily laughed and shook her head at the other woman’s antics, “you make it sound dramatic.”

“We’re some of the last people on earth... everything we do is dramatic as there is nothing to compare it to.”

“You’re eccentric, you know that?”

Em was starving for something new to investigate. Her mind needed a focus or else it would go into the worst places. “What’s the mystery, Miss Holmes?”

Her friend rolled her eyes but quickly turned to business.

“Venable is hiding something.”

“Venable is hiding a great deal of things,” Em noted, “that isn’t something new. So is Langdon, but that’s part of his job description.”

“Why the secrecy, though?”

“Knowledge is power.”

“But what is the truth?” Emily said, “we’ve been here for almost two years and all we’ve found out is when certain Wardens work and decontamination procedures and whatever else is in that manual.”

“Then how do we find out their secret plot?” Em asked, “preferably before we have to put that manual to good use.”

Emily rose from her seat and quickly made sure the library was empty. It wasn’t a particularly large library... about the size of the one at her high-school. She looked down every aisle before coming to sit back down, leaning in close to Em.

“Timothy and I are working one out,”

“Oh?” Em asked, raising an eyebrow.

Emily’s face flushed, “Not like that!”

“Don’t dash the power of a romantic subplot.”

“Did you always speak in poetry or have you finally gone insane?”

“I’ve simply lost my filter,” Em dismisses with a wave of her hand, “this plan of yours?”

“We need you to distract Langdon.”

El laughed, quickly quieting when she realized her friend wasn’t laughing along.

“That man would see right through any attempt.”

“He likes you,” Emily reminded, “why else would he call you to his office so often?”

“Bored cats will catch mice and watch them run around, barely surviving death for hours on end, just for their own amusement.”

“...so Langdon’s a cat.”

“He something far worse.”

Emily sighed, “will you help us or no?”

Em really didn’t want to tell her friend that she would be a hindrance to the investigation due to her injured leg. However, saying that would bring up more questions and she really didn’t want the girl to think she had completely lost her mind. Blackouts were one thing... homicidal urges were something else entirely. And the possibility of them happening at the same time? Not a cocktail she was willing to try.

“Your best bet is to observe his behavior and watch for patterns,” She noted, “find out when he’s distracted. You’re smart, Emily, that’s why you’re here.”

“So you’re not going to help us?”

“I want to live,” Em insisted, “the best I can do is keep silent while you two work. Venable’s already watching me like a hawk and she’d gladly take down all of us if it meant killing me.”

Emily understood her friend’s reluctance. Last time Em had a more hands-on role. She could take action if things went wrong.

“Don’t you want to know?” She asked, grabbing her friend’s hands and squeezing them, “knowledge is power, right?”

Em remembered her vision, Emily and Timothy laying on the floor while foaming at the mouth. Their eyes staring desperately at the sky as if begging god to spare them.

She cursed under her breath and pulled away from Emily’s touch, pinching her nose and sighing.

“Where do you need me to be?”

                                  --------------------------------------------

By the time Timothy arrived Em and Emily had long grown bored of talking plans. In all honesty, the less Em knew of what they were doing the better it was. If she got caught there’d be nothing to pry from her. All that mattered was Em would make a distraction at the right time, pretend to search through his office while Timothy and Emily searched his room.

For now, however, they were content to play Heads Up and pretend the real world didn’t exist.

“Am I a pretty… lady?” Em asked. She was never good at this game.

Emily was sitting in Timothy’s lap, draped over him like a cat with her legs propping up on the armrest of the sofa.

“Would she be?” Timothy asked her.

Emily hummed, “I’m not sure.”

“Let me rephrase it,” Em proposed, turning to Emily, “is she my type?”

“Yes,” Timothy answered a bit too quickly, Emily giving him a look and shaking her head.

“But she has—” he tried to reason.

“But she doesn’t have—” Emily reminded, the pair staring at one another until they burst into laugher. Emily curled into Timothy, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

They were interrupted, as always, by a screeching of the library doors. Laughter halted in their throats, eyes turning towards the sound of feet on carpet as silence overtook the room save the small sizzling of melted wax meeting fire.

Mead appeared from the shadows of the room, arms crossed as she came to stand before them. Her eyes narrowed as she realized two-thirds of them had a piece of paper taped to their heads, something written upon them which she could not see.

She turned to Em with and sighed, “Michael wants to see you.

Not bothering to hide her annoyance, Em rolled her eyes and rose from the armchair.

“Who was I?” She asked the pair.

“Gwyneth Paltrow,” Emily said with a smile.

Em turned to Timothy and gave him a look. Her type? Really?

“Oh, honey,” She said, “bless your heart.”

Emily smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “That’s southern for stupid.”

“You said Pepper Pots could get it!” Timothy exclaimed.

“Pepper Pots is a badass,” Em noted before turning to follow Mead.

“They’re the same person!” Timothy shouted, exasperated as Emily’s laughter echoed through the room. It only stopped when the door closed behind Em, sealing off the pair from the rest of the world.

“You have a—” Mead noted, motioning to Em’s head.

“Oh!”

Em laughed and took the card from her head, staring at it for a moment before turning to Mead.

“Do you mind?” She asked the woman, holding out the card. There were some things she’d like Langdon to not know, small as it may be.

Mead sighed, trying to sound annoyed as she took the paper.

“Half the time I don’t know what to expect with you three.”

“Have to pass the time somehow.”

“Who’s Gwenneth Paltrow?” Mead asked, opening the paper and turning it back and forth in her hand.

“Actress,” Em told her, side eying the paper and trying not to think of the dull ache in her leg, “always on about that crazy new-age stuff that makes no sense.”

Mead shrugged and pocketed the paper, “never was one for all that crap.”

“Me neither,” Em admitted, “only know the name because she got into some crazy cult shit.”

Her companion let out a barking laugh, an infectious smile crawling onto Em’s lip, “so did half of Hollywood.”

The woman showed no hint of suspicion towards Em. Then again, Mead was the type of person who knew how to control her speech and emotions until it was time to strike.

A familiar sound of a cane caught the pair’s attention as they made it up the stairs—  tap-ta-tap, tap-ta-tap. Em looked to Mead, trying to read any emotion on her face. There wasn’t… something that wasn’t much of a surprise.

Venable’s face greeted them as they turned onto one of the many upstairs hallways. Em took some satisfaction in the momentary widening of her eyes as the woman saw them. The expression quickly straightened, lips pursed as Venable tore her eyes from Em and laid them upon her escort.

“Miss Mead,” she said, voice reminding the brunette of when her parents pretended they weren’t at one another’s throats just a moment before they sat down for dinner, “May I have a word.”

Mead’s only response was a subtle nod before she turned to Em, “you know the way.”

Em offered her a friendly smile, making sure it remained on her face as she walked past Venable. Her contempt was so easy to read.

“Have a good day, Miss Mead.”

                                        -------------------------------

Langdon was standing by the fire when Em entered. It felt like he hadn’t moved since their last visit, affixed to the same spot she had left him with his hands behind his back. She took a moment to read the room as she closed the door quietly behind her.

There were no wardens in the room, meaning he probably didn’t see them in Mead’s room and that Venable most likely didn’t inform him of her suspicions. So Venable didn’t trust him… that was revealing.

“Is this another interview?” Em asked as she took a few steps forward. She imagined he already knew she was there, but her words finally forced him to turn and acknowledge her. A smile flickered to his lips as he turned to her.

“This time more of a social call.”

“Oh?” she said, a brow quirking up her forehead and a smirk finding it’s way to her lips, “Is that what you’re telling residents now?”

Langdon glanced to the floor, still smiling as he shook his head. Finally, he gestured to a set of armchairs facing the fire. She rounded them, taking the one on her right. Her hands rested on the back as she waited for Langdon to move.

His eyes were focused on her skirt, eyes slightly narrowed in thought. Her awkward gait was obvious to him, slight as the limp may be. Langdon didn’t note it, simply staring at the woman until she finally sat. Em did so with a sigh, eyes turning to the chess set that sat on a small table between them. It looked like he had been mid-game with someone.

“You play?” she asked as he sat next to her, legs crossing as he turned towards her ever slightly.

“On occasion. You?”

“I used to be good once,” She admitted with a rueful smile, hands going to straighten one of the knights, “but I haven’t played since I was a child.”

This visit felt different from the others. Langdon seemed almost relaxed, leaning back into his chair and hands free of any files. The fire crackled before them, making the world feel a little more quiet than usual.

“Why is that?” he asked. She felt his eyes on her but refused to look at him, occupying herself by fiddling with the pieces.

“My parents weren’t overly fond of spending time with me… though they pretended they did.”

“Perhaps I can reteach you.” Langdon offered.

Finally, Em’s head rose from the chess set. He watched as green eyes flickered between himself and the fire, never quite meeting his gaze.

“I’d like that.”

They set to fixing up the chess pieces, exchanging pieces that lay on the other’s side. He chose the black pieces and she took the white — she’d have to make the first move. Though, that wasn’t surprising when it came to conversations with the man.

“You’ve spoken a lot about your parents,” he noted, “what about the rest of your family.”

“Emotionally abusive father and a codependent mother,” she noted, “are a perfect equation for isolation. One that kept us from reaching out to others and ensured that my siblings would rarely return home.”

“You feared him,” he noted, taking a bishop she held out to him, “your father.”

“Fear,” she corrected, “present tense.”

“But the bombs—”

“Fear is illogical that way,” Em noted, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What was your family like?”

Langdon paused, eyes betraying his amusement as he debated what he said next. A few details wouldn’t hurt.

“I was adopted by a family friend after my grandmother committed suicide.”

She didn’t apologize as most people did. Her eyes said enough. He expected the usual questions, the kind one would encounter in therapy. Em was debating which ones would be appropriate.

“Do you miss her?”

“Which one?”

“Either.”

Langdon sighed and placed his last pawn in place, “someone once told me that nostalgia is much nicer than true memories.”

“smart person,” Em noted, moving her first piece — a knight.

“She was.”

He was quick to counter her move, choosing to move a pawn near the outer edges of the board. The fire crackled as a log snapped in two, settling into the center of the fire with a rippling crack.

“I have to admit your quick thinking is intimidating.”

“Take all the time you need,” he reassured.

Her hands hovered over the board, fingers twitching as she ran through possible outcomes in her head. When she spoke, her voice sounded distant.

“So you can pick at my brain while it’s distracted?”

Langdon chuckled, moving a piece after she moved forward another knight, “Something like that.”

A comfortable silence filled the room as they got into the game, Michael’s movements quick while Em took more time to play out moves in her head.

“Are you sure about that?” he had taunted at some point, a devilish grin on his face. Em paused for only a moment. If she didn’t move the rook to take his bishop he’d have check in two.

“Fuck off, Langdon,” she laughed, moving the piece despite his warning. Her laugh was infectious as he shrugged his shoulders and moved another piece.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Langdon won, naturally. Though Em had a feeling he hadn’t played fair. His smugness filled the room, leaning back in his chair with an air of content at having beaten her. It both annoyed and amused her — like when her brother beat her at Super Smash Bros.

“Another round,” she demanded and he rose a brow, sitting up in his seat. He rose an amused brow and she shook her head. “This time we play checkers.”

“Checkers?”

“I lived in the south,” she reminded, ignoring a stare that displayed how much the man was judging her, “there were Cracker Barrel restaurants on every major exit. One was right across from the college dorms I stayed in.”

“So you’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Don’t worry,” she teased, “perhaps I can teach you.”

He smiled and put the chess pieces away as she pulled the checkers out from the compartment inside the board. She set them out and waited for him to make the first move.

“Can I ask you a few questions?” Em said as she quickly countered his move. He chuckled at the symmetry of her actions and waved his hand for her to proceed.

“Why was this place designed to fail?”

The way his hand hesitated over his piece betrayed his surprise, quickly recovering and completing his move. Her pieces clicked against the board as she countered, waiting for him to respond.

The blond straightened back into the iron mask he wore around the rest of the residents. “What makes you say that?”

Answering questions with questions. That was also a game she knew well.

“This whole place was designed on the tip of a knife,” She explained, balancing a checker on the tip of her finger, “We’re just waiting to lose our balance.”

To emphasize her point she allowed the checker to fall. It clattered on top of the other pieces she had stolen from Langdon.

“And what would you do to make it better?” he posed, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Do you want me to alphabetically or categorically?”

Langdon leaned back with a short barking laugh. He stared at her with what she’d almost consider pride… the cat’s favorite mouse. He waved a hand again, prompting her to continue.

“Whatever is easier.”

The board lay between them, game abandoned in light of a more interesting chain of events. She mirrored his actions, considering which point to bring up first.

“This place was built by the rich, yes?”

He nodded, watching her intently.

“Why the hell would the rich settle for unfulfilling cubes?”

“Those cubes—”

Em cut him off with a sigh, “have all the nutrients we need but not all the calories. An extreme coupon mom would have a greater quantity and quality of rations than we do.”

The blond prepared himself for a long conversation, leaning his head against a hand that was propped up on the armrest of his chair. She stared at him, waiting for a response.

“What else?” he asked with a sigh.

“The Cooperative put in place a NASA-esk water filtration unit, but couldn’t find a way to have a self-sustaining food resource?”

“You make it sound easy,” he noted.

“It is,” She stated, “Scientists already had designs in place before the bombs dropped.”

“This does nothing to prove we intended the worst,” He nearly sang.

“Then why do you claim there is a sanctuary more equipped for this? Why is that not the standard for all the outposts?”

Langdon thought back to his first interaction with the girl. Her first accusation. He should have known she’d be trouble from the start… but perhaps he could use this to his advantage. Leaning forward, he moved another piece across the board.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Em was intent to get to her thesis — the final blow.

“You intended this from the beginning — make people desperate enough to see their true colors then pick them off one by one.”

He chuckled, twirling one of her pieces in his hands and he shook his head and stared into the fire.

“Someone’s done their research.”

“Venable and yourself are the most openly condescending people I’ve ever met… you both think you’re so smart and with this crowd that’s mostly the case.” She said with a scoff.

Em took one of his pieces, then another, “you’re so pleased with yourselves that anyone with a brain can look right through you and see your intentions. No offense.”

“None taken,” he said with a smile, “…Mostly the case?”

“Timothy and Emily were chosen for their genetics. That’s the only good choice The Cooperative has made thus far.”

“Your care for them makes you blind to their faults,” he noted, “no offense.”

“None taken.” Em said, offering a shrug as she collected three more of his pieces, “King me.”

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Langdon lost and as she had expected he did so poorly, immediately challenging her to another game. That meant what she had said had some effect on the man. He sought to cover his fumble with conversation as they began the next round, asking about her observations of Outpost Three’s inner-workings.

Even that conversation came to comfortable silence, Langdon far more intent on this game compared to the last. Em stared at him when he wasn’t looking, too busy playing out moves in his head. His lips would twitch ever slightly when he thought.

“Do you ever feel lonely?” she asked him, playing the question in her head a few times before speaking.

“Lonely?” He echoed, voice distant as he finally moved a piece, “I thought we already had this conversation.”

The brunette sighed and stared at the pieces for a long moment as she ran through what to say next.

“Do you ever have that feeling that something is supposed to be there, but isn’t?”

He also took a moment to think, mouth open for a moment as he chose the right words to say, “I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the emotion.”

“You’re lucky then,” She admitted, “sometimes it’s often claustrophobic in nature… like looking for a friend in a sea of thousands.”

“I thought you said you were content with your own company?” he asked, moving his piece to the other side of the board, “king me.”

“I am, but… I can’t place it. It feels different somehow.”

He looked at her, brows knitted together as he moved another piece, “how so?”

“It’s the same yearning I feel for a sense of purpose,” she said, shaking her head and speaking before she could think. Her eyes were on Langdon, but the man could tell she was looking at something past the physical realm. “But more specific. I yearn for someone or something, but I can’t place it’s… like I’m looking at it through a fog.”

“We all left things behind in the old world,” he noted, giving her his full attention “perhaps you are searching for something you lost.”

She sighed, “but reminiscing on such things is a fruitless task. Nostalgia is only healthy in small doses.”

“Nostalgia can be good.”

“Too much of anything is a bad thing,” Em noted.

“That it is.”

A buzzing in her head made Em focus back on the game before her. The sound of pieces moving made the blond turn back towards her, out of his thoughts and back into the current moment.

“What is it like?” Em asked, changing the subject, “traveling from outpost to outpost?”

“Is that what prompted your question?” he asked, sighing as he forced his mind back on strategy.

“In part.” She admitted.

“I’d call it a time to reflect,” he noted with a sigh, “but it’s hard to think when you’re keeping an eye out for cannibals.”

Em’s gaze turned to the fire, brows bunched together at the bridge of her nose. Venable had been right. She had somewhat hoped the monsters the woman spoke of would be nothing but fear-mongering.

“It’s only been a year and people are already—”

She cut herself off. Biting her lips and shaking her head, she chided herself, “no… that’s not fair of me to say.”

“Law was the only thing keeping humankind from its unlimited cruelty,” Langdon noted, hardly phased as he got yet another piece to the other side of the board. He was a quick learner. “The outcome isn’t that much of a surprise.”

Em was quick to change the subject, “What did you see out there?”

“Nothing pleasant.”

For some reason, he wished to keep the reality from her. Whether out of compassion or a desire to keep her ignorant, she couldn’t quite tell.

“I’d like to know,” she finally insisted, “Venable has only told us so much and we’re forbidden from leaving the premise… even with hazmat suits.”

Langdon nodded. He expected as much from the two women — Venable and Em. Pausing from the game, he gave her his full attention — turning in his chair and resting his elbows on the armrest closer to her.

“The trees are barren and everything is covered in thick green fog,” he said, slow and methodical as if he were trying to recall every last detail, “the animals have gone rabid or are in the very late stages of cancer. You cannot see the sun in the sky… an eternal night.”

“What about the people?”

“Killing each other for food or simply out of paranoia. Cancer and tumors are the norm for most.”

Her arms had come to brace themselves on the arms of her chair, knuckles white and jaw clenched. She stared into the fire but did not see it, darkness clouding her vision as she was sent back into that first day in the outpost. How many of those messages weren’t their last? How many survived only to face torment? How many had she abandoned in the wastelands?

“The children?” she forced herself to ask, forcing herself to look at him. His eyes widened every slightly before he glanced away, conflicted. She watched his chest rise and fall, his eyes close momentarily as he centered himself before speaking.

“On the way here, I came across a woman,” He told her, “A young mother, with two children. They were some of the unlucky ones who were far from the blast radius to survive the fireball, but… not the radiation.”

Em’s mouth opened every slightly in shock as she realized he was crying, a single tear breaking free and racing down his cheek.

He held his hand up, the other hovering over it and tracing up his arm as he continued to recall the incident before resting at his chest, “they were covered in tumors — sores. Their lungs were burned from the toxic air.”

With a clench of his fists, he fell back in his chair and refused to meet her eye, “After a few moments I realized that the child she was carrying in her arms was dead. She was begging for us to murder her other child out of mercy… she didn’t have the strength to do it herself.”

Em didn’t even realize she was crying until he turned to her. She stiffened as he reached out a hand to her cheek, cupping it and brushing away the tear gently with his thumb.

“Did you?” she asked, voice hardly above a whisper and his hand still on her cheek.

Blue eyes refused to look away from her, “Did I what?”

“Have mercy.”

An emotion she had never seen on him before tainted his features. It made his face fall, his eyes shine in a way that wasn’t pleasant and his lips part every slightly. His hand pulled back from hers and he turned away from her, closed himself off.

“No,” he finally answered, “I couldn’t bring myself to.”

Langdon felt regret… shame.

“I doubt anyone could.”

“Why do you cry for them?” he asked.

“I have nieces and nephews,” she said, “friends and—”

A frog sat in her throat keeping her from speaking. She waited a few moments before clearing her throat and drying her eyes, forcing the unpleasant emotion back from whence it came. After a few more breaths of unprompted tears, she spoke again.

“I’m sorry for bringing up a depressing topic.”

“Knowledge is power,” he noted, “and the desire of power is in our nature.”

Langdon cleared his throat as well before turning back to the game. It seemed both of them were content to pretend the last few moments be forgotten… for now, at the very least.

“What would you do to survive?” he asked her, waiting for her to make a move.

She sighed rather loudly. Naturally, he was using interview questions to take back the power he had relinquished for but a moment. Still made her head feel light like she had whiplash.

“What would I want to do?” she asked, moving a piece without much thought. Langdon was keen to take advantage, quickly moving his piece to take over it. “Or what I would actually do?”

He scoffed, “is there a difference?”

“Of course. I’d like to think I’d preserve some of my humanity — morality and the like.”

“But in reality?”

Em opened her mouth and closed it again. What would she do? So far she had certainly become more… adventurous wasn’t quite the right word. Admitting that, however, would be giving him and, in turn, The Cooperative more information than she was willing to part with.

“I don’t know,” she said, “It’s hard to know what you’d do until you are forced to take action.”

“You like to skirt around questions,” he notes, “despite my warning against hedging.”

“You want honest answers,” she reminded, “that required introspection — especially with these questions. It’s rarely linear.”

“How do you react to conflict?” he asked, sounding like he was reading from a list. Em wouldn’t be surprised if he had all the questions memorized at this point.

“What kind of conflict?”

He sighed, trying to be annoyed but failing as a hint of a smile let itself be known, “Your answers tend towards the circumstantial.”

“C’est la vie,” Em said with a shrug, moving a piece and watching Langdon frown as she captured one of his kings.

“It certainly keeps at least one of these conversations interesting.”

Em gave him a look, “is this a conversation?”

“We’re communicating, are we not?”

“You’re asking questions and I’m talking about myself for…”

She glanced at the clock in the corner of the room, “… an hour. Not much of a conversation.”

“Therapists would disagree.”

“You’re my therapist now?

He didn’t look at her, but she could see him smirk, “…of a sort.”

The brunette leaned forward in her chair, regarding him for a moment, “Then what do you see?”

Langdon’s head quirked to the side as he eyed her, “I see a woman who hides her insecurities behind bold and intelligent words… a philosopher without students.”

Em could only laugh, sparing him an amused but unbelieving look, “You give me far too much credit.”

“My records indicate you were quite introverted and withdrawn before,” he noted, “What changed?

“When you stare at death he does not care what mask you ware,” she told him, voice distant as if it was not her own, “so why bother with pretenses and polite society?”

“Why, indeed?”

They finished the game, coming to an impasse with two kings following each other across the board. Langdon rose from his chair and wandered over to the pitcher of water from before.

“You care for some?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He turned to her with a Cheshire grin, “what happened to polite society?”

“Born in the south, remember? We mind our P’s and Q’s and say ‘bless your heart’ instead of ‘go to hell.’”

“I hear it’s quite pleasant this time of year,” he said, turning with two glasses of water.

“Hocus Pocus,” she noted.

“A staple in my house during Halloween,” he noted, a sad smile coming to his lips.

She rose and took a step forward as he approached her, hand extended to take the glass from his hands. A thankful smile turned tense as too much pressure was placed on her bad leg. After sitting for so long, she had forgotten it was there. She leaned back on her good leg and regulated her expression.

Langdon didn’t seem to notice and she pulled back and carefully lowered herself into the chair, waiting for him to move and do the same. Placing the glass on the table beside her, she turned to make a comment about a third and final match only to find him crouched on the ground.

Red coated his fingers, a small puddle on the ground the size of a silver dollar. One of her stitches must have torn. Of all the timing…

“You’re hurt,” he noted, looking up to her, “where?”

“Oh,” she tried to write off, “it’s embarrassing, but I think that’s— “

His eyes were deadly as he stood and stepped towards her, a growl in his throat, “we agreed not to lie.”

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Em lifted up her skirt to reveal the comically small injury that sat three inches above her knee. As she feared, unbinding the bandages revealed the stitching had come undone.

He kneeled down in front of her, hand hovering over the wound. “What happened?”

She tied the bandages around it, resolving to cauterize it later as she knotted the ribbon extra tightly around her leg. Langdon retreated as she threw her skirts over it once more, obviously not wanting to let the incident rest or for her to leave his office without treatment.

“A fucked up side-effect of conditioning.”

Langdon sighed, “this is why I said—”

“I’d be better off acting on my anger?” she snipped, “oh, yes, I remember. You were quite insistent on that point.”

Em averted her eyes, staring past him and into the fire with venom. From the corner of her eye, she could see Langdon sigh, shoulders falling ever slightly.

Her shoulders tensed as she felt a hand upon them, finally turning towards Langdon as she realized he refused to pull away. He wanted to speak, she could tell that from the way his lips pressed together. Why was he speechless? Langdon had a response for everything.

Green eyes couldn’t look away from him— his knitted brow and the frown that marred his features. His hand rose to her cheek and all she could feel was her heart beating in her ears as the heat rising up her neck. His thumb ghosted under her eyes, over the tired circles where tears had been not even thirty minutes before.

This strange and witty woman… why did she have such an effect on him?

Hands curled around the back of her neck as he moved her hair from around her face. The pieces she had pinned back had begun to fall from their confines.

His fingers pulled her forward, thumb hovering under her chin. She felt like she was under a spell, unable to move. Did she want to move? All she could feel was her heart trying to force its way through her chest.

She smelled sweet— lavender and earth overwhelming him in the best way. His eyes flickered between her mouth and her eyes, his neck craning to the side as he felt her breath on his face.

Then, she suddenly tensed. Breaking free of the spell, she pulled back— jumping off the chair and past him to the door. She had let her guard down and… she didn’t know what to feel. The hammering in her heart told her to run, but—

“I’m leaving,” She whispered.

Langdon took a step towards her, a hand outreached. He moved as if he were approaching a wounded animal, slow and tentative.

“The interview isn’t over,” he said, hand coming gently around her wrist.

“Yes,” She growled, realizing something that made her steel herself against him and tear her hand from his grasp, “it is.”

“This could forfeit your place—” he began, cursing himself as he realized how he sounded.

“So be it. I don’t care.”

She tried to open the door and his hand went instinctively to keep it from opening. He needed her to understand. He needed—

“I’m not here to hurt you,” He all but pleaded, “take a seat.”

“…You’re right—” she finally said after a moment. His grip on the door loosened and a smile of relief came to his face, tenseness leaving his body.

The door slammed into his head as she threw it open. With a grunt of pain, he fell back and gripped at his head. When he looked up a satisfied smirk was on her face, the door blocking her body from him like a shield.

“— My anger is best used outward instead of inward.” She said, disappearing back into the hall. By the time he stumbled to the door and threw it open once more she was gone… like she had never been there in the first place.

The thought of that terrified him.

                                       ---------------------------------------

Em was… well, she wanted to pace, but the newly cauterized wound on her leg would have protested too much. So there she was, seething on her bed. Her hands dug into the comforter, pretending it was someone’s throat.

At least this time she had been sure to put away her knife first. Then again, the now blistering skin took care of any destructive and impulsive urges she may have.

She had been blind, the desire for having her life mean something clouding the reality of logic and fact. Langdon wanted her to depend on him. He wanted her to think she was special. Em wasn’t. She was an average person with a tragic childhood. A dime a dozen case.

Coco probably got the same treatment. They were both single and desperate to survive, desperate to be wanted. Langdon weaponized sex.

… But that wasn’t what it was. Not to Em, at least. It was vulnerability, understanding, trusting someone with—

He was playing with their emotions. All their emotions. Part of her was willing to be strung along. Was certainly an easier route.

With a sigh, she hung her head in her hands. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. To live or not to live… wasn’t that the fucking question? She was supposed to graduate this year, get a shitty job with shitty pay, and live in a shitty apartment. It’s why she had sacrificed so much, stayed in a less than happy place in the hopes that one day—  

A knock at the door pulled her from the spiral. Straightening her back and clearing away her misty eyes, Em turned to the door.

“It’s unlocked,” she informed the person on the other side.

“That’s new.”

Emily’s head pocked through the door before she slipped inside, closing the door behind her after checking her six, “You didn’t come to finish our game.”

The bed dipped as she took a seat next to the brunette. Her worry was transparent on her face, lip quirking to the side and eyes focused on Em’s face as she waited for the woman to say something. “We were worried.”

Em could only shake her head, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Though her eyes were focused on the floor, she could feel Emily’s hands cover her own. A familiar squeeze curling around her hand.

“We’ll make it through this,” Emily assured. It did little to convince Em. No matter what the brunette did, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the wrong path.

“And then what?” she couldn’t help but ask, teeth gnashing with every word, “we leave here and play the game somewhere else in some mysterious sanctuary or play Mad Max as we slowly die from cancer?”

For once, Emily didn’t have a retort.

“I can’t live like that anymore!” Em hissed, finally turning towards her companion, “My whole life I’ve lived one day to the next just to say I made it another day. I can’t! I— “

Her companion could only stare at her friend, mouth open but no words. What could she say? Emily hadn’t much thought about what would happen next, the cost of living. It was quite like what doctors faced, wasn’t it? Determining whether quality of life justified the means to the end. What was the future when they faced the end of the world?

Em shook her head, “I just can’t.”

[hqgodspeed]

a few days after valentine’s day, basteon gather’s the demigods together in the banquet hall, his demeanor seems different than normal, as if the tension between his shoulders is becoming less and less—maybe he’s beginning to believe in the demigods, in their capability to combat the evils of this world. 

he clears his throat, arms crossed over his wide chest. “sons of olympus, the time has come to discuss the next trial. we’ve lost one worthy son and gained another. now it’s time to increase those numbers.”

his gaze lingers over each demigod until he stares blankly ahead. “if you believe that you’re ready, step forward and plead your case. let your words sway your companions into action.”

he leaves, then, and demigods begin to stand, one by one, trying to bolster their friends with their words. 

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐌

There’s a silence when the attention turns to the son of Zeus, a careful, stoic expression on his face. In his hand is a heavy, cloth-wrapped object, a symbol. “We’re here again, ready to throw ourselves back in the fire.” He starts, glancing around at the faces of his fellow demigods. “I’ve seen you all survive the flames, emerge stronger, beaten, but better.”

“I’ve faced my own trials too, personal and around the world, both wins and losses.” He pulls the cloth off, revealing the half of Zeus’ shield. “I found this in Greece, and I take it as a sign, one that I have to complete what I’ve started.” He stands tall, back straight. “I’m ready to prove myself.”

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐎

"it has to be me. i think, there's no roundabout, bullshit way of saying it. i've been here the longest, with ari and tristan, and it's time i show you guys what i've learned and the drive i have to do this. i've lost a lot of friends on the way here, and all those times i always thought i should be going faster. i need help. i need my dad's shoes or whatever, because that's going to be the thing to make sure i actually save the next person. so no one dies on my watch again. i'm ready."

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇

Daith stood up and cleared his throat as he looked at his fellow demigods. "I have to admit that I wasn't expecting to propose myself for a trial... I honestly planned to wait until the last possible moment because... It would suck a lot if it turns out I'm incapable of it, and I used to think my mother would be so dissapointed that she'd call the next son on line and put me out of my misery" he said, chuckling for a second before his expression turned more serious. "But... things changed. People changed. We lost people... but we also gained them..." he said, smiling at the others briefly, his hand wrapping around the Necklace of Sacrifice, that he never took off now. "I know I'm not the strongest demigod of the bunch. And Ari will be mad at me, but I also have to admit I'm not the best. I panic. I'm selfish. I'm impulsive. I get easily distracted by cute guys..." he said, smirking, as a lot of his current sources of distraction were present. "But I'm also one of the demigods that had stayed the longest here at camp. I used both my fighting and my abilities to survive. But, most of all, I had the support of all of you. And, if the trials and quests had shown us something is that if we don't face challenges united, we will all fall. So I'm willing to put aside my own fails and shortcomings and battle to be recognized as the worthy son of Aphrodite". He then took a deep breath and looked down, to find Mr. Candle waving another flag with his face, which made him laugh. "I understand if you decide to choose another demigod but... know that I'm ready to do this. And that I believe we can do this together. My mother started wars. But she also joined nations under her cult. Love unites us. And, if we are together... Love can conquer all. Thank you all". Mr. Candle waved the flag excitedly before jumping on Daith's lap, clapping and looking at everyone so they would clap too. Or else.

𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑

"So here's the thing," Asher begins, and instantly he felt like he was going through a stint of Deja vu. "A lot has changed since we voted on our last trial. Mostly, we know that there are forces outside of Eris that are coming for us. Forces with powers none of us really know the limits of. I think from a necessity base, we need my artifact that can combat what they can do. I am the son of Time, my father's powers are a trump card, they have to be. If we can secure that, our possibilities are endless." He looked at each of the other demigods, trying to look them each in the eye, "I'm confident that I'm ready to rock my trial. Not only have I been through our latest one, I have assisted in taking down plenty of enemies, and that's just me at half strength. Imagine what I'm capable of once I have my father's gift? Plus. I mean, my father's trial is in the Palace of Westmincer. It beats the hell out of trekking through some enchanted palace. Make the smart move, and give yourself and the rest of us the power of time to get this right. Vote Jones."

𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑

"attention, losers," ragnor leapt on the stage and faced the others, a flourish to his movements.

perhaps it wasn’t the wisest to begin a speech with such a term—but he hoped it was as endearing as he’d meant it to be. ragnor’s heartbeats were rampant within his chest, but the smile that cut through his face was bright, rehearsed. he needed to be the bronze-haired hero for them today, someone martyr-boned and trustworthy. it was a performance but a seamless one that came with much ease.

perhaps a part of ragnor truly believed he was a hero.

he began, and for once his words poured out raw; no sugar-coat, no honey.

“i am not going to stir idle conversation about how i am the perfect candidate; i am not.” that, he believed. that, he knew. “but,” ragnor’s gaze swept over every face. “i am not the fuckin’ mess from a few months ago, either. no more drunken shenanigans, no more rookie mistakes. these past few quests and the trial have been exhaustin’, but i’ve saved some of your asses with my dancing skills—helped freed kit’s mother from her corruption—held my own against some of those dark aether dip-shits with ari and keaton.” he steeled his jaw then. “what i am saying is, i am strong enough to take on my father dionysus's trial now, i am ready to face his frenzy." he was also ready to confront whatever curse that laid dormant within him; to let his father's madness cut it from the root. "the anklet may not be that remarkable of an artifact but some of you have seen, first hand how powerful a well-timed dance can be in battle.” he let his smirk unfurl then and made a graceful, theatrical bow to signal the end of his speech.

before ragnor left the stage, however, he added: “also, it's in fuckin' vegas, c'mon.”

𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

"second verse, same as the first, am i right guys???? haha but seriously, vote tucker rhee! not only will i put my, like, proverbial pedal to the metal, but i promise that i won't let anyone die without a proper seance. also, cali is like a really great vacation spot and stuff, so i'll be able to take everyone out to expensive dinners and we can, like, go to a yoga retreat or something. cheers!!! xoxo!!!"

𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐘

"look," iggy starts, shrugging, "i know i'm newer than most of you that spoke up already, but just because we're new doesn't mean we're not as important." he pointedly looks at everyone, but lingers on the veterans. "you can look down on us all you want, but we're never going to prove ourselves unless you let us." he grins, cocky and sure of himself. "let me be the first to show you all that we newcomers are just as worthy as the rest of you."

𝐊𝐈𝐓

there's a new sense of confidence that swells in the pit of his stomach. before, there was hesitation to his words, in his being. but too many things have happened since talk of the last trial, his eyes have been opened, his focus recentered. "i'm still not the strongest among us." he starts, looking around at each of the demigods gathered. "but i'm relentless." his fingers rest against the table top of their dining tables, closing his eyes for a moment. "i was relentless in trying to figure out where my mother was, so much so that i nearly killed myself trying to find answers. relentless in setting souls to rest after they were forcefully taken from this world. relentless in my pursuit of knowledge." he pauses, eyes lingering over each and every demigod, making eye contact for a moment before looking to the next.

"i found where my mother was, followed the clues that lead ten of us to samothrace. together, we figured out where my mother was, discovered what eris had turned her into—what she might have turned all our parents into." his expression changes, eyes almost flickering dark as he remembers the embryo, the multi-headed abberation that his mother had become when he let her out of her confinement. "and together, we freed her from that corruption, i was willing to die if it meant that she be restored and i almost did—my magic kept me alive and i destroyed the foulness of whatever was corrupting her heart with the magic that runs in my veins. when we got back here, ari and i restored her back to her rightful home down in the crypts and we felt something—power—that was being restored back to olympus, protective magics." his expression softens now, a smile playing upon his lips as he remembers the tremor, that feeling of power that radiated from ancient runes he could barely understand.

his eyes close as he remembers the feeling of her arms around him, the warmth, that same feeling of belonging he's always longed to feel. "she told me she loved me." his voice quiets down to an almost whisper. "she hugged me and told me she was proud of me." his eyes open, the softness of his expression mirroring the look on his face. "and she told me something else, something that this trial—my trial—is the next step in doing."

he takes a deep breath, a sigh parting his lips. "she told me that when i ascend, we'd be together forever. she believes in me." he looks out now, his expression gentle, but a fire lingers beneath the surface of his eyes, one that burns with determination. "and i hope that the rest of you will, too. i'm ready. i was willing to die in order to help the cause, but now i'm willing to survive and fight until we get our parents back and defeat this darkness once and for all."

he takes a seat, eyes still looking out at each of the demigods until his gaze rests on ragnor, a smile on his face as the nerves begin to settle in. 

[eurosong]

ESC 2018 grand final - my ranking

Hey there, folks. So, I’m in LISBOOOON! I have a few posts upcoming today that I’ve queued, but here is the last big post I’ll actually write before the results tonight - my rundown of the grand final and ranking. I’ve tried to give a positive and negative for each of the songs.

Ukraine (14) + A lively, memorable and gently motivating start to the contest -  How extra can you get with staging? Also, whilst I’ve grown to enjoy the song, it still makes me feel nothing because of its lyrical pot pourri.

Spain (2) + Adorable chemistry, true love and a song with a hint of old school magic. -  Lost some of its gentleness and authenticity with the revamp – and I’m amazed that they added an instrumental crescendo but will do nothing to match it on stage. Slovenia (9) + A song of empowerment and being true to yourself by a strong badass woman that has become an undeniable earworm for me. Hvala da! - Will the staged hitch work as well a second time with a more knowing audience? Lithuania (5) + One of the most genuinely tender and sweet moments of the entire evening, and I love the vulnerability and emotion of Ieva’s voice. - Easily lost between Austria (7) + Extraördinarily rich and warm voice and a quality song that has a great progression between very different verse/bridges and choruses, which compliment each other rather than clash. - I don’t know what is more distracting, the bizarre outfit he’s wearing or the perturbed expressions he’s pulling. Also, that graphic where he appears to transcend is a LOL moment that undermines the seriousness of the song.

Estonia (15) +  Elina has definitely got a voice. -   This song has got little else. The great operatic arie make you feel things; this just makes me feel that the composers wanted to exhibit her voice but the lyrics and emotional journey were afterthoughts.

Norway (26) +  It’s a song encouraging children to believe in themselves and write songs. If they compare what they write with the quality of this song, it’ll give them a lot of self-belief… -  I don’t know how someone so smug became so beloved, and I’ll never understand how juries could potentially reward a song which basically consists of one awful jingle riff repeated over and over and over.

Portugal (8) +  Portugal once again follow their own impulses, bring us something original and imbued with so much meaning and saudade. -  I still find Cláudia’s voice very reedy. United Kingdom (22) +  Surie is a real dame, a great representative of her nation and works like hell to get something out of this song. -  The song itself is a cliché damp squib with painful lyrics and ridiculous sound effects in the background to try to make it less bland. Serbia (13) +  Serbia returns to the final singing in their native language. Hopefully this encourages them to keep on that path and revive their reputation for having great success with Serbian language songs. Also, Balkanika are great people and they’ve served something very different to the typical here. And I love the more traditional vibes from the first minute. -  The shift in instrumentation thereafter is less so. I also can’t help but find a lot of things about the song and performance offputting. Serbia’s answer to Deen and the ladies gravitating around him give me real “shindig at the cult compound” vibes.

Germany (12) +  Germany’s song is a real emotional gut punch, sang well and with sincerity. -  I really don’t like how they got around the no LED screen by bringing one just so that he could perform in front of a glorified lyrics video. It seems like lazy ass staging to me. Also, I could réálly do without the whole oh-eh-oh-eh-ohing.

Albania (1) +  An absolute masterpiece in both music and especially lyrics, makes me emotional no matter how many times I’ve heard it. -  Sadly, I doubt juries will recognise that. France (6) +  This is one of this year’s best examples of the balancing act that is songwriting. They craft a beautiful and impactful song, but one that is simple enough to be widely understood. It will be a high point of human interaction in the evening and a powerful moment. -  It’s a little on the repetitive side. And as a guitar player, I’m always a little distracted by seeing people bobbing about pretending to play.

Czechia (20) +  It is a catchy song and Mikolas seems like a fun person on stage. -  It’s still a song with ghastly misogynistic lyrics, and I’m sort of surprised it got through after an awkward performance in the semis. Is it just me, or did the Czechs pick backing singers who contrast in the most awkward possible way with Mikolas’ voice?

Denmark (19) + The lyrical message is nice. -  It’s seriously one of the most repetitive songs of the whole year, and I hate the whole "doing the chorus three times in a row” schtick. Australia (23) +  The intentions behind the song are nice. -  Sadly, it’s just a wild assortment of clichés, and I’m flabbergasted it got through with a performance that more befitted a drunken aunt at a karaoke.

Finland (18) +  Singing about overcoming demons and finding strength in yourself is something positive in my eyes. (I’m going to that well a number of times, I know.) -  The performance is a hot mess for me, just throwing as many gimmicks and props at the wall as possible and hoping they stick. Also, Monsters really doesn’t show Saara’s voice in the best light, she gets quite screechy. And those demon children who sound like chipmunks take away any feeling of solemnity.

Bulgaria (16) +  It’s a song with a stylishly mysterious and dark score. The lads in the group sing well. -  I find Zhana a huge distraction – positioned as a centrepiece of our attention but barely singing. Also, I find it completely the wrong atmosphere for a song about true love. And the fly-by-night nature of the “common framework” means that the song is lacking sincerity and authenticity for me. Moldova (21) +  They’ve ascended a little from the very depths of my ranking thanks to how likeable they come across on stage and the brilliantly communicative facial expressions they pull, which really bring the slapstick story to life. -  At the end of the day, this isn’t a drama contest and the song itself with its thrusting dirty trumpet blasts and bizarre sound effects is appalling.

Sweden (24) +  They’ve allowed a humble light tube store owner to survive another winter… -   Sweden going back to the same old well of staging quality well above song quality. And can they please send a woman or band again? I’m getting tired of these presumptuous americlones - last year an ersatz Timberlake, this year a Bieber.

Hungary (11) +  Absolutely one of the highlights of Thursday night. I got both chills and visceral thrills from such a candid and passionate performance. -  Still not entirely my cup of tea and a tad repetitive.

Israel (17) +  If this year really is a battle between Cyprus and Israel, then I’m with the latter all the way. Not my style of song but it’s thoughtful and on a pertinent topic. -  Overly memetic, bizarre staging, and I still find it overbearing to listen to. Netherlands (4) +  This is the song that is going to rock my socks off and make me want to dance. Love the message, love the music. -  The cuts to the dancers seem less awkward but the whole idea is incongruous enough to confuse and put off potential voters.

Ireland (10) +  I’ll admit, I felt genuine chills when watching this song and the rapturous applause the two lads got. Eurovision moments like this show us how the world should be. It’s a pleasant song and finally, Ireland is back in the finals. -  I still believe a lot of the hype was generated by the video/stage show rather than the song, and Ryan seems a little opportunistic to me… Cyprus (25) +  Portugal’s pyrotechnicians will have enough money for a very fancy holiday after this performance. -  I can’t believe that this could be the winner. The music is extremely tacky, the lyrics are an afterthought, the use of one random Spanish word is galling (I made my students laugh by singing a song in Spanish and randomly dropping the word “biscuit” in the chorus) and I can’t help but think it’d be a huge step back for the contest. Italy (3) + One of the most moving performances and lyrics of the year – sung with an urgency and an anger that perfectly suits. And Metamoro are absolutely two of the loveliest people to ever participate in the contest and I can’t get enough of them. -  The on-screen lyrics, meant to bring the song’s meaning to life, could actually prove a distraction.

[cromulentbookreview]

Weaponized Jaws

Or: Seafire by Natalie C. Parker!

Action on the seas featuring badass female protagonists? Yeah, I’m definitely going to read that. Very little needed in the way of convincing me to read this book.

Seafire had been advertised before as Fury Road meets Wonder Woman meets the ocean, which makes sense. Though with much less Wonder Woman and way more of Kevin Costner's Waterworld.

Alright, children, gather around while I explain to you what Waterworld was.

Yeah, Waterworld. Not a video game, it was a movie starring Kevin Costner, the world’s only American-accented Robin Hood (hey, I like that movie, Alan Rickman was a treasure and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise). Waterworld came out in 1995 and was massive flop, now a bit of a cult-classic. I remember 1995, somewhat vaguely. God I’m an Old now, aren’t I?

I’ll never be as cool as Steve Buscemi, though.

For those of you who enjoy both Fury Road and Waterworld, then you’ll definitely like Seafire. I love anything that takes place on the ocean - a side effect of my strange Dudes on Boats fixation that I’ve mentioned previously (my apologies to For a Muse of Fire, . Sea stories are kind of my thing. So is post-apocalyptic YA fiction. So this book ticked all the “I need entertainment and want to forget the news exists right now” boxes and worked out perfectly.

Caledonia Styx lives in Crapsack Waterworld, a post-apocalyptic flooded version of our world (referenced occasionally as the “old world”, flooded/destroyed as a result of some unknown calamity). Caledonia has the misfortune to live in an area controlled by Aric Athair, a vicious warlord and sir-not-appearing-in-this-book (since Seafire is the first in a planned trilogy, I’m sure we’ll meet him eventually). Anyway, Athair controls his war boys, called Bullets, by drugging them with something called Silt, made from some sort of weird hybrid poppy-flower-thing. Life in Athair’s territory sucks, so Caledonia’s mom, Rhona, and a bunch of other families have gotten together on the Styx family’s ship, the Ghost, to break through Athair’s blockade and head off to freedom elsewhere.

Unfortunately, the night the Ghost intends to escape, Caledonia and her best friend Pisces (they’re really big on the names from Greco Roman mythology in crapsack Waterworld) are sent ashore to gather some last minute supplies. Caledonia comes across a bullet called Lir, who asks for her help. It’s all bullshit, though - the second Caledonia gives away the location of the Ghost, Lir and his fellow bullets attack, slaughtering Caledonia and Pisces’s families and sinking the Ghost.

Pisces didn’t witness Lir’s treachery, though, and Caledonia, feeling responsible for the deaths of all those onboard the Ghost, keeps that bit where she gave away the position of the ship to herself. That makes sense, considering how guilty it feels, but later, as Caledonia refers to Pisces as her “sister”, the fact that she kept this bit of intel under wraps does become a tad annoying. Especially when Caledonia refuses, multiple times, to clarify why it is she does’t trust Bullets. She’s just like “nope, can’t trust Bullets” instead of “no, that one time I trusted a Bullet, he slaughtered our families.”

Anyway!

Four years after the deaths of their families, Caledonia and Pisces have raised and repaired the Ghost, renaming it the Mors Navis.

(Language nerd sidebar: Mors Navis, by the way, is Latin for Death Ship. Thank you Google translate! No thanks to my 10+ years of German education. Why couldn’t I have picked a Latin language? Noo, I had to go with the Germanics. Mors Navis does sound way more menacing than Totenschiff. Eat it, B. Traven).

Over those four years, Caledonia, acting as captain, and Pisces, her first mate, have collected a crew composed entirely of girls and women, all of whom have no love for Aric Athair and his Bullet army. Caledonia and her crew basically go around the Bullet seas, making life hell for Athair’s people. During one such mission, Pisces is wounded and then captured, only to be rescued and returned to the Mors Navis by a Bullet who claims he wants to escape. Caledonia, who has literally zero reasons to trust Bullets, doesn’t trust him. Pisces points out, reasonably, that he saved her life when he could have left her to die. But Caledonia simply repeats her mantra of “no trusting Bullets” while refusing to elaborate.

Until the Bullet lets it slip that Donnally and Ares, Caledonia and Pisces’s brothers, respectively, survived the massacre on board the Ghost and were pressed into Athair’s drug-addled Bullet army. He knows what ship Donnally and Ares are on, and the route it takes to bring in conscripts (read: children stolen from their families, drugged, and forced into Athair’s army, refusal to comply met with extreme violence, in the usual fashion of a murderous tyrant).

Suddenly, Caledonia has reason to question her strict “don’t trust Bullets” policy. But it’s one of those Meek’s Cutoff situations: the Bullet could be a lying sack of shit and leading the Mors Navis into a trap. Or he could be telling the truth, leading Caledonia and Pisces to their long-lost brothers. What to do?

Well, it’d be a pretty short book if they just shot the Bullet, dumped his body in the ocean and moved on, wouldn’t it?

It took me a little longer to read Seafire than I intended - I’m a slow reader anyway, but while I was reading Seafire, I was also binging on Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastard series (which are fantastic by the way - highly recommend the audiobooks, Michael Page is an amazing audiobook narrator) so my focus may have been just a wee bit divided. My biggest complaint is now we have yet another seafaring heroine with red hair. How come all the seafaring heroines have to have red hair? Also, it’s funny you should bring up red hair, because in the world of the Gentleman Bastards, bad things happen to girls with red hair. Seriously, how come all the fiery heroine types have to have red hair? I mean, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything. I mean, it’s not like I should have been born with red hair, but no, it ended up a dull, boring blonde, and hair dye is expensive and smells terrible...

Uhm.

I mean.

Seriously, though, red hair is a rare thing - if Caledonia’s father had dark hair and her mother had red hair, the most likely outcome would be a bunch of kids with...dark hair. Though if her father did have a recessive red-hair gene, then it’s entirely possible for him to have produced red-headed children... So I guess it’s possible. 

Not that I’m annoyed that my hair didn’t turn out red. Even though it should have, goddamn it! I know those recessive genes are in there somewhere!

Stupid lousy blonde hair grumble grumble grumble...

Ok, back to Seafire - it is definitely a highly enjoyable book, lots of nonstop action, but not a lot of resolution because it’s the first in an intended series. I highly recommend breezing through the book in one go, rather than endlessly picking it up and then putting it down in order to find out whether or not Locke and Jean finally kiss (they don’t). 

But yes, jealousy over fictional characters’ red hair aside, the only major complaint I have about Seafire rests with a single line. The thing about reading ARCs, which I think I’ve mentioned before but, again, nobody reads these, so I might as well: ARCs are not finished copies. The final copy of Seafire might not even feature this line, so it seems silly to complain about it, but complaining is fun so I’ll do it anyway.

So the secondary-boss villain, Lir, Caledonia’s sworn enemy as he killed her whole goddamn family, is described as having a “long face with a jaw that looked sharp enough to be a weapon of its own.”

From that line onward I found I was unable to focus on anything except how a man’s jaw could be sharp enough to constitute a weapon. It’s a question that’s been driving me to distraction for weeks now. Is Lir’s jawline sharp enough that it comes to a point, like a knife? What would that look like on a three-dimensional human person? How would one wield their weaponized jaws? Like a battering ram? Or would you just like, wave your head around like a sword? Does this mean his chin comes to a point, too? That one line of the galley proof of Seafire has caused me more consternation than anything else in the book - and this is a book that features lots of violence. Lots and lots of it. And here I am contemplating a man with a weaponized jawbone. 

I mean, of the whole book it’s one line and it doesn’t even matter but...but...gah, I can’t help but picture a guy with knives for a jaw. 

RECOMMENDED FOR: Fans of badass female protagonists kicking ass on the high seas, fans of YA lit who also happen to be fans of Kevin Costner’s Waterworld.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone who takes physical descriptions of fictional far too literally.

RELEASE DATE: August 28, 2018

RATING: 4/5

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR SEQUEL: Lhotse

OBLIGATORY STYX REFERENCE:

[perfectackeracy]

Shingeki no Kyojin chapter 96 review (+ theories)

On with the pain train!

By pain train I mean Reiner’s life is filled with nothing but hard decisions where he has nothing to lose. The chapter as a whole covers the timeline from aftermath of Marcel’s death to the titan trio’s enrolling in the military and while that chapter was poignant, it was unfortunately the beginning of the descent to hell.

I suspect we’re going for a long series of flashbacks aiming to answers some plot holes here and there while answering questions in Marley in the past. Or at least that we’ll alternate between present time and the flashbacks. Everything is slowly starting to make sense at that point. Why didn’t anybody retrieve Ymir or why the warriors didn’t rush straight to the gates and a very important point, where Annie was by the time Reiner and Bertolt broke the gates.

The content, I think, is a bit less expanded than the content from the previous chapter, but some character finally got some spotlight after a huge lack of focus.

 Follow me under the cut. Thanks to @kaschy for the scans!

The aftermath

The fall of Wall Maria

The settlements’ period

What now?

The aftermath

Why Marcel’s power wasn’t retrieved - Ch. 96

The opening of the chapter was one of the most uncomfortable I had to read. Before Marcel got eaten, the first night went under no big problem. Reiner was spouting Marlean propaganda as usual, Marcel made him a breaking revelation before saving Reiner from Ymir’s grip the next morning.

That’s exactly where I’m starting to feel bad: Reiner’s childhood dream of a nuclear family was already reduced to shreds, the propaganda nobody believed had all he had, and to sugarcoat the whole situation, as Reiner realized was never meant to be chosen, Marcel died saving him.

When he realized that, he was completely devastated, before being kicked by Annie. While Reiner scores lower than his peers in terms of aptitudes, he has a good potential for survival (ahem... chapter 77). The chapter also confirms titans are drawn like magnets to the walls.

We finally know why nobody did anything for Ymir at the moment: Reiner was running away, completely broken by the series of events, Bertolt was following him and tried to stop him and Annie... didn’t do anything because her companions ran away. 

We also got the explanation about why nobody went for Ymir during the day, when she regained conscience at night. Just as Annie suggested the three of them went back, Reiner stopped her and Bertolt, thinking about his mother, not wanting to disappoint her as a mere failure.

Reiner reaching for Bertolt and Annie - Ch. 96

Reiner argued back against that course of action, saying failure equals death, including of course, the three of them. That was the part of the manga where Annie was acting rather cold towards Reiner, looking like she’s deadset in not accepting any objections: “Not that you losing the armor makes any difference to me”. Oh and another interesting fact: Bertolt was capable of mastering the Colossus, the famous god of destruction right away, which implies Bertolt is indeed very skillful.

Showing further Annie was ready not to listen to a single word to Reiner, she implies Reiner was threatening her. Considering she won’t see the point of Reiner’s suggestion about continuing the mission and how he used that trick against Porco in the past, it makes sense.

Then this happens...

Annie beats Reiner up - Ch. 96

And this isn’t a simple beat up between kids: what Annie is ding to Reiner is rather deadly. If Reiner wasn’t a shifter, the bruises would’ve been permanent. As she and her decisions were feeling threatened, she shuts Reiner up by kicking him repeatedly in the head, breaking his jaw and a set of teeth.

Annie shows her true colors since she set foot on that island. Screw the ideologies, she wants to save her own skin and return to her father. Her lines are very poignant considering how Reiner wants to be glorified as a hero, so her mother, but also the others, would recognize him. When Annie gives him a piece of her mind, it’s all coming back right in his face.

Add the death wish and you’ve got a broken Reiner.

So broken, in fact, he’s willing to renounce his identity and role to fit into Marcel’s shoes, so they could continue the mission.

Reiner’s “death” - Ch. 96

That was the most touching panel of the chapter. Reiner was beaten, his childhood ambitions shattered while the shards were pissed on, but he’s still going up. He has to and they can’t go back, even at the cost of his own mind.

It was the first hint of bad tension between the trio that would later resurface after the Marco’s incident. Annie eventually gave up and went along with Reiner’s decision, because in the end, no matter how rough her attitude is, she’s just one of those girls going along with the flow.

Resistance is futile - Ch. 96

The other shocking part was just Bertolt doing nothing when the two started to fight. Instead he just froze when Annie kicked his face over and over again. And when Reiner damaged himself mentally even further, the tears began flowing on his face, completely unable to stand his face’s pain.

Bertolt begging Reiner to stop - Ch. 96

The fall of Wall Maria

That day... - Ch. 96

We’re finally getting a point of view of the warriors’ invasion of Wall Maria and finally a clear point of view of Annie’s involvement.

To my surprise it looks like it’s completely unrelated to the very first SC assault we’ve seen in the manga. The Survey Corps were already inside by the time Annie called that mass of titans. Also the Garrison was apparently slacking because that titan activity surprised nobody. That or they had too much faith in the walls.

In any case, the strategy was already elaborated before entering Marley: Annie gathers the titans, Marcel runs away from them by the time they reach the walls, Bertolt breaks the front gate, Reiner breaks the inner gate. Considering Marcel was missing, the plan was difficult to carry, but it eventually succeeded.

That was close though - Ch. 96

Very very close.

Dina facing Bertolt - Ch. 96

I gotta mention Dina’s behavior though, because there’s definitely a mechanism working behind abnormal titans. No idea if it’s due to a strong will post injection, but she didn’t eat Bertolt, whereas she was chompy-happy with Carla and Grisha. She was also the first titan to enter the walls. I suspect she was mind whiffing Grisha and traced his path. There’s indeed a main reason why she targeted the Yeager house and unconsciously ate anybody trying to get in the way between her and Grisha -or rather Eren-.

Same explanation connecting her and the cult girl kneeling in front of Illse because she looked like Ymir.

Oh and let’s talk about Bertolt’s reaction, because his feelings about kicking a huge wall pondered our brains for a while.

Bertolt facing Wall Maria - Ch. 96

His reaction is interesting. He was prepared before when Marcel told him he couldn’t go back, and they had to murder a bunch of people. In this situation, they’re short on time, and I was distracted by Reiner’s inner thoughts to pay closer attention. Despite Reiner announcing the plan, Bertolt didn’t know whether he could destroy it. Turns out removing the front gate was a piece of cake. 

Bertolt is one of these guys who don’t really trust their abilities but can accomplish miracles with it.

Meanwhile Reiner, just as he broke the front gate, recalled all the misery that happened just before he left. What was an ambition has became an obligation. The more I read it, the more I feel like Reiner’s shackled to that purpose when he left.

“I wanted to become a warrior... because I thought it’d grant my mother’s wish and let us live together with my father. But... I never had a father who felt the same way. My mother was always dreaming of something... that would never come true. I wasn’t ever supposed to become a warrior, and I wasn’t supposed to survive past today... Why did he apologize...? Why did he save someone like me...? No- I don’t wan’t this to end here...“ - Ch. 96

Reiner also feels he must repay Marcel’s sacrifice somehow, and not plunge her mother into deception either. Yet nobody is really forcing him to do these things. When he failed the mission 5 years later and was the sole survivor, Marley gave him an ultimatum. Was pushing the mission that far really necessary?

In the end, what brought the warrior trio together was more the obligation to go back full-handed. After all, they’re all alone, surrounded by enemies from all sides, without adult supervision, which led to fucked up mentalities before they even sign up for Paradis’ army.

The warrior trio hugging it out - Ch. 96

Never going back, always moving forward.

The settlements’ period

Reiner opts for going into the army - Ch. 96

A less agitated period starts for our warriors. We’re starting this section with the famous story Bertolt told Eren and Armin. And not just an approximate version. Bertolt retained the story heart by heart. Obviously, something must’ve triggered him enough to carve it in his mind. 

The hanged man - Ch. 96

Must be tied to his suicide and the fact he was the sole survivor of his village, thus lonely. Jesus Bert, you are so cute yet so sinister.

People are arguing whether Reiner, Bertolt and Annie actually orchestrated his death so they can take the papers, later discovered by Hange. It helps that nobody else knows this settlement. Considering the mental state of this man, suicide is still a viable option. Yet the “three kids the age of RBA” part was a bit too convenient. At that point it would be easy to make this man’s death look like a suicide. 

In the meantime, only Annie went inside the capital, because only women were allowed there. That’s how they learned who the nobles were and that they were indeed not descendants of Ymir, even though that part was obvious. They tend to preserve their status as nobles unlike “slave blood” as stated by the mayor of Stohess. Annie also offers up probably the most light-hearted moment of the chapter.

Prostitution jokes - Ch. 96

Women being only allowed lead up to grim implications, leading Annie to joke about it. And of course Bertolt is completely oblivious to the joke.

Aww don’t say that Annie, I find you pretty cute! Not as cute as Historia...

Ok almost.

Since Reiner can’t count forever on passing Annie to the capital, theor only option is to join the MP and getting close to the King. We also learn that the Tybur family detains the records from the current situation in Paradis. And who got another detail of the vow?

Eren Kruger.

I feel somehow we’re going to have yet another flashback of Kruger’s encounter with the Tybur patriarch somehow. Did they doubt Kruger was an infiltrated revolutionary who detained the Attack Titan? Can Eren reach the Tybur family using Kruger’s memories?

The explanation as to why the warriors haven’t destroyed the walls is because they fear the cry of the Coordinate. Too bad they were unaware of who detained it, which would have advanced things. Especially when their goal was, two years ago...

Right behind them - Ch. 96

Reiner started to regain a purpose in the course of these two years, as he uprooted a dead tree. A symbolism of him renewing himself as he joined the army and as he realized how terrifying the cry can be, shall the king direct an attack on the world.

Reiner’s purpose - Ch. 96

This poetic line has a double-entendre. It serves the initial cause Reiner fought for while serving as a perfect cover for a devoted soldier. “Saving Humanity” in this case means preventing a bunch of coordinated wall titans to stomp on the world. When Keith hears that, he automatically assumes it’s for a world where the titan menace is exterminated. The danger, unfortunately, could cause Reiner to lose himself in the image of the brave soldier protecting the walls. Considering he has adopted Marcel’s traits by now, the temptation to fall in that big brother image with all these weak people looking for someone reliable is way too big. Next chapter might focus on him struggling between the adoration and his main goal.

What now?

We still have to cover events in the present time, as enunciated in the previous reviews: the Tybur festival, the amputee, the Leonharts and the Hoovers, etc...

That chapter however, brought fleshing on the trio and filled some plot holes from previous chapters. As such, I wish for the flashbacks to continue and bring further detail about a couple of things:

Why was Reiner’s spinal fluid in Rod’s bag?

Why were the cult roaming near the trainee grounds? Did they trade Reiner’s serum for information?

Why weren’t they ticked off at their classmate named Ymir?

Why planning Trost just before affectation day?

Was Annie’s separation from Reiner and Bertolt quite harsh?

What happened during the time where Reiner, Bertolt and Ymir were wandering? Did the three of them return to Marley or was it only Ymir for her execution?

Same question for Zeke: while the walls were having a revolution party and a chicken titan on the loose, did he spend 3 months camping with Pieck eating marshmallows?

Why sending Zeke five years later (and Pieck at the same time)?

How did Zeke communicate his spinal fluid to Ragako’s inhabitants?

Was Reiner eventually led to a trial after he finally came back alone?

Every time we spend a chapter under Marley’s point of view, I’m loving this story even more. I wonder how this arc is going to end, but it’s bound to be one of my favorites.

[ghost-rocker]

Tanaka and 2CT

Now that chapter 129 has confirmed 2CT, there’s more for the fandom to solidly ponder.

I have a few questions and ideas concerning Tanaka and 2CT.

1. What We Know about Real!Ciel

He claims to be real!Ciel and most likely is, going along with story hints and 2CT

He was with our!Ciel during his cult enslavement post-Phantomhive Murders.

His whereabouts during the attack on the Manor are not necessarily known

He was most likely killed (or thought to be killed) by the cultists, triggering our!Ciel’s extreme hatred and the summoning of Sebastian (which was paid for by real!Ciel’s soul)

While our!Ciel is more similar to his mother (sickly, possessing a weaker disposition), real!Ciel seems to have Vincent’s personality (charismatic, outgoing)

Our!Ciel admired real!Ciel when they were children (or at least found comfort in him during their enslavement)

He is most likely the “Blue Star” that Blavat is serving and collecting blood for.

Probably attacked Soma/Agni at the Townhouse for reasons currently unknown

He may or may not be some type of Bizarre Doll.

He shows zero signs of decomposition and seems to have memories of his past as well as strategic insight (or at least the ability to command or attempt murders)

2. Tanaka and the Twins

As the former Phantomhive butler, it’s near impossible for Tanaka to have zero knowledge of the other twin. Even further, I believe that Tanaka must know that the master he’s serving is not the real Ciel Phantomhive. 

Tanaka spent years caring for the twins, seeing and serving them every day. 

He most likely spent more time with our!Ciel, who was sickly and thus stuck indoors more than real!Ciel.

He might be closer (or appear closer) to our!Ciel rather than real!Ciel

Tanaka has never referred to our!Ciel as “Ciel.”

The flashback of the murder, in which he says “Ciel, sir,” could be a broken phrase (we don’t know if he’s addressing Ciel or talking about him)

Tanaka refers to our!Ciel as “young master,” not “master.”

It could be a personal preference, an age-related thing, or maybe a hint...

Tanaka is extremely astute

He has excellent observational skills as seen from his adept swordsmanship (like when he sliced a bullet in half)

He didn’t flinch at Sebastian’s death (hinting that he might know the truth about Sebastian’s nature)

He knew that the Red House’s stomach pains were from Sebastian tampering with their food 

3. Tanaka and Real!Ciel

More or less regardless if Tanaka knows about the switch, real!Ciel exists. Where does that leave Tanaka?

Tanaka is a target

Since he sided with our!Ciel, Tanaka could be seen as a traitor by real!Ciel, a label that could lead to his demise

Tanaka is an accomplice

If Tanaka knew about the switch, could he also have found out about real!Ciel and have been working with him?

On the other hand, will real!Ciel attempt to recruit him?

Tanaka is troubled

Real!Ciel doesn’t really care about Tanaka’s existence

Whether or not Tanaka originally knew of the switch, real!Ciel’s appearance is troublesome for our!Ciel and possibly him (Tanaka).

4. Tanaka’s Loyalty

Tanaka serves the Phantomhive Household-- more specifically the house led by Earl Phantomhive. There are currently two contenders-- the rightful heir to the earldom and the acting earl. Tanaka has known both of these boys and can easily confirm who the true earl is. The question is...who will he serve?

Our!Ciel

Tanaka is loyal to our!Ciel, possibly due to “favoritism” or closeness with him (since again, Tanaka and our!Ciel most likely saw a lot of each other due to the latter’s illnesses)

Real!Ciel

Tanaka is loyal to the true heir

Tanaka feigns loyalty to real!Ciel in order to protect or help our!Ciel

5. Interesting Notes about Tanaka

Tanaka has most likely known Undertaker longer than anyone else in the series (depending on when he started working for the Phantomhives)

Tanaka could know something about real!Ciel (where was he during the manor’s attack?)

Toboso-sensei employs traditional characteristics or stereotypes to some of the characters (Bard being loud and loving guns/ explosions/ etc. since he’s American; Soma/Agni being Hindi, owning elephants; Germans being obsessed with cleanliness and being great at science...)

Since Tanaka is Japanese, could he have more knowledge about beings like Shinigami? (During the time period in which Kuroshitsuji occurs, spiritual beliefs and even religion were less prominent in Britain. I believe spiritualism was on the decline in Japan as well, but since Tanaka is older, who knows what he believes...)

6. Questions about Real!Ciel’s Motives

So your twin brother stole your identity. Cool. 

There’s an easy fix to this-- real!Ciel could appear to Frances, Tanaka, or maybe even go to the police to reclaim his identity. All the authorities or others would need to do would be to visit our!Ciel and verify the existence of two Ciels, thus deeming that one is an impostor. Real!Ciel could also provide details about the Phantomhives that would vouch for him before they located his brother.

So why is he part of some complicated plot, probably involving Lizzie? Another question-- weren’t he and our!Ciel close in the past?

For some reason or reasons, real!Ciel is messing with his brother and his brother’s friends rather than taking direct action.

Possible reasons:

Something/someone is preventing him from revealing himself (or revealing the existence of two Ciels)

His survival would surely be questioned-- he would be interrogated about his whereabouts during the manor’s attack through the current time. Does he have something to hide about the manor’s attack? About how the hell he survived the cult (possibly revealing he’s some type of Bizarre Doll)? His true activities in Sphere Music Hall?

Is there some condition preventing him from this? Has his memory been tampered with? Is he under someone’s control?

He wants to make our!Ciel suffer

He’s just really pissed that his weak little brother is pretending to be him and is now out to see our!Ciel break

He’s a sociopath

Loves the drama, craves the power, and enjoys knocking his brother down a peg 

Did our!Ciel do something that contributed to real!Ciel’s murder? Perhaps real!Ciel volunteered to save our!Ciel and he’s pissed about actually dying? Was it possible to save real!Ciel but our!Ciel chose not to or ruined that chance by searching for the ring?

He’s honestly just in it for the drama

Just wants to freak people out, rather than getting his brother into boring, normal legal trouble

He doesn’t want to get our!Ciel in any trouble

So maybe he just wants to enact some fun, kiddish revenge?

He actually cares about our!Ciel but just wants his title back? And maybe a little bit of revenge and scares?

7. My Theories

Tanaka will work with real!Ciel, whether out of loyalty or to assist our!Ciel

Tanaka has been working with real!Ciel and has possibly been spying on our!Ciel for him

It’d honestly be kind of hilarious to see Tanaka emerge as his butler or something

I mean, the room at Sphere Music Hall was wrecked-- maybe Tanaka has some pent-up hostility xD

Real!Ciel will be pissed at Tanaka for siding with our!Ciel (whether the man knew about the switch or not), and will attempt to kill him

One reason real!Ciel might try to kill Tanaka could be to silence him

This goes off the theory that real!Ciel attacked the Manor (or at least killed his parents and attacked Tanaka)

Possible evidence:

Vincent and Rachel appear to have been attacked from the front

Tanaka, though distracted by our!Ciel and vulnerable, was not killed. He easily could have been beheaded but was stabbed in the back for some reason.

Real!Ciel’s whereabouts are technically unknown, but the figure that attacked Tanaka was awfully small...

Real!Ciel’s enslavement along with his brother’s could have been a double-cross or an unrelated incident (the kidnapper(s) happened to appear during the murders)

Real!Ciel is a sociopath

He killed Vincent/Rachel and attacked Tanaka. His brother looked up to him and he pretended to be caring/ strong but honestly didn’t care, or just enjoyed the praise and attention. After somehow surviving the cult, he was pissed to discover that his weak little brother survived and assumed his identity. He wants to put his brother in his place and take everything away from him. Or even worse, he wants to kill him.

Less of a theory, but I wonder if our!Ciel’s constant sickness as a child was due to real!Ciel, whether through pressure, an inferiority complex, or real!Ciel having Munchausen Syndrome (in which he would have poisoned or somehow made our!Ciel sick so that he, real!Ciel, could get attention). Our!Ciel has been pretty healthy during the span of the manga... (And the few exceptions were due to his asthma acting up in damp environments-- I was surprised he was okay during the cricket tournament)

We’ll certainly get the answers to most of these in time. Right now one of our answer-holders, Tanaka, is probably lurking in the shadows (or maybe real!Ciel has already got to him?! Or...he’s already working with him?!). Hope we see him next chapter!

[nigeiadigitalmarketingcompany]

Netflix Numbers

Digital Elixir Netflix Numbers

They’re killing the golden goose.

Because price matters. Otherwise everybody would use an iPhone and a Mac, but Netflix is not a premium product, it can’t win appealing to a sliver of the public, it needs all of it.

This is how the publishing industry killed digital books.

Despite the hosannas of boomers boasting that they saved the physical book, it won’t be long until they lose the war. You know change…it looks like it’s never going to happen, you laugh at the predictions, and then overnight, it takes hold. Can you say digital photography? Can you say internet connection?

People had been using digital cameras for years, but they were expensive. Just like people were communicating via bulletin boards utilizing low speed modems with arcane software. But non-traditional consumer camera companies, like Panasonic and Sony and Samsung, put out products while Nikon and other high-end manufacturers sat by, as well as the everyman’s company Kodak, and then in a year, digital eclipsed film, just like that. Kinda like AOL turned everybody into an internet user, they made it easy.

Now we had a similar situation in the music business, with the iTunes Store. At first the labels considered it a joke, being Mac-only. But then when sales far exceeded expectations and distribution included Windows, suddenly this sideshow was throwing off revenue… And what did the labels want to do? RAISE PRICES!

And who said they couldn’t?

STEVE JOBS!

The labels are greedy, short-term thinkers, why else would Universal have stored all those masters in an unprotected facility? The music business was always run on intimidation, but finally it came up against someone who wouldn’t play that game, Apple kept prices low until consumers were hooked, then they jumped from 99 cents to $1.29.

99 cents. Ever notice no car is advertised at a round number? How it’s always something 99? Even gas! Our minds trick us into thinking $3.249 is equivalent to $3.24. But the truth is it’s only a tenth of a cent from $3.25.

And going back to books, did you see that Pearson is going digital first on textbooks? Physical was killing them. They got no revenue on resale. And prices were so high, sales were less frequent.

Instead, they went to the subscription model. That’s right, for less than print you get something that can be upgraded on a regular basis, like a streaming music service. Your subscription to Spotify, et al, is not a fixed picture, but a constantly rolling enterprise that adds new titles on a regular basis…and as long as you keep paying ten bucks a month, you can hear them.

Ten bucks. Spotify is a public company under earnings pressure. It could immediately raise prices, but it would start hemorrhaging customers. If it’s under ten bucks, it’s a throwaway. Once it eclipses that number, you start to think about it. I mean there are months when we barely watch Netflix, but we don’t cancel. But if you’re counting your pennies, supporting a family, every little bit counts and you look for alternatives that are good enough, like Android and Windows.

There’s a huge market in good enough. Not everybody needs to buy Nike or 7 jeans or… They’ll settle for the knock-off.

So Netflix is under Wall Street pressure, to pay for all that programming. So it keeps raising prices. Now you think they’re going to keep going up FOREVER! You feel the company no longer cares for you, the bond is broken and you start evaluating cash versus benefit.

As for HBO… On one hand, people are accustomed to the $15 price point. But the dirty little secret is that most people don’t pay that $15, or don’t think they do. The HBO fee is baked into your cable plan, which is a negotiation worse than buying a car. I got so frustrated I told my provider to cancel everything but the internet, and just before the clerk did this, she told me for $9.99 more, I could get essentially all the channels I was getting, including HBO…believe me, I don’t think HBO is costing me $15.

Which is why Disney is so brilliantly starting with a low price for its streaming service.

And what Netflix kept doing was adding loads of product while raising the price.

But the truth is most of this product sucks. And it’s an experiment, if it doesn’t immediately generate an audience, Netflix kills it. That’s right the Northern Californians are so into algorithms and spreadsheets that they miss the essence… One or two great shows make up for a slew of crappy ones. Kinda like the CD business!

And I can’t say there’s been a killer show on Netflix this year. No water cooler moment.

And one thing we’re looking for from Netflix is something DIFFERENT! Not only from network, but HBO too. Come on, HBO never would have aired “Babylon Berlin,” no way, not enough people would watch it. But if you struggled through the first few episodes on Netflix, you got hooked, I haven’t stopped talking about the show and I saw it YEARS AGO!

And it’s not like history is unwritten. “Sex and the City” ended and HBO suffered, they needed more hits.

I scan the sites all the time, looking for what to watch. And when I rarely find new Netflix shows, it frustrates me.

And screw the algorithm, showing me what I should be interested in, I have no idea what’s actually on Netflix, I read about a movie being available on the service, but it never pops up on my screen. Where’s the website where I can scan all the content? Hell, it looks to me like they don’t have that much, even though they keep telling everybody they do!

There’s too much television for mediocre to survive. Not only are there so many other options on TV, there are non-series/movie distractions only a click away, like YouTube, Instagram, Snapchat…

In other words, Netflix has lost touch with its customers.

Just like the publishing business. Who in hell is gonna buy the digital version if the hardcover is cheaper, or only a dollar or two more? It’s a bad value proposition. Kids are down with virtual purchases, as they do in video games, but the oldsters still need to be convinced. Most people who are anti-digital readers never even read that way! But when all books were $9.99 or less… If you bought something and it sucked, no big deal. But when it’s $15?

Yup, the book business is just like Netflix. Not aware their business depends on customers. Amazon was growing their business, adding customers and sales. I used to buy a physical book a year, maybe two or three. It just didn’t make sense, $25? But with digital, I buy a book every other week if not more often. But I must admit, I think twice about my purchases at these inflated prices, and I’m pissed they’re so high when there’s no printing and shipping…

You want your customers to LOVE you, otherwise you’re the record business. Devastated at the advent of this century. Customers had been ripped-off for so long, they didn’t feel bad about stealing, And what did the execs say? Nothing could replace CDs, they were perfect! But the customers didn’t feel this way, and they wanted instant accessibility and portability, qualities that are the essence of digital.

And streaming saved the music business.

But sales don’t equal the pre-internet heyday, so the streaming services are…waiting to raise prices.

Let’s not talk about what something is intrinsically worth… It’s only worth what a buyer is willing to pay.

And one thing’s for sure, I’m not paying for every streaming video service, no way. I’m gonna end up paying as much as cable and getting less! I’m trying to hold off on Hulu. I don’t have the time, and I feel it’s an insult.

But, I did pay for Mhz Choice to watch a foreign series, I thought twice, but it was only $7.99 and opened up a world of proven quality television that otherwise I wouldn’t have access to.

Now is the time for Netflix to ensure that it trumps the competition.

All the news is negative. It’s losing “The Office,” “Friends.”

I don’t watch either, but there’s such blowback that my fealty to Netflix is wavering, I want to be a member of a winning cult. And I know Netflix is countering with all the product it still has, and the press is talking about viewer numbers, but entertainment is not facts, it’s about hearts and minds!

And Netflix is losing them.

~~~

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[mst3kproject]

Short: A Case of Spring Fever

MST3K featured a number of movies, such as The Starfighters and last week's Squirm, that were simply not memorable.  They also did a number of movies and shorts that were deeply memorable, but for all the wrongest possible reasons.  Mr. B Natural was one of those, and A Case of Spring Fever is another.  Both were intended to be whimsical and each, in its own way, ended up being fucking terrifying instead.

The point of A Case of Spring Fever is to explain how springs work and how essential they are to daily life – particularly to automobiles.  Our hero, I guess, is Gilbert, a man whose wife wants him to fix the couch before he goes golfing.  When he complains that he never wants to see another spring again, a cartoon imp called Coily the Spring Sprite appears and grants his wish.  Gilbert quickly realizes that things like his watch and car won't work without springs, and begs Coily to restore them.  He then becomes a sort of spring evangelist, and spends the entirety of his golfing trip prostelytizing to his increasingly annoyed friends about how useful springs are until they never want to see another spring again!

The film is meant to be light-hearted and educational, and possibly to sell us cars, but it lends itself immediately to dark and horrible interpretations.  Mike and the Bots spend the short and the subsequent skit about Mikey the Mike Sprite wondering how the rules of this universe work.  Does every man-made object have a little pixie waiting to snatch it away from us?  Have such creatures existed from the dawn of time, anticipating that they will someday be discovered, or did Coily (I'm so sorry) spring into being with the invention of the first spring?  Was it only Gilbert who was suddenly spring-less, or did everybody else, too, find their watches stopped and their mattresses bounce-less with no explanation?  If it was everybody, was that everybody on Earth, or did it extend to aliens who could theoretically visit us and bring their springs with them?  Would it be possible to make another spring after Coily took them away, or would any new spring vanish as soon as it was finished?  What happened to the Law of Conservation of Mass as all spring-shaped matter just vanished from the universe?

People would think of questions like these no matter whether the short itself were successful in entertaining and educating us, but the fact that we dwell on them illustrates that it is in fact a failure.  Did anybody spend The Lord of the Rings wondering whether Saruman used to be gray and had to be killed by a Balrog before coming back as Saruman the White? Well, actually, yeah, I'm sure somebody did (it may have been me), but those people's friends probably (definitely) told them to shut up and watch the damn movie.  The film itself was more interesting and entertaining than such questions.  In A Case of Spring Fever, the questions distract us because the short can't hold our attention.

(I do know how the Maiar work, by the way. Please don't feel like you have to explain it to me.)

But that doesn't tell us why A Case of Spring Fever is so memorably distressing.  I've seen weirder stuff on TV than Coily the Spring Sprite and it didn't stick in my mind like this short does – and some of that was supposed to be messed-up.  What is going on here?

The most obvious thing is Coily himself. You don't forget Coily.  He appears as a little cartoon helix with curly lines for arms and legs and a head that looks like it belongs to a bad-tempered Christmas elf.  When he speaks, it's in a squeaky, grating old man voice.  Every time Gilbert realizes some springless device won't work, Coily appears and shrieks “no spriiiings!” in a mocking tone before vanishing again, until our hapless protagonist is forced to take back his wish or go insane.

Coily is neither well-animated nor appealing in appearance.  His gestures are repetitive and he never really looks like he's part of the environment – perhaps he's not supposed to, since he does represent an outside, supernatural force, but it's more likely that the animation was just cheap and primitive.  At least some effort was made to make sure the actor playing Gilbert looks in the right direction.  I think Coily was meant to be cute, but his long nose, pointed ears, buck teeth, and spiteful expression are almost demonic, and his attitude definitely so.  There's something downright nightmarish about the way he pops up to mock as Gilbert grows ever more frustrated.  He is literally torturing his victim into compliance.

As Crow observes when he asks how this all fits into 'God's plan for us', Coily is also a very pagan little bugger.  In ancient Greece and Rome, people believed that both natural and man-made objects had their own guardian gods or spirits.  Iuturna, for example, was the Roman goddess of fountains, and Ianus the god of doors and gates (Wikipedia lists Fons as the god of springs, but they mean the water type).  One of the ways early Christianity tried to discourage worship of these gods was by portraying them as demons.  Coily, a spirit with a restricted area of responsibility, who must be appeased with devotion or else will lash out and punish people, is just such an entity.

Scholars in the Middle Ages wrote books about the complex hierarchy among the legions of hell.  I wonder where Coily fits into those.

Even more disturbing is how the encounter with Coily changes Gilbert.  We don't get to know Gilbert very well, but the brief glimpse we have of him is of somebody impatient and a bit lazy, eager for an excuse to avoid his chores and go play golf.  When he takes back his wish for no more springs, the film cuts abruptly from Gilbert in the car to Gilbert under the sofa again, which could be interpreted to mean that the last few minutes were only a dream... but then we find Gilbert utterly transformed.  Rather than relaxing and enjoying the golf game, he spends the entire afternoon telling his friends about springs, giving even more examples of their ubiquity and usefulness than we already got from Coily.  He doesn't act like somebody who just woke from a nightmare.  Instead, the nightmare seems to intensify as Gilbert loses his own personality and identity, leaving only an obsession with springs! It seems that Coily has brainwashed Gilbert, or perhaps even possesses his body.  That would explain why he suddenly knows so much about how springs work and the many other areas of life they are important to.  He has become a puppet under Coily's control, spreading the cult of springs for some dark purpose.

I'm kidding.  I think.

Another source of unintentional horror is how A Case of Spring Fever reminds us that our society takes a lot of important things for granted. The lives of first-world urbanites revolve around a number of services that could theoretically be pulled out from under us at any moment. Running water is a good example – when I was younger, the water main on the street where I lived broke, and my family had to get our water from a tank truck at the end of the street for a few days while they fixed it.  During that time basic things like cooking, washing, and even using the toilet were of course far more inconvenient and time-consuming than we were used to and you can bet it made us appreciate how much we take water for granted... until about an hour and a half after it came back on.  Electricity is probably an even better illustration: we don't realize just how much our lives depend on it until the power goes out and we're left not knowing what to do with ourselves until it comes back on.

It's not possible for every single spring on the planet to suddenly evaporate, but things like electricity and water can.  A large solar flare could theoretically kill the power grid over huge areas and the damage might take weeks or months to repair (as those who survived Hurricane Sandy can attest).  There are places even in North America where infrastructure problems have left people without clean water for years – Flint, Michigan is only the most famous example.  Not to mention those of us who are dependent on medications or some other survival aid that makes contemplating the zombie apocalypse way less fun.  The world humans have built for ourselves is fragile, and we don't like being reminded of that.

A Case of Spring Fever is something the Brains had kicking around for quite a long time before they found an opportunity to use it – they referenced it in both Viking Women and the Sea Serpent and Bride of the Monster.  These skits couldn't have made much sense to the viewers who hadn't yet seen the short, but the host sketches often didn't make much sense anyway – it must have been a relevation when A Case of Spring Fever finally aired.  I suspect they put it in front of Squirm because they knew they were being cancelled and this was their last chance to get it on the show.  I'm glad they did.

I can think of a few other shorts that manage to be fucked-up and fascinating enough that I'll probably end up reviewing them.  Days of Our Years (appearing before The Amazing Transparent Man) comes to mind, as does Design for Dreaming (from Twelve to the Moon).  I may even try to track down the entire runs of things like Radar Men from the Moon and Undersea Kingdom, though I'll probably be sorry I did.  Wish me luck.