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schmokschmok · 4 years

Text

everything changes, nothing perishes

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationship: Jon Sims x Martin K. Blackwood

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Martin K. Blackwood, Gerry Delano, Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Wordcount: 10.000

Freeform:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alternate Universe - College/University

Romantic & Platonic Soulmates

Brief Georgie/Jon

Amicable Breakups

Trans Melanie King & Martin Blackwood

He/Him & They/Them Pronouns For Asexual, Nonbinary Royalty Jon Sims

HOH Tim Stoker

The Mechanisms Are The Archivist’s College Band

Summary

It’s just like Martin to get a soulmate who’s already bound to someone else.

A "the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your skin"-au but the twist is only a twist if you haven't read the first installment of the series (which is not necessary but appreciated).

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395876

Complimentary Georgie/Melanie Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056415

CN: Alcohol (mentioned), Canon-/Fanon-typical Martin Loneliness, Food (mentioned), Toxic Parent-Child Relationship (Martin’s mother)

Just got drunk and walked in.

It’s kind of a funny story, Martin supposes, what with the admission of alcohol being the catalysator and the cocky confidence of the script. When he was young, he thought about this sentence a lot, even though his idea of ‘getting drunk’ didn’t correspond to reality. (He still thinks a lot about it, but it’s not as rose-tinted anymore. Or at least he likes to think it isn’t.)

He never pictured a face or an actual voice to accommodate the words. But he thought about the tone, and the inflection, the way someone might say it with anger or arrogance or the intensity of a really great punchline.

The stories he made up were full of bravery and heroism, of drunk shenanigans and questionable decisions, of happy accidents and laughter. Fantastical in places, but realistic most of the time.

On better days he imagines a whole group of people close to him – friends – waiting for him in their favourite pub or on a patch of grass in front of the college he’s going to attend soon or in the flat of one of them. He imagines them chatting and retelling stories animatedly, laughing and talking over each other in enthusiasm and comradery. And one day there would be someone new, someone Martin would not have seen before. And in the moment, Martin would get into earshot, they would say it: Just got drunk and walked in. And it would be the start of a story about the lack of courage and the finding of it on the bottom of a bottle. Or the beginning of a tale about someone trying to do good, being all on their own, however. Or it would be the end of an adventure of nerves and worry.

Martin can see himself with someone equally as anxious as him. But he can also see himself with someone cockily declaring that they drunkenly walked into a place they shouldn’t have been in as well.

On worse days he imagines hearing the words in a crowd, only in bypassing, the source of countless daydreams and nightmares swallowed by the masses of people going on about their day without ever realising he was there in the first place.

One thing stays the same though in all of his imaginations and phantasies. In every single version Martin can think of, he falls in love with the voice before seeing their face first. It doesn’t matter if the words are yelled in arrogance and vanity or muttered self-consciously and kind of self-deprecatingly or hesitantly contemplated. He falls in love so fast and hard he stops breathing for a second then and there.

He had years upon years to build up enough expectations to know it only needs a little shove to snowball all of his fluttering endearment into the devastating, all-consuming love he was always destined to feel.

Martin is a romantic at heart and it doesn’t matter that all of his what ifs are futile and unrealistic, he’s in love with the idea of having a fairy-tale romance and that’s enough as it is. With all its daydreams and the gentle warmth in his stomach.

He doesn’t want to be lonely, really, he tries his best not to be. But it’s hard and he doesn’t know how to change it. When he still lived with his mother, she complained a lot about him being home all the time when he wasn’t working. (He shouldn’t think too much about it, she also complained a lot about him being away too much – no matter if he was out working or meeting up with somebody who could turn into a friend.)

The first two years in college didn’t change that fact at all. He was friendly with most of the people he met in his department and at the events he attended. But he wasn’t friends with them by any means. And that had always been the problem, hadn’t it? They thought he was a good lad, a nice chap, a dapper mate, a “we should hang out sometime!” and an “it’s lovely seeing you here!” but he’s not interesting to talk to. People don’t remember him because: While he can hold small talk relatively well, conversations with him tend to be one-sided. He asks the right questions, listens and reacts appropriately to the things people tell him, but he doesn’t reciprocate, can’t counter a story with a story because they’re either too personal or too embarrassing or don’t exist at all.

The first person talking often enough to Martin to make him share a few selected stories here and there is Gerry Delano. They share a single class and find themselves sitting next to each other, sharing and comparing the notes they made during the lecture. They haven’t met up outside of their shared class before, so Martin’s pleasantly surprised when Gerry asks him to come see his band the up-coming weekend.

He’s late. Because of course he is. One time. One single time he gets invited to something, so naturally he has to put in overtime. He’s at least an hour late, maybe even a little bit more. The text he shot Gerry to let him know that he’s late sits unread and unanswered in their chat and Martin feels awful.

Eventually, he reaches The Anglerfish, the small student bar just off the campus that hosts open mic nights and concerts for student bands. Gerry’s band is supposed to play tonight as the closing act; the after-act for a bigger student band Martin’s never heard of – The Mechanics? The Mech– something something. Apparently, they have a longer set than the other bands so Martin could be lucky to only have miss one or two songs of Gerry’s band.

Martin hasn’t listened to a single song of any of the bands that play tonight, so he’s not sure what to expect from the evening. Muffled music spills out of the slightly ajar windows, but he can’t make out a genre or any specific instruments, so he reaches for the handle of the door and takes a deep breath, for the last time relatively alone, then he opens the door and goes into the dimly lit entry way.

The first thing he hears are the chattering voices of people standing off to the bar and sitting at tables lining the walls, but when he dives into the crowd, simultaneously scanning it for Gerry’s lanky figure, he hears it.

“Just got drunk and walked in,” declares a voice loudly and with a manic kind of arrogance. Martin freezes in place. This is all wrong.

But he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on the fact that he heard the phrase etched into his upper thigh verbatim from someone he can’t even see, because the crowd doesn’t stop moving. Despite Martin’s need for the whole world to take a fucking breather, the people behind him shove him into the room and he tries to get air into his lungs again, but he only manages a few shallow breaths before the voice carries on and Martin realises that it has to be the singer on stage who said the most fateful words of Martin’s life.

The voice is gruff now, deeper and drunkenly confident.

Careful not to bump into too many people, Martin navigates through the crowd, trying to catch a look at the stage. In spite of his height it proves difficult and he goes further into the bar, diving into the crowd, while absolutely forgetting why he came in the first time: To meet Gerry who wanted to see the band Martin’s currently enraptured by, before playing with his band.

Finally, he manages to find a place at the far-right side of the publicum – close enough to see the stage but far enough to not stand in the way of the fans that came specifically for the band.

The song’s still going, and Martin scans the stage briefly. The band’s bigger than he expected and if it weren’t for the sheer presence of the person standing front centre stage, clutching the retro silver microphone with only one hand, Martin’s sure he’d have to look at every member of the band to determine who he’s looking for.

Adjusting his glasses, he attempts to take in every detail he can but he’s pretty far off and he can’t see everything he wants to. The things he can see are their long brown hair, dishevelled and laced with braids to keep it from falling into their face, goggles perched on their head like a headband; the dark brown skin of their face and hands and the lower half of their left arm; the black paint around their eyes, rampant like ivy roots; the black nail polish on the hand holding the microphone; the white linen shirt underneath the muddy brown waist coat, a dip hem skirt in the same soily brown over fishnet stockings and heavy brown boots with at least four or five centimetres of heel.

Their voice sounds like it’s made to narrate and yell and sing and– well, talk, actually. It sounds like a voice Martin would love to talk to and listen to and wake up to and– shit. This is bad and, did he mention, this is all wrong.

A narration begins and Martin realises all of a sudden that it took one measly song for him to lose all dignity and sense of appropriateness and instead win all of the love at first sight he dreamt of but didn’t anticipate to, well, suck so much.

He can’t have a crush on someone like, like that! Someone beautiful who carries themselves with ease and swagger and confidence. Until now he thought he could do this, you know, meeting his soulmate and instantly falling in love and maybe even talk to them like a civilised human being. But he was wrong, god was he wrong! He can’t talk to that ethereal being in fishnets. This is, wow, this is so far out of his comfort zone, he involuntarily takes a step back.

The only reasonable explanation is that he must have misheard the narration, must have missed a quintessential detail of what happened. Or it’s a very strange coincidence, his soulmark isn’t the most non-sensical sentence, there’s probably plenty people out there being able to say the exact same sentence. He just hasn’t met them yet.

Still, he can’t avert his eyes, he’s transfixed on the stage, listening to the, to be embarrassingly frank, horribly hot voice laying down the events leading to Oedipus’ Trial of Wits. Everything except the stage steps back and Martin’s brain singles out the band. The elbows touching him and the feet stepping on his don’t feel as real anymore, or maybe he’s less real in this weird interspace of knowing your soulmate or crushing on a complete stranger with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.

But there is no way to know, is it? He can’t go back and enter the bar again, consciously heeding the sentence that caused his distress. The only things he can think of doing are either getting to know the singer, who introduces himself as Jonny d’Ville just a few songs later, which is pretty creepy and Martin doesn’t want to do that – or he has to attend the next concert (or next concerts?) to determine if he merely misheard which doesn’t seem like a better alternative, if Martin’s honest.

So, still unsure what he should do next, he focuses on Jonny d’Ville and the way he gestures while narrating and singing like he’s winding his thoughts forth; the way he sits down during the songs he’s not involved in; the way he can’t hold back when Marius von Raum sings the part of Herakles and he mouths the words excitedly before jumping back to the microphone to sing the part of Zeus; the way he uses a single drumstick to beat the drum and holds the harmonica; the way he draws a steam punky gun and flourishes it like a natural extension of his arm.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

Gerry’s voice is so close to his ear, that the sudden proximity startles him more than the actual talking to him, or at least that’s what he tells himself. He’s not far gone enough to admit, even if it’s just to himself, that he was captivated by the band so much that he didn’t even realise that they neared the end of their act.

“D-Didn’t you get my text?” Martin yells back, leaning back, out of Gerry’s personal space. “Had to put in overtime and when I got here, I couldn’t find you.”

Gerry waves dismissively and shouts back: “Well, I found you at last, we’re up next!” He grins self-consciously and nods towards the stage. “Don’t really wanna get up after them but the crowd’s hyped up so maybe they’ll accept us as one of them.”

Even though his gaze flickers to the stage multiple times, Martin succeeds in looking at Gerry and smiling encouragingly. Then he says: “You’ll do amazing, Gerry. Don’t worry.”

While Gerry opens his mouth, the last notes of Elysian Fields carry through the bar and applause rings out. Jonny d’Ville takes a step forward, basking in the applause of the crowd and chugging water from a half litre bottle. As the applause dies down a bit, he lifts the microphone up again and exclaims: “Thank you! Thank you! Now, we are aiming to put that on CD, ehh, sometime around July. It won’t be exactly the show that you saw, this is, well, this is the debut. This’ll be refined and processed, et cetera, et cetera.” He bows outlandishly. “But if you want to help with that occurring – and you know you do – there is a crowdfunding, an indiegogo page, uhm, for this, uh, CD, there’s lots of,” he fumbles for words, “lovely perks from dice to patches and all sorts of brilliant things. So, go there, give us all your money.” The crowd laughs. “And then we will make a CD and we will send you the CD and you can listen to this to your heart’s content, uhh,” the crowd cheers again, “but thank you so much for coming!” He gives a few more thanks, then he says. “We’re going to, well, we’re going to leave you, uhm, with one quick final song and I think you probably know which one. So, sing along if you know the words.”

And the crowd knows the words.

Involuntarily, Martin steps back, overwhelmed by the sheer energy that erupts because of the people around him jumping up and down, yelling the lyrics to Drunk Space Pirate.

After that, it doesn’t take too long for The Mechanisms to clear the stage off their instruments and The Black Eyed Keays to set up their own act. Gerry comes out, hand gripping the neck of his electric guitar harder than necessary, knuckles lighter than the rest of his tan hand. His band is composed of five members including him, Martin’s yet to meet them.

Before he can start really looking at the other four musicians, he can see Ashes o’Reilly coming through the makeshift curtain separating the backstage area from the public. They goe straight to a woman standing off to the side, while politely dismissing people congratulating them and trying to involve them into conversation. As Martin averts his eyes because it seems like a private moment, he sees Jonny d’Ville leaving the backstage area, pulled through the curtain by Raphaella, their hands intertwined.

Something in Martin halts, something that had been on edge for the last hour or so, something that seemed to only be satisfied by the crushing reality of his potential soulmate holding the hand of someone other than him. (They could be friends, Martin knows that, he’s not that dense to think that everyone holding hands has to be romantically involved with each other. But it doesn’t stop him in the slightest of thinking that he wants to be in the place of holding Jonny d’Ville’s hand. He doesn’t even know the real name of the guy and already wants to hold his hand. Pathetic. And definitively creepy.)

Shaking his head to remind himself that he’s here for Gerry and The Black Eyed Keays, he turns away from Jonny d’Ville and Raphaella stopping at the bar, but out of the corner of his eyes he catches sight of Raphaella wrapping her arms around Jonny d’Ville’s waist.

As far as Martin can tell, it’s going well for him, wonderful even, just perfectly fine. He realised today that he hadn’t spent too much time wondering about The Mechanisms or Jonny d’Ville in the past few months and he’s rather proud of himself for not obsessing. His shift ended a tad early today, he didn’t have any costumers that grinded his nerves, the night provided him with a good eight-hour long sleep, and he didn’t even have nightmares.

This is the literal incorporation of a good day. Martin doesn’t have too many of them, so he tries to really bask in the feeling, who knows how long it’s going to last.

On the way out of the Ceaseless Watcher, he picks up two cups – one filled with black coffee and one with a herbal-fruit tea blend – and starts walking to the patch of grass in front of the Jonah Magnus’ University where he’s supposed to meet Gerry. Careful not to spill coffee or tea or burn himself, he clenches one of the cups between his forearm and his chest, while he fumbles for the phone in his pocket.

For a second, he contemplates coming to a halt to text Gerry that he’s on his way, but he doesn’t want to stop, being in the momentum already. While concentrating on proper (or at least somewhat comprehensible) grammar and typing the right letters, he’s paying a little less attention to the way as he should. Of course, he notices the change of underground from the hard-stomped way underneath the trees to the openness and softness of the grassy patch. But, actually, that’s about it. It’s not too crowded because it starts to be too cold outside to properly hang out, so he doesn’t even have to navigate through groups of students.

The thing is: Martin doesn’t really think something (or someone) could cross his way, so he doesn’t even try to pay attention to the area around him. And that’s why he doesn’t reckon with the incredibly inauspicious sounding crinkling when he steps on something that is decidedly not lawn.

Martin stops dead in his track, draws a shaky breath and wants to say anything (like an apology probably), but the only words leaving his mouth are a softly whispered: “Oh no.”

The words of apology are stuck in his throat and he doesn’t dare look up from the sketchpad he stepped on unintentionally. Right on top of a study of the two statues in front of the academic museum of arts is a rather perfect imprint of the sole of his boot. Martin swallows.

“You cannot be serious,” drawls a voice that makes heat rise in Martin’s cheeks – out of shame and recognition all the same.

As if the voice had snapped Martin out of a stupor, he rushes to say: “Oh, god, I am so sorry.” Shoving his phone into his coat pocket and setting down the two cups, he crouches and starts to wipe at the now slightly damp paper, more apologies tumbling from his lips.

“Alright!” The voice cuts him short, impatiently. “Stop it. It’s alright. Don’t bother.”

Two hands reach for the sketchpad, taking it out of Martin’s hands without further ado.

“I’m really sorry,” Martin says again, still not daring to look into the face of the person he just ruined the day for. Instead, he’s looking at their hands – one of them pulling the sleeve of a jumper or hoodie out of the sleeve of their coat and over their other hand to gently dab at the paper that already starts to get wavy where Martin’s boot hit it.

The person who is definitely not Jonny d’Ville (because Jonny d’Ville is a stage name and Martin doesn’t know who the human being in front of him is) retorts curtly: “I gathered as much.”

“Is it …”, Martin interrupts himself, shifting his weight so that he’s sitting on his heels instead of the balls of his feet. “Was it important?” He scrunches his nose. “I mean, I didn’t– didn’t destroy, like, a project for a course you’ve been working on for months, did I?”

“No,” they reply but their tone suggests otherwise. “It’s not … It’s nothing.”

They stop dabbing at the paper and Martin realises that they’re looking at him now and that it would be the polite thing to look back. It costs him approximately a metric shit ton of effort to lift his eyes and meet theirs. But he manages. (Just about.)

Martin regrets his decision to meet their eyes at approximately the same time that he can start making out the details of their face that he hadn’t been able to see in the dim light of The Anglerfish and the distance between him and the stage. It’s the exact same moment that Martin realises that they are as beautiful as Martin thought they would be. In a more reigned in and moderated kind of way – their hair confined in a bun, their face not painted with ivy roots but dotted with circular scars, and their outfit more suitable for daily use – but nonetheless beautiful.

“It doesn’t look like it’s nothing,” Martin says softly, and he doesn’t know where he’s getting the courage from. (Probably nowhere, he’s not exactly thinking as it is. And ‘not thinking’ is not the same thing as conjuring up courage.)

A scoff slips past their lips and they reply: “It is, though. And even if it wasn’t: I don’t see how this could be of any concern to you.”

Martin averts his eyes and looks down at the two cups he placed next to the place where the sketchpad had previously lain. The shock of already having his foot in his mouth is probably the reason why Martin just goes on: “If I want to make it up to you, I need to know just how bad my clanger was.”

His gaze flickers back to their face and takes in the steep corrugation between their drawn together brows.

Slowly, they say: “You don’t have to make it up to me.” They look almost appalled at the thought, and Martin’s not sure if he should be offended on his behalf or theirs. (Does he look like someone who ruins peoples work and then walks away? Or did nobody ever thought about righting their wrong when interacting with them?)

“I know I don’t have to,” Martin retorts, then he backpaddles and tries to correct himself: “I mean, you don’t seem like someone who’d enforce rectification but … I want to.” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Make it up to you, that is.”

“Oh,” they say softly, and Martin thinks that they seem like they didn’t even notice they said anything at all. Absentmindedly, their left hand fiddles with the hem of the maybe-sweater-maybe-hoodie sleeve still pulled over their right hand.

“This was absolutely and entirely my fault,” Martin says when they don’t speak up again. “So, if it would be alright with you, I would like to, I don’t know, buy you a coffee?” The blush on his cheeks intensifies because he knows what this could look like. But someone like them would never even consider that someone like Martin could hit on them, so he tries not to dwell on that thought for too long. “I work at the Ceaseless Watcher, so, you could drop by and get a coffee on the house?”

Martin attempts a smile but it’s a rather weak one. The palms of his hands are clammy and a little numb, but he doesn’t dare wiping them on his trousers to get rid of the feeling.

“Are you working on Thursday?”

In all honesty, Martin didn’t reckon they would actually agree. Much less on the first go. (Such things don’t happen to Martin. He is never lucky enough that things just work out.)

“I– uh, yes,” Martin rushes to say before they can think about changing their mind. “Five to eleven.” An owlish blink in Martin’s direction. “P.M.”

“Good,” they say, both hands now lying flat on their sketchpad. “Then I will see you on Thursday.”

Martin takes this as his cue to stand up and leave, and it takes him almost ten whole minutes until he realises that he doesn’t even know the name of the person he had just met. And it takes him almost five more minutes of self-loathing and -pity until he remembers that they will see each other again. Next Thursday.

Maybe one time everything can work out for Martin. Just one time.

It doesn’t work out for Martin.

It doesn’t work out for Martin, so obviously and severely, that Martin genuinely thinks about hiding in the employee’s bathroom so that Jane can take over the register and deal with the slowly trickling in students of the Jonah Magnus Institute.

Jon (that’s his name, Jon without an H, it’s short for Jonathan, narrowed eyes at Martin’s name tag, Martin) has a girlfriend that is beautiful like a flower meadow in full bloom underneath the blue open sky. But they don’t just look great together (and they do, Martin’s perfectly and painfully aware of that fact), they seem to get along greatly, too. (Which is good! It’s not like Martin’s begrudging someone’s happy relationship or anything. It’s more like … he envies it? Envies the apparent ease and comfortability that come with knowing someone intimately for a long time. Envies the way they lean into each other and share private smiles. Envies the look of contentedness and trust when they look at each other. – Or maybe he’s overanalysing things he has never been part of. Eternally condemned to an etic approach to romantic relationships.)

Today, however, Martin wants to flee the scene because Jon looks livid and Georgie’s attempts to calm him down seem rather futile. They’re barely in earshot when Jon hisses: “I still don’t understand why you invited her along.”

“It’s not every day that you meet your soulmate,” Georgie replies soft spoken and with an exasperation that implies that it’s not the first time she has said this sentence to him. “And I won’t let you antagonise her just for the sake of it. At least get to know her. If she’s as bad as you think she is, you get to tell me that you told me so and I’ll back off.” She smiles at him. “Deal?”

But she doesn’t wait for him to answer, instead she turns to the counter where Martin’s been standing the whole time, trying to look like he hasn’t been eavesdropping, and greets him: “Hey, Martin.”

“Hi.” Martin tries to smile through the awkward glances Jon shoots him. “What can I do for you?”

“Two latte macchiatos, one decaf, one regular, and one white coffee,” she replies. While he’s ringing up her order, she continues: “And maybe if you could answer me this: Do you think Jon’s approachable?”

Martin stops dead in his tracks and Jon splutters: “Georgie!”

“What?” Her gaze flickers between an indignant Jon and the redder and redder growing face of Martin. She tilts her head in confusion and furrows her brows.

Jon hisses: “You can’t rope Martin into your schemes, you wretched thing!”

“Why not?”, Georgie questions before Martin gets to have a word in this. (Not that Martin would actively try to intervene when they’re obviously fighting about something important. Something Martin doesn’t want to think about while they’re still standing right in front of him.)

“Because,” Jon starts to say, but Georgie’s bulldozing on: “Martin is the newest addition to our squad and you brought him in, so, if anyone knows if you’re approachable or not, it’s him.”

“Martin is not a part of our friend group,” Jon says bewildered, then the realisation that Martin’s right in front of them sinks in. But the words are out in the open and the damage is already done.

“Jon!” Georgie exclaims, her voice filled with outrage (or at least something that comes close to outrage).

Martin smiles weakly and says: “It’s okay, Jon’s right. We’re not friends, or anything.”

It’s true, even though Martin had hoped that they could become friends. Or at least acquainted. Sometime in the future. (But Martin has to admit that Georgie thinking that Martin belongs to them in any kind of way – it felt nice. Nicer and bigger than it should probably have.)

“Oh,” Georgie says, brows even more furrowed than before, and a look of contemplation on her face that Martin can’t decipher. Then she shakes her head and Jane calls out for Jon and Georgie to collect their drinks.

They continue their argument while walking away, and Georgie sends him a soft smile and a wave over her shoulder before they grab their coffees and head for a table near the front of the café.

Martin tries not to look at them too much, or at all even, but he must have failed embarrassingly, because he notices Jon’s displeased face before he realises that someone has entered the café and beelines for the table Georgie and Jon sit at.

And that’s the moment Georgie’s and Jon’s conversation hits him full force. Jon’s soulmate has come into their life. Jon‘s soulmate has come into their life and the soulmate in question has just entered The Ceaseless Watcher. Which means one thing: Martin is not Jon’s soulmate.

Martin laughs lowly and self-deprecatingly and thinks: It’s just like him to get a soulmate who’s already bound to someone else. If he’d tell his mother, she’d probably tell him he had it coming without ever specifying why.

“Sounds exhausting,” Gerry says, both arms on the counter and more slumped against it than standing upright.

Martin shrugs his shoulders and says: “That’s just uni life.”

“It’s not,” Gerry retorts, pulling a face. “I’ve been lying on my bed the whole weekend, working on a few new songs. What you’re doing is the Martin way of life and, no offence, but it sounds exhausting. Three out of ten, wouldn’t recommend.”

“I kinda … take offence?” Martin’s voice goes up way too much at the end of the sentence, and Gerry waves his hand dismissively. “Did you just come by to insult me?”

Gerry grins and extends his arm to ruffle Martin’s hair (which is not something Martin expects other people to do and that’s why he doesn’t really know how to react to it), before he says: “Nah. Don’t. If it’s working for you, go ahead. – I’m here because my roommate and their girlfriend broke up, so I’m waiting for them to, I don’t know, cheer them up, I guess.”

“Oh,” Martin says eloquently. “I’m sorry?”

Gerry shrugs. “It’s alright, I think. They didn’t sound too upset on the phone.” Then his gaze falls on the giant clock on the wall behind the counter. “Should be here soon. Could you please ring up one regular latte macchiato and one decaf?”

Nodding, Martin punches the order into the register and Gerry reaches for his wallet. Then Martin steps over to the coffee machine to prepare the two different shots of espresso and heat and foam the soy-oat milk blend.

They exchange a few more quips while Gerry carries the hot beverages to a table next to the wall and gets back to the counter because they don’t want to disturb the other patrons by talking too loudly.

Gerry’s about to go on a tangent about the breaking of his G and B strings, when the bell above the door chimes and someone enters The Ceaseless Watcher.

Without intent or his own volition, a bright smile plasters itself onto Martin’s face, before he even turns towards the door – pavloved into customer friendliness – and sees Jon walk into the café. His smile falters a bit, but he manages to uphold it and greets: “Hey, Jon.”

Jon nods in reciprocation and says: “Martin, Gerry.”

“Oh, you know each other?” Martin asks, already one finger on the register to punch in Jon’s order, but Gerry’s hand makes an abortive gesture.

“Jon’s my roommate,” Gerry explains with another gesture towards the table where the two latte macchiatos wait for them. “Didn’t know you were acquainted.”

A blush creeps up Martin’s neck and he forces an embarrassed groan back down his throat. He’s torn between processing the information that Jon and Georgie broke up (apparently) and the realisation that Gerry used they/them pronouns for Jon.

“Well, we are,” Jon replies curtly and frees Martin from saying anything at all. Jon already turns to leave the counter when Martin squeezes out: “Jon, could I– would you– just a moment?”

Jon nods and Gerry walks to their table to give them a moment of privacy. But Martin doesn’t continue, because the questions that pile up in his mouth and block the way for the thing he actually planned to ask try to fight their way over his lips. Did Georgie and you really break up? Is it because of your soulmate? Are you alright? Is Georgie alright?

“Yes, Martin?” Jon looks vaguely annoyed. (Or maybe Jon looks obviously annoyed, but Martin doesn’t want to accept it because he’s a hopeless romantic and thinks that even if he is not Jon’s soulmate, Jon is still his and that must mean something, right? The universe wouldn’t be as cruel as to present Martin his soulmate only to make them hate him, right? – Yes, of course, Martin knows that soulmates don’t have to be romantic or even platonic, that a shared soulmark only means this person will have an impact on your life and that it is on them to find out what kind of impact that is. But Martin wants it to be positive. He desperately craves for it to be positive force in his life. And he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if this thing ends up being a giant fluke.)

Martin clears his throat and tries to ignore the burning behind his eyes.

“Just,” Martin swallows down everything that doesn’t have any place being in his mouth, “Gerry used they/them pronouns for you and … I don’t want to misgender you?”

Jon’s face doesn’t tell Martin anything. If Jon is pleased knowing that Gerry uses the right pronouns; if Jon is annoyed that Gerry made a capital t Thing out of Jon by using gender-neutral language; if Jon doesn’t really care either way. Jon just looks at him. It’s a bit unsettling.

“If you don’t want to talk to me about this, I get it,” Martin continues softly when Jon doesn’t say a thing and only studies Martin’s face. “You don’t have to. But I would like to, you know, respect it if you preferred a specific set of pronouns.”

Martin shrugs to shove the weight off his shoulders, but Jon’s stare turns disconcerting. Uncertainty making its way into Martin’s chest, until Jon says slowly: “I use he/him and they/them pronouns. At the moment it’s the latter.”

A nod in acknowledgment earns Martin something akin to a smile, the smallest of uplifts of the corners of Jon’s lips, and warmth spreads through Martin’s cheeks and chest.

They lift their hand in a wave goodbye until they seem to realise that they’re not actually leaving but rather sitting down at the table Gerry’s still waiting at, and duck their head in something Martin wants to call embarrassment.

For a few minutes while nobody walks up to the counter and everyone seems to be busy except Martin, Martin takes a plate out of one of the cupboards and places two pastries on it. Then, after a few pacing steps forward and back again and too much hesitation, he walks over to Gerry and Jon and places the plate on the table.

Jon opens their mouth to say something and Martin can see the questioning look on Gerry’s face. But he cuts the discussion short by blurting out: “On the house.”

In an attempt to mask the anxiety already spreading through him, Martin smiles his brightest smile, turns around and walks away. (Which: Who does something like that? Jon must suspect that Gerry has told Martin something Martin shouldn’t know about. Or they must think that Martin is an absolute court jester. And given Gerry’s face, at least Gerry suspects that Martin is not acting out of sheer courtesy.)

(Martin desperately wishes for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.)

Georgie and Jon are broken up for good, or that’s at least what Jon says to Martin. This is remarkable because of two things: First of all because it means that Jon is actually talking to Martin except for, you know, ordering coffee or awkward small talk while Martin prepares the beverage. And secondly because Martin didn’t think their split would actually last. Georgie and Jon are, even if it sounds impossible, the perfect pair and Martin isn’t sure how they managed to not be soulmates.

Since Martin tried to clarify Jon’s use of pronouns, Jon has significantly warmed up to Martin and Martin isn’t sure if it’s because of this or because Jon can’t spend as much time with Georgie anymore. (It’s not like they actually take a break from seeing each other. Gerry told Martin that Jon and Georgie went to an outing together on the same night they broke up.) Either way, Martin’s suddenly confronted with a Jon who asks him low-voiced how he’s doing and who hesitantly wants him to have a good day.

“He/him day,” Jon says instead of a greeting. He wipes sweat from his forehead and tries to tug every stray strand and wisp of hair behind his ears or underneath his hair tie – rather unsuccessfully.

Martin throws a glance behind Jon to assess the situation in the café and if he can risk leaving the counter for a moment. When he deems it safe, Martin says: “This reminds me … Wait a moment, I …”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but instead walks into the little storage room in the back of the shop to fish a little box out of his bag and come back to the front of the café. A small blush blooming on his cheeks, Martin smiles at Jon and says: “Hey, Jon.”

Jon furrows his brow as if he hadn’t realised that he skipped an essential part of the conversation, then replies dutifully: “Hello, Martin.”

“So,” Martin begins, “I’ve been thinking. We’ve been talking about your pronouns and …” Martin trails off and presents the little box he retrieved from his bag. He opens it and showcases two braided bracelets, one in salmon pink and one in teal. “I heard about pronoun pins and bracelets? Had some yarn laying around and thought … if you want to, you could use them to indicate your preferred pronouns?”

At the end, Martin’s voice trails off and he sounds a lot less sure about his idea. His uncertainty is a mix out of ‘did I overstep’ and ‘am I too much’, but the way Jon’s furrowed brows melt into something entirely else lets Martin think that he’s not as much a burden as he feared.

Cautiously, Jon reaches for the bracelets, stopping mid-air to throw another glance at Martin who can’t stop himself from making a weird combination of nodding and shrugging.

Jon takes the two bracelets out of their box and Martin throws the empty box into a drawer underneath the counter. He runs them through his fingers, feeling the texture of the yarn and the structure of the fish braid pattern. Pocketing the salmon pink bracelet, he extends his right arm with the teal-coloured one towards Martin, asking: “Could you tie it?”

The uncoiling of the knot right underneath Martin’s midriff makes Martin smile and he takes the bracelet out of Jon’s hand to tie it around Jon’s wrist. He miscalculated quite a bit with his own wrist as reference, but he is able to comfortably wrap the bracelet around Jon’s wrist two times, before he ties it into a loose knot. The colour looks nice against the warm undertone of Jon’s skin and up-close Martin can see the smaller and bigger moles scattered across his lower arm.

Martin’s not sure if it is he who lets go of Jon’s arm first or Jon who takes his arm back, but he knows that he looks up from where he held Jon’s wrist just a few seconds ago and catches sight of Jon looking at him. It’s not a look Martin can decipher. As so often, Jon looks like he’s trying to make sense out of something Martin has said or done. (Or maybe he’s trying to make sense out of Martin as a whole. The same way Martin is still trying to grasp the essence of Jon.)

“This is really nice,” Jon says, and it sounds more like he’s turning every word three or four times before releasing it into the air between them; like he’s somehow forcing the words out after analysing and approving them, because they don’t want to be heard. But the way he cradles his wrist and the bracelet with such great care and a little disbelief shows clearly that he’s serious. Jon’s eyes snap upwards to look at Martin again, and Jon adds: “Thank you, Martin. That’s really,” he draws in a breath, “considerate.”

Not sure if he should dismiss Jon’s words or not, Martin ducks his head and turns towards the register: “Decaf or Regular?”

“Surprise me,” Jon replies with a shrug of his shoulders. Martin tilts his head in confusion and Jon clarifies: “Gerry and Georgie think I drink too much coffee, but I don’t necessarily like them interfering with my life choices, so we made the deal that every time we drink coffee together, we order one decaf and one regular and it’s a surprise who gets to drink the decaf.”

Chuckling lowly, Martin retorts: “That’s a nice tradition.”

Jon pays for his coffee and Martin turns around, reaching for the decaf beans, safely out of Jon’s sight. For the taste, he adds much more ground coffee than Elias normally allows him to use and sprinkles a bit of cocoa powder on top of the milk foam. Then he hands Jon the final product and smiles.

Their fingers almost touch when Jon takes the mug out of Martin’s hands and he starts to walk away for two and a half steps, before he turns back again and asks: “When does your shift end?”

“Oh,” Martin throws a glance at the clock behind him, “in about an hour? Why?”

Jon shifts his weight and replies: “I thought I could use a walk, and that, maybe, you could use a walk, too?”

This seems to cost even more surmounting than thanking Martin, but it fills Martin with warmth and the hope that Jon doesn’t hate him. (He should know by now that Jon doesn’t hate him, they’ve been friendly for quite a time now, but the fear that Jon [or anyone, really] could suddenly decide that Martin is too much and too overbearing is prevalent.)

He swallows all that down and says: “Yes, I’d like that.”

When Melanie and Georgie get together, Martin’s not entirely surprised. Actually, he’s not surprised at all because Jon himself has told Martin that Melanie had asked him about his feelings for Georgie. (I don’t get it, Martin, do I look like I would begrudge them their relationship? Do I look like a fragile thing that needs to be coddled? No, Gerry, shut it.) But part of Martin wonders if Jon’s really as alright with the situation as he makes it out to be. As far as Martin knows, Jon and Georgie had been dating for quite a while, and Melanie is Jon’s soulmate. It must be a horribly awkward situation to be in.

Somehow this hasn’t kept them from hanging out as a group, though. Melanie and Georgie are lying in the shadow of a tree, while Sasha and Tim rampage through the water, and Jon and Martin, they sit on the small landing stage, their feet dangling in the water.

Jon’s hand is resting right next to Martin’s and it would be so easy to reach out and grab it, to intertwine their fingers and just enjoy the weight of Jon’s hand in his. But they have never done something like this, Jon is an untouchable entity in the night sky, beautiful like the milky way but foreign and unjudgeable with his disconcerting stares and assessing questions and brutally honest words. And a mere mortal like Martin can’t just reach for the hand of a natural phenomenon like Jon Sims.

So, he takes his hands into his lap instead to keep himself from doing something ill-considered like taking Jon’s hand anyways.

For a moment, they watch Sasha and Tim, but when they head back to the picknick blanket Georgie and Jon had brought and where Georgie and Melanie are leisurely sitting, Jon indicates that they could go back to the others, too. So, they get up and walk back to the others. (Martin’s hand twitching to reach for Jon’s.)

“No way! You’re lying!” Tim’s voice is barely more than a whisper, while he’s scrubbing his hair as dry as possible with a towel.

Sasha’s hand reaches out for Tim’s ankle to direct his attention to her, and she says while signing simultaneously: “Nobody can hear shit of what you’re saying.”

“Louder?” Tim asks and it’s obvious that he tries to adjust his volume. But Sasha shakes her head. “Louder?” Sasha shakes her head again and Tim waves dismissively, before he continues to towel dry his hair.

“What’s going on?” Martin says, sitting down next to Sasha, quietly marvelling at the fact that Jon sits down next to him even though the space doesn’t necessarily allow it.

Melanie’s cheeks redden (a foreign and unsettling sight, if Martin is honest), and she seems to think about her answer for a moment, before she finally extends her legs, showcasing multiple sets of names written on her skin. Sasha’s, Tim’s, Georgie’s and Martin’s. But most prominently right in the middle Jonathan Sims in the same curvy scripture as the rest, but instead of a felt tip marker, it seems to come from under Melanie’s skin.

“Oh,” Jon says right next to Martin and Martin thinks: Oh, indeed.

That is, however, where the similarities between Jon and Martin end, because while Martin starts to panic at the obvious evidence of Melanie’s and Jon’s soulbond, Jon says: “Georgie, this is your handwriting.”

“Yes, it is,” Georgie replies cheerily, before pointing at the crook of her arm. “And you know what? That’s Melanie’s handwriting.”

“Congratulations,” Jon deadpans, but Martin can feel the rigid line of Jon’s shoulders relax.

Just for a moment, though, because Georgie says: “And you know what that means, Jon! There’s still someone out there waiting to be found by you!” And Jon is as tense as before.

“I hope not,” Jon replies, and Martin can’t help himself hoping that Jon is right. Because Melanie turning out not to be Jon’s soulmate doesn’t automatically turn Martin into Jon’s soulmate. Martin doesn’t even know what’s written on Jon’s body, and even if he knew he’s not sure he could remember the first thing he ever said to Jon.

Georgie only smiles, used to Jon’s antiques and clearly mentally occupied.

“You’re making such a big deal out of it,” Tim says while turning his C.I. back on. The volume of his voice adjusting to an appropriate level when he’s finally able to hear himself again. “Out of anything, really. Why don’t you just enjoy the knowledge that somewhere out there is someone who enjoys talking to you, like, without any obligation.”

Out of Jon’s sight, Georgie starts a countdown (three – two – one!) with her fingers, and as if she had given Jon a sign, he goes on a tangent about determinism. Martin has never been as in love with Jon.

Oh.

MartiniKolada: sos

MyKeaymicalRomance: what did you do?

MartiniKolada: i had an oh. oh. moment MartiniKolada: you know where you think oh. and then it hits you like oh. but it’s italic and the italicity of the moment hits you right in the face??

MyKeaymicalRomance: i don’t think italicity is a real word

MartiniKolada: italicness then??

MyKeaymicalRomance: maybe italicisation?

MartiniKolada: does it really matter???

MyKeaymicalRomance: probably not lol

MartiniKolada: as i was saying MartiniKolada: i just had the mortifying realisation that i think i love jon?? like, not likelike but lovelove?? and idk what to do, like, what WILL i do next? burst into a song or into tears??

MyKeaymicalRomance: oh, well, i think it’s probably too early to tell him

MartiniKolada: “probably” he says

MyKeaymicalRomance: well, what do you want me to say?

MartiniKolada: idk???

MyKeaymicalRomance: do you want me to come over after my class?

MartiniKolada: yes pls ))):

MyKeaymicalromance: k

#10

It’s October, and their semester break is over in two weeks. Martin’s already dreading having to go back to courses and classes because he’s not sure if the last few weeks of seeing Jon almost every day are over if they both have to pick up work again. (The good thing is that the others will come back from their visits home. Martin doesn’t know how it happened, but he’s grown close to Gerry and Jon’s squad and actually misses them.)

Now, however, he concentrates on the fact that Jon asked if he would like to stay overnight because Gerry’s away and he doesn’t want to be alone tonight. He said It’s eerily quiet and Martin didn’t need more to say Yes, I mean, yeah, no problem, I’d love to. Because: It’s not like Martin regrets agreeing to Jon’s request, it’s more that Martin’s utterly overwhelmed with the thought that he is going to spend time sleeping in the same room as Jon. (Embarrassing, right?)

“You seem distracted,” Jon states and reaches for the mousepad to pause the film they’re watching. Or in Martin’s case: attempt to watch.

It’s not a new development that Jon and Martin sit on Jon’s bed, huddled close together, to watch a movie or play a two-player game Jon has found on his hard drive. But it being old news doesn’t prevent Martin from marvelling at the way Jon’s thin frame fits in neatly with the curve of Martin’s fat stomach and thigh. And the way Jon seems to melt into Martin over the course of one evening, almost liquified at the end, nestled into Martin in a manner that Martin couldn’t recreate if he tried to; absolutely unretractable when Martin tries to reconstruct how he could find himself in a situation like this.

“A bit,” Martin agrees, studying the cursor now resting on the nose of the protagonist. “It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t want to watch a film, we don’t have to,” Jon says and it’s only because they’ve been spending so much time together that Martin recognises the defensive tone of Jon’s voice as concern. (A few months back he would have definitively thought that he had done something wrong and that Jon is annoyed with him. And the knowledge that the anxiety coiling underneath his midriff is with great certainty unfounded and only fabricated by his own brain makes warmth spread through his whole chest.)

“No, it’s alright, really, it’s nothing,” Martin repeats placatingly, already reaching for the mousepad to unpause the film.

But Jon catches his wrist mid-air and says lowly: “I hate when you do that.”

“What?” Martin’s hand sinks until it hits his stomach, but Jon’s hand remains wrapped around Martin’s wrist as if he needed to keep Martin by his side; as if Martin could somehow muster up the volition to get up and go.

Jon’s gaze is entirely on the junction of their skin, probably focusing on the way Martin’s skin tone clashes with the salmon pink of one of the two bracelets Jon’s wearing tonight. (Or probably not because Jon doesn’t really care for things like that.)

“Well,” Jon says to Martin’s wrist, “when you say it’s nothing even though it’s clearly something.”

Self-consciously, Martin contemplates for a hot second telling Jon the truth. That he just likes being with him even though Jon doesn’t feel the same way as Martin. That he likes how they fit together like matching salt and pepper shakers. That he likes the firmness of Jon’s hand around his when Jon excitedly grabs Martin’s hand and forgets to let go again. That he likes Jon’s distracted (and to be honest distracting) soliloquies and overexcited monologues.

Being honest, however, isn’t worth the awkwardness that will most likely be the result of confessing his feelings, so Martin deflects: “That implies that you’re always telling me right away when something’s bothering you. But that’s not what you do, is it?”

Jon pulls a face. “No.” He sighs. “No, it’s not.”

Without thinking, Jon shifts the weight of Martin’s wrist in his as if he’s trying to feel for Martin’s pulse. For a moment, they’re both silent, dwelling on thoughts they’re not ready to share, yet. Or maybe only Martin’s not ready to share, yet, because Jon concedes softly: “You’re right. So, if I were to share a matter that has been on my mind lately, would it be more encouraging or pressuring for you to hear about it?”

Martin weighs both options, partially occupied with the way Jon’s still holding onto his pulse. Then he concludes: “Both, probably? I mean, it could be both.”

“Do you want me to tell you anyway?” Jon asks, lifting his gaze and focusing on Martin’s face. (Jon has this incredibly unsettling habit of looking at people at precisely those moments it’s the most disconcerting, gaze unwavering and the only thing betraying his own nervousness is the way he fiddles with the hem of his sleeves or the jittery tapping of his fingers against the fabric of his trousers.)

And since Martin can’t refuse Jon anything, he nods.

“You know, this is probably ridiculous and you’re going to make fun of me, endlessly,” Jon says, a barely visible crinkle appearing between his brows, “but Georgie said that she doesn’t understand why we haven’t kissed, yet. And it’s been on my mind ever since. Should we be kissing, Martin?”

Martin almost chokes on air. “What?” He must have misheard. Or misunderstood. Because it’s absolutely impossible that Jon said this particular string of words without any hesitation.

“Well,” Jon says, obviously growing uncomfortable, “I told her that she should stop being presumptuous, because if you would want to kiss me you would say as much. But Georgie said she wouldn’t be surprised if you were to think that I’m kiss averse as some asexual people are and that you were ‘too bashful’ to ask for clarification.” Jon breathes in and out, once, then twice. Martin’s trying hard not to mcfucking lose it. “We’ve been dating for quite some time now and I hope you’d feel comfortable enough to ask me things like that instead of assuming my stance. However, I do see now that I should put my own house in order first rather than waiting for you to say something.” The crinkle between his brows smooths out. “So, the quintessence is that I would like to kiss you, Martin, and that I would like to know if you were amenable to this idea.”

Owlishly blinking, Martin tries to make sense of all the admittedly beautiful but absolutely impossible words that Jon has said just now. He’s not sure which part he should be concentrating on and his thoughts crash into each other, tumbling onto his tongue, only to get buried underneath a new load of thoughts just a nanosecond later.

The thing that actually makes it past Martin’s stupor is: “We’ve been what?”

Jon furrows his brows again and replies slowly: “Dating.”

“And you didn’t think I needed to know that??” Martin’s voice cracks, eyes wide and cheeks reddened. The pressure of Jon’s fingers around his wrist loosens and Martin wants nothing more than to hold on dearly, but at the moment he can’t do anything but stare at Jon’s face that shifts slowly into a look of embarrassment.

“Well, I thought– I didn’t,” he groans lowly. “I thought you knew.”

“How should I have known?” Martin doesn’t really want to argue about this, but the words tumble out of his mouth, absolutely unstoppable. “Did you send me a formal enquiry? Ask me to be your boyfriend while we were doing incredibly romantic things like shopping groceries? I would have said yes, don’t get me wrong, this is not a ‘I don’t want to be dating you’ because I do very much want to date you.”

Martin’s breath goes hard, and he attempts to focus on the blush that bloomed on Jon’s cheeks sometime around the mention of Martin calling himself Jon’s boyfriend and that deepened further when Martin stressed that he wanted to be Jon’s boyfriend as well. But then Jon’s smiling. Not a barely visible lift of the corners of his lips but a genuine smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“I think,” Jon says, shifting the weight of Martin’s wrist again, so he can intertwine their fingers completely, “that everything we do together is inherently very romantic. Even grocery shopping.”

“Oh, my god,” Martin tries to hold back a giggle and fails, “you’re a sap! This is unbelievable. This should be illegal.” He wriggles his other hand out of the almost non-existing space between them and cups Jon’s hand in both of his. “You can’t just spring the fact on me that we’re dating, only to change your behaviour a hundred and eighty degrees and say things like, things like that!”

“I’m only adapting,” Jon replies, lifting Martin’s hands and pulling them in close. “I thought we were taking it slow because you never made a first move, and I didn’t want to be too much.”

“Then we’re in the same boat, huh,” Martin says while he’s watching Jon pressing small kisses on Martin’s knuckles. “So, what do we learn from this, Jon? Don’t talk to Georgie about those things, come talk to me.”

Jon snorts. “You’re one to talk. I can’t count the times Gerry told me to ‘go get my man he’s pining again.’ It was embarrassing.”

“Imagine how embarrassing that is for me?! I was literally gay on main while he thought we were already dating?!” Martin makes a suffering noise at the back of his throat, but Jon doesn’t stop pressing small kisses into his knuckles, so it’s not as bad as it could be. “We need to cut ties with Gerry but that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“No, that’s feasible,” Jon replies. “Very sensible.” He puts down their intertwined hands. “A thing that would be very sensible, too, is telling me about the reason you were distracted earlier.”

“It seems ridiculous now,” Martin says, but Jon nudges him with his shoulder to prompt him to go on. “I just thought about how hard it is to sit next to you and not kiss you.”

Jon lifts himself up on his elbow and murmurs: “That is a lie, Martin K. Blackwood.”

“Only half of it,” Martin replies softly, before he closes the gap between them and kisses Jon with as much care as he can conjure.

(The light shove Martin gets when he asks “so, we’re boyfriends now, huh?” is definitely deserved.)

#the magnus archives #fanfiction #jonmartin #jon sims x martin blackwood #wtgfs on the side #dating without knowing #softness #pure and unadultered softness #college au #schmok writes #i forgot to post this back in the day but since tma ends today #FLUFF for all of you!!

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rasoir-national · 5 years

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Horror and format use

@ghostplantss I don't know anything abt podcasts or horror and i'm curious what you think?

Right, so it took me a couple of days to figure out how I wanted to answer that, and it turns out I really want to talk about Horror and use of medium so I’m going to ramble about that.

So. I. Love. Horror. Note that I say horror and not “the horror genre” because while you can consider that horror has become a solidified genre, my interests go deeper than that. I think I’ve mentioned my mother is a psychiatrist, and so I grew up hearing the concepts of “ego”, “perversion” and such thrown around, but there’s one in particular that always fascinated me : the Id.

If you don’t know, according to Freud’s theorization of the human psyche, it can be fragmented in 3 parts : the “ego”, that’s to say, the conscious self, the “superego”, the learned (social) restrictions imposed upon one self, and the Id. The Id, or “subconscious self” is sort of the primal self made entirely of pulsions, both “good” and “bad” according to social standards, but absolutely unpoliced by them. There are two essential pulsions, “pulsion of life” and “pulsion of death”, that tug and warp around each other, forming both the basis of our survival instinct, and our primal penchant for annihilation (of the self and others). Unconscious desires, latent fears, dreams and nightmares, “appel du vide” as we say in french for the sudden inexplicable desire you can feel atop a cliff to jump, all these stem from the Id. I know Freud gets a bad rap nowadays, and his own application of his theories have been completely invalidated by modern psychoanalysis, but he was the first person to say that it was okay to have those pulsions, that they didn’t make you “wrong” or a bad person. And what’s more, they didn’t even define you. He was the first to put in theory the idea that there’s a part of us we aren’t entirely in control of, that we don’t entirely understand.

Why am I saying all this ? Well, I think everything we think of as “horror” ultimately comes down to this very idea : there is something within us that we do not understand. And I’m fascinated by that. I’m fascinated by the unknown, the unsaid, the inexplicable, the dark side of the moon, whatever you want to call it. I’m fascinated by both our fear and our desire to understand it. And what good horror does, is allow us to explore this “something” and our relation to it through metaphor, storytelling and catharsis.

From childhood, we are bathed in horrific stories. It’s common knowledge nowadays that fairytales are a way to allow children to confront their deepest fears and desires in a safe, metaphorical manner, and “exorcise” them in order to learn social constructs and become a functioning adult. But I think we never stop craving that feeling, the confrontation with the inexplicable in a manner safe enough for us to enjoy.

That’s why I love horror. More precisely, that’s why I love every form of horror. I think any art medium can be defined by two things : what it can do and what it cannot do. A book can put words onto a feeling, but it cannot picture that feeling. A melody can convey emotions through sound, but not words. We can talk and draw pictures about both, but the medium itself is limited to the very tools that make it what it is. Or, to put it another way : for every medium, there is something it cannot fully express. Does that remind you of anything ?

Horror is, I think, the most interesting way to study the differences between forms of media, precisely because it relies so much on what cannot be explained, what attracts us, what we fear, the very limits of our ability to comprehend the world and ourselves. Take movies, one the most multimedia form of storytelling : what makes a good horror movie ? If you’ve ever seen any, you know the fear doesn’t come from what you can see or describe but from what you cannot. There’s this common wisdom that whatever you can put onscreen, it will never be as scary as what the audience can imagine, or rather, fail to imagine. The unknown is more potent than the known.

So horror movies are great, and if you want I’ll make a list of my favourites on occasion. But what if we now take a medium that’s more constricted than movies are ? Now you have to work with the fact that something you could show, or describe, or put into music, or all three, onscreen, can now only be some of those things. In Art, I think we don’t give enough credit to the creative benefits of limitations : if I can’t draw something, I’m going to have to work extra hard to get you to picture it without images. The more you are not allowed to do things, the more you’re going to invent new ways to convey what you mean.

And that can go for limitations we don’t even think about. Take one of my favourite examples, comics and manga. What makes them different from movies ? They have no sound, but also, instead of an image moving into the next on its own, it’s the reader who’s in control of when or if they turn the page. That factor, the “page turn”, is a limitation, but that’s also something that’s unique to comics ; in written books, the effect is not the same, as we cannot process a page of written text as fast as we can an image on a page. And some artists have used that limitation to enhance the effect they were going for. The master of the horror manga, Junji Ito, is I think best known for his page turners. In horror especially, you have to deal with the fact that some images alone are capable of disturbing and shocking you. In movies, there images come to you, for example in the form of a jump scare. But in comics... You’re the one theoretically in control of the page. You can close the book. You can especially close it if you know, thanks to codes of storytelling, that on the next page is something quite horrific. But if the book is good... ? You’ll have to turn the page, because you have to know. The author puts you in control of the images you’ll see, then puts you in the situation where you willingly choose to scare and shock yourself. That’s taking a limitation, and turning it into a way to enhance the effect you’re going for.

So this brings us to podcasts, and the sort of horror revival they brought. Horror has a long history with the ancestor of the medium, the radio, for obvious reasons. If we again define a podcast via its limitations, what do we get ? This is a medium without pictures, only spoken words and sounds, and it’s an episodic medium. So what you have to work with are voices, music, sound, and, equally important, the fact that you’re in control of how much you give your listeners every time, and how much time there is between what you give. All of these are considerable assets if your goal is horror.

Take Welcome to Night Vale. Its shtick is pretty simple if you break it down, and is two-faced. First, it is, in-universe, a radio program, and second, it cannot be pictured. Let’s start with the second part : the genius of Welcome to Night, and what I think every story should aspire to, is that it couldn’t be told better in another format. The characters and stories in Night Vale cannot be pictured. They can only be described. Sure, you can make fanart, but “the glow cloud” will never be better represented than it can be described. You can draw “the faceless old woman that secretely lives in your home”, but it won’t ever truly be the faceless old woman that truly lives in your home. This is horror that’s entirely reliant on the non-superposition of words and representation : our language can express things that cannot be pictured. And if you think about it, that’s incredibly scary. The second part of the schtick is the magical realism aspect of the podcast, as in, the apparent normality with which all these “abnormal” things are described in the context of a radio program, creating for the listener a warped sense of perception : what are you supposed to fear ? When should you be afraid ? I should make a separate post of magical realism, remind me someday.

As for the Magnus Archives, I’ve now listened to the first season in its entirety so I have more of a grasp on it. I had a bit of a problem with the first season, which was that it had one foot in magical realism, and the other in the fantastical, two genres that are pretty much the opposite of one another, without really seeming to decide where it wanted to stand. It’s got more of a footing now, for reasons I won’t discuss in order not to spoil you. But one of the elements I like about it is its use of multiple layers of storytelling. The shtick of TMA is the fact that statements containing short horror stories are being audiorecorded by a professional archivist for research purposes on some old tapes. As the story develop, we learn more about their place of employment, their colleagues, and what might more largely be going on. Again, we take a limitation of the medium : you can’t tell when what you’re listening to has been recorded or if what has been recorded is all that happened. And you use this element of ignorance to play with your audience : when has the story you’re listening to been written ? When did it happen ? When is it recorded ? What happened in the meantime ? If the person who wrote it and the person who records it have different points of view, how does this come into play ? What else might be recorded onto the tapes ? As I said, I’m only a fourth of the way caught up right now, but I can already see them making use of all those elements.

So yeah, hopefully this gives you an idea of the way I enjoy horror, and gives you more of an appreciation for it yourself. Some actual recs if you want to get started while I’m at it :

- The Night of the Hunter (1955 movie) : not “technically a horror movie”, but absolutely a horrific one in its use of black and white

- The soundtrack to Suspiria (1977 movie) by the band Goblins : I adore the film, but listening to the soundtrack on its own is also an interesting experience

- The Silent Hill game series (especially Silent Hill 2 and 3) : video games is, I think, the most multimedia format, and taking into account the fact the player is in control of the character, makes for some of the most creative horror ever

- The Haunting of Hill House series : tons of things have been said about it, I’d say look at the way it uses framing and editing

- Francis Bacon’s paintings : a huge inspiration for the Silent hill series, probably the best example for horror that can be represented but not described

- Junji Ito’s Uzumaki : the masterpiece of horror mangas ; pay attention to the weight of a page turn

- Emily Carroll’s Through the woods : fantastic horror comic that uses the fairytale format

- Sarah Waters’ Let the right one in : one of my favourite horror novels, pay attention to the use of narration and subjectivity

Aight, I think that’s enough rambling for me. Hope I’ve answered your curiosity !

#horror #tma #wtnv #tw: freud

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theradioghost · 6 years

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The Mechanisms

Or, an attempted quasi-masterpost/crash course of content for the gay mythical dieselpunk space pirate band we all deserve in our lives.

The Story

A spacefaring vampire mad scientist and aspiring musican known as Dr. Carmilla once created a group of quasi-mechanical immortals to serve as her backing band. The doc has since has an “accident” with an airlock, but her creations, the Mechanisms, are still driven to perform. So, in their living starship Aurora, they travel the universe, looking for fun if possible, violence when necessary, and hopefully both at once; and performing the stories of what they’ve seen over their long lives.

These stories don’t tend to end happily.

OR, the Mechanisms were a musical cabaret act who performed scifi-genre-mashups which combined spoken-word storytelling and music in queer retellings of myths and fairy tales, in character as a band of morally questionable space pirates. And it’s great.

Crew members included:

Jonny D’Ville, captain first mate and storyteller, former murderous gunslinger with a cold mechanical heart

Ashes O’Reilly, quartermaster and firestarter from the mobster planet Mallone with a pair of mechanical lungs

Drumbot Brian, pilot, launched into space by an uncomprehending world, entirely mechanical except his heart (which now comes with “ends justify means” and “means justify ends” settings)

Gunpowder Tim, master-at-arms, who destroyed the Earth’s moon in the war against the Moon Kaiser three hundred years in the future ago and was given new eyes by the crew

Nastya Rasputina, engineer and last surviving princess (after the Revolution) of the Cyberian empire, dating the ship

Ivy Alexandria, archivist and navigator, with a mechanical brain that remembers everything except her own former life,

Baron Marius von Raum, doctor, not a baron, not a doctor

Raphaella la Cognizi, science officer, has wings, plays piano

The Toy Soldier. Exactly what it says on the tin.

The octokittens.

There may have also been a ninja at some point? I’m honestly not sure?

In late 2019, the Mechs announced that the band would be calling it quits, and they played their final two shows in January of 2020, resulting in the bittersweet and ignoble deaths of the once-immortal crew of the starship Aurora.

Music: aka, Where Can I Listen?

There are 4 main Mechanisms albums, 2 Tales To Be Told collections, and one single. You can buy the whole discography for £5+ pay-what-you-want on their Bandcamp here, which I thoroughly recommend. You can also listen to them on Spotify and on their official Youtube channel!

Tales to be Told and Tales to be Told Vol. II include the backstory songs of many of the crewmembers, as well as some of their other standalone adventures and tales, and a couple of songs tied to the other albums.

Once Upon a Time in Outer Space is Grimmsian fairy tales and nursery rhymes reinterpreted as a sci-fi tragedy about the rebellion against cruel tyrant Old King Cole, lead by Cole’s former general Snow White. Snow’s sister, the warrior Rose, was kidnapped by Cole to be cloned into his unstoppable army, and both Snow and Rose’s bride-to-be Cinders are desperate to free her and overthrow Cole. And then the Mechanisms show up... I often use Our Boy Jack as a song to introduce people to the band.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn is a cyberpunk noir retelling of the Odyssey and assorted Greek myth. In a city that covers a world, where the minds of the dead are imprisoned by the ruling Olympians to run the vast Acheron computer network, bitter war veteran Ulysses is the only one who may have found a way to escape. So, a quartet of menacing Suits have been sent to get the secret out of them -- and out of their strange underground vault -- by any means necessary.

High Noon Over Camelot, an Arthurian space western featuring trans Mordred, polyamorous and morally questionable gunslingers Arthur/Lancelot/Guinevere, Drumbot Brian as a decaying metal Merlin, slightly mad preacher-man Galahad, many good intentions, and few good results; all trapped within an abandoned space station in failing orbit around a star, all hoping to find the mysterious GRAIL in time.

The Bifrost Incident is their cosmic-horror locked-room-mystery take on Norse myth. After leaving for its three-day maiden voyage with all the high and mighty of Asgard onboard and then vanishing for 80 years, Old Lady Odin’s Ratatosk Express has finally arrived, and it’s up to Inspector Lyfrassir Edda to pick apart the black box recordings and discover what really happened. (Notably includes space revolutionary wives Loki and Sigyn, as well as a track where Jonny makes an invocation to Yog-Sothoth sound good somehow.)

and Frankenstein, a single telling the story of Victoria Frankenstein and the AI she built, and how it goes wrong.

In addition, the livestream of their final concert, Death to the Mechanisms, is viewable on their YouTube channel. Said concert also features the amazing Reesha Dyer, whose music can be found here. (As of Feb. 6, 2020, the available version of the livestream cuts out much of the second half of the show; apparently there are alternate versions coming soon.)

More Content Please?

The band’s official site contains profiles of crew members, lyrics for many of their songs, original fiction set in the Mechanisms universe, and other assorted goodies.

If you never had the chance to see them live, the TV Tropes page actually explains a lot of their live show content, as well as more about the crew and the stories.

And if that’s not enough, here’s a YT playlist of many live videos of their shows, including full performances! There’s a lot that doesn’t go on the albums (although I recommend listening to the proper recordings first). Well worth watching to see their antics in-character. (There is not, as far as I know, any full video of High Noon Over Camelot; there is a video of The Bifrost Incident, but as of writing this I don’t have a good link to it.)

& of course there’s the band’s official Twitter and Tumblr, the latter of which in particular contains many delicious and exclusive tidbits.

Related Media & Other Projects By The Crew

Having apparently survived her airlock accident, Dr. Carmilla also has her own music (and describes her musical style as “Retrospective Futuristic Visual Kei”).

The Toy Soldier (Jessica Law) has her own Bandcamp and a mailing list here!

Raphaella (R. L. Hughes) has her own Bandcamp.

Drumbot Brian releases music as Ben Below and Phonovoltaic.

Gunpowder Tim and Brian make music with the company Softwire.

Marius has his own Bandcamp.

Raphaella and the Drumbot have released some music about sad robots under the name Overclockwork.

Jonny D’Ville (Jonny Sims) co-runs a TTRPG company, MacGuffin & Co, whose settings and scenarios I can personally highly recommend. He also writes some kind of podcast.

#my posts #radio free ilium #bobbie recommends things

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staircasttext · 3 years

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Ep 08 Transcript: Twenty to Thirty Feral Cats

Episode 8

[intro music]

PAZ: Hi everyone. Welcome back again to Stairway to StarClan, a Warrior Cats reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: And I'm Liz.

PAZ: And I did almost forget the name of our podcast in the middle of saying that. So off to a strong start. Yeah, we are here today starting Fire and Ice, the second book in-- I guess it's just called the... I've also forgotten what the first books--

JULIAN: I think it's The Prophecy Begins is the name of the series.

PAZ: That is. I have my old version so I don't think it even says that. I mean, I guess I should say this is the book at which I have never read past for The Prophecy Begins, so this is uncharted territory for me in terms of details of what happens, beyond just like broad plot points. So that's exciting.

JULIAN: Yeah, we're also getting into the-- like, I read all these books multiple times, but I don't remember what happens in which book, so.

PAZ: Yeah, like some of the major plot points I know that do come up, I've been trying to figure out like what book I think that happens in. I'm like, I have no fucking clue. I don't really even know-- well, I know it's in this book but I don't know if that will just be the whole book. Well anyway, we read it. We started reading it. We're all gonna find out together. Anyone else want to add anything before the summaries?

LIZ: Yeah, I want to look for one second at the Allegiances area, cause there's some great descriptions. "Fireheart, handsome ginger tom. Graystripe, long-haired solid gray tom." Why is he called Graystripe then? What the fuck?

JULIAN: I always thought all the official art was like wrong because he didn't have any stripes in it. But it turns out that fuckin apparently he doesn't have stripes.

LIZ: What?

PAZ: Are they like metaphorical stripes. What happened?

LIZ: Are they military stripes?

PAZ: Oh no.

JULIAN: Maybe they thought the stripes would kind of like come in when he got older.

PAZ: Wow, Bluestar's really betting on that, huh? Didn't happen.

LIZ: She's playing the long game. You know, she's just got that big mastermind brain. Except when she doesn't. There's one more and it's for one of the the older cats, and it's gonna come up later. Let me see here. Yeah, there's Dappletail, "a once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat." They do this to her at least two times. She was once beautiful. Hey. Come on.

PAZ: It reminds me of that Cats character.

JULIAN: Oh yeah, fuckin...

PAZ: The one who sings Memory.

JULIAN: Grizabella, the glamour cat.

PAZ: Yeah, Dappletail the glamour cat.

JULIAN: What do you have against aging gracefully, Erin Hunter?

LIZ: Yeah, all cats are beautiful to me.

JULIAN: All cats are queens.

PAZ: Yes.

JULIAN: Including Dappletail.

PAZ: Yes. I think old cats can be very cute.

LIZ: Yeah, again, look at Chloe.

JULIAN: Chloe.

LIZ: Chloe.

JULIAN: I was also excited to see in the Allegiances that Barley, Smudge, and Ravenpaw are all listed.

PAZ: Yes.

LIZ: Yay.

JULIAN: Spoilers, I guess, but it's also in the front of the book, so.

LIZ: Spoilers.

PAZ: Yeah, they do that sometimes. They do that every time. Aw, Smudge's description is so cute. "Plump, friendly black and white kitten who lives in the house at the edge of the forest."

JULIAN: I don't think he's a kitten anymore.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: He and Fireheart are the same age.

PAZ: Well, his balls are gone so he's an everkit or whatever the hell that was.

LIZ: Is that what happened?

PAZ: We found that like cat slur somewhere.

LIZ: That doesn't mean he stops aging.

PAZ: Well, I don't know. I don't know what perspective Allegiances is written from.

LIZ: You know, whoever wrote this, hundreds of years in the cat future, the weird archivist doing this had some very strange views about age. You know, after cats have learned to write.

JULIAN: Right.

PAZ: Yeah, right.

JULIAN: With their little paws.

PAZ: Oh my god, there's a RiverClan person called Loudbelly.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: I love that.

LIZ: So good.

PAZ: That's a great name.

LIZ: Wait. Right below is there's a warrior called Whiteclaw.

PAZ: The description is just "a dark warrior." Period.

JULIAN: Why is he fucking named Whiteclaw?

LIZ: Maybe he's got little white socks.

JULIAN: Oh, that would be good.

PAZ: Oh, yes. I like that.

LIZ: Or maybe he just you know, likes hard seltzer.

JULIAN: I feel like hard seltzer didn't exist as a thing when this was written in like...

PAZ: No. Two thousand--

JULIAN: 2005 or whatever.

PAZ: Yeah. Okay, when did this come out? I think it might have actually come out the same year as the first one or like the year immediately after.

LIZ: Really.

PAZ: It came out, like really close together. I remember being--

LIZ: If you poured like vodka into a carbonator, would that be anything? Is that scientifically like viable?

JULIAN: Oh, yeah. Publish date 27 May 2003. Um, let's see. Carbonated vodka. I don't know if the alcohol would hold carbonation well.

LIZ: Probably not.

JULIAN: Um, nope. Someone did put-- here's a YouTube video. Someone put vodka in their Sodastream. Uh, yeah, it's possible. I think it probably doesn't taste good.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: I don't think you should carbonate anything. That's my stance.

JULIAN: You don't like the bubbles?

PAZ: No, I don't.

LIZ: Give them to me.

JULIAN: I love the sharp water.

LIZ: Me too, handshake.

PAZ: I don't like the bone hurting juice.

LIZ: I don't know. It feels-- sometimes your bones need some hurting. It's medicinal.

PAZ: Mmkay. Anyway, I think we're-- oh yes.

JULIAN: We've gotten wildly off topic.

LIZ: But just as a heads up, it's currently thundering where I live, so adds to the vibe, but also--

JULIAN: It'll be atmospheric.

LIZ: Yeah. But if you hear any, like rumbling in the background, I hope you don't, but that's what it is.

PAZ: I hope your power stays on.

LIZ: Me too.

PAZ: Well, let's dive into this then, just to get into it. Okay, so moving on to the summaries. This week, we read the prologue through chapter 3 of Fire and Ice. So the prologue opens on an unknown group of cats huddled near the Thunderpath within range of a Twoleg campfire. The cats are led by Tallstar, revealing them to be the exiled WindClan cats. The WindClan cats are still searching for a new home since being driven from their territory. The other cats in the clan voiced their concerns for themselves and the kits, but Tallstar decides that they have no choice but to settle in this barren area. The cats find a tunnel underneath what appears to be a highway overpass and take shelter there, having no other choices.

Chapter 1 then opens immediately following the last scene of Into the Wild, where Fireheart and Graystripe are completing their silent vigil. The book recaps the events of the previous book through Fireheart's internal monologue a lot. After their vigil, Sandpaw and Dustpaw get a scene where they are clearly displeased that the younger apprentices were made warriors first. And then as Graystripe and Fireheart settle into sleep in the warriors den, Fireheart thinks about how he still has to warn Bluestar about Tigerclaw. And he then has a very vivid dream of Thunderpath and cats in front of a fire.

After a timeskip to the evening, Fireheart and Graystripe have a conversation about how Fireheart wants to warn Bluestar. Graystripe doesn't seem to believe what Ravenpaw had said, and pointed out that if Ravenpaw was right, Redtail must have killed Oakheart, which would be against the warrior code and thus an assault on the deceased deputy's honor. Fireheart decides that Graystripe can stay out of the situation, and he will handle it himself. There is then a naming ceremony in which Longtail, the cat who hated Fireheart for being a kittypet, gets a new apprentice, Swiftpaw.

The next night is the night of the Gathering, and Fireheart and Graystripe attend it as warriors. Along the way. Fireheart finally gets a chance to talk with Bluestar alone, and informs her that Ravenpaw is not dead but with Barley, which Bluestar takes well. However, when Fireheart tells her about Tigerclaw, she is less receptive, especially because it calls Redtail's honor into question. She is doubtful that Ravenpaw actually saw the murder. The conversation is interrupted by Tigerclaw, and they continue on to the Gathering. Fireheart is left off kilter and begins to doubt his own gut instincts and the words of Ravenpaw.

Chapter 2 features the first gathering after Brokenstar's exile. Bluestar introduces Yellowfang as the new ThunderClan medicine cat, and Nightpelt from ShadowClan reveals that StarClan chose him to be their new leader and will travel to the Moonstone the next night. Crookedstar then revokes ShadowClan's right to hunt in their territory, which causes tension with Nightpelt. Crookedstar and Nightpelt then agree that with WindClan gone, both clans should hunt in their territory for prey. Bluestar objects to this, saying WindClan must return because StarClan gave them four clans for a reason. Tigerclaw publicly agrees WindClan must be returned. Nightpelt concedes that he will allow WindClan to return, as does Crookedstar. But both Fireheart and Tigerclaw notice after the meeting that Crookedstar and Nightpelt seem to be scheming in private despite publicly agreeing.

And then in the last chapter, chapter 3, the ThunderClan cats discuss Nightpelt and ShadowClan back in their camp. Whitestorm suggests ShadowClan is stronger than they appeared and that Nightpelt may have high ambitions. And some other cats reveal RiverClan's river hunting grounds have been disturbed by Twolegs. Later Firepaw once again dreams of the Thunderpath and the sad cry of a young cat. He wakes up unsettled and ultimately decides it must be a commonplace nightmare.

The following morning, Bluestar calls Fireheart and Graystripe for a meeting, where she gives them the mission to find and bring WindClan cats back to the forest. They will be the only two cats on this mission. Graystripe almost lets slip to Tigerclaw that they'd taken Ravenpaw to WindClan territory not too long ago, but Fireheart covers it up. The two then visit Yellowfang in the medicine cat's den, and Fireheart has some melancholy thoughts about Spottedleaf. And then after receiving their traveling herbs, the two warriors head out in search of WindClan. And that is the end of our reading this week.

JULIAN: I thought like they do a good job of kind of recapping what you last saw on Warriors, without it being like too heavy handed. Which was nice given that for most people, there's gonna be a little bit of a wait.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah, I agree. It's pretty well done.

LIZ: Yeah, I just want to say it's a good use of Fireheart's brooding. He's got reason to.

PAZ: Yeah, I guess it also helps that, like there's literally no time in between the end of this book and-- I mean, the start of this book and the end of the last book, so I guess he's just like thinking about current events.

JULIAN: Yeah, well and I feel like we didn't get to see any of his like emotional reactions to basically anything that happened.

PAZ: Yeah, he seems to already have much more of like an internal life going on in this book than in the last book.

JULIAN: It's nice. Graystripe is also developing a little bit more of a personality, which is cute.

PAZ: Yes. He's developing the personality of like, not trusting his friend's words.

JULIAN: Well, yeah, that part sucks.

LIZ: Of a centrist?

PAZ: Yeah, he's developing the personality of a centrist. Oh, no.

JULIAN: Ugh.

PAZ: I do have a note here of "Graystripe confirmed fluffy" with a little smiley face. Cause I think there's a line about him being like long-furred or something.

JULIAN: Yeah, they're all getting fluffy for the winter.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: No, the Graystripe line that I liked was he says something about that he hopes Tigerclaw will set Sandpaw and Dustpaw to chasing blue squirrels.

PAZ: Yeah, that was cute. There's also a very, very cute moment in chapter 3. I'll just read it. "Graystripe purred briefly in his sleep as Fireheart settled besides him and closed his eyes." It's very cute.

JULIAN: Aw.

LIZ: Aw. They're still just little guys.

JULIAN: Pals.

PAZ: They're little guys curled up next to each other.

JULIAN: Excellent.

PAZ: I mean, I'm happy WindClan is getting introduced because as I've stated as a child, I was a WindClan fan. So.

JULIAN: Hell yeah.

PAZ: It's their time, and good thing because the other clans suck right now.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: I mean, do we want to go from the top? Like, from the prologue onward?

JULIAN: Yeah, with the prologue?

PAZ: Yeah. The prologue was nice. It was like very atmospheric and stuff. Um, I don't understand why humans suck so much in this universe.

JULIAN: I also have a note about like, why do the Twolegs fucking suck.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: I mean, like, I know, like, some people are mean to cats like even just out on the street. But I don't think to this degree where like every single human being is.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, it sucks so much. Everyone's so mean to these little cats.

PAZ: Unbelievable.

JULIAN: Although I will say if I saw like 20 to 30 feral cats.

PAZ: Okay, that's fair.

JULIAN: If I was just chilling in the woods and I saw 20 to 30 feral cats, I might also like, yell at them

PAZ: What's that tweet about the feral hogs?

LIZ: That's so many though. I would leave. I don't think I could take 20 to 30 feral cats. They'd just get me.

PAZ: Legit question for rural Britons? British people? I don't know what British people are called. How do I kill the 20 to 30 feral cats that run into my yard within three to five minutes while my small kids play?

JULIAN: I feel like Twolegs sucking is gonna be kind of a theme of these books.

PAZ: It definitely is.

JULIAN: Given that we're already starting to see like, oh, the Twolegs are encroaching on the forest.

LIZ: Habitat loss.

PAZ: Yeah. I am curious to see where it goes with that theme of like, are you gonna lean into like this environmental theme? I don't know where they land on the execution, but we'll see.

LIZ: We don't know it yet. But in two or three series, the humans are just gonna have a little apocalypse and die off and it's gonna be post human apocalypse cat society just like in Guardians of Gahoole. Which is just gonna be like a weird mythology that's like used to scare the little kits and stuff.

JULIAN: Right? Like, do your hunting practice or a Twoleg will get you.

LIZ: Why is the Thunderpath called that? It's so peaceful and quiet. It's still smelly though.

PAZ: This is a bold claim to make about future books. I mean, I guess we'll see, you know.

JULIAN: Liz's predictions are my favorite part.

LIZ: Yeah, it's me. I'm the medicine cat.

PAZ: But, I mean, the prologue was pretty short. It was just like some like, atmospheric scene setting. But poor WindClan, man.

JULIAN: Yeah. I feel sorry for that cat who's going to have to give birth in a storm drain.

PAZ: Right?

LIZ: No.

PAZ: I would take in these 20 to 30 feral cats and feed them.

JULIAN: Trap neuter return, guys. Cats don't have to give birth in a storm drain if they don't get pregnant.

PAZ: Taps head three times. But yeah, and then moving on to chapter 1. It's pretty long. It's just a lot of Fireheart being like, I gotta tell Bluestar again.

JULIAN: It felt like a fuckin like comedy of errors. Every time he gets up to tell her, she is like, oh, Tigerclaw is at my side now, or I'm gonna hop up on the High Rock and make an announcement. It felt very Yakety Sax.

PAZ: Yeah, it did. But you know, I'm glad he finally like got that drilled into his memory enough that it happened.

JULIAN: I was so afraid he was going to tell her about Ravenpaw and then not say anything about Tigerclaw.

PAZ: Oh, I know.

JULIAN: I thought he might chicken out at the last minute. I'm very glad that he did not.

LIZ: I couldn't take that for another book.

PAZ: A whole nother book.

LIZ: I'm glad he's got a little brain now. I'm so proud of him. Character development.

PAZ: Yeah, he does seem to be developing a bit more of a brain. It's only been like three chapters. But you know.

LIZ: Speaking of Fireheart's brain, there is this part. near the middle? The end of chapter 1 where one of the other warriors gets like an apprentice. And there is a little bit of thought there about like xenophobia.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah, Fireheart is like, wow, that guy didn't welcome me when I was a kitten. But I guess it's fine because that other kitten was born here.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: And apparently, he makes an expression cause Graystripe is like, what's with you?

PAZ: Yeah, I like that scene a lot, actually, cause it was like, wow character.

LIZ: Uh-huh. And it hasn't been that long since he was like that young. So like, this is still kind of fresh to him.

PAZ: I mean, yeah, cats age so fast. I guess it was a couple months ago.

LIZ: Yeah. He's just a little-- he's always gonna be a little guy to me.

PAZ: They do still have little guy energy.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: They're just little guys who are also xenophobic.

JULIAN: Yeah, just because they're little guys doesn't mean they can't do crimes.

PAZ: No, that's very clear. Something I didn't know, I didn't realize that killing another cat was against warrior code? Question mark?

JULIAN: Yeah, I also didn't-- I feel like they kill each other all the time.

LIZ: They do.

PAZ: I was like, uhhh. It wasn't like just killing the deputy, right? Or was it like killing in general?

LIZ: Maybe it's deputy.

PAZ: Gotta go look at Graystripe's exposition.

LIZ: Maybe it's like a political faux pas.

PAZ: Yeah, maybe.

LIZ: Because isn't their murder policy like, hey, if we see you around these parts, it's on sight?

PAZ: Yeah, I thought so.

LIZ: Right?

PAZ: Okay, what Graystripe says is, "I can't believe that Redtail would have deliberately killed another clan deputy in battle. It goes against the warrior code. We fight to prove our strength and defend our territory, not to kill each other."

JULIAN: They kill each other-- again, they kill each other all the time.

PAZ: Right?

LIZ: They really do.

PAZ: I was like, I don't think it would like drag his name through the dirt if it turns out he killed somebody. Tigerclaw says he killed Oakheart, and everyone loves him. Like what is--

JULIAN: Yeah, wait.

PAZ: What is the issue?

JULIAN: Well, I guess it was like he killed Oakheart in revenge for killing Redtail.

PAZ: I guess.

JULIAN: Would that...

PAZ: I guess that makes it better. I don't know.

JULIAN: That makes it okay.

LIZ: Revenge is fine.

PAZ: It also sucks that everyone like just does not believe Ravenpaw.

LIZ: He's done nothing wrong. He was just a little like, guy. I'm sorry I keep saying that. But he's just like, a perfectly fine like, member of the clan who was really great at like hunting snakes and stuff. What did he do wrong?

PAZ: I mean, I guess no one was like, oh, like Ravenpaw's like lying just to be mean. They were all like, maybe he just like mis-saw or he got like, anxious or something. But it's still like, I think it's like a big-- like if you like run away and like fake your death and have that accusation, I think maybe you should like consider more strongly that it might have weight behind it.

JULIAN: Right? This isn't like a fun like flirty accusation for Ravenpaw.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: It has ruined his life.

PAZ: Yeah, he had to leave his home forever.

JULIAN: I mean, it hasn't ruined his life because he's living in gay pastoral fantasy with Barley, but like, he doesn't know that.

PAZ: Yeah, he hasn't had his like rom com yet.

JULIAN: We're at still the beginning of the rom com.

PAZ: Yeah, Bluestar seems to have no brains, I think.

LIZ: Where'd they go?

PAZ: I'm very frustrated by it. Like why does she love Tigerclaw so much? Chill.

LIZ: They're not even friends. She doesn't like him.

JULIAN: His vibes are so rancid. They're so... and then for Fireheart to start doubting himself. And like Graystripe also to doubt him. Again, Graystripe, you just risked your life to rescue Ravenpaw.

PAZ: Right? I don't understand it.

LIZ: It makes Graystripe seem so like wishy-washy.

PAZ: Right? He's a centrist. He is. He's like, Oh, I don't want to say anything that would harm the clan, you know.

LIZ: Yeah, it makes his like, earlier risk trying to help Ravenpaw seem like, oh, like a way to avoid conflict rather than sacrifice. Ugh.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah. I think we do see some stuff later that kind of backs that up.

PAZ: That's good.

JULIAN: As far as his characterization, if I'm remembering the handling of some stuff correctly, but.

LIZ: (skeptically) Mm.

PAZ: Oh boy.

JULIAN: Not with Ravenpaw, but.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah. Um, yeah, I feel bad for Fireheart, though. I do think it's like reasonable for him to start doubting himself when literally everyone else is like, I think his vibes are fine. Despite Fireheart being like, his vibes fucking suck. I can sense it.

JULIAN: I was glad that we got a moment of-- speaking of bad vibes-- Longtail like being nice to his deputy, even though Fireheart is like sad about it. Or to his apprentice, sorry. Because at least we're not continuing the cycle of terrible mentors.

PAZ: Please don't give Tigerclaw another apprentice.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: Oh, no.

LIZ: Bluestar was considering it, right?

JULIAN: Maybe he's too busy for one now.

PAZ: I don't know.

JULIAN: I thought maybe-- I said maybe he's too busy for one now. But then I remembered that Bluestar had a apprentice, so. Although she seems to have had one fighting session with Firepaw.

LIZ: It was really good, though. Look at him now.

JULIAN: Yeah, that's true. He is very good.

PAZ: She said, my work here is done.

LIZ: And it was.

JULIAN: He's a feisty little boy.

PAZ: Yeah, apparently, cause she just made him a warrior.

LIZ: That's all he needed.

PAZ: Yeah, you're right. He's like, he's never going to be mentored by Bluestar again, because he's a warrior now. That literally-- that was only important for one scene. That is so funny.

LIZ: God.

JULIAN: He had one session of driver's ed. He got behind the wheel once and then they didn't even make him take a driver's test. They were just like, oh, here's your license. Go ahead.

PAZ: I mean, I guess the one thing I can say for Bluestar is she was like, really chill about Ravenpaw leaving. She was just like, yeah, sometimes cats just would be better off somewhere else, like not in a mean way. Just like, he didn't seem that happy here. Thanks, Bluestar.

LIZ: I did like the parallel she made with like, Fireheart, you're happier here, even though you weren't born here. And like, it was interesting cause he was also self conscious about that. Because like, that's the thing that does get him now and then, like, personally, even though she means it as like a nice thing.

PAZ: But she says, I do not want to hear it about Tigerclaw, so that's great.

JULIAN: Oy.

LIZ: One last thing about chapter 1, before we get to the later parts, I guess-- or I mean, we're kind of there already, but you know. I just want to draw attention to Whitestorm pretty early on, because he's described as having a deep meow.

PAZ: I mean, there's cats who do.

LIZ: Yeah, it's just funny to hear that. It's like, "'glad to see the dawn, you two.' Whitestorm's deep meow took Fireheart by surprise."

JULIAN: I'm just imagining him now, now that you mention that, that video of the cat who like meows like a person.

PAZ: Yeah, yes, I love that video.

LIZ: The one that's like (deep voice) meow.

PAZ: Yeah, that one.

JULIAN: That's Whitestorm. I too am surprised, Fireheart.

PAZ: Do you think the cats have like cat accents in their meows?

LIZ: Yeah, they're British.

JULIAN: Oh, I wonder if the different clans have different accents?

LIZ: Aw, that'd be cute.

JULIAN: Because I know-- well, do you think Fireheart like talks like a kittypet? Cause I know that like pet cats often make different noises than like--

PAZ: They meow more.

JULIAN: --feral ones, yeah.

LIZ: That's true.

PAZ: Everyone's always meowing in this book but cats only meow like around humans. But we'll let that slide. It's fine.

LIZ: It's almost like that could be solved with some very minor writing changes. I can't think of what, though.

PAZ: Oh, we should--

JULIAN: Would you say something about it?

PAZ: We should number count the times said is in this book. Can we get...

JULIAN: Yeah, I can do a-- let me do a quick search.

PAZ: Can we get a number on that? Okay, thank you.

JULIAN: On my ebook.

LIZ: Anyone want to make any bets for how many we'll have?

JULIAN: Yeah, give me your over/unders.

LIZ: 12. By the end of the book.

PAZ: Maybe they've they've got a little looser this book. So 20.

JULIAN: Yeah, we're at 27.

PAZ: Oh.

JULIAN: But none of them are dialogue tags.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Welp. Okay, that means--

JULIAN: Entirely-- all of them are like, Graystripe said nothing, or like.

PAZ: Oh god.

JULIAN: This character said this. This character said that, or like characters reporting that a character said something else, like in their own dialogue.

LIZ: How do they know what said is?

PAZ: Oh, it's a big fat zero. The dialogue tag.

LIZ: Wouldn't they be like, you'll never guess what Bluestar meowed to me.

PAZ: Oh, God.

JULIAN: Do you want to know how many times meowed is used?

PAZ: Oh, yeah.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: 300.

LIZ: Oh my goodness.

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: I can hear it. It's just like 20 to 30 cats meowing at you.

PAZ: Oh boy, well, um, no updates in writing style there, I guess.

JULIAN: I think that's probably in the style Bible.

PAZ: God. I wonder.

LIZ: If you want to be an Erin, and you come up with your draft, and you use said as a dialogue tag, they're gonna be like, [claps] No.

PAZ: Even once.

LIZ: We're going to Ctrl-F. We're going to replace. Listen, we love the rest of this. But we do things a certain way here. It's about consistency.

JULIAN: I wonder if the cats chirp at all.

LIZ: Oh, my God.

PAZ: See, that's how cats would talk to each other.

JULIAN: Because that's how cats communicate.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Nope. None.

PAZ: Unbelievable.

LIZ: Maybe later.

JULIAN: I guess does have like a sort of--

PAZ: Bouncy vibe to it.

JULIAN: It has like a very cheerful energy to it.

LIZ: They can be cheerful sometimes.

PAZ: Well they should use it sometimes, then, unless these cats are never cheerful.

LIZ: They are. I hope they're happier. Yeah.

PAZ: Well, I think we were talking about Whitestorm. My note on him is he seems like real cool and chill and I don't understand why he wasn't made deputy.

LIZ: He didn't want to. He just didn't want to.

PAZ: I mean, I guess that means he got to live for now, at least, so.

JULIAN: Whitestorm has like cool uncle vibes.

LIZ: Cool uncle who's like-- he's got a little bit more brain. He's not gonna get, you know, murdered immediately maybe.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, he's the uncle who like at family gatherings you like, go out to the porch because people are fighting and like, he's just chilling out there with a drink. And you just like make eye contact and nod at each other.

PAZ: I love that.

LIZ: He's having a White Claw. He's like, okay, you're 13. Have a Lacroix.

PAZ: But then chapter two is just the Gathering, basically. Cat politics are back. They're still going at it.

JULIAN: I feel like ShadowClan has got to stop electing or like choosing to elect leaders who have rancid names. Make Runningnose leader.

PAZ: Night is not as bad as Broken, I guess, but it's still...

JULIAN: Yeah, no, it's not.

LIZ: It's just kind of goth, I guess.

PAZ: But he sucks too, and so does Crookedstar apparently.

JULIAN: Damn, who'da thunk?

LIZ: Why doesn't he have like a river-themed one? Why isn't he also like, Wetfoot or something? Wetstar?

PAZ: Wetass.

LIZ: We can't do that here.

JULIAN: Okay, okay.

PAZ: We can't use that. Sorry, I just-- you can't use that word.

LIZ: Mm-mm.

PAZ: I just see Castiel from Supernatural's face--

LIZ: No.

PAZ: --in my mind's eye.

JULIAN: Bringing it back. Bringing it back.

LIZ: We've gone too far. Oh, no. Fishstar.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, I'm... yeah, Fishstar. Hookstar would be fun.

PAZ: Sinister.

JULIAN: Like, you know, he's really good at scooping fish out of water. Um, give them a little... little tricky vibe. But not like as bad as Crookedstar.

LIZ: No, it's just roguish. It's not just evil.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Prawnstar. Eyyy. Like, like monster.

JULIAN: Do they have crayfish in England?

PAZ: That's what I was wondering. I'm like, I don't know. That's why I said prawn.

JULIAN: Bringing back our little section of animal googling.

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: I can't believe I said crayfish. Crawfish.

PAZ: He could be... He could be Crawstar.

LIZ: Wait, is there a difference?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: Also, yes. Do you know why?

PAZ: Why?

LIZ: Well, there's only one. There's not really any reason why. But they are called white-clawed crayfish.

PAZ: Oh.

LIZ: Yeah, see? It's all ring theory.

JULIAN: There you go.

PAZ: Whiteclaw is in RiverClan.

LIZ: "Due the introduction of non-native North American signal crayfish." Oops.

PAZ: Woopsie.

LIZ: Oh no.

JULIAN: You just gotta eat them. You gotta eat more of them.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Get on it, RiverClan.

JULIAN: God, I want crawfish. All right, um.

LIZ: I'm so hungry, guys.

PAZ: Me too.

JULIAN: It does suck that-- the cat politics-- it sucks that RiverClan, having just come from being like, no, ShadowClan, you can't encroach on our territory, is like, but it's okay if we encroach on WindClan's and like, don't let them come back.

PAZ: What the fuck?

LIZ: It was instant.

JULIAN: What's wrong with y'all?

PAZ: Yeah, like real shitty.

JULIAN: Also, again, I agree with whichever cat was like, there's just some scrawny rabbits up there. Like, yeah, what do y'all want?

PAZ: Yeah, like WindClan already is like, toughing it out up there. Like, just let them come back. You're not gonna get much out of it.

LIZ: It sounds like WindClan is like maybe five people at this point.

PAZ: Oh, God. Well, maybe that was like a Crookedstar homophobia moment. I found it interesting that Tigerclaw was so adamant about WindClan coming back, though. Just I guess it wasn't clear in the text if he like-- it wasn't indicated that he was like saying that like untruthfully, in any way. So I wasn't sure if he was just supposed to-- yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, he seems like very much in support of WindClan, which I didn't expect.

PAZ: Yeah, it's just odd. Like, I don't know, I guess because he really only cares about his ambitions so far.

JULIAN: Yeah, I guess it also helps-- like if he is publicly backing up Bluestar, that kind of helps him solidify his position with her.

PAZ: That could be it, but just like it wasn't written in the way to make that like clear that that was his goal. So I was like, is he being genuine? I don't know. It's interesting.

JULIAN: Yeah, no, that's me just like, coming up with possible evil motivations for that. He might just be pro WindClan.

PAZ: Wow, I have something in common with Tigerclaw finally.

LIZ: Yeah, the introduction of having like that in common with Bluestar and Fireheart is like, I think it's really interesting because like, oh, no, now what do I do? It's like that Lord Of the Rings meme, right, with the I can't believe I'm whatever. I don't know. I've seen Lord of the Rings once.

PAZ: Fighting side by side with a dwarf. Fighting side by side with an elf. Yeah.

LIZ: Except still evil at some point, right? Mm.

PAZ: Yeah. Yeah, it was interesting. I am curious to see his attitude towards WindClan down the road, I guess. Like where is that coming from?

JULIAN: And he like, when they go to prep for their their secret mission, he's very supportive, and trying give them advice. Which I kind of expected him to use this as an opportunity to try to bump off Fireheart but.

LIZ: He loves to do that.

JULIAN: I guess it would be too suspicious.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean, like, maybe he's hoping that but it didn't seem like that.

JULIAN: Yeah, I don't think he has it in for Fireheart at this point.

PAZ: Not at the moment.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Cause he was like, make sure to avoid Nightpelt and stuff like that. I guess if he really wanted Fireheart killed, he would have sent them directly towards Nightpelt. I don't know.

JULIAN: Or just been like, oh, make sure that you like walk on the Thunderpath. Disguise your scent.

PAZ: Oh, God.

JULIAN: Maybe you can take a shortcut through snake hell.

PAZ: I do hope we get to see more comical Tigerclaw like trying to murder someone publicly.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: It was very funny last book.

JULIAN: It was very like Tom and Jerry, like cartoonishly large hammer.

LIZ: Tom v. Tom. I do like the conflict, I guess, like inner conflict that it brings up in Fireheart. Because like, he's using his brain, which is still so novel to me, that I'm like, whenever it happens, I'm just like, yes, do it. I know you can do it. I believe in you.

PAZ: He's learning. He's growing stronger as a warrior.

LIZ: I guess it also gives, like, some reasoning as to why Bluestar is giving any shit about like, keeping him where he is. Like, if, if he's, you know, like agreeing and making things or like taking her side and stuff. Like you guys said, it's like a good political thing.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean, Bluestar always seems to like-- her reason for supporting him always seems to come back to like, he's very helpful to the clan and like, supportive of the clan. And that's why everyone likes him, question mark? So getting in the good graces.

JULIAN: I did really like the last line of the third chapter.

PAZ: Oh, I think I remember.

JULIAN: "As he raced through the tunnel, Fireheart heard the ferns rustling in the morning breeze. They seem to be whispering, 'Good luck! Travel safely.'" Which I thought was just really nice.

LIZ: That's very sweet.

PAZ: Yeah, that was just a nice little like good vibes moment.

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: Also sets up the journey to be like, kind of exciting.

LIZ: It's kind of like an old fashioned way of writing like, adventure nature stuff, which I liked.

JULIAN: Yeah, it feels very, like kids adventure novel. I mean, this is a kids adventure novel, but like that very particular genre of like E. Nesbitt.

LIZ: Yeah, if this was a book about like Fireheart being a little teeny cat with like, pants and a shirt and like a knapsack full of bread or something.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: And a sword. This is what it would also be like.

PAZ: Picturing it.

JULIAN: Yep. It's just our podcast art, but with an orange cat instead of a gray one. Ideal.

LIZ: While we're in this section, I want to draw attention to something Graystripe says, which is he calls Fireheart "slow slug," which adorable.

PAZ: Graystripe has some really good like, sayings.

JULIAN: Yeah, why wasn't that on our list of cat insults?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: We should be keeping that. Just keep it updated for reference.

JULIAN: Open up a wiki page. Just kidding. The Warriors wiki team is very, uh, strict.

PAZ: They seem... I don't want to get on their bad side. They'll send like a hit squad out for us.

JULIAN: The power of a team that can organize a wiki of that size that well is very frightening to me.

PAZ: Yes. I do gotta say, though, Bluestar, why are you sending out like the two youngest warriors on this important mission?

LIZ: Bluestar's brains this book are just gone.

JULIAN: She's like, Oh, it's because the other warriors have to hunt. And it's like, you don't want to send your like seasoned warriors who might have some political savvy out to handle the bringing back the clan that was driven from their home job?

PAZ: Yeah, they're essentially going as like diplomats, like diplomats and rescue team. Like you'd think you would send someone who's a good like representation of your clan out.

JULIAN: Like send Whitestorm.

PAZ: Right?

LIZ: Yeah, he's great.

JULIAN: Not these two apprentices who-- Fireheart has never met WindClan. And Graystripe like, is--

LIZ: A centrist.

JULIAN: --has only [laughs] yeah. He's a centrist. And also, he's only been known to WindClan as like a child. So I don't think that this like traumatized clan is going to want to go with them.

PAZ: Right? It's so weird.

LIZ: I think like the reason the book gives is like, oh, you guys are the only ones who know what WindClan smells like right now. And that's also easily something-- you don't have to send both of them. Just send one of them and like, an adult.

PAZ: Yeah. Well, I'm not sure about that one, Bluestar. But okay.

JULIAN: Well, Fireheart will have to use his protagonist aura.

PAZ: Yeah. Maybe she was counting on that.

LIZ: Bluestar has such a serious case of like, dumb for the plot. It's so...

PAZ: Right?

LIZ: The crime against the girlbossiest of girlbosses. I don't know.

PAZ: How could they do this? Yeah, I mean, but that's kind of the end of that reading section. Just they're going out on their journey. I do have to say, I wish Fireheart would realize he was having like prophetic dreams. He was like, well, the other ones were prophetic, but this one isn't, probably. It's fine.

JULIAN: I'm sure this one is fine and normal.

LIZ: You know, it's okay that he's still so dumb. Because if he got smart, like, all at once, it would just be too much of a character shift. This feels good and familiar.

JULIAN: Yeah. Yeah. I also think like, if I had like, a couple of prophetic dreams, and then had a dream that like, seemed just sort of like bad vibes, I would be like, Oh, I don't want this dream to be prophetic. So I'm gonna decide that it's not

PAZ: Yeah, that was kind of what he did. And he was also like, I don't want Tigerclaw to like, get on my case about this. So, um, it was probably fine. I'll just go back to sleep.

LIZ: It's procrastination if you're like a prophet.

PAZ: StarClan is like sending these down, like, hello? Hello? Open your texts.

LIZ: These are StarClan emails.

JULIAN: Fireheart's 5000 unopened emails.

LIZ: Dear Fireheart, hope you're well. Was just wanting to check up on the last email that I sent you. Have you had a chance to look at it? Please let me know as soon as you can. Regards, StarClan.

JULIAN: Graystripe, meanwhile, over here at inbox zero.

LIZ: StarClan voice, per my last email.

JULIAN: Purr my last email? Sorry.

LIZ: Ooh. Well done. [claps]

PAZ: The dreams are very like sad though.

JULIAN: Yeah. Why can't he have a good prophetic dream?

PAZ: Prophetic dream that he'll catch a big rabbit tomorrow. I don't know. I don't know what would be a good cat dream.

JULIAN: I guess his dreams when he was a kittypet, those prophetic dreams were good dreams. He got to catch a mouse.

LIZ: Prophetic dream about being able to eat cheese for the first time because he gets invited to Ravenpaw and Barley's wedding on the farm, and the farmers have left some cheese out as a wedding gift.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: Wow. He can't have too much, though. It'll upset his little tummy.

PAZ: Well, just a little nibble.

LIZ: Just a little, just a little.

PAZ: As a treat. Well, I'm excited to for next reading.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think we're gonna have some good journey content.

PAZ: Yeah, I love when the cats go places, you know?

JULIAN: It's good.

PAZ: Cats on the move. I mean, does that end our little reading section?

JULIAN: Yeah, I think we covered it.

LIZ: Yeah. Though I am looking at my bookmark, which talks about Dappletail again. And it calls it, "the once-beautiful queen Dappletail spoke up in a voice cracked with age."

PAZ: Just Grizabella.

JULIAN: This is just...

PAZ: She's gonna start belting out Memory any second now.

JULIAN: I started to, like, trying to remember the tune so I could sing it, or like part of it, but all I could remember was Agony from Into the Woods. (singing to the tune of "Agony") Memory. Uh, Anyway.

PAZ: Anyway, let's move on to our next thing. I was thinking we could click around MIT Scratch Warriors community.

JULIAN: Hell yes.

PAZ: Which we were introduced to last episode. There is truly so much here. I don't understand it.

[meow]

LIZ: What is...

JULIAN: Oh, this is delightful.

LIZ: What is MIT Scratch really?

PAZ: I don't know. Let me go look at their about.

JULIAN: So yeah, so Blue said it was like a-- it's like a site for kids to kind of learn how to code. So it's, you know, like, this is how you put together an animation, or like a program, or like a little game. But you don't have to actually write the code. You just learn how to kind of do if/then types of things and dependencies and that sort of thing.

LIZ: That's sweet.

PAZ: But it's extremely funny that a Warriors community has made itself at home here.

LIZ: I think that just... it feels natural.

JULIAN: Yeah. Oh, there's a bunch of remixes of this Make a Clan link. Or no, there's just one.

PAZ: Where is... Oh God. Oh, God. I can't see anything. Oh, mm? Aah.

JULIAN: Oh. Hello? I'm gonna make this full screen.

PAZ: Oh, that might help things. I didn't-- no. That didn't really help things. We're looking at a game--

JULIAN: This cat is talking to me, but I can't--

PAZ: We're looking at a game called Make a Clan. There is a cat talking to us but it is covered by a bajillion windows.

JULIAN: How do I hide these?

PAZ: I don't know. I don't think we can.

LIZ: Don't be a coward. Click in all of that.

PAZ: Oh, I think the cat's saying, What's your clans name? Well, CrabClan. If I type it in, will it accept it? Okay, yes, it accepted it. What's your leaders name? It was--

LIZ: Alix.

PAZ: Larkstar and-- was it, no. What'd you end up, Julian?

JULIAN: Oh, I don't remember. I think I stuck with Pinestar, maybe? Pine, whatever the fuck. Pinestripe.

PAZ: Pinestar. There we go. Oh, I think I filled it out wrong. Oh no. Aw.

LIZ: Well then, we can't make a clan.

PAZ: I don't know about this one, guys.

LIZ: We got booted.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah, I've put it in as the clan name. Whoops.

PAZ: Well.

JULIAN: Yeah, we might have to pick another one. Oh, I'm gonna-- let's see.

PAZ: Do we want to check out this one that I found? A Day in the Life of a Clan Leader.

JULIAN: Yeah, let's do this.

PAZ: I'm loving the music.

JULIAN: Oh, there are instructions. The game is unfinished.

PAZ: Oh god, the music just changed.

LIZ: Oh god, it's so loud.

JULIAN: "To pick your cat, just click on it. To move, use the right or left arrow keys. To travel around, click the entrance of the place you want to go. To hunt the mouse, just click on it." This is very interactive.

PAZ: So we got FireClan, CloudClan, and LeafClan to choose from. Who are we gonna choose?

JULIAN: Oh god, it's so loud.

LIZ: It's very loud. Hey, if you click right and left, you can make the cat dance.

PAZ: We gotta choose our cat. Which clan are we gonna choose?

JULIAN: I vote LeafClan.

LIZ: Me too.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm feeling that. That's Willowstar.

JULIAN: Willowstar has a little diamond in the center of their forehead, which I think is great.

PAZ: Willowstar is like gray and white.

JULIAN: Our other options are Dapplestar, who has a little star, and then Ashstar, who has emo bangs.

PAZ: So it kind of puts your cat in this scene. And you kind of just click places. Oh. So I just clicked into the medicat. Lovely array of like herbs and stuff here. Let's see. Let's see what's up. "The Gathering is tonight. Get ready." Okay. Oh my god. If you press space, they meow.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: I don't know if I can leave this conversat-- okay, yeah, they just go back outside.

JULIAN: Uh-oh. I moved too far to the left.

PAZ: Camp exit. Okay, we're out of the camp. Willowstar? I already can't remember. "I must find prey for my clan. Click the rock to start." Okay, I'm clicking the rock.

LIZ: The medic area looks like it just has cookies.

PAZ: Might have hit a dead end here.

JULIAN: Those are the strongest potions. Yeah, I can't click the rock.

PAZ: Well, that's a day in the life of a leader.

LIZ: Wow. I like the meow function.

PAZ: Yeah, the meow function is great. I think all games should implement that. I have found Warrior Cats Text Adventure.

JULIAN: Oh, that might be a little bit easier.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Let's do that one.

PAZ: Let's try this one out.

LIZ: Hey, should we screenshare this?

PAZ: Oh yeah, I guess I'll just do that.

LIZ: First screen shared podcast.

PAZ: Okay, we seem to be starting in media res here.

JULIAN: Uh-oh. Try hitting stop and then the green flag again. The stop button up at the top. Oh, there you go. We've started at the beginning.

PAZ: Choose your clan. RiverClan. Oh, they got stats. Oh.

LIZ: Ooh.

JULIAN: Oh shit.

PAZ: RiverClan stats. No, this is WindClan, sorry.

JULIAN: No, that's WindClan.

PAZ: WindClan stats. Speed, 10. Strength, 2. Smarts, 5. Stealth, 5. Swim, 2.

LIZ: Actually, it's stregth.

PAZ: Oh sorry. Stregth.

JULIAN: Stregth.

PAZ: Yes. Oh, that's a special stat that only WindClan has, cause RiverClan just has strength. No, wait.

JULIAN: No, they also have stregth.

PAZ: Wow, you're right. They all have stregth. Stregth. Well, okay. Hey, I have issues with these stats. RiverClan has speed 2, stregth 10, smarts 10, stealth five, swim 10. I think RiverClan's a little OP here.

JULIAN: RiverClan seems kind of OP.

LIZ: Looks like someone has favorites. Hmm.

JULIAN: Can we see what ThunderClan's smart status is? Yeah, that seems about right.

PAZ: Yeah, so ThunderClan's stats are speed 5, stregth 8, smart 5, stealth 5, swim 2.

LIZ: I think smart should be less.

JULIAN: Yeah, I would give them a 2.

PAZ: I would give WindClan more smarts honestly.

LIZ: Yeah, they're like surviving. They've got this.

PAZ: So ShadowClan's stats are speed 5, stregth 8, speed 5, stealth 10, swim 2.

LIZ: Okay, one, I think any clan that isn't RiverClan should have swim 0.

PAZ: That's true. They all have swim 2 except RiverClan. Well, I don't want to choose RiverClan on the basis that they're OP.

JULIAN: I think we should go WindClan.

PAZ: I agree. We're gonna celebrate them this book.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: "Clan leader: Well, well, well, it seems we have received a new warrior. I name you." I think it has given me one. I don't know if I can change it.

JULIAN: Our autogenerated name is Timberburr.

PAZ: I'll take it, you know? Gotta respect what the leader says. "Press space to begin your adventure." Does somebody want to...

JULIAN: Sure.

PAZ: --be this cat.

JULIAN: "Greetings, new warrior. Would you like to join me on a hunting patrol?" This is Stormclaw.

PAZ: That's so...

LIZ: What happens if you say no?

PAZ: Yes or no. Do we want to say no?

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I want to say no. "That's fine. I'll go with some other cat."

PAZ: "He walks away. A second warrior pads over." Wanna do that, Liz?

LIZ: Oh, I can do it. Clawstrike says, "if you aren't going on patrol, you might as well make yourself useful. The elders need new bedding. The apprentices brough the new moss in, but you can clear away the old moss."

PAZ: "In the elders den, an elder peers at you."

JULIAN: (creakily) "Thank you for doing this."

PAZ: "A second spots you and begins mewing rapidly."

LIZ: Okay. (high-pitched and wavery) "Finally. Young cats these days. That reminds me of when I was young. There was this fox, see, attacking the clans, and I knew that it needed to learn a blah blah blah blah blah."

[laughing]

PAZ: "You finish long before the story is done and exit the den."

JULIAN: This is so rude.

LIZ: I wanna hear about the fox.

PAZ: "The next day... as you stand in camp, you hear something. Before you can move, an enemy clan invades your camp. You find yourself face to face with a snarling enemy cat. You must perform a move against your enemy."

JULIAN: Oh shit.

PAZ: So we can either leap and hold, front paw blow, upright lock, or a tail yank.

LIZ: Tail yank.

JULIAN: I vote tail yank.

PAZ: Okay. Oh god. "You grab your enemy's tail in your teeth and yank, but her twists and slices your chest."

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: Our health has dropped from 20 to 16.

PAZ: Oh God.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Oh shit.

LIZ: We died?

PAZ: We Dark Souls died. "Just then, the order sounds for your clan to retreat. Clan leader: we are defeated." Huge letters. "You lose."

LIZ: We died.

JULIAN: Well, that was quick.

PAZ: Um, well, Warriors games are unforgiving, apparently.

LIZ: Should we replay with better stats?

PAZ: Okay. Do we wanna stay true to our allegiances or go be OP?

LIZ: Let's be OP.

PAZ: Okay, fine. We'll cave to this author's favoritism and be RiverClan. Oh my god.

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: Oh no, we're Ashfur.

LIZ: Wait a minute. Hold on.

PAZ: Ashfur really is like the John of Warriors names.

LIZ: Ashfur, parentheses, no relation.

PAZ: Well, we're Ashfur. Okay. Here we go.

JULIAN: Oh, it's the same warrior.

LIZ: Stormclaw, no relation.

JULIAN: Stormclaw would like us to join him on a sun hunting patrol. Again.

PAZ: Should we say yes this time maybe?

JULIAN: Yeah, let's see what it's like.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: "You walk out of camp. In the hunting grounds of your clan."

JULIAN: (bombastically) "I smell mouse. How about you catch it for your first catch as a warrior?"

LIZ: "Moss says, squeak."

PAZ: No, it's "squeaks softly."

LIZ: Oh, excuse me. (whispering) Squeaks softly.

PAZ: What's our stealth? Not very good. Our speed's not very good. Maybe we should pounce. We're very strong.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: We can pounce, stalk, or chase, and I think pounce is probably...

PAZ: "When you pounce, the mouse does not notice until too late. With a powerful leap, you catch it and swiftly nip its neck."

JULIAN: (cheerfully) "Wow. Nice catch. That was a great pounce."

PAZ: "His voice is muffled by the feathers of a thrush he caught."

JULIAN: [garbled speech]

PAZ: "You walk back to camp."

LIZ: Which is, by the way, in capital letters.

PAZ: "In your clan's camp. The clan leader says."

LIZ: "Impressive. Good job, both of you."

PAZ: "She nods at you and Stormclaw before vanishing into her den."

JULIAN: "It was fun hunting with you. Now I'll go ask if I'm wanted on moonhigh patrol. If not, I going straight to sleep."

PAZ: "He walks away."

LIZ: This guy is an NPC.

PAZ: He talks like an Oblivion NPC.

LIZ: "I'm going straight to sleep."

JULIAN: What is the difference between this and Oblivion, really?

PAZ: Yeah. I think Bethesda might have ripped some of this off.

LIZ: Mm, maybe you're onto something.

PAZ: "The next day." We're in battle again. "As you stand in the camp, you hear something. Before you can move, an enemy clan invades your camp. You must perform a move against your enemy."

LIZ: What if this was timed?

PAZ: Oh god. Okay, so we're very strong.

JULIAN: I think either leap and hold or front paw blow might be our best bets with strength.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Front paw blow seems good.

LIZ: Yeah, one shot, one kill.

JULIAN: Yeah, let's just fucking punch em.

PAZ: "You slam your paw down on the enemy warrior's head. He hisses but is dazed for a heartbeat. You rake your claws down his chest and he backs away, growling. Just then the order sounds for the other clan to retreat. Your enemy bares his teeth at you and flees alongside his clanmates."

LIZ: Clan leader says, "we have won this battle. All the cats are to go and have their wounds, if they have any, treated by our medicine cat."

PAZ: "The medicine cat pads over and checks your pelt for injuries.

JULIAN: "I can't see or scent any injuries. But I'm out of goldenrod. Could you go gather me some?"

PAZ: We can say yes or no. I feel like saying no last time really fucked us up, maybe. I'll say yes.

LIZ: Yeah. "Thank you."

PAZ: "Outside camp, you search for the herbs and come across three places to check. You know that goldenrod does not grow in marshes." So we can either check ferns, under brambles, or in marsh.

JULIAN: I kinda wanna check in the marsh.

PAZ: Okay.

LIZ: That 10 smart is not accurate.

PAZ: "You pad into the marsh. The mud is thick and wet and you sink a tail length deep."

LIZ: Holy shit.

PAZ: "The mud covers your legs and belly and you struggle to get out. No sign of goldenrod, and now you're stuck." So we can either call for help or pull out. We're very strong.

JULIAN: We are very strong.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: This'll be fine. We're gonna pull out.

LIZ: We're fine.

PAZ: "You try and pull yourself out. The mud clings to your fur, but you manage to get out. You walk back to camp."

LIZ: No consequences for our bad decision?

PAZ: No, I guess not.

JULIAN: I feel like we should have lost some health for like being cold and wet.

LIZ: Probably stinky, too. Oh, it's me. "Clan leader says, let all cats old enough to swim gather for a clan meeting." Oh boy. That was me. The oh boy is not canon. "One of our kits is ready to become an apprentice. Step forward, young one."

PAZ: "A kit scurries forward."

LIZ: (laughing) "From this moment on, you shall be known as Snailpaw."

PAZ: Just to be clear, Snailpaw is also an auto generated name. "The leader fixes her gaze on you."

LIZ: "You shall mentor this cat."

PAZ: "Your apprentice touches noses with you, looking excited."

JULIAN: (chirpily) "I'm gonna be the best warrior in the clan with you as a mentor."

LIZ: I got confused. They were both green text.

PAZ: "What will you do with your apprentice? Hunt. Battle train. Gather moss." This is such a tiny baby. I don't wanna battle train.

JULIAN: Right.

PAZ: They're too small.

LIZ: But I want to seem cool in front of my student. I don't think moss is gonna do it. Let's hunt.

PAZ: Maybe we should hunt, then.

JULIAN: We already hunted though.

PAZ: Well, these cats hunt every day.

LIZ: What if the baby gets hungry? Do we want to gather moss?

PAZ: Let's go hunt.

LIZ: Alright.

PAZ: "You take your apprentice to your clan's hunting grounds."

JULIAN: (high-pitched) "I smell bird."

PAZ: "You teach them the proper bird hunting technique and they begin to stalk a small finch." We can either help your apprentice or let them do it. I'm happy to help our young apprentice, Snailpaw.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I feel like as the apprentice, I can't chime in.

LIZ: Let's help.

PAZ: This is their first day. Let's help.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: "The apprentice luges at the bird. And it flutters towards you. You catch and kill it."

JULIAN: (high-pitched) "That was fun. We make a great team."

PAZ: Aw.

LIZ: Aw.

PAZ: "You go back to camp, for the sun is setting."

LIZ: Oh, the prey count also is 2. We did it.

JULIAN: Oh yay.

LIZ: "Clan leader says, oh good, you're back. You had better get some sleep. Now."

JULIAN: (high-pitched) "Thank you for the training."

PAZ: "Your apprentice pads into the apprentices' den and you go to the warriors' den to get some sleep. The next day, the deputy pads over to you."

LIZ: Who wants to do the cowboy voice for this? It can't me.

JULIAN: (laughing) I can do it. [clears throat] (in a very bad Southern accent) "I want you to go on a border patrol by the river with several other warriors." I don't know what happened there.

PAZ: It was perfect.

"At the river."

LIZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Who the fuck is Darkflight?

LIZ: I don't know. "Darkflight says, we should spread out."

PAZ: "Each warrior pads to a different area. You hear a small wail and sight two kits from a different clan floundering weakly in the river." We either help them or leave them.

LIZ: That's a real Bioshock choice there.

JULIAN: Well, help them of course.

PAZ: Yeah, our swim is 10. We're fucking going in there. "You spring into the river to save the kits. Being RiverClan, you swim quickly and nimbly, and are able to reach the kits in time. You haul them out of the river and manage to save them. A patrol from the kits' clan arrives, thanks you, and takes the kits back. Your patrol gapes at you, but you pad back to the camp in silence."

JULIAN: What the fuck is wrong with our patrol?

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Yeah, I can't-- is that like, judgment? You want them to just die? Jesus.

LIZ: Maybe it's um, gaping at us because we swim so good because we have 10 swim.

PAZ: Yeah, it better be in like awe. Oh my god. We won.

LIZ: Holy shit.

PAZ: We won.

JULIAN: We did it.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: "In camp."

LIZ: "Darkflight says, I'll report back to our leader."

PAZ: "She pads away. The clan leader soon approaches you."

LIZ: Clan leader, who sounds exactly the same, says, "By saving those kits, you have averted war between our clans. May StarClan honor you."

PAZ: "You win" and then there's a little fun animatic of the title, like the Warriors title, pixelating in and out. Wow.

LIZ: I can't believe we did it. Woo.

JULIAN: Incredible, we did it.

PAZ: We did it, guys.

JULIAN: We won at-- we were the best at being a cat.

LIZ: Game of the year. That's all I ever wanted.

PAZ: Because we were incredibly OP.

JULIAN: I think that was it. It's just that we were RiverClan.

LIZ: Yeah, if we hadn't had that 10 swim.

PAZ: Yeah, I feel like this game seems extremely biased towards RiverClan. I don't agree with that. I don't know. That's pretty good.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think that was good.

PAZ: I'm happy to end there on our victory.

LIZ: Yeah. We've got lots of time for more gaming next time.

JULIAN: Right.

PAZ: Exactly.

JULIAN: There's a whole universe here on MIT Scratch.

PAZ: There's so many games. How many-- will it show me a page count? No, it will not show me a page count. Or how many there are. But I assure you, there are a lot.

LIZ: Who needs--

JULIAN: Well, we'll have to link that one in the...

PAZ: Yes.

JULIAN: On the Twitter so that the audience can see if they have any more success as ThunderClan or ShadowClan.

PAZ: Yeah. Um, yeah, I mean, I guess that's gonna do it for us today. Gonna keep going at it with Fire and Ice next week. As always, you can find the show @staircast on Twitter and send in any questions or anecdotes you want to share to [email protected]. And next week, we'll be reading chapters four through seven. So if you're reading along, that's where we'll be at. And until then, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

[outro music]

#transcript #fire and ice ep #ep 08 #twenty to thirty feral cats

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wutbju · 5 years

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Back to the Bob Jones University Faculty Meeting on February 22, 2019.

Steve Pettit, in discussing the Church White List changes, stated:

Throughout this process, one of the main issues realized in local church relationships has to do with music. The music policy has been looked at—does it address this? Where is our music policy today? A task force is working through a refreshment/revising of the music policy.

Another “refreshment” of the music policy? Another one? This archivist was part of one in 2005. Marshall Franklin was part of one in 2010.

This Music Statement is buried on the BJU.edu site. How are they going to “refresh” this?

Music in the Mission of BJU

The mission of Bob Jones University is to grow Christlike character that is scripturally disciplined, others-serving, God-loving, Christ-proclaiming and focused above. We fulfill this mission using a variety of methods, tools and resources, including public proclamation of the Word in chapel services and special meetings, a biblically integrated curriculum, opportunities for Christian service, and a faculty and staff who endeavor to model Christ to our students.

What role does the music that we perform and listen to play in our mission? How can we use music to grow Christlike character in our students? How can music hinder or thwart our efforts? This document is an attempt to answer those questions succinctly.

Although the answers will be based on biblical teaching that is valid for all believers at all times, we recognize that these answers involve the application of those teachings to our specific context and institutional mission. Other institutions, congregations and individuals may apply them differently based upon their own earnest efforts to reflect scriptural principles within their respective contexts and in keeping with their unique institutional, congregational or personal missions.

While biblical truth is nonnegotiable, application in specific cultural and institutional contexts may differ. In particular, since music is such a dominant cultural force in the contemporary West—to a greater degree, apparently, than it has been throughout most of history—application of biblical principles in this area is likely to be controversial, touching strongly held opinions across a spectrum of choices.

Because we seek to apply biblical thinking and decision making to every issue, we must start with an examination of what the Bible says—or does not say—about music. From there, we will examine how those truths apply to BJU and our mission.

Biblical Principles in Music

Music reflects the beauty and goodness of God and is a gift from the Creator intended for our enjoyment and spiritual elevation. It is an important part of every believer’s life, both in his worship of God—his primary mission—and in his interaction with his culture(s) as he carries out Christ’s Great Commission. Because music resonates with the spirit of mankind in ways that make it a powerful influence on our thinking and behavior, our decisions about music often have significant consequences on our spiritual health—and consequently often have moral implications as well. The Bible has much to say about the use of music in worship. It also speaks often about the motives that should govern the believer’s broader lifestyle as he moves in the world.

Music should make me more like Christ (2 Cor. 3:18). Christ’s character is perhaps best reflected in what He identified as the two greatest commandments: to love God completely and to love one’s neighbor as oneself (Matt. 22:34–40). The practical application of these broad principles appears in Paul’s summary of “the fruit of the Spirit” (Gal. 5:22–23). Like everything else he welcomes into his life, the believer’s music should promote truth, dignity, justice, purity and loveliness as well as be admirable to onlookers (Phil. 4:8).

Music should enrich my spirit in enjoyment of what God has created (1 Tim 6:17). The believer’s experiences need not be clearly religious in order to be spiritually profitable; God has indeed “given us richly all things to enjoy,” and there is a place for simple enjoyment of beauty and for enrichment by expanding one’s knowledge and experience. It is appropriate for the believer simply to listen to music for entertainment.

Music should edify my fellow believers (Eph. 4:11–16). The believer’s lifestyle choices are not made in a vacuum; he is a member of the larger body of Christ. Thus, his choices can affect his fellow believers. Paul warns that the believer must not encourage another believer to violate his conscience, even when that believer’s conscience is misinformed, and that the believer willingly and gladly gives up genuine rights and liberties for the sake of the health of other believers (1 Cor. 8:4–13). Similarly, even careless or thoughtless practices that create or accentuate differences between believers (e.g., 1 Cor. 11:17–22) violate the essential unity we all have in Christ (Gal. 3:28). Believers need to act with primary concern not for their own liberties but for the well-being of their fellow believers (Phil. 2:4). This is a legitimate test of our devotion to Christ’s two great commandments (Gal. 5:14).

Music should discourage in me the works of the flesh (Gal. 5:19–21). By contrast, then, music that encourages contrary character qualities—sexual impurity, devotion to competing gods, division, short-temperedness, self-centeredness, carousing “and the like” (Gal. 5:21)—the believer should reject and avoid. Even beyond this, though, the believer’s music should positively empower him against these things.

Music should aid my testimony before the lost (Matt. 28:19–20) by demonstrating to them my devotion to God and distinctness from the elements of the world that are organized in opposition to God (1 John 2:5–17). There is much in the world system that signifies its rejection of God’s rightful sovereignty and will. The believer cannot appear to endorse those elements, even with the intention of building bridges for evangelism. Biblical examples of evangelism are empowered by the Spirit, not by psychological manipulation or deception (1 Thess. 2:3–6).

Sacred music should focus on the attributes and acts of God (Ps. 150:2; Isa. 12:2). Worship is primarily addressed to God for praising His objectively revealed perfections rather than to the worshiper for connecting with his subjectively perceived needs or interests. The focus of worship in the Bible is the recounting of truths about God—primarily His attributes and His works—and the consequent response of the worshiper in praise.

Sacred music should cause me to rejoice thankfully in God (Ps. 33:1; 105:2–3; 108:1, 4), fulfilling the command to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength (Deut. 6:4–5; Matt. 22:37–38). As the worshiper meditates on God’s person and works—through prayer, song and the hearing of the Word—his Spirit-driven response will be gratitude and the consequent desire to trust, obey and serve God. His direction will be toward surrender to and thoughts of God rather than to his own needs and benefits. Love for God yields focus on His benefit, not our own.

Sacred music should be doctrinally sound (Col. 3:16; Eph. 5:18–19), beautiful (Ps. 27:4, 29:2, 66:2, 96:6–9), reverent (Ps. 29:2), and fresh and vital (“a new song,” Ps. 40:3, 96:1, 98:1), not merely routine. Because God is holy—in a class by Himself, set apart—our worship of Him should not look like activities that are not worship or that are false worship. God forbade practices in Israel that merely resembled pagan worship practices (Lev. 19:27–28), and He expected worship to be distinct from everyday activities (e.g., Exod. 20:8–10; Ps. 29:2; and much elsewhere). Paul tells us that based on God’s great work in us, everything we do must not be “conformed to this world” (Rom. 12:1–2)—that is, the Christian is to live with the intentional aim of resisting the external pressure of the world to conform. Our sacred music, as well as all of our music and actions, must resist the natural pressure to recalibrate standards according to the musical trends of the unregenerate. Jesus frequently criticized the religious leaders of His day for their mindless, unfeeling practice of religious ritual (Matt. 6:7). When believers respond to God in worship, they will do so in ways that reflect the freshness and vitality of their experience. We can expect that every generation of believers will devote its creative effort to this end. At the same time, they will learn from God’s direction of those who have preceded them, honoring what is timeless in the rich history of God’s gift of music to His people.

Sacred music should involve the congregation as well as the platform leaders (Col. 3:16; Eph. 5:18–19). While the New Testament provides for leadership positions in the church (Phil. 1:1; 1Tim. 3; Titus 1), it calls for participation in worship from all the members of Christ’s body. Believers are participants in, not observers of, worship. We are not opposed to choir numbers and special music which, when actively listened to, are scriptural forms of participation in worship (1 Chron. 16:7, 36; 2 Chron. 29:28; Ps. 40:3).

Sacred music should encourage the unity of the church (Eph. 4:1–6). All believers have identical individual standing and responsibility before God when it comes to debatable issues (Rom. 14:4, 10–12, 22). Our relationship to Christians who exercise their stewardship of this through the consecrated approach taught and called for in Romans 12:1–2 should be respectful enough to allow for differences between us that are the result of our respective earnest efforts to understand and consistently apply scriptural principles to this issue. This posture promotes unity and mutual edification in the truth (Eph. 4:15–16).

Music Policies at BJU

The following policies represent our earnest attempt to apply Biblical truth to our context as a liberal arts institution. The mission of BJU is furthered when the institution and each member of the university family use biblically-sound, God-glorifying music that promotes growth in Christlikeness. While enrolled at BJU, students are encouraged to develop spiritual and aesthetic discernment in their music choices. Because much of the music available today is instead antithetical to biblical principles, the use of such music would hinder our mission of growing Christlike character. In Christian music, truth can be presented with varying degrees of biblical accuracy and clarity. BJU acknowledges that there is a range of music acceptability that is separate from the world; BJU’s position is intentionally conservative within that range.

The following music conflicts with our mission and is therefore excluded from performance, personal listening, or use in student organizations, societies, student productions, or social media:

In our chapel and other sacred services (including student-led), we use hymns, gospel songs, and anthems, both old and new, which are doctrinally orthodox, set to an appropriate tune and performed in a conservative style, and further our mission. We sparingly use sources of recently written music outside fundamentalism that meet these criteria.

In our curriculum and in public performances, we use music that prepares students for their areas of service and that furthers our mission.

In our bookstore, online, or at any other venue, we sell only music that furthers our mission.

Students are responsible for their musical choices, and we hold them accountable by enforcing our policies.

Any music which, in whole or in part, derives from the following broadly-defined genres or their sub-genres: Rock, Pop, Country, Jazz, Electronic/Techno, Rap/Hip Hop, or the fusion of any of these genres.

Any music in which Christian lyrics or biblical texts are set to music which is, in whole or in part, derived from any of these genres or their sub-genres.

While we recognize that this policy excludes a few pieces that are acceptable (e.g., Rhapsody in Blue), for simplicity of policy, we have excluded the entire genres.

Questions and AnswersIs music a matter of morality?

At one extreme, some view music as completely morally neutral; at the other extreme, some see morality intrinsic in specific chords or other building blocks of music. The question is easily oversimplified or misunderstood. Music, by God’s design, is a subjective experience; but its various aspects—words, sounds, imagery and associations—greatly affect us. The elements of music (pitch, rhythm, tone quality and dynamics) communicate broadly but only imprecisely.

Music—the combination of these elements—can be designed to elicit moral responses both right and wrong. Therefore, we reject the idea that music is morally neutral; and we evaluate music on several levels—the words and imagery themselves, the intent of the music maker, the effects on the listeners, and even the context of the experience.

How do associations affect our music choices?

It is possible to adapt recent songs by people with whom we would not fully agree and arrange them in a style that is above reproach. Hymnals have historically contained pieces written by authors with aberrant theology, yet the pieces we use from such authors have a strong biblical text and are set to excellent music—and the writer’s theological aberrations are usually known by only a few (e.g., “Lead On, O King Eternal”). With modern technology, however, associations may more easily have negative influence. The original source of music is never remote. The more recently a song has emerged and the more popular its source, the more influence it has. So BJU exercises great restraint in the choices of music we adapt, and we issue cautions about our concerns.

Of course, the mere use of any music has never implied endorsement of its original presentation or source. And avoiding certain music is not a blanket criticism of another’s ministry or motives. All of us are imperfect vessels, and Christ in His grace continues to work in and through us. Thankfully, being careful in music choices does not mean that our worship need be musically impoverished. We have an abundance of beautiful music, readily available today, that is completely edifying, soul-stirring and above reproach.

How do we define rock music?

When compared with the characteristics of other musical genres (e.g., folk music, patriotic music, classical concert music and traditional sacred music), the rock genre is distinguished by the combination of some or all of the following characteristics—sensual singing styles, dominating beat, heavy percussion, overwhelming volume and an overall atmosphere that counteracts self-control, especially when coupled in performance with elements such as a defiant demeanor, immodest attire, sexually suggestive dancing or crude gestures. Attempts to couple worldly vehicles like rock music (and other pop styles) with sacred lyrics and settings create a moral tension for the believer and contradict the Christian’s call to a consecrated approach to life (Rom. 12:1–2).

#Bob Jones University #Faculty Meeting #February 22 2019 #Closure #Winning #Music Policy

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