#Don't worry - it's not the end of the story! I put characters through the wringer but I don't do it for nothing.

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Fic: "Paths" (Part 3)

Previous instalments here

Perhaps a single sleep-in morning couldn’t fix everything.

In the three days after coronation, Graham racked up an impressive record as king. First, he managed to shatter an oil lantern in the oldest, yellowest, crispiest part of the castle archive, bursting with looseleaf waiting to be bound. They’d saved most of the stacks. 

He’d written greeting letters to his fellow monarchs, including  the queen of gigantic Serenia, the cloutiest player on the political stage. By some oblivious genius,  he accidentally filled the whole thing with scathing double meanings about their countries’ future relationship, with a postscript that amounted to a casual declaration of war. The uncomfortable scribe had said nothing to Graham, but rushed off to check the letter with Royal Guard Number One. You could have knocked the new king over with a feather when the guard scornfully read the worst passages back to him. 

Twice he groggily (and purely automatically) showed up for his old night shifts, embarrassing everyone. He was late for half the meetings on his agenda. One evening he signed nearly two hundred documents he was supposed to void, before someone stopped him.

But nothing compared with what came to be known in Mannerly Stove in years following as “The King Graham incident.” 

Graham’s century old carriage rolled up the switchbacks. He drummed his listless fingers on the window. He knew at least two shortcuts he could have taken, if only they had let him ride his surefooted Triumph. But his old buddy was not a suitable steed for a king, or so they said. 

He tugged at this collar. The carriage might have been spacious, if his honour guard hadn’t stuffed in with him. Did they think they had to form a defensive perimeter even inside the coach? The air outside was damply hot enough, more like the stillness before the summer storms than a September day. And inside with the five guards? Every inch of armour fogged up like a mirror after a bath. 

“I’m not quite sure what the point of this is - ouch!” His temple struck the window as the carriage lurched wildly onto its two right wheels. The brow of his crown dug bluntly into the same place it dug every time. 

“A little more caution on those sharp turns, Number Two?” the captain called, banging a fist on the ceiling.

“Righty-oh,” came their driver’s muffled voice.

The king groaned. He shoved aside his seatmate, who had toppled right over him. His sharp armour bits were all caught on Graham’s formal black and red outfit. “I mean,” he grunted, righting his crown, “I have been to Mannerly Stove. Every time I’ve been sent on a quest outside the kingdom, in fact. I get my lunch at the Olde Yarblesnoof. I know half the people by sight. Is this visit really necessary?”

Number One fanned himself with his notecards. His voice was flat and already tired. “Sir Graham visited. Sir Graham is not here today. You are Daventry.”

 “Yeah, but, to an ordinary villager -”

The guard’s tone grew sharper. “Ever have the landlord knock on your door up in Llewdor?”

Graham swallowed. It had been a long time. Yet he was astonished how clearly he remembered his mother panicking, plastering on a smile for him and his sisters, rushing them out the backdoor, and telling them to play by the brook or in the woods. Just not near the house. She’d pat her hair and set  her jaw, walking determinedly to the front door. He could not remember what the landlord looked like, except that he was really big. He had to stoop to get in the door. Graham frowned. “Yeah, occasionally.”

“It means a lot to an ordinary villager, wouldn’t you say?”

Graham didn’t answer.

Number One went on, a little less sharp, a little more didactic. “You are about a hundred times all that the landlord is, and more. So today you are going to calm their worries. You’ll smile and mingle, and let them show you whatever they’re proudest of - probably the Tickle Rock. You’ll declare three months’ tax forgiveness, and call for a cask of ale to be opened for the people. And all this will be code for, ‘You’re just as much a part of Daventry as the people down in the valley, Mannerly Stove. I’ll show you I’ll be good to you. You show me you’ll keep my mountain pass open, my only real road in and out clear of snow, catch my brigands, warn me of invaders, ensure food and tools and supplies flow into into my country without trouble, and keep me connected to the outside world.’ So yes, unless you fancy dining only on lavender for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of your reign, we could call it necessary. ”

“But does that also mean - agh!” 

The carriage slammed to an abrupt halt.  Graham and all the guards on his side were thrown into the laps of the guards across the way.  The coach became a writhing tangle of arms, legs, and everyone’s favourite curses. Graham’s boot toe somehow caught on the overhead luggage rack, while his nose wedged in the crook of Number One’s elbow. He thought he heard the captain mutter under his breath, “Really?”Then at the top of his lungs, “Open the door, for pity’s sake!”

Someone found the latch. Half the guards tumbled out in a dust cloud.. Graham could not look anyone in the face as Numbers Three and Five extricated him, and lifted him out of the carriage like a child - into the midst of a throng of chuckling onlookers.

Get it together. Think of lavender for every meal!

Graham stepped away from the guards.  He reached desperately for his dignity, or even just his coaching. Something came to hand. He lifted his chin, clenched his teeth into the most carefree smile in his repertoire, and waved a great big wave at the crowd of a hundred or so. “What’s shakin’, Mannerly Stove?” he shouted cheerily. 

Number One slumped, but the crowd whooped and applauded. Some were still laughing, but that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Imagine if everyone had fallen silent.

A man of great girth, with a pentagonal hat and chain of office round his neck, strode forward importantly. As he stepped closer, Graham recognized him as Hector. He was more or less mayor, but spent most of his time selling artisanal cheeses over the border. Graham had stayed overnight at his house and beat him at hangman, back when King Edward had sent him to defeat a banshee.

Hector’s grin was enormous, but his eyes were humbly downcast as he swept off his hat with a flourish, and sank to one knee. “Majesty,” he boomed. “Here is a day that will not soon be forgotten in our lowly township.”

Graham sighed, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his cuff, and pulled out formality. “The pleasure’s all mine, Lord Mayor. And thank you all,” he said, raising his voice, “for the warm welcome. It’s my honour to continue the strong relationship between the throne and this good village.”

More cheers. Well, that wasn’t too bad. Graham  tried to resist, but he could not help sneaking a peek to see if Number One approved. But by this time, the captain was standing to inscrutable attention in a row with the other guards. 

So they began. Speechlets, bouquets, a whirlwind tour of the town which Graham honestly could have led himself. A headache began as he boiled alive in his expensive outfit, but he soldiered on, oohing and ahhing dutifully.

At last they took him over the crest of the road and down into the mountain pass itself. In the distance, Graham could make out a colourful blur (zards, was his eyesight worse compared to his last visit? No, no, surely not,) which  he knew to be the Serenian flag hanging over a small border fortification on the other side. Halfway between them, close to the mountainside waterfall, stood the first thing Graham did not recognize from before. Something glinting here and there with metal, and painted in red and blue.

“Er, what’s that?” he asked, as Hector led the way, walking backward.

“That,” said Hector with relish, raising his voice to be heard above the crash of the waterfall, “is the  reason we insisted your people schedule your visit for today. We only finished putting it together last night. The pride of Mannerly Stove. This way, sire. Only, keep to the middle of the road. Safer.”

“Safer?” asked Graham, but the crowd was already bustling him down the slope toward the object. As it came into focus, he could make out sandbags, gears, a series of weigh scale bowls suspended from chains, and a long winding slide, about the right size for a marble. But none of the bells and whistles disguised the thing completely.

 “A… tollbooth?”

Number One somehow shot him a pointed look, despite his eyes being disguised beneath his helmet. “A very fine tollbooth, I’m sure.”

“A groundbreaking tollbooth,” said Hector. “Like no one has ever seen before, my king. Let us demonstrate.” 

To Graham’s annoyance, the excited mayor yanked him toward the window by the wrist, where a giggling assistant demanded five shiny gold coins. A scowl escaped him at the price, but Number Three leant over his shoulder and murmured something about how after all, he was really just dropping the money back into his own pocket. She asked whether he were smuggling anything, checked something off a list, and  turned a crank. 

The striped barrier began to rise. There was a  shifting and creaking that didn’t seem to come from the mechanism, but out of the earth itself. Graham could have sworn he saw the pebbles on the road rolling slightly. For a moment, an unnaturally straight crack formed in a portion of the road, swallowing dust. Almost as suddenly it disappeared, and all went still. The barrier stopped, at full height.

“Have a nice trip!” the assistant rattled off. “Just have a word with the Serenians at the checkstop on your way through.”

Graham took a few wary steps over the invisible border, but it all seemed solid enough.  He threw an uncertain glance back at the beaming group. “But I don’t actually, right?”

Hector chuckled. “Better not. We’d give the Serenians a good gossip if we sent the king himself through. On foot. All by himself and unprotected.”

Indignation flared in Graham's chest unexpectedly. He was seized by an impulse to power-walk over the frontier and give the people of Daventry something to gossip about.  All by himself and unprotected, indeed. But he slapped that thought away, and ducked to slip under the re-lowered barrier.

The entire crowd gasped as one. The assistant’s mouth went round as an O, and the mayor waved his hands wildly. “No, no, no!” he cried. “Back up! Back up!”

Graham scooted backward, his black satin cloak billowing round. He instinctively checked the ground, but nothing seemed to be moving.

Hector placed a hand over his heart and  heaved a sigh of relief. “Never,” he said, articulating every syllable, “ever try to pass while the gate is still shut. Or go around it. Or climb over it. There are weight sensitive plates everywhere, and if you did -"

“Raise that gate again,” commanded Number One with a firm nod at the assistant. She hurried to obey. The road began groaning again.

“- if you did,” Hector went on, “the entire border defense system would be triggered. Walls, saws, spikes, you name it. And if something of sufficient weight passes over one of those plates, like a cart, it can even set off two small landslides to block the pass on either side.” 

“Retrieve the king,” said Number One hurriedly.

As the barrier locked into its highest position, Graham’s six guards charged forward. They seized him by the shoulders, and  precisely maneuvered him to the very center of the road. They all but shoved him back to the Daventry side, even as they tiptoed, lightly as possible, on their curly boots. “Excuse me,” Graham growled so the crowd wouldn’t hear. “I am perfectly able to walk.” He dug in his heels before he could collide with Hector.

“Landslides?” Graham said aloud, righting himself and shaking off the guards. “That seems like a lot.”

Hector shook his head and waggled a sensible finger. “Nature’s trap for intruders. You see,  a few months back, we had some trouble with bootleggers sneaking past this stretch of road. The late King Edward gave us a grant to tighten security. This Domino Effect Tollbooth was our most brilliant minds’ answer.”

Graham rubbed his chin stubble. “But I mean, smugglers aren’t limited to this route. You could actually sneak into the valley from any direction, right?”

“But NOT through Mannerly Stove,” proclaimed Hector, thrusting out his chest pompously, as though that settled the question. “But you haven’t seen the really droll part of it yet, sire. You might be thinking that an offender might get through the defenses anyhow. That’s why we installed these.” Hector indicated a row of thin, brass pipes protruding from the underside of the toll booth. “These swing out, and blast the scoundrel with sixteen bright colours of paint! Good luck blending in after that!”

“Wow.” Graham scratched his temple under his crown. “You figure it needs sixteen?”

“Naturally! Two or three colours could just mean housepainting, or an artist having a clumsy day. But the odds of sixteen? I think not. In fact, our designer’s original plan was for two-hundred-and-fifty-six colours, but there wasn’t room in the budget. But,” (his smile broadened again - how was that physically possible?) “if I may make so bold, things have been looking up since you got those treasures back. And we, we have full confidence you’ll make the very best use of them. You see, sire, the taxes your officials have us down for are shockingly heavy for such a small town. It's something I’d hoped we could chat about before you leave - possibly expanding the grant.”

“I see.” Graham couldn’t quite stop a smirk from creeping over his face. “So you can have the two-hundred-and-fifty-six colours.”

Hector bobbed the slightest of bows. “That would be a start.”

The smirk spread as he mirrored the mayor’s bow. “Of course. It’s so… great to know the kingdom’s money would be put to such excellent -”

A  gauntleted hand clapped over the king’s mouth. “Bless you,” said Number One brusquely from behind him. “Just as you say, sire. Great to know security is being taken so seriously.”

Really? In what world did Number One imagine that was subtle? 

Graham spluttered as the guard released him, but before he stepped away Number One poked him sharply between the shoulder blades. Muscle memory kicked in. Graham found himself straightening up and putting his shoulders back, as he always did on the training ground when Number One corrected his posture. Then he turned and glared, meeting the guard’s gaze. He deliberately slumped his shoulders and let himself fall into the easy bow-legged stance Number One was always giving him grief for. Zards; what was even the point of dragging him out here if they were just going to be embarrassed of his existence? Maybe they should just put the crown on Number One’s head and send him round to smile and wave at smug villagers. Stars knew he wouldn’t mind taking it off for a while. The headache was morphing from a gnaw to an ache.

Number One held his gaze. And Graham noticed suddenly that everyone had gone quiet.

Hector laughed nervously. “Perhaps your majesty is tired. The heat of the day, naturally. Maybe…” He glanced at the brook rushing by the wayside, and upward at the roiling foam of the falls. “I know just the thing to cool us all down. There’s a staircase carved into the rock that starts just over there. It leads up to a little cliff about halfway up the waterfall. The view is really spectacular.”

“Great idea!” Graham cut in. Anything to shift focus.

The slate-blue steps cut from the side of the mountain were puddle slick most of the way up, pooling mist into water.. More than once Graham nearly lost his footing and had to grab at the fiery-orange foliage of the bushes that lined the way. The second time, Number Two had to give him a shove to get his center of gravity back. 

“You all right?” he whispered in Graham’s ear.

“I’m managing,” he said, trying to put some pep into it.

But Number Two didn’t pull back just yet. “Don’t think about who’s watching,” he murmured. “Not us, not them. Just think about one day when you’ll be old and stuck in bed all day, and can't climb mountains no more -and have fun with it now. That’s how it’s done.”  He patted Graham lightly on the shoulder. “Sire.”

At length they reached the narrow shelf - Graham, the guards, and Hector, who immediately pointed out that you could see his house from there. In fact, Graham could see all of Mannerly Stove from there, and a good stretch of the kingdom below, decked out in autumn glory. He was fairly sure the shimmering bit of white light was the castle pinnacle. But it was the falls that really stole the show, rushing down in magnificent sheets, and casting up snowy white froth. Graham gratefully stepped into the spray and let it play over his face and hands. He rubbed the cool water into the corners of his eyes. Who cared that his good clothes got a trifle wet? Anyone with an ounce of compassion would give him this. He wondered what temperature the guards had reached in their armour, and whether they were envious.

Hector swept another needless bow. “I thought your majesty might find it refreshing. Now, while we’re up here, it would be a crime not to show you the Tickle Rock. How do you like that?” He pointed a brawny finger toward the cliff’s edge.

Perched near the brink sat the most top-heavy rock Graham had ever seen. As tall as he was, and rather wider than his arm span at the top, it dwindled to a narrow point at its base. He could have wrapped his fingers round the bottom. This, at last,  was something to see.

“Perfectly balanced, as you see,” said Hector, taking a moment to hold his handkerchief under the waterfall and dab at his forehead. “It was the pride of our village long before the tollbooth. So, you see, it can never fall down. It’s been here as long as anyone knows. When the winds blow, it rocks a little, but it goes on standing.”

“And it can never fall down?” Graham asked, genuinely enchanted for the first time since his coronation.

“Never.”

“That’s incredible!”

“Miraculous,” the mayor agreed. He considered a moment, then seized off his hat and held it under the water  to fill it up. “Stars bless us, but it is a hot day,” he muttered. “Yes, miraculous. It can never fall down, because if it did, we’d lose half our fame. Although if you come to think of it, the really miraculous thing, even more so than the Tickle Rock’s perfect balance, is that no idiot has ever climbed up here and given it a good…” He looked up from his hat, and froze. “Sir Graham! No!”

A shining-eyed Graham had closed the gap between himself and the rock. To Hector’s horror, even as the words formed on his lips, Graham raised his hand. Pointed a finger. And poked the stone. 

It wobbled.

“What?” said Graham, glancing back over his shoulder in honest bewilderment. “Didn’t you say it can never fall?”

The rock lurched toward the precipice’s edge.

Hector screamed. The crowd below screamed. Nearly every guard screamed.

Graham’s blood froze, and his stomach turned a cat’s cradle. “No, no, no no no no no!” Without a thought in his head, except that the Tickle Rock must not fall, he clambered to get a hold of it, catching frantically at the air. His arms closed round its sides. He heaved backward, realizing just a moment later that if the stone came with him, it would land on top of him. But it didn’t. It wedged itself on the end of his boot, just a fraction away from his toes.  It tottered - tottered further - and righted itself in his arms.

Oh, gods. Oh, merciful gods. That had been unthinkably close. He heaved a sigh of relief, and could have sworn that sigh echoed through the whole mountain pass.

Then something shifted, and Graham and the rock hurtled over the edge.

He cried out. For a moment someone seemed to be tugging at his cloak, but they must have let go. He pulled his arms free of the rock, and found himself spinning somersaults and cartwheels in freefall. The crown flew off his head.  He reached, reached for something to grab hold of, but nothing met his grip.

Then he thudded into the earth.

The wind was knocked out of him, but his arm raised itself on reflex. With perfect timing, he snatched the crown out of the air. Well, at least he had that.

Five spinning skies resolved into one as he gasped breath back into his lungs. Dizzily, he raised himself on one elbow. He was laid out on his back, mere inches from the shattered chunks of the Tickle Rock. And on the other side of him, the tollbooth.

The ground began to creak and rumble under him.

Graham closed his eyes. “No…”

He launched himself into a roll just as the ground beneath where had been lying fell away. From the breach burst a circular saw, spinning so fast it  screeched. He broke his roll just in time, for an identical saw split the ground and rose from the other side. Earsplitting bells and horns rang out. He staggered to his feet, only for something - a spinning jousting target? - to swing at his head. Throwing himself into the arms of instinct, he ducked and weaved as more and more threats appeared, some from the ground, some on metal fixtures that came out of the tollbooth, some from who could say where. He swerved to avoid a procession of five tremendous wooden mallets, any of which could have sent his head flying like a croquet ball. Finally, a great wall of black iron, lined at the top with vicious spikes, leapt out of the ground, cutting off his escape toward the Serenian side. Graham dashed wildly toward Daventry, even though the spikes of the second wall had already climbed a good three feet. Throwing all his momentum into it, he leapt wildly to clear the wall. But the spinning jousting target snagged his cloak, and threw him back into the middle of the fray. 

He flattened himself against the ground, covering his head with his arms, and waited for something to squish or slice or stretch him. Somewhere, the rumbling grew even louder, until it roared.

Everything stopped.

He waited, then waited longer. But nothing more came. Slow as molasses in winter, he got to his feet and looked around. The saws were still, the mallets had fallen to the ground, inert, and the walls, while very much standing, seemed to have reached their full height.

He tilted his head back to look up at the cliff. Only Hector remained by the waterfall. His eyes goggled out of his  head, but he said nothing. The guards were nowhere in sight, though he thought maybe he could just make out Number One’s voice raised above the crash of the water. “Pockets!” 

“I’m -” His voice sounded weak and hoarse, and not nearly loud enough to carry. He tried again, a bit louder.  “I’m here, Number One! I -  think it’s all over.”

A blast of neon yellow splashed violently into his face.

He shut his eyes just in time. The paints soaked him with such force it was hard to keep his balance. He gritted his teeth, folded his arms, and leaned against the metal wall for support. Just stand and take it, and think what on earth you’re going to say to them all.

When at last the paint melee stopped, he cracked an eyelid and looked down at himself. If he hadn’t needed glasses before, he certainly would after an eyeful like that. Lime green, sherbet pink, tropical orange. This outfit was single handedly going to set the royal laundry on strike.

A helmeted head popped over  the wall. “Sire!” cried Number One anxiously, already grabbing onto a spike to vault over. “Are you hurt?” 

The ground had already spat so many things out; if only it could swallow him. He forced a limp, rainbow-coloured thumbs up. 

Number One was there in a moment, seizing him by the elbows. “Are you hurt at all?” He sounded beside himself.

Graham shook his head, grateful that his sopping blue and white hair hung down over his face, so that his eyes were hidden too.

“Can you speak?”

“Uh huh.”

Number One’s grip relaxed, and if it was a wave of relief that washed over the guard, Graham could feel it roll over him too. Just for a moment. Because the next moment the grip turned severe. If Number One had been any stronger he would have crushed Graham's elbows as he leaned in and whispered furiously, “What in bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” Then he stepped back, and shouted clearly, “His majesty is not seriously harmed. Numbers Two and Three, prepare the carriage to take him home at once. My lord mayor, on behalf of the royal guard, we are deeply, deeply sorry for this unfortunate accident. Numbers Four, Five, and Six, we’ll be here overnight to… deal with all this.” 

Up on the clifftop, Hector shook himself from his stupor. “Uh - uh - uh, well,” he stammered, “well, I don’t think anyone’s heading home tonight. The, uh, the rock was, um, heavy. The landslides, they worked perfectly, on both sides. So you’re probably stuck here until, um, we can get the rubble crew in.”

Number One twitched, almost imperceptibly. “How long will that take?”

Hector began twisting his hat into a helix. “I don’t think the team has been, um, precisely organized yet. We - we only finished the tollbooth last night. Um, there’s a signup sheet on the town board. Can someone run and check on that?”

The last time Graham had stayed overnight at the mayor’s house, he’d slept on the sofa. This evening the two housemaids rushed about in a frenzy to get the master bedroom ready. They changed out the bedding, set up a side table with a pitcher of water, mints, and a bell, and covered the floor and armchair with towels and tarps, so the splattered king could drip as much as he liked.

Exhausted, he eased into the chair sorely. If his muscles were feeling that fall now, what would they be tomorrow? As for the headache, it had apparently decided to split expenses and housemate with a few other headaches. But a splitting head and aching muscles were things he could get over. He wasn’t sure about the rest.

The wash stand was just within reach. A linen towel hung over the edge. Improper it might be, but his handkerchief was a sodden mess of paint. Graham grabbed the towel and blew his nose hard. Even the mucus seemed to have all sixteen colours in it.

Number One marched into the room with the most precisely by-the-book march Graham had ever seen from him, but he only stopped the door from slamming at the last second. He stepped carefully around the colourful footprints, placed his helmet on the dresser, and stared at Graham. He didn’t exactly look angry. Graham didn’t quite know what that look was, except that it was intense. “What are you?” asked the guard slowly.

Graham shrugged.  “An artistic masterpiece,” he said dryly.

“No. What are you?”

“I know. I know. I’m an idiot.” He dragged a weary hand across his face, and it came away purple and brown.

Number One took a step forward. “No!” He emphasized every word. “You are Daventry. Daventry! You cannot be Sir Graham any longer. You cannot be an island, or a maverick, or whatever you think you are. And you cannot be a rebellious schoolboy.” 

Couldn’t he give it five minutes? “It’s just when he said it couldn’t fall, I took it in the sense that -”

“Daventry tumbled and scraped its way down a mountainside today. Daventry fell on its face in the dust.”

“I was actually on my back…”

“Daventry walked away wet, unsteady, and foolish, gagging up paint in front of the whole town, who will spread it round on our side of the border and over it. And the fault is completely mine.”

That got Graham’s attention. He looked up. “What?”

“You are as far from ready as you could be. And you nearly got yourself killed today.” Number One looked as though he might go on, but he abruptly stopped himself. He seized his helmet up, replaced it, and muttered, “I should be publicly flogged."

This time, he let the door slam.

[avelera]

I wonder, because I genuinely don't know, if there's a correlation between age and writers who consider a romance where the main couple shares a kiss to be the resolution of the romance rather than the beginning of it?

I feel like it's a younger perspective to think that a couple pining for one another, dancing around one another, and then finally confessing their feelings to each other, and maybe kissing or having sex represents the arc of a romance.

Whereas, at least for me, and full disclosure I'm in my 30s, cis, bisexual, married, and with a decent number of partners before that, a kiss and a declaration of love really just means the two of you can start negotiating what it means to share your lives together, what portion of your lives you're going to share, whether this is temporary or ride-or-die, or whether you have baggage to navigate, whether you love each other but don't like each other or vice versa.

And of course, most importantly for epic romances and genre fiction that deals less with mundane romantic concerns: just because you've declared your love for one another, doesn't mean you'll be able to keep it. In a story with action or adventure, one of you could die, or you could get separated, or be pulled in different directions by fate, just as an example. And maybe this just shows my age, but I've always found stories where established lovers lose one another ten times more emotionally impactful than potential lovers who were still pining for each other but never made it official "losing" what they never really had.

This all comes to mind because occasionally on my romance or smut-centric fics I'll get a comment by people surprised the couple got together so quickly, or worried because oh no, the big kiss happened in the middle of the story, so what's going to happen between here and the end? And I adore these comments for what they show me of the mindset of the readers (something the author can only ever guess at) but I also find it overall curious just how often, when I'm writing mature, often middle-aged or more (like, immortal) characters that people are surprised that these two adults kissed and yet that there's still more of the story to tell.

Because all I can think is, oh honey, they've kissed, which means I can now put them through the absolute wringer of what they will do to keep this love they've found :3

(Edit: I should clarify, I also love pining, slow burn, and get-together stories! Those are absolutely a valid and core part of the romance genre. I guess I just find it surprising when it seems readers only expect romance to be slow burn, or to be completed with a kiss.)

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

omfg i'm sorry to rant but i NEED a sympathetic person to hear this. i like the every single album podcast more than most swifties, but today's ep -- and the last few -- are driving me insane. i am so fucking sick of hearing nathan and nora wring their hands over what joe might deal with. all harassment is bad, but i am done pretending that jake g and john mayer went through….any kind of wringer? they had like...a semi-awkward couple of weeks? jake is still a mega a-lister and john mayer is widely considered to be one of the greatest living guitarists. fuck, what mayer did was outright predatory -- and he's done it to multiple women -- and lbr, he lives 99% of his life totally unperturbed by it. he's not losing gigs or status in the places that matter to him; i suspect a lot of swifties aren't aware of this but i'm a guitar nerd, and uh, yeah, he's considered a living god and no one gives a shit what he did to taylor. and literally everyone woman in the public eye, including taylor, goes through worse every single fucking day, even at their heights of popularity. i don't know how to deal with hearing nathan and nora worry about :(((( omg what will joe go through :((((( when he's never going to have disgusting ai porn of himself explode across twitter on a random weekday. maybe i feel this strongly b/c i work in games, where hordes of male fans regularly ruin random women's lives because they animated a female character wearing a t-shirt instead of a string bikini, but i can't deal with this anymore. these men are fine. lots of people get mad at them, but it's because they did truly shitty things to her and she refused to absorb it silently. then it breaks, and their lives go on.

---

I feel like Nora really articulated what Anon was trying to say the other day about along the gist of "I hope something really bad happened to justify all of this." Interesting perspectives! Btw I just want to be super clear that I don't think Taylor or anyone has to justify anything like that! Just thought it was interesting how Nora put it in the latest episode and T's power is the unusual part of this equation.

---

In a very classic "I thought the two of you should meet!" re: today's The Ringer / Every Single Album pod episode.

I will say I read both of these messages before listening to the episode myself and tbh I think Nora ultimately landed in a pretty middle and reasonable place (it started out pretty rocky though) by the end of the episode. My understanding is she ultimately felt like Taylor has every right to tell the story that she wants / needs to tell and the work will speak for itself. That this is Taylor going face to face with the elephant in the room and (probably - we don't know obviously) not obfuscating the reality that we all saw play out in real time behind 'fictionalized' half truths roleplayed by semi-imaginary characters. And at the end of the day the (likely - AGAIN WE DON'T KNOW) reality is that she's prepared to walk through the narrative that is this pressure cooker storyline many are waiting with baited breath for which is the deterioration of her most significant relationship to date.

All that to say is that I think both of these points are incredibly valid. I personally have a lot of feelings wrapped up in it that do tend to come down more on the side of it's strange that the default position is this desire to sign up as first in line defence attorney for a man when the crime as we know it is 'woman writes her life into art'.

Nora interestingly noted that there's a "pressure for this album to come with receipts" (paraphrase) based on this (fan) hyped up narrative of something sinister having gone awry that this album will pull the curtain back on. And if it fails to do that, enter said self-appointed attorneys.

[spiteless-xo]

I didnt know if I should put this in an ask or message or what, but I’m sorry about the comments on this weeks chapter. I love your writing and this fic. I think people want characters and reader to be perfect but that’s not how life is, and I think your characters are very realistic, that’s one of my favorite parts about the story. I hope it doesnt discourage you from writing. You are very talented so don’t listen to what people say.

Thank you so much for your message! 🥰 I really appreciate it.

It was really strange this morning waking up to over 100 comments to see that half of them were people arguing.

wall of text below cut

The negative/hate comments really don't bother me at all. I understand that I will never please everyone, so I don't take it personally.

Most people get upset because they're so passionate about the characters, and I get that. It can be frustrating to see someone make your beloved character act in a way that doesn't feel truthful to your image of them, so I can't fault these people for getting upset. Especially when I'm reallyyyyy putting Eren through the wringer right now 💀 I 100% understand why people are angry with me about that -- but, like I said, I don't take it personally.

My biggest concern, honestly, is that it's preventing other people from having fun in the comments. I love seeing everyone interact with one another and I'd hate to know that people are afraid to comment because they're scared they'll get attacked by someone else. That really doesn't sit right with me, but it's difficult for me to monitor the comments regularly so idk what the best solution is.

Don't worry, I'm fully committed to finishing the story. Even if every single one of the commenters turns on me for hurting their faves 🙈 I am determined to see this story through to the end because I'm writing it for myself, and the fact that so many other lovely people like yourself enjoy it too is just the cherry on top of the cake 💗

[tigger8900]

The Light Pirate, by Lily Brooks-Dalton

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 1/2

Born into — and named after — one of the violent hurricanes that are becoming increasingly common as climate change ravages Florida, Wanda is a strange child with an even stranger power: the ability to make the ocean glow with a touch. As she grows, her ties to what once was are severed, one by one, until finally she stands in a new world utterly unlike anything known to human civilization. But is all truly lost, or is there something new waiting to be discovered?

I find it very difficult to describe this book, because parts of it are so different from each other. Sometimes the action flows at a tense, rapid pace, and other times it slows, taking a quiet moment to grieve or love. It's tense and sad and emotionally ravaging, fast and slow all at once, and the only thing I can say about it with confidence is that I never felt bored with the pacing. When it slowed, it was because it needed to, and when it raced it was because trying to hold it back would have been unbearable. I also hesitate to describe the tone as hopeful, because most of it was incredibly bleak. The hope shines through only at the very end, after you've already spent all your tears. This is not a lunch break book!

My absolutely favorite part of the book was, hands down, the characters. I don't have words for how much I loved Phyllis, but my heart also ached for Kirby, Lucas, and all the rest. I loved them despite their flaws and mistakes, because those were what made them human. They felt so real, like actual people who might be living in a town like Rudder. The one character who fell kind of flat to me was Brie. She felt underdeveloped during her entire involvement in the story, because everything interesting about her happened off-screen.

The other thing that felt underdeveloped to me was the magical realism elements involving Wanda's light powers. I'm okay with not having all the answers about where they came from, but they just kind of exist and don't really do anything other than orchestrate a couple plot points? I feel like the novel could have been written without them being a thing, and very little would have had to change.

All that said, I highly recommend this book to anyone who's into cli-fi! Just make sure you're emotionally prepared, because it's going to put you through the wringer.

Before I go, an important question needs answering: does the cat die? (Mild spoilers ahead!) During the course of the story, Wanda acquires a pet kitten. This kitten does not die after the events at the end of part 2, when you'll be worrying that it might have(personally, I was so distressed that I had to skim ahead until I saw it mentioned, and only then could I go back and read normally). It does not, however, survive forever. After a few more years, it's lost off-screen, with a vague description indicating it got out of the house and most likely did not survive.

[quickdeaths]

is there a specific character archetype you enjoy writing the most? what inspires you when making your ocs? what genre do you enjoy writing in the most? (Hey Bryn, you got any of that OC brainrot? I need to spam your askbox with that good brainrot. It's leaking out of discord!)

is there a specific character archetype you enjoy writing the most?

I did already answer this, but I prepared a second answer just for you, Rae. This should be of truly Zero Surprise to you, but I like characters who are emotionally closed off about their own feelings and eventually open up. This doesn't always look like same, I think. Just on this blog alone, I would say that Shinobu is closed off where it's obviously coldness and general discomfort with emotions period, while with someone like Izumi it's more anxiety and feeling like a burden on other people and not wanting to drag people down with her issues, and with Tsubasa, it's a veneer of "I'm funny, I'm cool, I'm laid back and chill, I'm not damaged, I'm not sad, I'm totally fine, let me take care of you, pretty girl, I don't want you to worry about me."

I think in general, it can be hard to be open about your feelings and it's easy to build up walls and mechanisms that keep you from having to think about them and frankly, I put my characters through the goddamn wringer sometimes. So, then the questions of "how are they dealing with this, what coping mechanism are they adopting , and how, ultimately, are they going to try and take those walls down and turn those mechanisms off in service of connecting intimately (whether that's romantically or platonically) with another person?" just naturally follow.

what inspires you when making your ocs?

Depends! Sometimes it's to be a foil to another character (either an OC that a friend is writing, or more rarely, a canon character). Sometimes (often) it's a situation where there's a hole in the canon, or some idea that I think would have been interesting but wasn't explored. Sometimes I am simply gripped by Pure Spite at some piece of canon that I hate and a powerful drive to change it in some small way. Increasingly, other people that I know in the RPC are the biggest inspiration, and not in a "I want to design a character like X's character" way, but rather a "I want to design a character that would have interesting interactions with X's character." That's kind of how the DR OCs were all made, since they were originally designed to do things with my girlfriend's Discord DR OCs.

The things I try to keep in mind are like, A) is this character different enough from what I already have to justify existing? B) is this character grounded in the world that they are inhabiting (or if they're fandomless, are they grounded in the genre or macro-setting)? C) Is there enough here that I am going to be excited to write them for weeks, months, or years? D) Are there ways for other people (IC, and OOC) to meaningfully impact the direction of the stories?

The process can be a little different every time, but it's broadly things like coming up with an aesthetic, coming up with the themes of the character and what their struggles are, and then checking them against that little checklist above. It's not always possible, and these dorks end up surprising me sometimes, but I try to have a full image in my head of who a character is and what they're about before I write them with another person.

what genre do you enjoy writing in the most?

Well, I do like slow burn romance ehehe... It's hard to pick a "Favorite" though. Speaking of "genre" rather than "setting," I really enjoy character-driven stories that have romance elements, but also skew a bit more realistically in terms of time and realistic(ish) depiction of obstacles and pitfalls. I love angst (not all the time, a little can go a long way, but romance without angst is like food without spices for me). I like fantasy (although is that a genre or a setting or both?) but a specific kind of fantasy, at least when it comes to writing. I like supernatural/paranormal/whatever a little bit, but definitely in a more grounded and realistic way. I actually love horror and run a ton of horror TTRPG games, but I don't think I'm necessarily good at it in pure text mediums.

As like a big overarching thing, I would say that I do like writing romance when it makes sense and is mutually desired, and more generally, I just like writing stories with deep characterization, some kind of relationship, and a development of both that relationship and those characters over time.

[lokiondisneyplus]

Sophia Di Martino was launched into the pop cultural consciousness thanks to her role as Sylvie – AKA the Loki variant on Marvel Disney Plus series Loki, where she trades barbs and shares background stories with Tom Hiddleston's God of Mischief.

Episode Three of the series found Loki on a wild adventure with Sylvie, after he accidentally sent them both to the doomed moon Lamentis-1, on a collision course with a planet. Facing an apocalypse, the pair hatches a plan to find the escape vessel that some of the moon's wealthier residents are hoping will carry them to safety and, while on the train to the ship, they discuss everything from the nature of love to their respective magical abilities.

When the opportunity arose to talk to her, we naturally jumped at it, so here is part of Chris Hewitt's conversation with Di Martino, who was frank and funny while chatting about getting the job, Loki's sexuality and more.

The last two weeks in particular must have been a heck of a whirlwind for you. What's it been like being at the centre of the storm?

It's been a strange one. Because I feel like I've been waiting in the wings for quite a while. And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this until today. So, it's been a really strange few weeks, just watching the show start and listening to people's reactions, but not being able to talk about it. I don't feel like I've been in the centre of the storm at all. I feel like I've been watching it play out.

Have you been able to say anything to anybody, family friends... Postmen?

Absolutely no-one! My mum has no idea where I've been for the past two years. It's been really difficult. But to be honest, I'm actually really good at keeping secrets. So, I've perhaps been too good and haven't told anyone, anything. My agent, no one knows anything! I’m taking it really seriously, maybe a bit too seriously!

You and director Kate Herron have worked together in the past. Is that how it began for you?

Kate and I worked together on a short film of hers a few years ago now. And we stayed in touch, we're mates, we'll go out for coffee and do a bit of improv. We exist in the same circles in London. I'm trying to remember how exactly it happened. I was shooting another film in the UK, and I think I got a message from Kate saying, “I'm on this show, I'm not allowed to talk about what it is... There's a role, we'd like to see what you do with it. I can't tell you any more. Just wanted to give you the heads up...” A really vague WhatsApp message. So, then I got a request for a tape through my agent. But obviously, my agency also couldn't know anything about what was happening and what it was or anything. I was given a really short scene, made a tape of this scene and just had to guess what it was about. I think it was actually what ended up being the scene from Episode Three, which is Loki and Sylvie on the train. I think it ended up being that scene, but it was very different when I did the audition tape for it.

Did it have the word Loki in the script at any point?

No, no, no names! I think it was Bob and Sarah or something completely different. I didn't have a clue what it was.

I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself.

At what point did the penny drop? At what point did you realise that you were auditioning to play a Loki on Loki, and then this incredibly complex character?

I can't remember what happened first. It might have been the news that Kate was directing the new Loki came out. And then I was like, “Oh, maybe that's what I read for...” Or if it was that I was just offered the job, and they told me what it was. But yeah, it was a surprise. And I had a chat with Tom on FaceTime because he was in New York. I never actually met anyone because I was nine months pregnant, I couldn't fly anywhere. So, I was in London, everyone else is in the US. So, it was just that tape, it was all based on that. And obviously, I've worked with Kate before, so she knows that I'm not some weirdo. And she must’ve convinced them to cast me!

Let’s talk a little bit about Sylvie as we now know her. What's clear is that you're not doing a Tom Hiddleston impression. This is not your take on a Tom Hiddleston Loki, this is a very, very different iteration of their character. So where did you start?

Well, probably exactly there, making that decision that I didn't want to go in and do an impression of Tom, because that would have been awful. I'm really bad at impressions for a start! Sylvie’s very different to Loki in a lot of ways. There's the chaos and there's the mischievous, which are very, very Loki traits. But for me, I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself. And I think that plus the playfulness really helped me get into the character. And, and so that was the way I started.

The stunt training and the fight training really helped me with her physicality, and we were all really keen on her being a really strong, sort of street fighter, almost. She's not as elegant as Loki. She's fit and rough around the edges, she's had a harder time, in a way, she's been on the run for the majority of her life, getting into scraps. And I like the idea that she really enjoys fighting. And she'd really get something out of it. Because she knows that she's probably going to win. Right? And that's where her cockiness comes through, maybe. And so that was part of it as well. And then as soon as you put the costume on, you're there.

What was that like? Because the costume says so much as well. There's the headpiece, which obviously has a missing horn, which says a lot about the scrapes that she's gotten into in the past. And also says that this isn't the Loki we might be expecting.

We were really keen on making the costume look like it's been through the wringer a bit. And she's sort of gathered bits of it from places that she's been throughout her journey. We didn't want it to be too clean and shiny. And it was also important to me that it was a really comfortable costume and that I could actually fight in it, and I could kick in it and just do things that I needed to kick not have to worry about breaking it or being uncomfortable. And then Christine Wada, the costume designer, was amazing at just making it super comfy. But I still felt like a badass when I put it on.

The train scene has that wonderful moment where you’re talking about your romantic pasts, and Loki confirms that he is bisexual, which has been received rapturously since the episode came out. Did you get a sense of how momentous it was when you were filming it?

I knew how important it was, yeah. And I'm just so pleased that it's been received so well. And people are super happy to have seem that scene. And like I said, the show is inspired by the comics, and the comics for a long time have alluded to Loki being bisexual or pansexual. And his sexuality is not straight. And even back to Norse mythology. So, it was important to Kate, and it was also important to me and Tom, that this was represented in a six-hour story about that character. Because representation is important.

It's such a beautifully written scene. Can you just talk about your memories of filming those exchanges? Because we've only just met Sylvie, and we haven’t seen Loki consider the idea of love or falling in love or being frail or vulnerable in that way before.

It’s a super important scene. And it was interesting to shoot it because it's the first time that you see Sylvie vulnerable. And it's just a really important moment for the two of them to understand each other in a different way, and not just be miffed by each other for the first time. And when we were filming it, it is quite a long scene. And it just felt really good to do a long, talky scene. It didn't feel long when we were doing it. But it was nice to get into those characters, and it sort of felt like doing a play, when you go a bit deeper and it’s great. It's just another way of understanding the character that you're playing. And listening to Tom singing was also an experience! Didn’t he do such a good job of learning all those words? I was just amazed that he could learn a song in a different language. And he did it so quickly! Like, one day he got the words and the next day he was fluent in Norwegian! That’s Hiddleston, isn’t it? He’s just so smart!

[sl-walker]

and with blackbirds, i've said before i was waiting for it to finish before i started and i don't think i'm going to manage, but how long are you expecting it to be? like, how vast of a project is this masterpiece??

Year One is on its final arc. Given your speed of reading, you absolutely could start now. (That's not a criticism, I love what a thoughtful reader you are, and your comments make me so happy.)

Anyway, it's not much longer. My main struggle with adding to it right now is 1.) Blindsided is actually easier because the chapters are shorter and the plot isn't as complex. 2.) Also, I'm only ever behind one character's eyes in Blindsided with very rare exceptions; in Blackbirds, I have a very big main cast and several highly important secondaries to keep up with. And 3.) This is the last arc and I'm scared to bits that I can't make it happen. I mean, I know I can. But I have put Maul through such a wringer at this point and he's not done going through it, and I'm worried I won't be able to do him justice as he kind of hurtles into his own future.

But-- a lot of that is rambling. I was working on Blackbirds today, in fact. So-- not long now? For Year One. (After that comes Years Two and Three. LOL!) I think I have it listed as being 16-17 chapters more before this part of the story ends and the next one starts.

[twh-news]

Loki: Sophia Di Martino Talks About Songs, Sexuality, Scoring The Role Of Sylvie And More

Sophia Di Martino was launched into the pop cultural consciousness thanks to her role as Sylvie – AKA the Loki variant on Marvel Disney Plus series Loki, where she trades barbs and shares background stories with Tom Hiddleston's God of Mischief.

Episode Three of the series found Loki on a wild adventure with Sylvie, after he accidentally sent them both to the doomed moon Lamentis-1, on a collision course with a planet. Facing an apocalypse, the pair hatches a plan to find the escape vessel that some of the moon's wealthier residents are hoping will carry them to safety and, while on the train to the ship, they discuss everything from the nature of love to their respective magical abilities.

When the opportunity arose to talk to her, we naturally jumped at it, so here is part of Chris Hewitt's conversation with Di Martino, who was frank and funny while chatting about getting the job, Loki's sexuality and more.

The last two weeks in particular must have been a heck of a whirlwind for you. What's it been like being at the centre of the storm?

It's been a strange one. Because I feel like I've been waiting in the wings for quite a while. And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this until today. So, it's been a really strange few weeks, just watching the show start and listening to people's reactions, but not being able to talk about it. I don't feel like I've been in the centre of the storm at all. I feel like I've been watching it play out.

Have you been able to say anything to anybody, family friends... Postmen?

Absolutely no-one! My mum has no idea where I've been for the past two years. It's been really difficult. But to be honest, I'm actually really good at keeping secrets. So, I've perhaps been too good and haven't told anyone, anything. My agent, no one knows anything! I’m taking it really seriously, maybe a bit too seriously!

You and director Kate Herron have worked together in the past. Is that how it began for you?

Kate and I worked together on a short film of hers a few years ago now. And we stayed in touch, we're mates, we'll go out for coffee and do a bit of improv. We exist in the same circles in London. I'm trying to remember how exactly it happened. I was shooting another film in the UK, and I think I got a message from Kate saying, “I'm on this show, I'm not allowed to talk about what it is... There's a role, we'd like to see what you do with it. I can't tell you anymore. Just wanted to give you the heads up...” A really vague WhatsApp message. So, then I got a request for a tape through my agent. But obviously, my agency also couldn't know anything about what was happening and what it was or anything. I was given a really short scene, made a tape of this scene and just had to guess what it was about. I think it was actually what ended up being the scene from Episode Three, which is Loki and Sylvie on the train. I think it ended up being that scene, but it was very different when I did the audition tape for it.

Did it have the word Loki in the script at any point?

No, no, no names! I think it was Bob and Sarah or something completely different. I didn't have a clue what it was.

"I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself."

At what point did the penny drop? At what point did you realise that you were auditioning to play a Loki on Loki, and then this incredibly complex character?

I can't remember what happened first. It might have been the news that Kate was directing the new Loki came out. And then I was like, “Oh, maybe that's what I read for...” Or if it was that I was just offered the job, and they told me what it was. But yeah, it was a surprise. And I had a chat with Tom on FaceTime because he was in New York. I never actually met anyone because I was nine months pregnant, I couldn't fly anywhere. So, I was in London, everyone else is in the US. So, it was just that tape, it was all based on that. And obviously, I've worked with Kate before, so she knows that I'm not some weirdo. And she must’ve convinced them to cast me!

Let’s talk a little bit about Sylvie as we now know her. What's clear to me is that you're not doing a Tom Hiddleston impression. This is not your take on a Tom Hiddleston Loki, this is a very, very different iteration of their character. So where did you start?

Well, probably exactly there, making that decision that I didn't want to go in and do an impression of Tom, because that would have been awful. I'm really bad at impressions for a start! Sylvie’s very different to Loki in a lot of ways. There's the chaos and there's the mischievous, which are very, very Loki traits. But for me, I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself. And I think that plus the playfulness really helped me get into the character. And, and so that was the way I started.

The stunt training and the fight training really helped me with her physicality, and we were all really keen on her being a really strong, sort of street fighter, almost. She's not as elegant as Loki. She's fit and rough around the edges, she's had a harder time, in a way, she's been on the run for the majority of her life, getting into scraps. And I like the idea that she really enjoys fighting. And she'd really get something out of it. Because she knows that she's probably going to win. Right? And that's where her cockiness comes through, maybe. And so that was part of it as well. And then as soon as you put the costume on, you're there.

What was that like? Because the costume says so much as well. There's the headpiece, which obviously has a missing horn, which says a lot about the scrapes, that she's gotten into in the past. And also says that this isn't the Loki we might be expecting.

We were really keen on making the costume look like it's been through the wringer a bit. And she's sort of gathered bits of it from places that she's been throughout her journey. We didn't want it to be too clean and shiny. And it was also important to me that it was a really comfortable costume and that I could actually fight in it, and I could kick in it and just do things that I needed to kick not have to worry about breaking it or being uncomfortable. And then Christine Wada, the costume designer, was amazing at just making it super comfy. But I still felt like a badass when I put it on.

The train scene that wonderful moment were you’re talking about your romantic pasts, and Loki confirms that he is bisexual, which has been received rapturously since the episode came out. And it's such a huge moment and I know it was important to Kate, as well. What can you say about that? First of all, about filming that moment? Did you get a sense of its momentousness when you were filming it?

I knew how important it was, yeah. And I'm just so pleased that it's been received so well. And people are super happy to have seem that scene. And like I said, the show is inspired by the comics, and the comics for a long time have alluded to Loki being bisexual or pansexual. And his sexuality is not straight. And even back to Norse mythology. So, it was important to Kate, and it was also important to me and Tom, that this was represented in a six-hour story about that character. Because representation is important.

And it's such a beautifully written scene as well. Can you just talk about your memories of filming those exchanges? Not just seeing Tom singing in what I presume is Norwegian, and what that was like for you? But also, just that exchange about love and how important it is for these two characters. Because we've only just met Sylvie, of course. And we haven’t seen Loki consider the idea of love or falling in love or being frail or vulnerable in that way before. So, it seemed like a fairly important exchange...

It’s a super important scene. And it was interesting to shoot it because it's the first time that you see Sylvie vulnerable. And it's just a really important moment for the two of them to understand each other in a different way, and not just be miffed by each other for the first time. And when we were filming it, it is quite a long scene. And it just felt really good to do a long, talky scene. It didn't feel long when we were doing it. But it was nice to get into those characters, and it sort of felt like doing a play, when you go a bit deeper and it’s great. It's just another way of understanding the character that you're playing. And listening to Tom singing was also an experience! Didn’t he do such a good job of learning all those words? I was just amazed that he could learn a song in a different language. And he did it so quickly! Like, one day he got the words and the next day he was fluent in Norwegian! That’s Hiddleston, isn’t it? He’s just so smart!